At her sudden outburst, the Duke stopped speaking. He sat beside her on the lounge. Hester found herself clutching at his arm in a desperate attempt to keep herself from sinking.
“Deborah wrote me a note,” she said. “She told me she was to go to London to visit her aunt. I didn’t see any need to worry.” Fear for her daughter tore through her, bringing a fresh rush of tears.
“And nor did you have any reason to, My Lady,” Lord Terrich said gently.
Hester squeezed her eyes closed. She was grateful for his kindness, but couldn’t bring herself to believe his words. She ought to have known at once that something was wrong. She had already failed Edith by refusing to see the truth about the Viscount. Was she to fail Deborah as well?
“We’ll find her, My Lady,” the Duke said, as her fingers dug ever harder into his arm. “I swear to you, we will find her.”
Hester nodded wordlessly, swiping at her tears. Losing one daughter had almost killed her. She couldn’t bear to imagine how she would cope with losing another.
At the sound of footsteps pattering across the entrance hall, Leonard extricated his arm from the Viscountess’s grip and made his way to the foyer. He let out his breath in relief at the sight of his sister. She raced toward him and threw her arms around his waist, clinging to him tightly.
“What’s happening, Leonard?” she asked, her words muffled against his damp coat. “I’m afraid.”
He smoothed her dark hair. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said gently, sure he sounded anything but convincing.
Florentina looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening. “Where’s Mama?”
Leonard hesitated.
Ought I tell her the truth?
No. She was far too young. Far too easily scared. A lie would be the kindest thing.
“Mama’s in London, remember?” he said, forcing a smile. “Having a gown made for the wedding.” He ushered her into the parlor. “You’re to stay with Uncle Phineas until she comes back.”
At the sight of his young niece, Phineas wrangled his face into the most unconvincing of smiles. Florentina’s eyes darted between her uncle and the tear-stained Viscountess. A frown passed across her face and Leonard could tell she had not believed a word he had said. He felt a pang of guilt at his lies.
Distantly, Leonard heard a knock at the door. He turned, but Florentina had taken a firm handful of his coat, preventing him from leaving.
After a moment, Phineas’s butler appeared in the doorway of the parlor.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Grace,” he said, “but there’s a man here to see you. He says it’s most urgent.”
Leonard unfurled Florentina’s fingers from his coat hem and stepped out into the hallway. At the sight of the visitor, his heart leaped into his throat.
The man with red hair! The footman of Lord Chilson’s involved in Lord Averton’s murder.
Leonard fixed him with hard eyes. “I saw you following me at Lord Averton’s manor,” he said by way of greeting. “You’re one of Lord Chilson’s footmen.”
“No,” he said sharply. “Not anymore. Never again.”
Leonard’s mind raced. Miss Edith Wilds had condemned this man. She had seen him charge into Lord Averton’s manor. Attack the Baron, assist in his murder.
How can I trust a word he says?
And yet there was an intensity in his eyes that spoke of regret.
“Where is Miss Deborah Wilds?” Leonard demanded, striding toward the footman. “And where is my mother?” He felt Phineas’s hand around his arm, pulling him back. Leonard hadn’t realized his uncle was behind him. He shrugged him away. “Tell me what you know,” he hissed at the footman.
The man nodded hurriedly. “Yes, Your Grace. Of course.” He looked down. “It’s why I’m here. I want to tell you everything.”
Leonard took a step back. He exchanged glances with his uncle.
“Come in,” said Phineas. “Mr.—”
“Stevens,” said the footman. “George Stevens.”
Phineas gave him a short nod, then led him into the parlor.
“Upstairs,” Leonard told Florentina. She scampered out of the room, looking back over her shoulder at them as she did so.
Stevens’s eyes fell to the Viscountess. “Lady Chilson,” he murmured, managing a faint nod of the head.
The Viscountess said nothing. Just glared at him with her red, swollen eyes. She knotted her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. Leonard knew she was thinking of the unforgiving words Miss Edith Wilds had scrawled in her diary.
He fixed the footman with cold eyes. “Speak.”
Stevens nodded. “I was in the service of the Viscount of Chilson for many years,” he began. “I always knew the Viscount was not the most… lawful of gentlemen. I’d seen him cheat at the gambling tables, conduct underhand business deals from time to time. I thought little of it at first. After all, it weren’t nothing to do with me. And he always paid his men well for their silence.”
Leonard shifted uncomfortably.
“He began to suspect his eldest daughter was having an affair,” Stevens continued. “He saw her creeping out of the house one night. Assumed she were off to see that gentleman he’d forbidden from calling on her. He sent me out to follow her.”
Lady Chilson let out a sudden, muffled sob. Leonard nodded for the footman to continue.
“When I brought Miss Wilds back to her father, the Viscount was furious. He ordered me and three of my colleagues to go after the gentleman his daughter had been with.” He swallowed. “The Baron of Averton. We were ordered to go to his manor.” He lowered his gaze. “We were ordered to kill him.” His voice dropped. “And so we did. Just as we were told.”
His words hung in the stillness for a moment, the silence broken only by Lady Chilson’s soft crying.
“Why?” Phineas asked. “Why do such a thing? Why become killers on another’s bidding?”
Stevens swallowed heavily. “We were afraid of him,” he admitted. “We knew what the Viscount was capable of. We knew that if we didn’t do as he asked, we would likely be the ones who ended up dead.” He let out a long breath. “What happened at the Averton manor has always haunted me,” he said, his voice thickening with emotion. “I’ve never forgiven myself for doing what I did. For going along blindly with the Viscount’s plans.”
“You followed me to the Averton manor,” said Leonard. “And you sent me those letters.”
The footman nodded. “Yes.” He lowered his eyes. “I work for your friend Lord Milton now. I overheard him telling his wife you were to be married to Miss Wilds.” His eyes met Leonard’s. “I was afraid for you, Your Grace. And I was afraid for your family. I came to the Tarsington manor to speak with you and I saw you leaving on foot. I followed you to Lord Averton’s old house and I realized just how deeply you were involved in all of this. I knew then that I had to warn you. The Viscount is a dangerous man. Marrying into his family will only lead to trouble.”
“You knew this involves my mother,” said Leonard. “How?”
Stevens knotted his fingers together. “Around the time all this business with Averton began, I was in attendance at a garden party with Lord Chilson. I watched him threaten the Dowager Duchess.”
“Threaten her?” Leonard demanded. “Threaten her over what?”
Stevens shook his head. “I wasn’t close enough to hear. But it was immediately afterwards that Lord Chilson announced his daughter’s betrothal to you. I knew the two had to be connected.”
Leonard exhaled sharply. He had always known there was something untoward about his betrothals to the Wilds sisters.
What had Lord Chilson been threatening Mother with?
Stevens turned to look at the Viscountess. “I’m sorry, My Lady.” His eyes were large and somber. “For everything. I know how terribly I have wronged your family. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness.”
For a long time, Lady Chilson didn’t speak. Finally, she managed a tiny nod.
“My daughter,” she said. “Deborah. She is missing.”
Stevens raised his eyebrows. “Missing?”
Leonard swallowed hard. “We fear her father has her. She was trying to find out why her sister killed herself. The Viscount is obviously afraid that his secrets are going to find their way out.”
The footman let out his breath. “As well they should.”
“Do you have any idea of where Lord Chilson might have taken his daughter?” Leonard asked.
And my mother…
“Yes. I do.” Stevens nodded emphatically. “There’s an old farmhouse. Lord Chilson came across it one day while he was out hunting. The place was in ruins. He used the place to run his gambling racket. Conducted business dealings there.”
The Viscountess let out a faint murmur.
“How do we get there?” Leonard demanded.
“I’m coming with you,” said Stevens. “I’ll show you the way.”
“That’s not necessary.”
The footman met Leonard’s eyes. “Yes, it is, Your Grace. Please. Let me help. I spend every day regretting my part in the death of Miss Edith Wilds. If there is anything I can do to help her sister, you must let me try.”
Chapter 38
The old farmhouse was well-hidden within the forest on the outskirts of the village. Trees had grown so close to the edge of the house they seemed to have become a part of the building. Skeletal brown vines clung to walls, creeping into the house through gaps in the wooden boards. Most of the windows were boarded. The red tiles of the roof were almost completely gone. The shell of a barn stood several yards from the house.
Despite having lived his entire life in Bath, Leonard had no idea that the place existed.
“He uses this place for gambling?” he asked Stevens grimly. He was crouched in a copse of trees on the edge of the property, the footman on one side of him and Phineas on the other.
The footman didn’t take his eyes from the house. “Among other things. I always thought it best not to ask too many questions.”
Leonard let out his breath. “I understand why you sent me those letters.”
The footman shifted uncomfortably. “Like I said, Your Grace, you’re best off staying far away from the Viscount and his family.”
“I can’t do that,” Leonard said brusquely. “I love Miss Wilds. I don’t care who her father is. I’ll do whatever I can to get her to safety.”
He looked up at the house, reaching instinctively for the pistol he had tucked into his belt. His stomach was rolling with fear. Not fear of confronting the Viscount, but fear of what they might find when they stepped inside that house.
If anything has happened to Deborah I will never be able to live with myself…
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. It would do no one any good to go charging into the house in a panic.
He felt Phineas’s hand against his shoulder. Leonard opened his eyes and nodded to his uncle.
“Lord Chilson has a study upstairs,” said Stevens. “He spends most of his time in there. But it’s likely he’ll have footmen patrolling the ground floor.” He scratched his rust-colored beard in thought. “We’ll go in through the back,” he said, his voice low. “The door will be locked, I’m sure, but there’s a window we can climb through.”
Leonard nodded, following the footman through the trees, his fist clenched tightly around his pistol. He could hear the distant burble of the river. Could hear birds chattering the trees. He heard nothing from inside the house.
Just as they had suspected, the door was firmly locked, but the window looked large enough to climb through. The noise would likely alert the Viscount of their arrival, but Leonard could see no other option.
“How many men can we expect to find inside?” he asked Stevens, as he searched the garden for something with which to break the window.
“Three or four footmen, perhaps,” Stevens said, peering through the murky glass. “Unless the Viscount has seen fit to hire more men.”
He stepped back as Leonard approached the window with a rock in his hand. He hurled it through the glass, making the window shatter noisily. Yanking out the remaining shards, Leonard scrambled through the window and unlocked the door for Stevens and Phineas to enter.
They were in a disused kitchen, with a large black range along one wall, its oven door rusted open. Empty shelves hung from the wall at strange, slanting angles. A thick layer of dust lay over everything.
Leonard glanced downwards. The dust on the floor had been disturbed by footfalls. Vague prints led across the kitchen and down the hallway. They were not alone in the house. Of that he was certain.
He held his breath, waiting for an attack.
Silence.
Surely their entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed. Were the Viscount’s men planning to ambush them? He glanced around, feeling his heart thudding wildly.
Each with their pistol out, the three made their way slowly toward the hallway that led off from the kitchen. Two doors on either side.
Are Deborah and my mother behind them?
Leonard tried to push down a rising tide of panic. Battled his urge to call out to them.
At the sound of a sudden pistol shot, he flung himself downwards. The ball flew through the window, shattering the glass. He trained his pistol on the footman who had appeared in the kitchen. The man’s piston was empty now. They had to take their chance.
Phineas and Stevens kept their weapons pointed at the footman.
“Go,” said Phineas. “Find Miss Wilds. We’ll keep watch.”
Leonard darted down the hallway and threw open the first door. There was nothing inside but thick cobwebs and shadows. A mouse darted across the floor at the sudden shaft of light. He tried the second room. Empty as well.
The third door was locked. He rattled it noisily.
“Who’s there?”
At the sound of Deborah’s voice, Leonard felt a flood of relief.
She’s alive.
“It’s me, Deborah,” he said. “Everything is going to be all right.” He rammed his shoulder against the door, once, twice, three times, until the rusted lock burst from its casing and the door flew open.
He rushed to the chair where she sat, tightly bound. With jittery fingers, he worked at the knots binding her to the chair. He pulled the ropes away and tossed them onto the floor.
She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. “It’s my father, Leonard,” she said, “he was behind all of it. He forced me to write a note to my mother and put me in the carriage and—”
“I know,” Leonard said gently, raking his hands through her tangled hair. “I know all of it.” He wrapped his arms around her, unable to get her close enough. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her dusty hair.
“You’re not safe.” Deborah’s breath was fast and ragged. “My father, he knows you’ve been looking into Edith’s death. And…”
Leonard pressed his palms to her cheeks to calm her. “I’m not alone,” he assured her. “My uncle is here. And your father’s former footman. We’re going to find him. Stop him.” He met her eyes. “My mother. Is she here?”
A frown creased the bridge of her nose. “Your mother? I don’t know. He kept me locked up in this room the entire time. I’ve no idea who else is here.”
Leonard stepped back and, gripping her hands tightly, helped her to her feet. She stumbled against him on her disused legs.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, concern thickening his voice.
She shook her head. “No. Just a little shaken.”
Leonard brought her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You need to get out. The back door is unlocked. Run and hide in the forest. We’ll find you when this is all over.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not leaving you. Not for a moment. I’m the one who dragged you into all this. I should never have gotten you involved in my search.”
“Yes, you should have,” Leonard said firmly. “Everything
we do, we do together.”
A faint smile passed across her lips. “Yes,” she said pointedly. “We do everything together. So I’m not leaving you to face my father alone. He’s a dangerous man.”
Leonard said nothing. Did she understand the depth of just how dangerous the Viscount was? He knew, of course, that she had not yet read the final pages of her sister’s diary.
Still, this whole ordeal cannot have left her with anything but utter certainty of the kind of person her father is…
Guilty Pleasures of a Bluestocking: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 25
