When she handed the parchment to Nathaniel, he scanned it and then said, “This is why he wanted to kill me tonight. He spoke of a document he believed I had stolen, but I had no idea what he meant.” He refolded the paper and returned it to Harmony. “Find a place to hide it for now. The death of Isaac will be enough to allow the estate to remain with me. We do not need an added point of suspicion into his death.”
Harmony returned the paper to the inside pocket of her overcoat, and she grasped her husband’s hand. So much needed to be said, so much wrong needed to be righted, but now was not the time. Now they had to focus on getting past the horribleness of the night.
Lydia returned not much later, and as she entered the room, Nathaniel rose from the sofa. “My lord,” she said with a deep curtsy, “the constable’s on his way.”
Nathaniel walked over to the maid and smiled. “Lydia, there is no request you can make that I will ever deny,” he said. “I am honored to have you as a friend.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Lydia said, her face turning a deep pink. She wiped at her eyes. “Thank you.”
Harmony joined them. “Get some rest,” she said. “We shall speak later.”
Once Lydia was gone, Nathaniel let out a heavy sigh. “What she did, I cannot put into words.”
Harmony slipped her hand into his and smiled. “I do not believe words are always necessary. Sometimes they are better off not spoken at all.”
***
The constable was a man Nathaniel had met on several occasions, but never under circumstances such as these. He was a pleasant enough man who took his work seriously, but not so seriously that he would refuse an offer of brandy to warm his cold and tired bones.
“So, tell me what occurred here this evening, my lord,” he said after he looked over the scene where Forbes and Isaac’s bodies still lay.
It had not been an easy decision leaving his father’s body lying on the cold wet ground, but he could do nothing for the man now that he was gone. What he had to do was make his story plausible to keep Constable Martland from further investigation. As far as he was concerned, Harmony’s name did not have to be included beyond the need for another witness.
“We were enjoying a glass of brandy in the drawing room, or rather I was enjoying a glass. Mr. Thorne, on the other hand, had already consumed an entire bottle. I asked him if it was wise to do so, but he merely laughed off my words. Well, who am I to deny a guest a moment’s indulgence?” He shook his head and sighed. “When I left the room to see to my wife, who was in the library reading, apparently Mr. Thorne got into some sort of altercation with my butler.”
“I see,” the constable said as he made notes on a small pad with a stubby pencil. “Did you hear what started this altercation, my lord?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I am afraid I did not, but whatever it was, it was serious. Forbes is not a fighting man, you see, but Mr. Thorne had proven to be a dreadful person when he was drunk. Quite hateful, which is why Lady Lambert left the room when she had.” He gave Harmony’s hand a light squeeze. “The next thing I knew, they were shouting at one another in the gardens and the box that held my father’s set of pistols was empty. I knew I should never have shown them to Isaac!” He pursed his lips in frustration.
“You could not have predicted this outcome,” Harmony said in a comforting tone, although her eyes glistened with tears.
Nathaniel sighed. “No, I suppose not.”
“Your wife is right, my lord,” Mr. Martland said. “I’ve seen what too much alcohol can do to a man all too often in my line of work. And as to your butler, well, everyone has his breaking point, that one subject he is willing to defend with his life.”
“Indeed,” Nathaniel replied. “So, what happens next? May I have the bodies removed now? I would hate for the younger maids to wake and see them there, especially Forbes. He was well-liked among the staff.”
“In a moment, if you please,” the constable replied. “You say the men were already outside. Did you try to stop them in any way?”
Nathaniel gave him an affronted look. “Of course I did,” he snapped. “Do you believe I would not? I tried in vain to reason with both men, but they refused to listen. They had such looks of determination that I could do nothing but keep my wife safely away. If I would have had the chance, I would have ordered her into the house, but they did not even do a count. Mr. Thorne lifted his gun and aimed. Forbes must have realized he would be killed, for he also aimed. They both fired simultaneously, and at such close range, they certainly could not have missed.”
Mr. Martland nodded. “I’m sorry you had to witness something so terrible, my lady,” he said sympathetically.
Harmony dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Thank you, Mr. Martland. I just hope I will be able to sleep. Seeing what I had…” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
“If that is all, Mr. Martland,” Nathaniel said, standing. “I would like to put my wife to bed and see to cleaning up this mess. If you have any further questions, please feel free to return.”
The constable placed his pad and pencil in his inside pocket. “I believe I have enough to close this case.” He shook his head. “Men and their duels,” he murmured. “Fools the lot of them!” Then he turned a deep crimson. “My apologies, my lord. It’s just that I see this all too often and find it a waste of human life. Good night to you both.”
Once Mr. Martland was gone, Nathaniel pulled his wife into his arms and held her as she continued to sob. When her sniffles quieted, he looked down at her tear-streaked face and smiled. “You are a very brave woman, Lady Lambert.”
She blushed. “I am no such thing,” she said. “But at your side, I can be anything you believe me to be.”
After sending a footman to gather men to remove the bodies and clean up the garden, he took his wife’s hand in his and led her upstairs. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace despite the sense of loss over his father.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lady Harmony Lambert stood in the study that had previously belonged to her mother-in-law. And like the lady before her, Harmony stood gazing out the window onto the gardens of Scarlett Hall. Yet, unlike her predecessor, Harmony’s thoughts were on the previous week. The great oak tree, its trunk now pocked with holes caused by the sword, reminded her of what had taken place that fateful night.
It was approaching mid-afternoon, and the sun shone on the last few remaining flowers that had not yet succumbed to the autumn chill. Although winter was still several weeks off, the cold it promised had already arrived. A cold that matched the memories that refused to leave her, memories of what she had done.
As she looked over the garden, Harmony made a promise. She and her family would create new memories and make the gardens a place of happiness once again. It would become a sanctuary to her and her children and the husband she adored. The nightmare of Isaac needed to be squelched so it would never haunt her or her family again.
The sound of someone clearing his throat made her start, and she turned to find Reverend Creassey standing in the doorway. “I received your letter,” he said. “You said the matter was urgent.”
Harmony studied the vicar for a moment. His head was topped with silver hair, his face was well-lined with age, and although he wore a kind smile, she had learned firsthand that how a man looked on the outside did not always match what was inside. She suspected he would be willing to do whatever she asked despite his stately bearing. For the right price. Once, she had held him in the highest esteem, but she was not the same naive woman she had once been.
“I am sure you have learned of Isaac’s death,” she said. When he nodded that he had, she continued. “And the claim he would have had over this home if he had not died.”
“There is no claim,” the reverend replied. “All is returned to how it was before his arrival.”
Harmony nodded and extended her hand. “Please, Reverend, sit.”
Reverend Creassey took one of the c
hairs in front of the desk and Harmony sat in the one behind it. Folding her hands neatly in front of her, she hoped her request would not be met with scorn. Yet, she doubted rather highly the good reverend would refuse her anything.
Eleanor had written extensively about her dealings with the vicar, but Harmony had discontinued reading after the first mention of the man. Partly because of the events of the previous weeks, but also because she feared what those pages would contain. It was as if the journals brought about ill fortune, and by refusing to read what remained of those writings, she could keep the bad luck at bay.
“My husband mentioned his uncle Silas,” she said. “I assume you are acquainted with him.”
“Indeed,” the reverend replied. “A most jealous brother.” He narrowed his eyes at her in consideration. “Why do you ask about him? Eleanor had the man sent away.”
Harmony had no idea what the vicar meant. Maybe Eleanor’s journal could explain more, but it did not intrigue her enough to continue reading. She could ask Nathaniel about it later if she so desired. At the moment, there were more pressing matters with which to concern herself. “Although Isaac is now gone, it does not change the fact that the marriage of Charles and Eleanor Lambert is invalid. If this news were to become common knowledge, would Silas not inherit the title and estate?”
Reverend Creassey leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin with a tiny frown. “Indeed, he would. However, I would not concern yourself with this news. I do not see Silas returning anytime soon, especially if he never learns about Isaac and the marriage of his mother to Charles.”
Tightening her fingers in her clasped hands, Harmony tried to control the pounding of her heart. “I love my husband, Reverend,” she said firmly. “And there is nothing I would not do for him. You said I may confide anything to you and it would remain confidential. Is that truly the case?”
“Yes, of course, my child,” the reverend replied. He leaned forward and gave her a kind smile. “What is it you wish to tell me?”
“You are a vicar, a man of the Church who has a great deal of influence. You are also the man who married Charles and Eleanor. You made a record of that date, did you not?”
Reverend Creassey chuckled. “Indeed, I am that man, and yes, I made the notation myself and signed it.”
“Do you have the power to alter the dates, to change what has been noted?”
The vicar rose so quickly that the chair scraped the floor. “You would like me to alter the records to show that the marriage of Charles and Eleanor Lambert came before that of the Thorne woman?” he asked incredulously. “All to keep Nathaniel from harm, I assume?”
Harmony, too, rose. “That is exactly what I propose. I want to make certain that he is secure in his title, that our children never have to worry about this fiasco. I only make this request because I love my husband.”
“To have me consider such a thing goes against everything I stand for,” Reverend Creassey snapped. “That which is right and of the Lord’s work.”
She reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk. “A donation,” she said as she retrieved the small box and placed it on the desktop. “Just think of the number of poor souls you will be able to help with this.”
From the box, she removed a stack of notes and began counting them in front of the vicar. When she was done, she looked up at him. Would he walk away in disgust, or would he do as she expected and accept?
He walked around the desk and came to stand beside her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “You have come to me in a time of need,” he said. “And I see the innocence you once had is now gone.”
Harmony swallowed hard. Did he know her sins? She had yet to confess to him, or anyone who had not been present, what had happened the night Isaac and Forbes died, yet it appeared he already knew.
“We made a promise to one another,” the vicar continued. “You would come to me to seek my counsel and request my aid when the need arose, and that is what you have done today.”
“I do need your help, Reverend. Will you give me your aid?”
Reverend Creassey smiled. “This was how it began with Eleanor,” he said. “A friendship we shared in a time of need. Just as with her, how can I refuse you? Many young women will be helped with this…donation.”
Harmony let out a sigh of relief as he gathered the notes and placed them in the pocket of his coat. “I am glad to see it go to a good cause,” she replied. “Then you will help me in this matter?”
He smiled again. “I will. In time you will need help again. Whether it be for your husband or your children only time will tell, but you will call upon me again, will you not?”
“Yes, Reverend,” Harmony said. “I will always come to you if the need arises.”
He patted the breast of his coat where the money was stored. “I will alter my records today. The others, the main church records, will take at least a month, but it will be done.”
“Thank you,” she said. “May I see you out?”
“There is no need, my child,” the reverend replied. “About our arrangement today…I believe it would be best if you did not burden your husband with it.”
“I agree,” Harmony replied. “He has enough burdens to carry at the moment.”
“Then it is our secret,” Reverend Creassey said with a tiny smile, as if he were speaking to a child he had given a sweet against the wishes of her mother.
Once the man was gone, Harmony dropped into the chair and let out a heavy sigh. Yes, it was her secret, one that would see her husband’s title secured. And although she would never speak that secret aloud to another soul, she needed some way to bring herself relief.
Therefore, she moved a ledger aside and removed the journal Eleanor had given her. Several pages had already been filled with all sorts of thoughts since her arrival at Scarlett Hall. Last night, she had included the demise of Isaac. Today, however, she would add a new secret, one concerning the agreement she had made with one Reverend Ambrose Creassey.
For a moment, she paused, the quill at the ready. Considering her words, she smiled and began to write, freeing her soul of yet another secret.
Chapter Thirty-Six
After a significant amount of time — she was uncertain how much — Harmony closed the journal and returned it to its hiding place. No one but her husband would see it, and if he did come across it, the likelihood of him finding interest in it was slim. It was as Eleanor had said — men tended to believe women wrote only about gossip. Yet, it was more than that. Nathaniel valued her privacy, and she could not have been more pleased to know how much her husband trusted her.
Now that she had put to paper her secret, a sense of lightness surrounded her, and she went to take her place at the window. She caught sight of Nathaniel standing beside the great oak tree. Her heart ached for him as he placed a hand to the wounded bark and bowed his head as if in prayer.
Retrieving her overcoat, she made her way outside. Her cheeks burned in the cold air and the dampness made her shiver as she hurried down the path.
“Nathaniel?” she said as she approached him. “Are you all right?”
He did not look up at her as he said, “This tree…my sisters and I used to spend so much time here beneath its boughs. It was here where I would listen to my sisters talk for hours about the day they would marry, although at the time I did not realize what that meant.”
Harmony smiled and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Those are beautiful memories. I would like to hear more about them.”
He turned to face her. “No. I would rather create new memories,” he said, “with my wife, whom I love, and with the children we will one day have.” He shook his head and looked at the tree once more. “If those dreams come to pass, that is.”
“We are here,” she urged. “All has been righted.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “All is not right, not until I tell you something, for I carry a heavy burden.” He took her hand in his. “I will never
forget the day we met. In that moment, the world became a perfect place. I knew in my heart there was no one else for me. You see, you made me a better man.”
Harmony blinked back tears, but he did not give her a chance to respond.
“When I learned the truth about who my father was, I was devastated. Not only because of what my mother had done, for I now understand why she made the choices she did. No, it was because I was afraid that without my title it would confirm who I was. When we returned from Cornwall to find Isaac waiting for us, it was yet another confirmation I was unwilling to accept.” When he looked up at her, he gave her such a beseeching look, she nearly wept. “I was afraid. Terribly afraid.”
“I was scared, as well,” she said soothingly. “There is nothing wrong with that.”
“No, but it was you who had to remind me that there are more important things in life than a title. That being a baron does not define who I am, nor is it why you fell in love with me. I lost sight of that and instead of going to the one person who would understand me, I withdrew my heart from her.”
A light breeze rose around them, sending several leaves floating to the ground to join others that had fallen before them.
Nathaniel placed his lips to her hand. “From this moment forward, I shall always go to you to unburden myself. And I will always listen to the woman I love. For I do love you, Harmony, and I pray you will forgive me for my wretched behavior over the past few months.”
Unable to keep the tears from flowing, Harmony embraced her husband. As the two held one another, she decided to express the thoughts that arose in her mind, as well.
“I also have something I wish to share with you,” she said. “As I watched you lose yourself, I realize now how little I listened to you concerning your brother. I am not sure why, but I believed him to be honorable. If I would have listened to you, perhaps everything would have ended differently.”
“No,” Nathaniel replied. “You followed your heart and your motives were pure. You did exactly what the woman I had come to love would do.”
Cry of the Baroness: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 9 Page 22