The two men exchanged glances and nodded their agreement. “Is there anything else you would like to tell us, Miss Nelson? Did Bladen say anything in the maze? Anything at all?” Sir Horace asked.
Henry Bladen had said a great deal. “Nothing of importance. He did try to persuade me to give myself up,” was all I said. My conversation in the maze had been highly personal. I refused to divulge it, though I knew it would no doubt be enlightening to the men. It would bring them too close to my secret.
After all, I still had to return home with my reputation intact.
“Thank you for your candour, Miss Nelson,” Sir Horace said. “Harper and myself may need to ask you some questions again once we have had time to discuss matters.”
Of course they would. Mr Harper hesitated in the doorway just long enough to say. “I’m sorry you were hurt in this mess, Miss Nelson. Though I did warn you to stay clear of it, did I not?”
How dare he? Celia practically pushed him out the door. “I’ll have tea brought up, shall I?” she said, turning to me. “I think we both could use it. Unless you would rather have something stronger?”
“Tea will be fine,” I said, closing my eyes. My anger leached away as I didn’t have the energy to hold onto it. I would have to give Mr. Harper a piece of my mind the next time I saw him.
She was only gone for a few minutes and then she sat by my bedside once again. “The dowager is positively gleeful about taking over as hostess,” she said. “But at least she is occupied.”
“Surely your guests are suspicious about you spending so much time away from them.” I peeked open one eye to look at her.
Her cheeks flushed with colour and she cleared her throat. “Well, it is possible I have pleaded indisposition. My guests have assumed it because of my being...in an interesting condition.”
I let out a laugh. “Well done. Anything to avoid your guests.”
“It’s not as though I wanted this party in the first place,” she said defensively. She paused. “What did Mr. Bladen really say to you in the maze? He discovered who you were, didn’t he?”
How had she guessed that?
“Really, Juliet,” she continued, her tone serious. “It was written all over your face when my husband asked if Mr. Bladen had said anything in the maze. You hesitated.”
Had I? “I wonder Mr. Harper did not notice. He usually does.”
“I think he may have assumed you were in pain from your wound.”
Given that my arm was throbbing with pain, I could understand why someone might make that assumption. I forced myself to concentrate and said, “I did face Mr. Bladen. He was shocked and then horrified to see what he had done and who I was. And then, he was furious.”
“How did he know he should flee the estate?”
“First he berated me for being a fool and then threatened to kill me.” I hesitated before I admitted, “He said I had betrayed him. I told him I would extend him more mercy than he’d had for my family. The only chance I would give him was to run and hope he had enough time to get to whatever safety he thought he could find.”
Celia shook her head. “I know how hard that must have been for you, Juliet, but I think you did the right thing.”
Had I? Would it have been better for Mr. Bladen if I’d convinced him to turn himself in? If he’d agreed to give up those he worked for, would he have been shown some leniency? Why hadn’t I tried?
Deep down, though, I knew Henry wouldn’t have agreed to anything of the sort. His pride would not have let him. Perhaps it was better for him to die quickly rather than suffer the indignity of being a prisoner, being tried, and finally hung for his actions.
“Is there anything you need or want?”
At that point, there was only one thing I wanted. “I’d like to go home.”
Although my childhood home was forever lost to me, Aunt Beth’s house in London was my home now. I’d been away from Aunt Beth for several months, and her company would be just what I needed.
Celia hesitated. “As soon as the doctor says you are strong enough—”
“No,” I interrupted. “If I know doctors, he will be cautious and advise me to remain in this bed for at least a week.”
“You cannot think the journey to London is a good idea. Not immediately.”
“Please.” I couldn’t put into words just how much I wanted to be as far from Clarendon as I could get. “I want to see my aunt and put this all behind me.”
With a sigh, Celia nodded. “If you insist. I’ll summon the doctor for you this evening, and if he is satisfied you are healing, I will have a carriage made ready for you first thing tomorrow.”
By the end of the week, I would be back in the safety of my aunt’s home.
“Thank you, Celia.”
THE DOCTOR FROWNED over me that evening and shook his head. He said I was healing as well as could be expected but must be careful not to overextend myself. Neither Lady Leith nor myself made mention of my intention to leave. Dr. Carter left a sleeping draft and laudanum in case the pain worsened.
Though my arm did pain me, I refused to take either. I wanted to be in full possession of my wits for my journey to London.
At daybreak, I was awake, having slept little during the night. My bag was packed with my belongings. Fanny, who had taken over my duties as lady’s maid, came up to help me dress. Then, it was down the servants’ staircase to the kitchen door.
The maids paused as I went past. Mrs. Horner admonished them for staring and sent them to carry on with their tasks. She took my bag from Fanny and walked with me outside. “Lady Leith wished for you to have this quarter’s wages.”
She pressed a leather bag into my left hand, and the weight was more than I was expecting. “What? No. This is far too much,” I protested, trying to push it back. “I cannot accept this.”
“You must. It is best not to argue when a lady is generous and you have more than earned it,” Mrs. Horner said, curling my fingers around it. She turned to hand my bag to the groom. “Safe journey, Miss Nelson.”
I took one last look at the house which had sheltered me and broken my heart. Although I knew it would be impossible, I wished I’d been able to say goodbye to young Mr. Leith and Lady Leith. Breathing out, I climbed into the carriage and left Clarendon behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
I have few memories of the journey to London. The carriage was well sprung with velvet on the seats, and the movement lulled me to sleep quickly. My sleep was not restful, however, as nightmares haunted and then awakened me.
Whenever the carriage stopped to change horses, the driver came to the door and asked if I wished to step out for a moment. Only once did I do so, to relieve myself. I had no appetite and the tepid tea offered turned my stomach the one time I did accept the offering.
When night fell, we were forced to stay overnight at a respectable inn. My fatigue and pain must have been written on my face because the innkeeper’s wife guided me to my room and ensured I was warm. She also ordered my evening meal brought to my room, though I did little more than pick at it. My arm ached more and more with each passing hour, and the pain kept me awake that night.
The second day of my journey was worse. Whether from the sleepless night or I’d strained my injury from climbing in and out of the carriage, I was in more pain. My head felt as though it were on fire, and coherent thought seemed an impossibility. I could only trust the driver was an honest man.
By the time the carriage pulled to a stop in front of Faircroft House, it was dark and I felt sicker than I ever remember. The driver opened the door. “It don’t look like anyone was expecting you, miss. You wait right here while I awaken the house.”
Too tired to speak, I gave a nod. He must have seen, or else he assumed I had heard him, because he closed the door. There had to be someone awake inside the house. Perhaps only Carlson, the butler, ensuring the doors were secured for the night? He would let me in.
As I waited, I rested my head against the cushion.
Did I fall asleep, even for a moment? The next thing I knew the door was open once again. “Miss Juliet!” Carlson’s elderly voice exclaimed. I forced my eyes open. He had a lantern in his hand. “Good heavens! Come in at once. What has happened to you?”
“Please make sure the driver is fed and has a place for the night,” I said as I climbed out of the carriage. “Is my aunt asleep?”
“I’ve sent Carter to inform Miss Rycroft of your arrival,” Carlson said, without really answering my question. He waved for the footman to come get my luggage. “You do look done in, Miss Juliet. You must have had a bad time of it.”
My toe caught and I stumbled. Carlson caught my arm, thankfully not my injured one, and kept me from falling. He was stronger than he appeared to be for being a man who must be in his seventies. “There, there, Miss Juliet,” he said in a soothing tone. “Step carefully. We’ll look after you now.”
He guided me into the house. There was a candle on the side table. Carter came rushing down the stairs with a candle in her hand. “Miss Juliet! What’s happened to you?” She put her arm around my waist and guided me towards the stairs. “Come along, you poor thing. You look done in.”
If I looked as bad as I felt, it was no wonder they were concerned about me. “Have you been ill, Miss Juliet?” Carter asked as we walked. “My goodness, you’re burning up!”
“In a manner of speaking,” I managed to say. Everything seemed to be tilting and moving. “My uncle hasn’t arrived yet, has he?” The last thing I needed was for him to be at home and woken by this commotion. What would he say? What story would I tell him?
To my relief, the maid shook her head. “You’re safe,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Now, will you be telling me what happened or shall Miss Rycroft have to worry about you until she can get the information out of you?”
“I found him, Carter. The man who killed my family,” I found myself confessing heedless of who might have been within earshot. She alone of my aunt’s servants knew about my quest and what I had really been doing while away. “And he did not take kindly to my discovery.”
“Never say you were attacked again!”
“He shot me.” How many times had I been attacked in the last year? More than any other young ladies my age I would wager.
“Do you mean to say you have travelled all this way after being shot? You foolish, foolish child.” she exclaimed in horror. “What were you thinking?”
“Shot? Is that what I just heard? Juliet Elizabeth Sinclair, what has happened? What is the meaning of this?” Aunt Beth asked. Her dressing gown fluttered around her as she rushed towards me. Her frail arms came around me. “You didn’t mean gunshot, did you?” she asked as she embraced me.
Pain shot through my arm at the embrace. “I’m afraid I did,” I said, breathing deeply to fight off the blackness that crept along the edge of my vision. The gentle scent of lavender my aunt favoured filled my nostrils. “Aunt, please...”
Aunt Beth released me. “Did I hurt you?”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. “I’m alright. The doctor who saw to me said it should heal.”
“Yes, but I’m sure he didn’t intend for you to travel in this state!” Aunt Beth’s scolding tone shifted. “Was it worth it, Juliet? Did you bring the villain to justice?”
“He’s dead. He won’t hurt another person again.” Tears filled my eyes. “Oh, Aunt Beth. I’ve been such a fool. I have been so stupid.”
“Of course you are not a fool or stupid,” Aunt Beth said, putting her hand on my left arm. “You’re simply overtired and in pain. That makes it all seem worse than it is. Come. We will put you to bed and see how bad this wound is.”
With my aunt on one side and Carter on the other, I was helped to my room. The air was cold and damp. No one had been in it since I had left. “This is intolerable. I will get one of the maids up here immediately,” Carter said with a disapproving frown. She hurried out of the room to do just that.
Honestly, the air felt wonderful. I was warm and I shouldn’t have been. “You have a fever,” Aunt Beth said, resting her hand against my forehead. “Oh, I hope there is no infection. When were you hurt? Should we summon a physician?”
“And how would we explain what happened?” I asked as I pulled my gloves off. Why did it take so much energy to do such a simple act? “No, just let me rest. I’m sure I will rally in the morning. I just need some sleep.”
“You little fool,” Aunt Beth said, though she’d just assured me I was not a fool. She shook her head. “I’ll have the cook prepare a poultice and some broth. When was the last time you ate something?”
“See. Even you believe I am a fool.” I’d made so many mistakes and been mistaken in so many things. Had I done anything right these past few months or had I stumbled on the truth despite my best efforts?
Suddenly, Carter was beside me and she started undoing the buttons of my dress. “Juliet, let’s have this conversation at another time,” Aunt Beth said, her tone gentle. “Right now, you need rest. We’re going to make sure you are yourself soon enough.”
“It was Henry Bladen,” I said, unable to keep the information to myself. “He was a traitor to the crown because he wanted money. He killed Jonathan when my brother discovered the truth, and then he killed my parents because Jonathan had told Father what he’d learned.”
Behind me, Carter gasped. “Mr. Bladen, miss? Are you sure?”
“You cannot mean that charming man who had been courting you five years ago?” Aunt Beth exclaimed in genuine disbelief. “The young man who came back and was so agreeable? Who paid you such attention?”
“That charming and agreeable man tried to kill me!” I felt obliged to point out.
“Well, he was perfectly charming when he was here, and I can only assume it was his charm that kept his true nature being revealed,” Aunt Beth said, waving her hand. “We can decide on a more fitting description for him later on when we can give it the kind of attention it needs.”
Carter cleared her throat and pulled my dress over my head. Was she worried I would reveal the part she had played in passing on Henry’s messages? I wouldn’t do that. It would be the end of her service in Rycroft House, since Aunt Beth did not take betrayal lightly.
I’d just hav to remember to tell her privately not to do it again. But that was unlikely anyway. Who would try to send me messages now?
Moving my arm sent pain stabbing down to the tips of my finger and up my shoulder to my neck. “I told him to run if he didn’t want to face what he’d done,” I said, somehow unable to stop talking. “Sir Horace and Mr. Harper went after him and now Henry is dead.”
“Hush, Juliet,” Aunt Beth said gently. Her frail hand caught mine. “It’s not important any more. Let’s just get you in bed and you can get the rest you need. And don’t you worry about Frederick. He won’t bother you if he shows his knotty pated face here.”
His what? I didn’t even try to work out what kind of insult she had just delivered. I had no doubt she would be able to keep Uncle Frederick from bothering me, though. For the first time in many months, I was able to put my head down and fall asleep immediately.
I SPENT FOUR DAYS IN my bed. Every time I opened my eyes, headache and fever made me long for the oblivion of sleep once again, even though dreams disturbed my sleep. Again and again, I found myself in the maze, either running for my life with Henry right behind me or I was facing him and his gun again.
Aunt Beth or Carter were by my side each time I jerked out of sleep, a cool cloth in hand for my head and soft words to reassure me I was safe. Even as ill as I felt, I could see the worry in their eyes.
On the fifth day, I had the strength to sit up and finally relate my entire story to Aunt Beth. I admitted to what had really happened in Bath, since that was something I’d kept to myself so that she wouldn’t worry over me. Once I had explained how I had come to return home, I was exhausted but relieved to have no more secrets.
“So, you see,” I said, peering at my
aunt. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. “I was a fool. Five years ago, and even more so these past few months. The answer was in front of me all that time.”
“You have endured far more than a young lady ought to have faced, but I still would not call you a fool,” Aunt Beth said after several seconds of silence. “I met the young man, you know. I would never have thought he was capable of such heinous acts.”
“There must have been something that Jonathan took as a warning. I wish I knew what it was.”
“There’s no use wishing for a miracle. You are correct that your uncle need never hear any of this. I cannot imagine how he would react, though heaven knows you have done more to protect this family and the country than he ever has.”
“Has Uncle Frederick returned then?”
Aunt Beth nodded, her lips thinning into a straight line. “He arrived yesterday and has since shut himself up in the library. He claims he has a serious paper to write on his travels and explorations.”
Relieved, I heaved a sigh. Though it was a little lowering to realize just how indifferent he was to me, at least I would not have to worry about my uncle being curious about what had made me ill. “Well, perhaps he will be able to clear up a little of the mystery. He made Henry leave without a word. Why did he do that?”
“True. I will have to question him on that point.” Aunt Beth’s tone had taken on an almost eager note.
“Has he said any more about arranging a marriage for me?”
“I rather think my nephew has little attention to spare for such a mundane task.”
Then why had he been so concerned a few months ago? I shook my head, unsure if I really wanted to know. “Well. At this point, the son or nephew of one of his friends might be my only chance at marriage.”
“And why should that be? You deserve more than a dull, bookish man who is only concerned about the latest scientific findings!”
Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society Series, #3) Page 16