The Blood Is the Life

by Sharon K Gilbert

  “Yes, Aunt, I am. Do forgive me.”

  “Good, then you must promise me that you will allow Elizabeth to blossom. She has many ideas, some philosophical, some political, but most lie within the realm of how best to use the wealth she’s been given to help others. She’s told me of her plan to build a teaching hospital, and I applaud it, but she wants to build it in Whitechapel—wait, perhaps it’s Spitalfields. Are they the same?”

  “Spitalfields and Whitechapel are both in Tower Hamlets borough, yes, so nearly the same, Tory, but Spitalfields is much poorer by far. I’m all in favour of Beth endowing a hospital there. It is much needed, and it will provide education for men and women who’ve no means to pursue such on their own. I think it’s a marvellous idea.”

  Tory removed a cigarette from her handbag, pursing her lips as she thought best how to respond. Charles automatically lit the smoke for her. “Thank you,” she said, returning the silver case to the bag. “So, you have no problem with your wife spending many hours there?”

  His brows pinched together. “Has Elizabeth told you she wants to spend time in Spitalfields? Why would she even need to be there?”

  Victoria exhaled a thin plume of smoke, sighing. “For a police detective, you’re rather thick at times, Nephew. Has it never occurred to you that she might wish to be personally involved? Have you not yet realised just who she is? Elizabeth has never been one to let others do things for her. No, no, let me finish. I see your eyes—my sister’s eyes—and I know already what you plan to say. When Elizabeth was a little girl, we taught her to consider how other people in the world must live and work, especially those in service. The year she became duchess, Beth spent the entire summer learning every area of estate life. She learnt to milk a cow, how to make a bed and build a fire, she learnt about plants and how to amend soil. She learnt to saddle her own horse, how to drive a carriage, how to perform basic cooking methods—well, mostly. In truth, Beth baked a cake that could have been used as footing for construction, but in all areas, she tried her best. Why did we ask her to do this? To teach her the toil and sacrifices her servants make for her each and every day. That is why I know, that when she commences this building project, Elizabeth will very likely become personally involved, though I pray she does not try to bake any of them cakes.”

  Charles smiled as he pictured the little girl he’d met ten years earlier milking a cow or saddling a horse. But then, she had been brave and clever enough to learn the layout of the old tunnel system and even attempt to rescue her mother, all on her own. “I’ve witnessed Elizabeth’s self-reliance many times, Tory, and in most circumstances I think it wonderful. I applaud her courage and dedication to helping others, but when her choices border on foolhardiness, I must and will step in.”

  Tory laughed as she tapped ash into the silver dish. “Well, my dear, you will find yourself in a constant state of worry if you feel you must follow her every move for fear she might venture into foolish territory. I tell you that she will! When Beth lived with me, she had many admirers; dozens of young men who flocked to my home, day after day, often with no prior notice or courtesy, just to sit and gaze at her.”

  “She is beautiful, Tory. I often find myself sitting and gazing at her.”

  “Beth wants you to do so, my dear, but not these fellows. Often, when these gawping gentlemen would show up at my door, Beth would speak a few polite words and then hasten to her room, dress as a stable boy, and then dash down the servants’ stairs to go riding all by herself.” She thought for a moment, and then making up her mind, continued. “Do you know why she did that?”

  “Shy?” Sinclair suggested, but deep in his heart he suspected he knew the answer.

  “Elizabeth shy? Oh, really, Charles, do be serious. No, my dear, she did it because she had no interest in their admiration. She’d already fallen in love—with you! You cannot know this, but when Elizabeth first arrived at my home in ‘84, she was in a highly charged, emotional state; and to be frank, it worried me. She was only sixteen at the time, but desperately in love with you, and she feared you would never—could never return her affections. She’d written you a letter, you see, and she waited for a reply each and every day. She hounded our poor postman mercilessly, to see if a letter from Whitechapel or perhaps Scotland Yard had arrived. After three months of this, I told her that either her letter to you had never been received, or that you had chosen not to reply. It was either one or the other. She asked if she should write again, and I told her no; she should not. I know how much she agonised over you, Charles, for I heard her crying, night after night, praying that your letter would arrive the next day. Elizabeth is loyal and true, and once she gives her heart, she never takes it back. So, I hope you will take good care of that sweet child, Charles. Her love is the rarest of gifts.”

  Sinclair moved to the sofa and took his aunt’s hands in his own. “Tory, I would die for that sweet child. Right now, if it would protect her, I would. I have loved Elizabeth from the first time I saw her as a young girl—only then it was a protective love. But when I saw her at Aubrey House in ’84, shortly before she came to live with you, she stole my heart, Tory. That day is forever etched upon my mind. I’d gone there to deliver the last of the Yard’s archived documents regarding Patricia’s murder. Paul and I’d been secretly removing them to protect Beth from ever learning the extent of her mother’s injuries. I’d not seen her in three years, but she was often in my thoughts—again, protectively. I arrived in the afternoon. It had been raining, and the sun had just begun to shine. Paul’s butler told me the earl was in the library, and I found my own way there since I’d been to Aubrey House many times over the years. As I entered, Beth was just leaving—and I now know that she’d been arguing with Paul, though I had no idea at that time. All I knew then was this: that time stopped, when I saw her.”

  His eyes grew misty as he recalled the moment. “She wore a green silk dress with long sleeves that fell softly towards her wrists. It had pink rose petals embroidered upon the skirt, and she’d tied a black velvet sash about her waist, the streamers of the bow following the line of her dress all the way to the floor. Her shoes were black with pearl buttons. Her hair was arranged in long waves down her back, but part of it was braided and accented with pearls. In her beautiful earlobes, hung delicate ear bobs shaped like silver hearts with green bows. I never received that letter, Tory, for if I had, do you think I would have waited for even one second to go to her? I have loved Elizabeth the woman since that day. Every cell in my body—every fibre of my being is in love with that woman.”

  Tory smiled. “That is all I wanted to know, Charles. That she is loved for who she is, for all that she longs to do. Thank you for indulging me, Nephew. I understand Elizabeth’s strong attachment. I’ve grown quite fond of you myself in these short weeks.”

  He kissed her cheek. “And I love you, too, Tory,” he said. “Since I have no memories of my mother, I make new ones with you—her loving sister. I don’t think of you as an aunt, but as a surrogate for her. I hope that isn’t too strong.”

  She took his hand, her firm mouth curving into a rare smile. “That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, and I take it to heart, Charles. Your parents would have been very proud of you. Your mind, your kindness, your gentle heart, but also your unfailing strength of character. I should like to be a mother to you, for her sake, and it pleases me more than I can say,” she said with great affection, her eyes growing soft and tearing. She sniffed and straightened her shoulders. “All right, well, that is enough I suppose. Now, Charles, you do realise that you may not sleep here tomorrow night. Bad luck.”

  He nodded, smiling. “Yes, you’ve mentioned it a few times. I’ve already moved my things to Haimsbury House.”

  “Good. Well, then, we are in our final phase, aren’t we? Two days. I must check with our Miss Jenkins now. She’s been typewriting some letters for me. All our distant cousins and international friends mus
t receive notice of the wedding and Elizabeth’s new London address. She’s suggested I remain here at Queen Anne House, but I’m not sure if I wish to live alone.”

  “Then move in with us,” he said and meant it.

  “That is a consideration, Nephew. Perhaps I shall. Oh, one more thing. You do know about the ball tomorrow evening?”

  “Yes, Prince Anatole reminded me only yesterday, in fact.”

  “Did he? When?”

  “He dropped by Whitehall. Must we go, Tory? I’d prefer a quiet evening, actually.”

  Victoria stared at her nephew for a moment, considering the strange revelation. “The prince just dropped by? That is quite unlike Romanov. Well, never mind. Yes, we must attend. I know this ball comes when we at our busiest, but we really cannot decline. It is given by the Russian Embassy in concert with the Duke of Edinburgh.”

  “Why is Edinburgh hosting? Is he a family friend?”

  “He is a friend, yes, but he is also married to the Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of Russia, Tsar Alexander’s sister. Does it now begin to make sense to you?”

  “I suppose so, yes. Is Uncle James attending?”

  “We are all going,” Stuart answered. “Now, on another topic, I’ve not spoken with you directly on this, but it’s time I do. Has Beth’s pregnancy been confirmed?”

  “Three doctors have made that diagnosis, so I take it as confirmation,” Sinclair replied. “Tory, I hope you don’t think I took advantage of Beth,” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

  “You’ve nothing to explain, my dear. Nothing. I know all about Scotland’s troubles, and it’s apparent that the goal of that dangerous night has been achieved. But rather than worry about Redwing’s motives—which are obvious—let us consider this a blessing, shall we?”

  He relaxed and took her hand. “It’s a blessing to me. I’d not thought to start a family so soon, but God has kept us safe throughout, so I look to Him to protect Beth and our child. Do you think Anatole was involved in the Scotland attacks?”

  “That’s hard to say. The prince’s behaviour is often inscrutable, which makes it difficult to determine his loyalties. Regardless, he has made a considered effort to befriend you.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call his actions friendly; though, as you say his motives aren’t yet clear.”

  “No, they are not, which means we must learn more about him and his plans. The simplest path to achieving that aim, is to spend time with him.”

  “I suppose that’s true, but I have no wish to endanger Elizabeth.”

  “Nor do I. So, have your valet teach you how to dress for this occasion, Charles, for we must attend,” she declared.

  “Teach me to dress? I have a formal evening suit thanks to Kepelheim, is that not enough? Tails, white waistcoat, and all that?”

  “Yes, that would be customary at such an occasion, but this ball has a theme. Everyone is to come costumed in what their ancestors would have worn a century ago. These themed balls are all the rage in Paris, so it’s in fashion. You may wish to consult with Laurence about it—or Martin. I should imagine it will involve military dress of some type. Sashes, medals and all that.”

  Charles laughed. “I’ll check my father’s trunks and see what I can devise before tomorrow. If nothing else, I’ll just wear Connor’s kilt,” he added, smiling. “Tory, will this be a regular occurrence? Last minute invitations to parties and costume balls. If so, it will take some getting used to. We seldom had call for fancy dress in Whitechapel.”

  “Don’t worry, Charles, most of these invitations will arrive weeks before the event, sometimes months; but yes, you will probably attend many parties. After a year or two, you might even enjoy them.”

  “Ask me in a year,” he said. “Now, is it possible for me to speak to my intended today, or am I permanently banned from the house?”

  Victoria took a puff on her cigarette, her head tilting to one side as she considered. “Perhaps, but she’s with Adele at present. Speaking of which, we should speak of her as well. And of other things. No, I am not acting as distraction for my niece. Well, in truth, I suppose I am, but you and I haven’t had many opportunities to speak alone since my arrival, and I’ve a few other things to say.”

  Charles could still hear Elizabeth and Della laughing as Kepelheim played their music, and he longed to join them if only for a moment. “What about Adele?”

  Lady Victoria blew several smoke rings, pondering how best to approach the topic. “You don’t smoke?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I tried it for a few days at Cambridge, but never found it enjoyable.”

  Stuart tapped the slender cigarette against the dish. “Good. You look surprised. I may smoke, but Elizabeth has never cared for it, though she is kind enough to indulge me. I’d never even considered lighting a cigarette until twenty years ago. That was a hellish year in many ways. I took up the habit to calm my nerves.”

  Charles thought for a moment. “Twenty years. That would have been ’68. The year Beth was born.”

  The music stopped. “Wait,” Victoria told him, motioning for her nephew to remain seated. She walked to the morning room doors, listening intently, her ear pressed against the wood. After a moment, she turned the lock. “It sounds as though Beth and Della have gone upstairs at last, which makes this easier. I’ve no desire for Elizabeth to hear any of this.” She returned to her seat and leaned in close to Sinclair, whispering. “Did Dr. Emerson mention Patricia’s miscarriages to you?”

  “Yes, which is why I want her to follow his advice to the letter.”

  She leaned back, her dark eyes rounding. “Now, that is a challenge. Should you find a way to ensure her obedience, then you will have to share it with me, Charles, for Beth is headstrong. However, knowing another life depends upon her compliance might curtail her energies, but do not rely upon that, my dear.”

  “I do my best,” he answered, suddenly worried that ‘his best’ may not be enough.

  “It’s a pity about that maid,” she continued, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. “How are your injuries?”

  “My head still aches, and my entire right side is bruised, but I’ll survive. These aren’t not my first injuries, Tory, nor will they be the last. I’m just grateful that the girl’s plans failed. I pray she is with the Lord now. Poor Gertie was a victim, and I wish I’d been kinder in my actions towards her.”

  “Hindsight is always perfect, is it not? You aided her in her final moments, Charles. It’s quite likely that she is with our Lord now. Life ends when we least expect it.”

  “Yes. So it does. Tory, did you know about Moira Stopes?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

  “No. Not until afterward. Charles, we have tried to keep watch on all children born in the twins’ lines. Drummond and Branham. I fear our best efforts are seldom sufficient. But lest you misunderstand, let me assure you that Connor did not hire that woman.”

  “Price seemed to think he did—as did Baxter.”

  “No,” she replied, crushing the spent cigarette and lighting a third, “he did not. The woman brought a letter with her, ostensibly penned by Beth’s father, but she only attended the duchess whenever Connor was absent. Patricia later confessed that she had hired the nurse. Connor isn’t to be blamed, for he travelled a great deal. His talents were much like my brother’s, and like Paul’s. Despite his great height, Connor Stuart could disappear into any crowd, any city. He also was a consummate athlete: an expert with a sword, a knife, pistol, rifle—any weapon, even a longbow. He was tall and muscular and quite intelligent, and he worried Redwing.”

  “How so?”

  “Connor had uncovered a great deal of information about their plans, and I believe he was on the track of discovering the truth about the Shadow Man’s identity.”

  “He knew about that vile creature? Then how could he leave his daughter to that thi
ng’s mercy?” Charles asked, his voice rising. “Tory, I do not understand it! I know Connor loved her, but how could he go away so often if…”

  “If he thought her in danger?” she finished for him. “Charles, you are now in Connor Stuart’s position. Have there been times when duty calls you from Beth’s side?”

  Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yes.” He then thought of his own son, and how his selfish choices had led to Albert’s death. “Forgive me, Tory. I rushed to judgement without thinking. This Shadow Man has plagued Elizabeth since childhood. Did Connor leave any hint to its identity?”

  “Sadly, no. He said something to my brother that weekend—the one when he died. I was there, too, and Connor was not himself. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Patricia had remained behind at Branham, which surprised us all, for she usually enjoyed Scotland. In fact, if you want to know the truth, I think Connor was ready to leave her.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  The elder Stuart’s wide lips parted in shock. “You know? How is that possible? We only surmised it based a few hints.”

  “I found a letter Connor had written to the duchess, dated the day he died. He told Patricia that he planned to speak to a lawyer the very next day, and that he would seek full custody of Elizabeth. He also accused her of having an affair with William Trent.”

  Tory’s face turned to ash. “No!” she cried out, and Charles instantly regretted blurting out such a distressing truth. He poured his aunt a glass of water and handed it to her.

  “Drink this, Tory. I should have broken that dark news with a gentler tone. Forgive me.”

  She gulped down the water, her eyes tearing. “Poor Connor. Oh that poor darling man. I’d no idea that his marriage had deteriorated to that extent, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. But you say, she’d already begun seeing Trent? Did he actually name the man in this letter?”

  “He did. I showed the letter to Uncle James and to Paul. Both recognised the earl’s handwriting, but they, too, were shocked.”