by Joyce Alec
“You said at the very beginning that the gentleman you are at present is not the gentleman you have always been,” she reminded him as he shook his head and then closed his eyes tightly, his jaw working furiously. “Mayhap the gentleman you once were is the sort of man that, if you were honest with yourself, you might truly wish to return to.” Stepping away from him, she let her words linger in the air as she made her way back to her chair, sitting down carefully and reaching to pour a little more tea. It was still warm enough, which was something of a blessing, for she certainly could do with a little sustenance at the present moment.
She watched Lord Farrington as he remained exactly where he was, his back to her and his frame rigid with tension. Her heart was glad indeed that he had told her everything, even if she had been forced to use rather untoward methods. It was clear that Lord Farrington himself was deeply displeased with her. That was something she could not help, and she did feel guilt begin to niggle its way into her soul. However, guilt was not something she could dwell on at the present moment. Lord Farrington had not caused her husband’s death, but the information he revealed brought her closer to discovering the truth. She wondered whether or not what he had said was cause for further concern as regarded Lord Timothy.
“You believed me to have killed your husband.”
Lord Farrington did not turn his head as he spoke but his words carried clearly toward her. Josephine considered this for a moment and then took a sip of her tea before she replied.
“When I spoke to Lord Kingston, he informed me that you were the gentleman I had to go to next, to find out whatever it was that he would not tell me,” she said practically. “I was sure that there was something gravely serious that I had not yet been informed of and yes, I suppose that a part of me considered whether or not you were the guilty party.”
“But I am not.” He rounded on her, storming toward her with a look of great anger rippling through his features. His eyes were the stormy sea on a dark day, his brows low and his shoulders lifted high. “I would never allow myself to do such a thing.”
“And I could not know that for certain, until you told me the truth of what occurred at the house party,” she told him calmly. “But you would not. I attempted to speak to you of it, as did Lady Fortescue, but on both occasions, you remained determined not to do so.”
“Because we had all agreed that it should be thus,” Lord Farrington bellowed, throwing up his hands, his face now red with anger. “Besides which, there was nothing of significance as regarded your husband’s death. Why should I speak to you about such a painful and mortifying event?”
Tilting her head, Josephine held Lord Farrington’s gaze without a hint of fear flickering into her eyes. “And was it also that you sought to protect yourself?” she asked quietly. “You were determined not to hold any blame to yourself and therefore pushed aside all such feelings of guilt or remorse and instead did all you could to forget what had taken place. But now that you have been forced to remember all that you did and all that you have had to bear since that time, that shame has returned to you completely.” She shrugged, holding up one hand to silence him before he could begin to speak again. “You may consider that to be a very unfair and perhaps painful consequence, but I can assure you that I view this in quite a different light.”
Lord Farrington said nothing in response, simply glaring at her, as his fingers went white as he grasped the back of the chair.
“You are, of course, free to return home now,” she finished, adding yet more tea to her cup. “I should perhaps apologize for all that you have suffered but I shall not apologize for doing what I had to do, Lord Farrington.”
His gaze was scornful. “I should not have expected you to.”
“Good,” she replied crisply. “For it is for the sake of my son that I have done all of this. I have been quite determined to discover the truth ever since the suggestion was made by the doctor that my husband’s death might have been deliberately brought about.”
Lord Farrington’s frown grew all the deeper. “Deliberately?”
“Yes.” Speaking of it brought her no pain now and she was able to talk of it in a very practical manner. “The doctor stated that there are poisons which could have been administered to my late husband without his knowledge, by someone eager for his death.”
This seemed to astonish Lord Farrington somewhat, his anger beginning to lessen. “I see.”
“And when my son was born, I knew then that I had to do all I could to bring the perpetrator to justice. I could not rest unless I had done so,” Josephine finished calmly. “That is why I have been so very eager to know all that occurred at the house party, although I understand now that it could not have been your doing. Your guilt and reluctance to speak came from an entirely different motivation.”
In an instant, the color drained from Lord Farrington’s face. No anger lingered there now but rather an expression of horror, as though she had said something truly dreadful. Josephine could not understand it, watching him carefully but making no comment, silently wondering what it was that had brought about such a change.
She did not have to wait for long. Lord Farrington released his grip on the back of the chair and came to sit down in it, still staring, wide-eyed, at Josephine. Beginning to feel rather uncomfortable and, at the same time, wondering if she would soon be required to fetch a doctor for Lord Farrington, Josephine cleared her throat gently and raised one eyebrow in what she hoped was an enquiring look.
“Lady Rutherford,” Lord Farrington said hoarsely. “Whilst everything in me wishes to remain angry with you, there is something that has occurred to me now that I cannot help but express. In fact, it is of such a great magnitude that it quite overwhelms all else that I feel.”
“Indeed?” Josephine murmured, aware that her inclination was to disbelieve all that he said but knowing in her heart that there was no reason for him to lie or manipulate her now. “And what is that?”
“I did not know of the manner of your husband’s death and the suggestion that he was taken by another’s hand,” he said slowly. “But what has concerned me the most is the mention of your son.” He studied her carefully, his eyes grave. “Might I enquire where he is at present?”
Frowning, Josephine hesitated, then mentally shrugged. There was no reason not to tell him where Henry was, for it was not as though she expected him to go in search of this aunt of hers. “He is residing with a family member,” she said carefully, eyeing the concern in his face and wondering whether or not it was genuine. “Why does it concern you?”
“Because,” Lord Farrington said quickly, “if what the doctor said about your husband is true—that is, that his death was of unnatural means, brought about by another’s hand—then might that suggestion not incline itself toward Lord Timothy?”
Josephine, who had not had much of an opportunity to think of all that Lord Farrington had said and who had been very surprised indeed to learn that there had been such difficulties between her late husband and his brother, let Lord Farrington’s words wash over her slowly. It came as a great shock to realize that his thoughts were the same as her own.
“It would make perfect sense, would it not?” Lord Farrington continued, leaning forward in his chair and looking into her eyes with a great urgency that frightened Josephine all the more. “Lord Timothy expected to be able to use my foolishness in order to meet with his brother. He presumed that, should he speak to his brother alone and face to face, Lord Rutherford would capitulate and give him what he asks. Thus, his estate would be saved, and he would be able to, somehow, restore himself to his wealthy position and continue as he has done before. However, when Lord Rutherford refused, only one solution was open to Lord Timothy.”
A new terror gripped Josephine’s heart. “He will remove Lord Rutherford from his title and, in doing so, claim it entirely for himself,” she said slowly. “All the wealth will be his. The great estate will belong to him.” She stared at Lord Farrington, a clenche
d hand around her heart. “But then, it is discovered that I am with child.”
“And now that you have borne a son, Lord Timothy’s plan cannot proceed as planned,” Lord Farrington continued quietly. “He does not have the title or the wealth. He must step back.”
Josephine shuddered violently. “But he has never approached either myself or Henry in the five years we have lived at the estate without my husband,” she said desperately. “Surely you cannot think that he would harm my child?”
Lord Farrington said nothing but instead simply held her gaze solemnly and at that moment, Josephine knew that Lord Timothy, the man she had never met before in her life, would do whatever he could to take the title of Marquess of Rutherford for himself.
“He may well have remained away from you, Lady Rutherford, for these last years, because you have been well protected at the manor house,” he said quietly. “You have never left there, you have never taken your son away from it. He cannot simply approach you, come to reside at the house, and then depart again when your son is gone. There would be a good many questions asked of him and, most likely, all would know of what he had done.”
Closing her eyes, Josephine drew air into her tight lungs. “He poisoned my husband at the house party, where there were a good many guests present,” she whispered, trembling all over. “And when my husband died at home, away from Lord Stevenson’s manner, it appeared suspicious to no one.”
“Save to you and to the doctor,” Lord Farrington replied firmly. “You have been wise, Lady Rutherford, and I say that as the gentleman you have held captive in this house for many, many days.” His mouth tipped ruefully. “I cannot be angry with you, now that I know the truth of your circumstances. If you had told me so before, whilst I would have been horrified to know of it, I do not believe that I would have told you of what had occurred on my part. I would have been too ashamed to do so, despite the fact that I would like to think that I would have behaved differently.”
Josephine swallowed hard, aware of how hard her heart was pounding. “What can I do?” she asked hoarsely. “My son—he is with an aunt of mine. If Lord Timothy knows that he is out of my care, he could go after him.” Tears began to fill her eyes as panic took a hold of her completely. “What have I done?”
“You have done nothing wrong,” Lord Farrington said, rising to his feet and coming toward her. “Lord Timothy is not yet in London. I…” Clearing his throat, he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “I received a note from him a short time ago, stating that he would be in London on Tuesday.” One shoulder lifted. “I do not know what he meant by writing to me, for I was certain that he was fully aware that our acquaintance was entirely at an end. As yet, I have not replied to him but at least I can be certain that he will, in fact, be returned to London. I cannot say where he has been, however, but only that he will be here on Tuesday.”
Taking in a shuddering breath, Josephine looked up at him desperately. “That is in three days’ time.”
“Then we must act quickly if we are to prove him guilty,” Lord Farrington said firmly, bending down so that he might take her hand in his. “I have done a great wrong, Lady Rutherford. I have hidden my culpability and my shame even from myself, for many years. I must now do what I can to rectify it, even though it is much too late for you and your family.”
Josephine grasped his hand tightly, her throat aching as she struggled to speak. “Lord Farrington, I am truly sorry for holding you in my home against your will. I hope that you can forgive me. And, again, you must know that I do not blame you in any way for what Lord Timothy may have done. You had no way of knowing that he was deceitful and false-hearted.”
In the last few minutes, somehow, she and Lord Farrington had become allies rather than enemies. He had pushed aside his shock and his fury and was now drawing alongside her, desperate to do whatever he could to help her and protect Henry.
“Let us not speak of the past, Lady Rutherford. For now, we must focus on the safety of your son if we are correct about Lord Timothy’s intentions. We must speak to Lord Warwick,” Lord Farrington said quietly. “Might you attend with me now, Lady Rutherford?”
“Now?” Tears slipped from her cheeks and she let go of his hand in order to pull her handkerchief free.
“At once,” came the firm reply. “There is very little time, Lady Rutherford.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes before getting to her feet, looking at Lord Farrington directly. Whatever change had occurred in him, she was not about to question it. She could practically feel the change between them, as though an invisible bond now tied them both together. They had one purpose and one purpose alone. Nothing else was of any consequence.
“Thank you, Lord Farrington,” she said with genuine thankfulness. “Yes, I am ready. Let us go.”
12
Thomas practically threw the door open as he strode into Lord Warwick’s drawing room, not waiting for the footman to open the door or for the butler to announce him. It had been the most extraordinary afternoon thus far and whilst he had a great deal still to consider, he had been overtaken by a great and terrible dread that forced him to act regardless of what he felt.
“Good gracious!”
Lord Warwick was on his feet in a moment, his eyes wide with astonishment as he and Lady Rutherford came into the room.
“I—I thought you were in Bath,” Lord Warwick said as Lady Rutherford took a seat carefully, as though she had quite expected to be present this afternoon. “And now you are here with…Lady Rutherford?” He looked from Thomas to Lady Rutherford and back again before, very calmly, making his way across the room to ring the bell.
“I can only apologize for my rather abrupt entry,” Thomas said, beginning to pace across the room as Lord Warwick watched him with a rather curious expression. “This is a matter of great urgency and I could not wait for even a moment to come and seek your help.”
“I thought you were in Bath,” Lord Warwick said again, sitting down in a chair and crossing one leg over the other. “You are returned to London again on a matter of urgent business?”
Thomas shook his head. “I was never in Bath,” he stated, seeing Lord Warwick’s brows shoot upwards, although a faint smile quirked his lips. “It is much too great an explanation to state at present, but what I shall explain is that we believe that Lord Timothy is the gentleman responsible for the death of Lord Rutherford.”
The change that came into Lord Warwick’s expression was immediate. He stared at Thomas as though he had lost his senses, all trace of good humor gone.
“I have never once met my brother-in-law,” Lady Rutherford said as Lord Warwick’s astonished eyes moved toward her. “Through various discussions…” she glanced at Thomas as she said this, whose lips twitched at her delicate explanation, “we have realized that Lord Timothy must have poisoned my husband.”
Before Thomas could say more, a knock came at the door. It took a moment for Lord Warwick to call for them to enter, upon which the butler announced Lady Fortescue. Thomas looked toward Lord Warwick, who was going a shade of crimson that he had never once seen before.
“Lady Fortescue,” Lord Warwick croaked as the lady came into the room and stared all about her, clearly having expected only Lord Warwick’s company.
“Do sit down,” Thomas heard Lady Rutherford say, her voice warm and her expression gentle. “You may as well know of this all also, Lady Fortescue, for we may need your thoughts come the end of it all.”
Lady Fortescue stammered something as she looked from Lady Rutherford to Lord Warwick and then toward Thomas, her eyes widening in surprise. Lord Warwick brought her to a chair and then immediately ordered two tea trays, although Thomas silently hoped he would be offered something a little stronger.
“Shall we explain fully?” Lady Rutherford said as Lady Fortescue stared at her friend, her face white. “Lord Timothy is the man I have been searching for, Lady Fortescue, and I fear now that he might come to injure Henry.”
Lady
Fortescue gasped, one hand flying to her mouth, whilst Lord Warwick’s brow furrowed hard. Quickly, Thomas began to explain all that they had discussed and all that they had concluded, leaving no detail out save for the reason he had been at Lady Rutherford’s abode in the first place.
Tea trays were brought in and served and still, Lady Rutherford and Thomas continued to speak. It was not until some minutes later that they finished, looking at each other as they did so.
Thomas’ heart quickened as Lady Rutherford smiled at him, albeit a little sadly. By rights, he should be furious with the lady and should only be aiding her because he felt obliged but, instead, there was a true concern deep within his heart that he could not fully explain. There was an admiration for the lady, an acknowledgement, at least, that she was quite extraordinary and singular in her determination. He had found himself plunged into the depths of his past, forced to speak of regrets and guilt and shame, finally admitting aloud that he had been responsible for a good many ills, and whilst he had hated doing so, Thomas had to now admit that there came a sense of freedom that had not been a part of his life before. It was all rather new and still a little extraordinary but there was certainly no anger held toward Lady Rutherford. Thomas could not fully explain it but there was only a deep concern for her and for her son’s safety. He wanted to be here, wanted to do all he could to help her. He would not return home and simply forget about her sorrow and her trial. No, rather, Thomas fully intended to stay by her side until he could be quite certain that all had been brought to a swift conclusion.
“Good gracious,” Lord Warwick murmured when both Thomas and Lady Rutherford had finished speaking. “That is…terrible.”
“I cannot believe you have discovered the truth of the matter, after all this time!” Lady Fortescue exclaimed, looking toward Lady Rutherford. “And through Lord Farrington, of all people.”