The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower
Page 17
Gabriel…
Her heart whispered his name as if it were a prayer.
Gabriel was mucking out the horse stalls in the stables when a shadow fell across him, blocking the light from the open doorway. He looked up to find his father standing over him, watching his progress with a thoughtful expression upon is face.
“Is something amiss, Father?” Gabriel paused in his work to give the older man his full attention.
“No,” the elder Rowan shook his head. “Not on my account, but I will admit that I have been concerned for you, my son. You have not been yourself since the arrival of Lady Diana and even less so since her departure. Is there anything that you wish to tell me, son?”
Gabriel sighed and he felt his shoulders sag a bit at the thought.
“My apologies, Father. I did not intend for my melancholy to be seen by others.”
“I care not for appearances, Gabriel. I care for your wellbeing. You are in love with the girl. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I am,” Gabriel admitted resignedly, “but that matters not. She is of noble birth and I am not. There is nothing else that can be done.”
His father’s frown deepened, and a genuine sadness passed over his features. “I am sorry, son.”
Gabriel shook his head. “It is the life that we were born to. There is nothing for it.”
Gabriel’s father stood holding his eyes for a moment longer before breaking the contact and moving on to his true purpose for being there.
“I have received a missive from the Earl of Appley requesting that you act as his guide to the family’s Welsh estate.”
“I thought that the Earl had returned home.”
“He had, but apparently whatever it was that had called him back has been resolved and he wishes to continue his quest for Lady Diana’s hand.” His father frowned. “I am sorry to ask this of you. I would do it myself, but you were requested. Apparently, you have impressed him with your skills.”
“The Marquess will not be pleased. He left me here for the very reason that you pity me.”
“His Lordship will understand, and you need not remain in Wales, but may return home immediately upon the Earl’s deliverance, unless ordered otherwise. You are a man of honor, a truly good man to the very core of your being, and I have faith that you will choose what is right regardless of what that might be.”
“I am not entirely certain that honor is enough.”
“Perhaps not, when it comes to love. We all falter when it comes to matters of the heart, but please proceed with caution, my son. The world is oft not how we would wish it to be, but it can always show itself to be worse.”
Gabriel studied his father’s face for a moment in silence, knowing that he spoke the truth, but unable to leave their conversation on such a dire note.
“Perhaps that is because we do not give it a true opportunity to be better.” He was not at all certain that he actually meant what he said, but part of him felt that there was indeed a truth to it that went beyond the known, a deeper calling of the heart and mind that transcended the familiar state in which they lived. “But as you say, I am an honorable man and will do nothing to cause you or our family any shame or difficulty.”
“You could never bring shame upon anyone, especially not your mother and I.”
“Let us pray that I have the strength not to disappoint you both.”
Diana waited in her room for Frances to come from helping Georgette. When Frances arrived, Diana told her of the way the maid had acted about Westwallow.
“You do not think that it has anything to do with what the other maid said about not trusting the Dowager Marchioness do you, My Lady? Many of the household staff at Westwallow are also frightened of her, but none of them would say why,” Frances asked, her brow furrowing in concern.
“Do you think that you could make inquiries without getting yourself into trouble?”
Frances nodded. “I can try.”
“I think that would be for the best. There is something clearly amiss at Westwallow and this might be our best opportunity to discover what it is.”
“It is possible that the staff here will be as uncooperative in answering our questions as those at Westwallow have been.”
“It is likely, but you did not see the fear in that girl’s eyes. She was truly terrified.”
Frances nodded. “I will do my best.”
“That is all that I ask. My parents have placed their trust in the Dowager Marchioness, and I have tried to respect that, but…” She shrugged her shoulders as if to say that certain things were difficult to ignore. “Perhaps it is the product of disgruntled servants or a frailness of spirit, but I cannot help be suspicious that it is something more and I need a distraction from my own worries. Perhaps we can offer these frightened maids something to make their lives better, or at the very least reassure them that their fears are misplaced.”
“I am not certain that they are, My Lady.”
“Nor am I.”
Chapter 26
“She murdered someone,” Frances burst through the door, her face pale and drawn.
“What? Who?” Diana looked up from her book, startled.
“The Dowager Marchioness murdered a baby,” Frances repeated with earnest fervor. She was breathless from running up the stairs.
“Nonsense,” Diana shook her head in disbelief. “Who told you this?”
“The maid Sarah told me the story.”
“That is what she was so frightened of? She believes that the Dowager Marchioness murdered a helpless babe?”
“She does, My Lady.”
“Tell me everything.”
“There was a maid who used to work at Westwallow that would travel with the family, just as Sarah used to do. It is said that this maid caught the eye of the former Marquess and sometime later the maid became with child.”
“With the Marquess’ child?”
“Indeed,” Frances nodded her head solemnly. “That is what she said.”
“I presume that the Dowager Marchioness discovered the truth then?”
“She did.” Frances nodded again, looking uneasy. “Sarah claims that when the babe was born, the Dowager Marchioness took it and killed it.”
“I find all of this terribly difficult to believe.”
“I did as well, but Sarah was quite convinced.”
“Right, then,” Diana adjusted her position in her seat and gestured for Frances to take the seat opposite her. “Tell me everything that she told you exactly how she said it.”
Frances obeyed and told Diana the maid’s story word for word as it was told to her. She spoke about how the late Marquess of Westwallow’s marriage to the Dowager Marchioness had been arranged and that neither party had any say in the matter whatsoever. In all the years that they were wed they had never once loved each other. Apparently, it had been an open arrangement, well known to everyone involved, that the marriage was one of convenience, a business endeavor, to expand both families’ fortunes.
No one had expected wedded bliss, but an heir was required, and they immediately set to seeing the task done. The moment that the Dowager Marchioness was with child, she shut the Marquess out of her bed under the guise of the unborn babe’s health and safety. Once Ernest was born, the Marchioness had made the separation of she and her husband’s bodies permanent. The Marquess had his heir and that was all that mattered.
A few years after Ernest was born, a long-time maid to the family died and a new maid was hired to take her place. The maid was named Caroline and was rumored to have been a beauty beyond compare. According to tales whispered among the staff, the late Marquess fell madly in love with this new maid, besotted by her beauty, along with her kind and gentle nature. From all reports, she could not have been more opposite of the Marchioness if she had tried. Starved for love and affection, the late Marquess was helpless to resist.
The Marquess and the maid had a passionate affair that lasted several months, until Caroline became with child.
The moment that she began to show, their secret affair was brought into question. The Marchioness, discovering her husband’s infidelity, commanded that Caroline be fired and sent away immediately, but the late Marquess would have none of it.
Unable to keep her at Westwallow on the strength of his undying love for her alone, he justified his refusal to dismiss the maid on the grounds that he could not leave a woman, any woman, laden with child to fend for herself. Per the Marquess’ instruction, the maid stayed at Westwallow and in order to protect them both never disclosed the true identity of her child’s father. Though the Marchioness and most of the servants believed the baby to have been the late Marquess’ child, they could never prove it for a certainty.
The Marchioness, certain of her husband’s guilt, never allowed the maid’s presence or her name to be uttered within the walls of Westwallow Manor ever again. Sorrowfully for the Marquess and all those who loved her, Caroline died shortly after giving birth from complications. She was kept in a separate cottage of the estate during the last few weeks of her confinement, away from the prying eyes of the staff and the fury of the Marchioness.
“No one knows for certain among the staff what happened to the baby, or even whether it was a boy or a girl, My Lady. I asked among them cautiously and did not receive any affirmation to it, but Sarah is convinced, as her mother was before her, that the Dowager Marchioness had the babe killed.”
“And why was Sarah’s mother so certain?”
“She was the midwife.”
Gabriel met the Earl of Appley at Kilgrave Manor where he had been instructed to do so in the letter to his father. Appley had returned from the Isle of Wight and ridden straight to speak with the Earl of Kilgrave. Not having ever been to the Marquess of Westwallow’s Welsh estate, Appley had preferred to have a guide.
Little does His Lordship know…
Gabriel thought to himself as he eyed the man by his side. The entire purpose of Lady Diana being taken from Westwallow to Wales was to put some distance between she and Gabriel. Now here Gabriel was, riding straight to her door, with the nobleman who sought her hand at his side. The irony was not lost on Gabriel in the slightest.
He longed to see Diana. Just being away from her for the brief days since she had departed was difficult for him, as his heart ached for her presence. He knew that it was an unrealistic emotion to have, but he could not keep her from his thoughts no matter how hard he tried. It was clear that the Earl was suffering from a similar condition as he had barely set foot upon the Isle of Wight before turning around and coming right back.
I cannot compete with a nobleman, nor should I. She is not meant for the likes of me.
Shaking his head, he tried to turn his thoughts to something else, anything else. Had he been traveling with a companion of equal station he would have turned to conversation to distract himself, as it was, he was trapped inside of his own thoughts, thoughts that betrayed his better more honorable intentions.
“You look displeased,” the Earl’s voice broke through Gabriel’s thoughts.
Startled and mortified that his thoughts had been so easily read, Gabriel quickly adjusted his face back into an emotionless blank.
“Forgive me, My Lord.”
“Is aught amiss?”
“No, My Lord,” Gabriel shook his head, lying as convincingly as he could manage, given the situation.
“I see. Well, I will not force you to share your thoughts, but if something troubles you, I would be happy to be of aid, as you have taken the time to grant me this favor.”
“It is my duty, My Lord.”
“Even so,” the Earl let his words hang in the air as an open offer.
Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement and they returned to riding along together in silence.
I have need to be of care around this one. He is far shrewder and more observant than one would have given him credit for upon first meeting. I cannot risk Lady Diana’s reputation or future prospects due to my own reckless heart.
He studied the Earl’s face from the corner of his eye.
There is no possible way that he could ever know the true cause of my distress as long as I stay away from her. It will not be an easy task, but it is one that must be done.
“I suppose that I myself have been rather distressed of late. Perhaps I am seeing my own concerns reflected upon your face.”
“My Lord?”
“It is nothing,” the Earl shook his head in afterthought. “I should not be discussing such matters with a servant.”
“As you wish, My Lord.”
“It is just that…” The Earl paused again, clearly uncertain as to whether he wished to continue but clearly needing to speak with someone on the matter. “It is Lady Diana, you see. She and I are meant to be betrothed, but every time that we are together, I am left with the distinct feeling that she wants nothing to do with me outside of simple courtesy.” The Earl’s face wore a pained expression at the admittance.
Gabriel had no notion as to what to say to him. He knew all too well the reason for Lady Diana’s indifference toward her noble suiter and he alone held the guilt for it. He felt a pang of guilt for his part in the Earl’s conundrum and for his part in causing Lady Diana such unrest.
“My apologies, My Lord.”
The Earl raised his hand in protest. “There is no need for words of apology. I should not have said anything.”
“Our hearts seldom love those that we have been commanded to love, or even those that we know that we should love, but often chooses its own path no matter how inconvenient or troublesome.”
The Earl’s brows arched in surprise. “You are wise beyond your years and position.”
Gabriel smiled. “Wisdom has no respect for birth but comes with time and experience alone, often accompanied by heartache.”
“As you say,” the Earl chuckled shaking his head. “I believe that I have underestimated you once again, stable hand.”
“It is often so,” Gabriel admitted honestly.
“What you did for your own master was quite impressive. You would not consider coming to work for me at Appley, would you?”
Gabriel’s brows arched in surprise. “No, My Lord. I am loyal to His Lordship and would never leave his service without the command from his very own lips.”
“Good man,” the Earl nodded in approval. “Your master is blessed to have you in his service.”
Their conversation was cut short by a sudden flurry of horses, men shouting, and pistols being pointed at the Earl and Gabriel’s heads. “Stand and deliver,” a deep masculine voice commanded from behind a cloth scarf.
“I will not,” the Earl growled angrily in refusal.
“Then you, sir, will be the first to die.”
Chapter 27
Diana lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. She had not been able to get Frances’ words out of her head. It had been a chilling tale.
Surely the Dowager Marchioness could not be so evil as to kill a newborn babe. Surely no mother could ever do that to another mother. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it of the woman my grandmother called friend. I had expected the girl to be afraid because she had been struck by the Dowager Marchioness or some such incident. I never would have imagined murder.
When morning came, Diana arose and descended the stairs to break the fast without having slept a single moment. The Marquess and Dowager Marchioness were already at the table. Diana found that she could not meet the Dowager’s eyes.
“Did you sleep well, Diana? You do not look at all well,” the Dowager observed, more judgement than concern in her voice.
“I am afraid that I did not sleep very well last night,” she admitted, not wishing to give anything away, but knowing that if she did not speak, she would alert them that something was truly wrong. “A new bed and all that,” she brushed the concern away with a swipe of her hand through the air as if waving away an insect.
The Dowager Marchioness accepted Diana’s explanation and returned to eating he
r eggs without another thought to her beleaguered pupil. A servant placed a plate of food in front of her, but Diana could not eat a bite of it. The thought of everything that had been said before plagued her mind and heart and would not let her go. Having been told such a tale, she could not stand back and pretend as if she had never heard it. With the knowledge came the responsibility of ascertaining the truth.
If she had murdered an infant no matter how long ago it might have been, surely, she would not be able to sit there as calmly as she does, let alone to chastise others for their breaches in decorum.