“You don’t know that one of his friends doesn’t have a Corinthian or nonpareil for a relative.”
Leaning forward, Aunt Beth pressed her hand against my forehead for a moment. “The fever has not returned. There is no reason for this kind of talk. You were careful to keep your name free from this matter, were you not? You can freely go about society once again.”
But there had been a reason that hadn’t happened before I had set out on my quest. Aunt Beth had few friends and did not go out herself. That hadn’t changed. There wasn’t anyone to sponsor me or invite me anywhere.
Maybe Lady Leith would be kind enough to send me an invitation for tea the next time she was in town.
“Leave it to me,” Aunt Beth said with a determined nod. “I will think of something.”
“It’s not important right now.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. “Can you imagine what kind of story I will have to come up with to explain this scar to a husband?”
“It has always been my understanding that the best marriage is one that is founded on honest communication.” Aunt Beth’s tone was serious. “Whoever you marry will have to know about this adventure. Before you marry him.”
The thought twisted my stomach. Would any man understand? I wasn’t sure I could have that much trust in a man again. “Now. I am going to insist Frederick have tea with me,” Aunt Beth said, patting my hand. “Do you need anything?”
I opened my eyes and smiled at her. “No. Maybe a book to read? I haven’t had that pleasure these past few months.”
“I will have Carter bring you something.”
Perhaps the drama contained in the pages of a book would distract me. Though I knew it served no purpose than to agitate myself, I couldn’t keep from thinking about what could have been, how things might have turned out differently.
Had Jonathan given some hint of trouble that I had been oblivious to? Had my father? What if my mother had cautioned me not to fall in love with the first man to pay attention to me?
Or had Henry Bladen ever revealed his true nature and I missed it? If I had been more observant, would I have seen the truth? If I had taken more notice of where I kept seeing him, would I have been able to avoid the confrontation in the garden?
What if, what if, what if!
Aunt Beth might declare that it was long past time for me to return to a normal life. Was life ever going to be normal now? How could it with everything I had seen, learned, and endured?
“Miss Rycroft said you wanted something to read,” Carter said as she entered. “You’re feeling up to the task?”
Though I was tired from my conversation with Aunt Beth, I’d slept so much in the past few days that I didn’t want to do anymore. “I think I can manage,” I answered honestly. “At least for a short time. What, has my aunt read anything of interest while I was away?”
“There was a new novel by the author of Sense and Sensibility that she enjoyed very much.”
I remember when we had read that novel together the previous year and how much we both had enjoyed the fictional tale. “That will do very well. Something witty will be just the thing to take my mind off everything.”
But Carter hesitated. “There is a letter, Miss Juliet,” she said slowly.
“A letter?” There were a few friends I still corresponded with so the fact that a letter had arrived was no real surprise. Why hadn’t Aunt Beth given it to me straight away or read it to me as soon as it had arrived? “I will read that then and save the novel for later.”
Carter shook her head. “I suppose I should clarify. It is a letter for Miss Julie Nelson.”
My heart began to beat wildly. Who would send a letter to Julie Nelson at this address? “I see,” I managed to say, holding out my hand. “Well. I’ll see who has written to me.”
The woman stepped forward and put the missive into my hand. “Miss Rycroft is not aware that it has come,” she said in a low voice. “With all that has happened, I thought she would tell me to burn it.”
Surely not! It was not hers to destroy. What if it contained important information? But...she had warned me not to begin my quest and I had frightened her when I had arrived so ill. Maybe she thought she was protecting me.
“Thank you, Carter,” I said, turning the letter over in my hand. There were only a handful of people I could think of who would write to Julie Nelson. The handwriting was familiar, though I couldn’t put a name to it immediately.
“I appreciate you have not mentioned the part I played in Mr. Bladen’s pursuit of you, Miss,” Carter said quietly. “Given the man’s true nature, Miss Rycroft would not easily forgive what she would see as a betrayal. Even if she was as eager as anyone to see you happily wed.”
Not exactly an apology, but it was the best I could hope for from her. “The less we say on the matter, the better. You thought you were doing what was best.”
Nevermind that it was presumptuous for anyone to imagine they might know what was best for me. I alone could be the judge of that, and I was not about to let anyone interfere in my life again.
With a nod, Carter withdrew from the room and I was able to devote all my attention to the letter. Taking a deep breath, I broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
“Miss Nelson,
I hope you have recovered from the unfortunate attack...”
The hand was not Lady Leith’s and she would have written to me directly. Narrowing my eyes, I studied the handwriting. Yes, I had seen it before, but only once. That, coupled with how few people knew about the attack, I knew that this letter had been written by Mr. Oswyn Harper.
Chapter Nineteen
After the insensitive remark the last time I had spoken to the man, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to hear from Mr. Harper. What could he possibly have to tell me? My curiosity was too strong to set the letter aside, so I continued reading.
“It was a surprise to learn you had left Clarendon so soon and with no warning to anyone about your intentions. Sir Horace and I still had questions for you. I shall put them to you the next time we meet, though, so don’t think you have avoided telling us all that happened in the maze.”
Snorting, I shook my head. When did he imagine that we would meet? He believed I was a maid and thus I was beneath the notice of a gentleman. Unless said gentleman had unseemly designs on the maid.
But, no. I couldn’t believe that of Mr. Harper. Not yet, anyway.
“I have not altered my opinion that your actions this year have been impetuous and ill-advised, but I cannot deny that you have been useful. Sir Horace and I had become certain that Bladen was the man we were after. We just had not found the proof. You did. I have no doubt we would have done so in time.”
Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. Damned with faint praise. Was his intention to write simply to gloat? To explain that though I had found the truth, he would have as well? I should just put the letter aside and ignore any further criticism he had about what I had done. I didn’t need to read that I had done wrong or that I had been a fool.
Why had he taken the time and effort to write if that was the case? What would that gain him? There had to be more to it than a chance to scold me. It took more effort for me to continue reading once again.
Before he died, Henry Bladen offered us a few clues as to who were part of the conspiracy against Britain. There are more than one at work in London still. I believe we have now been able to narrow down who gave Bladen his orders. He may have been the one to kill my friend, but it was not his decision to do so.
My heart was in my throat at the words, and I had to read them a second time to believe what I was seeing. Not Henry’s decision? How could Mr. Harper say such a thing! “It was very much his decision,” I muttered. Even if someone had ordered Henry to do the deed, it was his choice to do so. He could have refused.
Couldn’t he?
Once again, I shook my head, though it did little to dispel my confusion. After so much uncertainty about who had killed Jonathan, it
had been a relief to know the truth and who was to blame. Now, Mr. Harper was telling me there was someone else?
“Who would Henry have listened to?” I wondered out loud. He’d introduced me to a few of his friends when he was courting me, but I couldn’t claim to know any of them well. Were one of them involved in this tangled mess. “Oh, why is he telling me this?”
The only way for me to learn that was for me to continue reading the letter.
Due to the questions I asked five years ago, and the renewed interest I showed this year, I’m afraid it has become harder for me to follow this clue. Sir Horace has suggested that, once you recover, you might be in a position to be of some help to us. As a woman, you will be unnoticed and perhaps be able to overhear information we can use to bring all the traitors to justice.
Was he really suggesting that I be his spy?
After all his warnings that I was in over my head and that I didn’t know what I was involved in, he was asking for my help? It was enough to make me laugh! Did he really make himself such a nuisance that he couldn’t continue his search?
My smile faded almost as soon as it had formed. Wouldn’t I have done the same five years ago if I had been in a position to do so? If I had known my brother had been murdered, there would have been nothing that could have stopped me from asking every question to every person I could find who might have been able to tell me the truth.
Is that what Mr. Harper had done? I knew he had been a close friend to Jonathan, so it was possible he had made such great efforts to learn who had killed my brother.
Wait. Did that mean Mr. Harper’s next suspect was in London?
“No,” I breathed. I’d done enough, hadn’t I? Why should I risk my reputation even more? Granted, Mr. Harper wouldn’t know that would be such personal consequences for me, but he must believe there would be some kind of danger.
My thoughts were a tangled mess. How dare he do this to me?
I understand after what happened with Bladen you may feel reluctant to provide assistance. I would not ask if there were some other option open to us. Sir Horace has convinced me that this is our best chance to stop these traitors once and for all.
Could he really know that? What if they caught whoever had been in league with Henry only to learn that there were even more involved? What then? How far would he go?
Please contact me as soon as you can. Yr servant, O. Harper.
Breathing out, I folded the letter. I would have to ask Carter for paper and write a firm refusal. I had done enough, sacrificed enough. Now I wished to look to my own future and put the past behind me.
Though I closed my eyes, I couldn’t fall asleep and I wasn’t able to push the letter completely out of my mind. Was I making the right decision?
AN HOUR LATER, AND I had still not managed to put the matter out of my mind. Knowing how proud Mr. Harper was, it must have been desperation indeed that had compelled him to ask me for help. Surely, though, he would be able to find a way to manage without me.
Wouldn’t he?
Aunt Beth entered then. All thoughts of Mr. Harper and his request fled as I took in the expression on the old woman’s face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Frederick is a three inch fool!”
Her voice trembled, and I couldn’t discern whether it was from anger or some other emotion. “What is he saying now?”
“He says I should take you to the country!”
Somehow, I felt there had to be more to her anger than that. “Uncle Frederick does realize that such a trip will not be easy to arrange at this time of year, does he not? And it will be an expense.”
“He says the sale of Rycroft House will provide anything we might need!”
A chill went down my spine. So it wasn’t a mere visit to the countryside that my uncle was suggesting. Why would he want Aunt Beth to sell her home? He had no claim to it. Not until she died. “Why does he want you and I to leave London permanently?”
“What he wants is of no importance!”
“But he must have given you a reason to make such a drastic change.”
My aunt paused and shook her head. “His reason is foolish and stupid, and we will not give it any attention. If Frederick thinks he can just come whenever he wishes and give orders, he is very much mistaken. This will not be his house until I am dead, and I do not intend to reach that state just yet!”
“Aunt Beth, sit done,” I urged, concerned that she was exhausting herself. “Tell me what his reason is. Foolish though it may be, we will better know how to reason with him if we consider everything logically. Uncle Frederick cannot argue with logic.”
Though Aunt Beth sat down, her agitation did not abate. “Logic? I know what he will not be able to argue with and that is that I will turn him out onto the street for being an idiot!”
Why wasn’t she just telling me what he had said. “Aunt Beth,” I said as firmly as I could. “Just tell me. I promise I won’t be upset.”
She shook her head. “The last time you listened to rumours, you set off on a foolish quest and look what happened to you!”
Ah. I should have guessed. “Surely it cannot be as bad as my father and Jonathan being traitors,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Besides, who could have spread gossip to Uncle Frederick? He’s only been in London for a few days.”
But my attempt to put my aunt at ease fell flat. “He has heard the same thing from at least six men. They all asked the same thing of him: how had he not realized his sister had married a man who sold information to France?”
My heart sank even more. Oh, no. This was worse than the whispers and the implied accusation in the gossip section of the Times. Then, it had merely been supposition, and no one has said it outright.
“That is slander!” I exclaimed. “There has been no proof of any such thing! Where did they hear it?”
Mr. Burnham had promised he would counter the rumours! Had his voice been insufficient against the tide of gossip? Why was this piece of gossip being repeated so many months after it first surfaced?
“Frederick didn’t think to question them on the matter.”
What? Why not? I knew my uncle had never been fond of my father. Their relationship had been polite but not friendly. “You can’t mean that my uncle believes such malicious lies!
“He does! He said it must be true since so many of his friends have all told him the same thing.”
Who was spreading these lies? Henry was dead, and he hadn’t been in London for some time before he died. Brides, the valet of Mr. Burnham, was also dead. Neither of them could be the source of this outrage.
Mr. Harper was right, then. There was someone in London, who’d worked with my former beau in some way, and that person was doubling down on the lies. To protect themselves, perhaps?
“Juliet? What are you thinking?”
Aunt Beth’s apprehensive voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She was staring at me, her anxiety even more apparent. “I’m thinking I want to know what Uncle Frederick said to his friends,” I lied. “Surely, he must have told them it was ridiculous, didn’t he?
Slowly, my great-aunt shook her head. “From what I gathered, all he said was that many people can put on an act and he had never liked your father in the first place.”
Worse and worse! Now there were six more men in the world who believed the lies and would repeat the story with the added detail that the family did not even try to deny it. If it hadn’t already, the story would grow and become even more outrageous.
There would be no fighting it then. I’d thought finding the man who had killed my family would be enough; that the rumours would slowly die.
But it hadn’t. Everything I had done had been for nothing. My family’s name was being muddied worse than before I had set out to bet to the bottom of the matter. What was I supposed to do now?
“I won’t go,” Aunt Beth said, her tone stubborn. She paused and then added, “Unless you want to leave the city, Juliet. Perhaps the country and a quiet lif
e would be best after everything that has happened. Who knows? There may be a country gentleman in search of a wife.”
The forced optimism broke my heart. That she was willing to give up her home if she thought it would benefit me was more than I could bear.
“No. No, Aunt Beth.” Instinctively, I tried to reach out, but she was on my left side, and the movement jarred my wound. Sucking in a breath, I paused to let the pain subside. “You will not sell Faircroft for me or for any country gentleman.”
Aunt Beth leaned forward and gently patted my leg. “Then, stay we will,” she said. “You will stand firm against Frederick and whatever he might say. We are independent women and we are not to be ordered about, however well-meaning he might be.”
She seemed to have regained her usual confidence. I forced a smile to reassure her. My own thoughts were more of a tangle than ever.
THE NEXT MORNING, AFTER a night of restless sleep, I thought myself able to leave my bed. After a long discussion in which my opinion was not considered, my aunt and Carter decided that there would be no harm in me making the attempt. With Carter’s help, I dressed in a loose morning gown.
For the first time since the attack, I was able to take in my own appearance. I was pale, paler than I ever remembered being. There were shadows under my eyes. Even with my hair tastefully arranged in an elegant coiffe, I looked rather haggard.
“Well, even if I were invited somewhere, no one would give me a second look,” I said with a slight laugh. “Not even if he was a country gentleman in search of a wife.”
“Nonsense,” Carter responded seriously. “A little time in the sun and you will be as right as rain.”
“Thank you, Carter.”
The maid moved to the door and then paused. “Don’t go too far without me, Miss Juliet,” she warned.
“I won’t.”
After all, the garden was not far at all.
I waited a few minutes after Carter left, just to be sure she wasn’t lurking outside. No one was in sight as I entered the hallway. Though I went to the main staircase first, the raised voices of Aunt Beth and my uncle sent me back to the servants staircase.
Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society Series, #3) Page 17