by Clee, Adele
“I assumed it was just a passing phase.” His cheeks flushed crimson. “On the journey back from Portsmouth, she was inconsolable. One embrace led to a kiss … a kiss led to something of which I am deeply ashamed.”
Lockhart waited to feel another sharp stab—the pain of betrayal—but it didn’t come.
“So you’re saying you loved her once,” Claudia attempted to clarify. “A man who cavorts with another lady in her box in full view of the audience cannot possibly love his wife.”
Claudia was right. When Lockhart thought of touching any other woman other than the delightful Miss Darling, his stomach roiled.
With tense shoulders and pinched lips, Terence looked like a man who’d been stabbed in the heart, not the back. For a moment it sounded as if he’d stopped breathing.
“It took a few years to realise the truth,” Terence eventually said. “Selina is an extremely good actress.” He gathered himself. “You’re right, Mrs Lockhart. Money is the impetus for all Selina’s decisions.”
“With your predilection for gambling,” Lockhart scoffed, “I imagine you fought often.”
Terence frowned. “Is that what Selina told you? I’m not the one who loses money at the tables. Every matron in the ton knows not to invite her to their card games. Ask around if you distrust my word. Since I restricted Selina’s funds, she’s taken an extreme dislike to me.”
Hence the reason the lady was keen to spend more time with Justin. Had the fop really paid her modiste bill or just another gambling debt?
“Is your interest in Mrs Fanshaw merely a means to make her jealous?” Claudia asked.
Terence shook his head. “I was attempting to use charm to extract information. Mrs Fanshaw was Mr Garthwaite’s mistress at the time of the incident five years ago.”
Lockhart relaxed back in the seat. Perhaps he needed to erase the story he had created in his mind and begin again. He’d come home believing he had no family. Now it appeared his father cared. From the snippets of information he was piecing together, it seemed his brother might care a little, too.
“And you think that has some relevance?” Claudia asked.
“It does if you consider the fact Garthwaite had borrowed money to the sum of ten thousand pounds. A debt he could not repay. Mrs Fanshaw had stopped funding his habit. The image he projected to society does not reflect the true nature of the man.”
Perhaps spending so much time with Claudia Darling had awakened Lockhart’s senses. Instinct told him his brother spoke the truth. Everything he’d said sounded logical, plausible.
But there were still unanswered questions.
“So why not approach me sooner?” Lockhart said. It would have saved time and trouble. Then again, he would have missed the opportunity to spend time in Claudia Darling’s company. “Why insist we leave town?”
“Because I believe my wife is dangerous.” Terence’s grave expression proved unnerving. “She is cold and calculating, and I feared what she would do to your wife should you remain here. I needed more time to gather evidence and your presence has made her panic.”
“Good God! You think she is dangerous and yet you permit her to spend hours alone with our father?”
“Oh, she won’t hurt him, not when I’m convinced he is funding her habit. I’m in the process of bribing a clerk at the bank for information.”
Claudia gasped. “There’s an ink stain on the bed. What if she structures her visits around the time your father regains use of his faculties?” A delightful hum left her lips. “But why go to such lengths now?”
“Because now Hudson is home, he might discover our father has been giving her money for years. She’s played the doting daughter card extremely well. Keeping him sedated buys her a little time. I’ve been monitoring the situation daily without her knowledge.”
“You attend him at night,” Lockhart stated. “You realise Justin visited the apothecary and insisted on a stronger tincture of laudanum.”
Terence nodded. “I decanted a lesser dose into the bottle though I fear Selina is bringing her own tincture with her now.”
Claudia muttered something under her breath. “If Selina suspects you know the truth, she may harm your father. He is the only person who can attest to the fact she is drugging him against his will, to the fact he is giving her money.”
Lockhart considered the last point. Based on his father’s supposed illness no one would believe his ramblings. The only proof lay with the bank.
“It’s of no consequence now as I’ve moved Father into my home. Simmonds is under strict instructions not to let her cross the threshold.”
Terence snorted. “I received word from Mother this morning that the heathen had gone on the rampage, although she seems more concerned that you’ve abducted Simmonds.”
Lockhart snorted. “The butler begged me to take him.”
“As would I if I had to suffer Mother’s infernal complaining.” After a brief silence, Terence sighed. “Well, I have an appointment with the clerk at the bank. I trust you will watch Father while he’s in your care.”
“Of course.” Lockhart inclined his head. “Dr Hewlett is tending to him as we speak.” No doubt the doctor was eager to attend to his other patients, too.
Terence glanced out of the window. They were approaching Russell Square for the third time, and so Lockhart rapped on the roof. As the carriage drew to a stop, Terence shuffled forward and gripped the door handle.
“I’ll let you know my findings. In the meantime, be on your guard.” Terence turned to Claudia and smiled. “Allow me to congratulate you on your marriage and the upcoming birth of your first child.”
Claudia smiled, too. “Thank you.”
It was the forced smile of an actress. Beneath it, Lockhart wondered if she’d experienced the same rush of regret that currently plagued him. How was it possible to feel the loss of a child who had never existed?
Terence exited the carriage, and they followed closely behind.
When Terence climbed into his own carriage, Lockhart took hold of Claudia’s hand, and they entered the house.
“I suppose I should relieve Dr Hewlett,” he said, snatching the note from the salver on the console table. “And then we should retire to the privacy of our bedchamber.” Making love to his soon-to-be wife would banish the ghosts of the past.
“Perhaps I should have Lissette draw a bath.” From her seductive lilt, she wanted him, too.
Lockhart broke the seal and read the few scrawled lines. “Damnation.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
He scanned the missive again, the prickle at his nape racing down his spine. “It’s from Selina.” The damn woman would say anything to gain attention. “She wants to meet us tonight on Richmond Bridge. Reading between the lines, it sounds as though she’s threatening to jump.”
Chapter Twenty-One
A grim silence filled the space inside Lockhart’s carriage. The creak of rolling wheels and the pounding of horses’ hooves on the hard ground permeated the uncomfortable stillness. The road’s uneven surface proved problematic amidst the heavy fog. Twice they’d almost bumped down a ditch. But it wasn’t Devlin Drake’s driving or the choking mass outside that roused a deep sense of foreboding.
Wickedness hung in the air.
Evil lurked in the shadows.
Selina Lockhart had devious intentions, else why had she not begged him to come alone? What possible motive prompted her to insist on Claudia’s attendance, too?
Lockhart withdrew his pocket watch. He angled the face but struggled to read the time. Damnation. Arriving late would only rouse the woman’s ire. In the distance, the bells of St Mary Magdalene tolled eight, but the sound echoed like an ominous warning.
“Do you think Selina will realise it is Mr Drake and not Fleet sitting atop the box?” Claudia’s strained expression revealed her apprehension, too.
“They’re of a similar size and build. With the collar of his greatcoat raised, Drake could pass for my c
oachman.”
Valentine would have been Lockhart’s first choice. The viscount could shoot an apple off a tree from two hundred yards. But the lord’s trim, athletic physique would have drawn Selina’s attention. Drake could beat five men to a pulp, but he would never assault a woman. Still, having his friend close at hand brought comfort.
“Do you think she means to jump?” Claudia asked. “Or is it all just a ruse to dim the light of suspicion?”
With Richmond being an hour’s ride from town, Lockhart had considered the possibility that, in their absence, Justin might attempt to steal Alfred away from Russell Square. Hence the reason he’d paid Dr Hewlett a handsome fee to keep a bedside vigil.
“A woman as selfish as Selina would never take her own life.”
“A woman as cunning as Selina would not call us both to Richmond Bridge unless she had a plan.”
Panic threatened to choke him. His fears were not for himself but for the woman seated opposite. Seventeen hundred pounds was a pittance when he considered what he’d put her through—treachery, deceit, highway robbery and now this. Not once had she raised a complaint. Not once had she demanded they renegotiate their terms, demanded more money. If he could do anything for her, he would ensure she had every penny she needed to fix the problems at Falaura Glen. She never need worry about a leaking roof or an empty store cupboard again.
“We will follow the same procedure as we did the night Justin chased our carriage and pulled a pistol,” he said, shaking his head as he recalled the pathetic attempt to scare him. That said, he had been scared, scared of losing the love of his life.
“You want me to pretend to trip so I can grab a stone?” she said with mild amusement.
“Do not underestimate her. She’ll sob in your arms whilst driving a blade into your back.” Suspicious thoughts invaded his mind. Had Selina been more than a spectator on that fateful night at the inn?
Every why hath a wherefore.
Every new piece of information brought answers. Tonight, he hoped to bring an end to his midsummer’s nightmare.
The carriage rumbled to a halt.
Lockhart glanced out of the window, noted the light of a lantern swaying from the hook outside the toll house. “Drake is paying the toll.”
With the transaction completed, Drake led the carriage across the bridge, bringing it to a stop on the brow. He climbed down from his perch and knocked on the pane.
Lockhart lowered the window. “Can you see her?”
“The fog is so dense a man would struggle to see his feet.” Drake glanced left and right. A white puff of mist left his mouth as he sighed. “The tollman said a carriage crossed twenty minutes ago, but he hasn’t seen a soul since.”
“We’ll wait here. The note said to meet on the bridge.”
“What if she has jumped and we’re too late?” Claudia said. “It’s so cold her muscles would seize as soon as she hit the water.”
“She hasn’t the courage to jump.” In his gut, Lockhart knew that’s what Selina wanted them to think. “No, we’ll wait.”
Drake nodded. The carriage rocked as he climbed back up on the box.
Minutes passed before Drake rapped twice on the roof—a signal to say someone approached.
“Are you ready?” Lockhart shuffled to the edge of the seat. “Drake is under instructions to save you regardless of all else. By now, Terence will have received my note and will join us soon.” He was about to lean forward and claim her mouth in a kiss filled with lust and love and hope for the future, but Drake rapped on the roof again.
“I saw a figure in the mist,” Drake said as Lockhart climbed out of the conveyance. “The person wore a long cloak, but I can’t tell if it’s a man or woman.”
“Where?” Lockhart peered through the grey cloud swamping everything in its path.
“Just beyond the next gas lamp.” Drake pointed to the faint yellow glow in the distance.
“I’ll go on foot. Roll slowly alongside.” He would not leave Claudia alone and vulnerable in the carriage.
Drake flicked the reins but did not shout instructions to the team.
The clip of Lockhart’s boots on the stone path rang like a death-knell. The eerie noises of the dark echoed from the depths of the ghostly mist. Boats moved like phantoms in the water beneath them, the creak of oars the only sign of their presence. The sterile smell of cold air might have cleared his mind, had the wind not whipped up the foul stench of death and decay from the river below.
At first, Lockhart feared his eyes deceived him. The black figure measured ten-foot tall. But as he drew nearer, he realised his mistake. Selina Lockhart had climbed the parapet. She stood on top of the capstones as if on stage, gripping the post of the gas lamp to steady her balance.
“Selina?” Lockhart spoke softly so as not to startle the woman, but she knew he was there.
Shrouded beneath the folds of her hood, he could see nothing but her dark, wild eyes staring back. “The invitation was for two,” she said. “I want your wife to hear what I have to say.”
“This is just between us,” he said, wishing he’d left Claudia at home. “We share a history no one else understands.”
“A history?” she spat. “What happened on that terrible night ruined everything.”
“And it is in the past, Selina.” Had she dragged him all the way to Richmond to incite his pity? “You’re married to Terence now. What good will any of this serve?”
She shook her head, clutched the post with both hands. “But I want to be married to you.”
Lockhart firmed his jaw. He could not lie. He could never lie about his feelings for Claudia. “It’s too late. I love my wife. I am so deeply in love with her there will never be anyone else for me.”
A heart-wrenching sob burst from Selina’s lips. “No! That’s not how it was meant to be. I was too weak then, too weak to fight for us, too foolish to understand how conniving he could be, but I’m stronger now.”
Lockhart tried to make sense of her ramblings. “To whom are you referring?” Hell’s teeth surely she didn’t mean Terence.
“I want to speak to your wife,” she suddenly said.
“I don’t see what good it will do.” Lockhart glanced left and right, scoured the haze to ensure no one else lingered, waiting to pounce.
“You said I don’t know what love is, but you’re wrong,” Selina continued. “At the theatre, your wife made her claim, and I didn’t get to make mine.”
“Have I not already explained my position?” He exhaled a white puff of frustration into the cold night air.
To make matters worse, the carriage door opened and Claudia stepped out.
Drake muttered a curse. He climbed down from his perch and set about checking the horses.
“You’re right,” Claudia said, the rattle of fear evident in her voice. “I stated my case but did not give you the opportunity to state yours.”
Gripping the post with one hand, Selina tugged down the hood of her cloak. “When you see us together, there is no comparison,” she said, brushing her loose ebony locks over her shoulder. “I have an elegance, a natural charm that comes with good breeding. There is something of the country bumpkin about you.”
Selina had clearly spent too much time with his mother.
Lockhart opened his mouth ready to jump to Claudia’s defence, but his soon-to-be wife placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“Your argument is weak.” Claudia raised her chin. “In assuming my husband is a man lured by the superficial, you do him a disservice.”
Selina snorted. “It was the superficial that enabled me to tempt him into bed.”
“You’re right,” Claudia said with confidence. “Lust is a powerful emotion. But I am talking about love.”
“In bed, there is no difference.”
Lockhart coughed into his fist. “I beg to disagree.” When he entered Claudia’s body, the pleasure gleaned from each vigorous thrust satisfied on a level deeper than that of casual bed sport. “Ma
king love to my wife satisfies on an emotional and physical level rather than just relieving an ache in my …”
Drake hummed in agreement.
Selina shook her head, unable to accept his explanation. “It would have been the same with us if only you’d stayed in the room, if only I’d not had my hand forced.”
Her hand forced?
“You didn’t love him,” Claudia protested, ignoring the vital clue. “If you did, you would have run into the inn to fetch help. You would have trusted in his innocence. You would have boarded the boat and never looked back.”
“You know nothing about the circumstances of that night,” Selina countered, growing more agitated by the second. “You don’t know what I’ve endured, what I’ve sacrificed.”
Lockhart shook his head. “What you’ve endured? I was bundled on to a ship and sent halfway across the world.” Anger flared. “My wife is right. You’ve never loved me. You think I’m guilty of committing vile atrocities.”
“No!” Selina cried. “That’s not true. I know you’re innocent. You did nothing that night. I was there.”
The comment confused him. “But you said you heard a scream and didn’t know what happened. On your return, you remained in the carriage because you didn’t know if I was alive or dead.”
A sudden gust of wind caught her off guard. Her cloak whipped about her legs, and she gripped the post with both hands.
“Get down, Selina,” Lockhart demanded. The woman thrived on drama. “Get down before you fall.”
She shook her head. “Listen to me! I can’t risk you walking away when I need you to know that I did love you. You didn’t hurt that man, my father did. My father arranged it all. He lied to me, made me believe he was acting in my interests.”
It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate.
Every drop of blood in Lockhart’s body turned cold. His heart skipped a beat. Bright lights danced in his eyes. It took every effort to focus on the image of Selina balancing on the capstones.
He wanted to speak but couldn’t.
