She wanted to think, and she urgently needed to speak with James. He must be told what had happened.
Had Mr. Leadford already tattled to her father as he’d threatened?
Would Papa truly lock her in her room?
Yes. He had Althea.
Theadosia’s situation was impossible. No matter what she decided, she’d hurt someone she loved. She’d have to choose the lesser of two evils, and either would leave scars and a broken heart.
Protect my mother even as you must protect your father.
Victor’s words played through her mind once more, all but ripping her aching heart from her chest.
As she neared the staircase, Mama’s angry voice carried down the corridor.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Oscar. I didn’t agree when you banished Althea, and I surely shan’t stand by and watch you force Theadosia into a marriage with a despicable man I cannot abide.”
Theadosia crept down the corridor on tip-toes, mindful to avoid the squeaky floorboards. As she reached the drawing room, Jessica edged from the adjacent doorway, a finger to her lips.
She silently urged Theadosia inside the study.
“They’ve been arguing almost since you left,” Jessica whispered in her ear.
“Has Mr. Leadford returned?”
Jessica shook her head, the blond curls framing her face bouncing.
“No, but that’s the reason I’m hiding in here. If he comes back, I want to make sure he doesn’t eavesdrop.” Color swept up her cheeks. “I know I am guilty of the doing same, but I’m doing so because I want to help. He’d only use whatever he hears for his own gain.”
No small truth there.
Tears filled Jessica’s eyes. “Lord, I cannot abide the man, and I cannot bear the idea that you might have to wed him. He’s a disgusting pig.”
Wrapping an arm around her sister’s waist, Theadosia gave her a hug. “I’m going into the drawing room. Mama and Papa are discussing my future. Yours too. I cannot stand idly by and not voice my opinion. Besides, I saw Leadford a bit ago, and he threatened me and Papa.”
Jessica’s pretty eyes widened, and her jaw sagged. “I knew he was evil.”
“You have no idea just how much so.” Theadosia shuddered in remembrance.
Best not to mention Victor had also been there or his proposal. Theadosia knew what her sweet sister would say about that.
A horrible thought struck her, stealing her breath.
If she married Victor, might Leadford turn his vulgar attention to Jessica?
Another reason she could not marry Victor straightaway.
“I’m taking our daughters, and we’re going to live with James until you come to your senses.” Mama’s voice broke. “Wasn’t losing one daughter enough, Oscar? I cannot lose another.”
Didn’t Mama know James let lodgings at the Albany? He didn’t have room for them, and Theadosia didn’t think women were permitted to reside there either.
“I’m coming with you,” Jessica said, with a determined tilt of her small chin.
Theadosia grasped her hand, and mouth flattened into a firm line, entered the room.
“You cannot leave with Theadosia, Marianne. It’s impossible.”
Father sank into a chair, and raising a shaking hand to his ashen face, knuckled away a tear.
“Why not, Papa? Why have you promised me to Mr. Leadford when you know I detest him?”
Theadosia, holding Jessica’s hand, hovered at the entrance.
Startled, he glanced up for an instant, then dropped his gaze to his lap and said nothing.
When had he become a coward?
Face taut, Mama also looked toward the doorway. She motioned to the faded settee before the window. “You might as well come in since this involves you both.”
Though Theadosia felt a degree of compassion for her father, he’d put her in a horrible predicament. He must own his wrongdoing and acknowledge his selfishness.
After taking a seat, she met his doleful gaze straight on. “Mr. Leadford says if I don’t marry him, you will go to prison. You might even hang.”
“God above, Oscar, what have you done?” Mama, asked, her voice breaking again. Pale as her lace fichu, she stiffly lowered herself to a chair. Pressing an unsteady palm to her chest, she swallowed.
Jessica squeezed Theadosia’s fingers as Papa stared out the window, his face creased and haggard.
“I thought that if I provided Theadosia and Jessica with some of the luxuries young women like, they mightn’t be tempted to sin as Althea was.” He slid them a repentant look.
Hence the new gowns and fripperies.
“I understand it’s hard being a rector’s wife and children,” he murmured, his voice so low, Theadosia had to strain to hear him. “I also know that I give our food and other belongings, even money, to the poor to such an extent that we must economize. We must go without and live a simple, frugal life. But I also realize women want pretty things, and the girls were getting of an age, I feared they’d look for the wrong type of young man, as Althea did.”
Her father’s generosity had been out of character, but Theadosia hadn’t questioned where he’d acquired the funds for their new garments, bonnets, and shoes these past few months. She’d assumed he’d received an increase in wages.
“We mightn’t wear the first stare of fashion or eat delicacies, but we’ve always had enough. So what exactly are you saying, Oscar?”
Mama wasn’t letting him transfer the blame to them.
Head lowered, he covered his eyes with his fingertips.
“I’ve been borrowing from the tithes and organ fund, and also keeping monies I said were sent to the Diocese,” he admitted, still not meeting their gazes. “It’s been six months since Benedict left, and I didn’t think Leadford would notice the small discrepancies in the account ledgers. I swear I meant to pay back every penny.”
So livid, her red hair almost crackled with her ire, Mama narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been gambling again too, haven’t you? Just like before we moved here.”
Papa’s chin sank to his chest, and his shoulders slumped. “Yes.”
Mama’s lips trembled, and she shook her head. “You swore to me, Oscar. On the Bible. You vowed you’d never touch dice again.”
Theadosia exchanged a dumbfounded glance with Jessica. Papa a gambler?
“How much, Oscar?” Mama demanded. “How much have you stolen?”
“Leadford says it’s almost five hundred pounds.”
Five hundred? It might as well be five thousand.
Jessica gasped, and Mama collapsed against her chair.
“I don’t remember taking that much.” Papa had never been very good at bookkeeping or figures, something he readily admitted to. “I have repaid a little from my wages.”
James strode into the drawing room, his expression fierce.
“Did I hear correctly? You’ve been embezzling Church funds and gambling? To the tune of five hundred pounds?” He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and whirled away from Papa. Plowing a hand through his hair, he spun back to face him again.
“My God, Father. Do you have any idea how harsh the courts are on men of the cloth?” James threw his hands in the air. “Men who preach righteousness and honesty and then betray the Church’s and their parish’s trust?”
Theadosia rubbed her temple. This was much more awful than she’d imagined.
“You realize Leadford won’t stop at marrying me, don’t you? You’ll be under his thumb, groveling about whenever he decides he wants something more. You’ve ruined us, Papa. How will we ever be free of him?”
Her father raised his eyes, his harrowed expression fraught with shame. He glanced first at Mama’s stricken face, then at Jessica, and lastly at Theadosia.
“Forgive me, my dears.” Moisture shimmered in his eyes. “It’s even worse than that, I’m afraid.”
“How could it possibly be worse?” Disbelief strangling his voice, James plopped onto the se
ttee’s arm.
“Leadford claims since the women used the stolen monies to buy gowns and fallalls, they are accessories to the crime.” Entreaty in his gaze, Papa shrank into his chair. “If we don’t do exactly as he demands, he vows to send your mother and sisters to prison too.”
Two mornings later, after a pair of sleepless nights reliving Thea’s last heart-wrenching words, Victor once again rapped on the doorframe outside the solarium’s open door.
“Mother, a word if you’ve a moment.”
She set aside her correspondence and, removing her spectacles, smiled warmly.
“Dearest, forgive me for saying so, but you look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep well again last night?” She picked up the bell atop her petite writing desk. “Shall I ring Grover for coffee?”
“No, I’ve already had three cups, thick and black enough to tar a roof.” He bent and kissed her upturned cheek. “I spent the night pacing my bedchamber, and I’ve come to a most difficult decision.”
“Have a seat and tell me what has you so disgruntled. Has it to do with Theadosia?”
He gave her a sharp look.
How did she know?
“Don’t look so taken aback, darling.” She gave him one of her motherly smiles; the one that said she knew something he didn’t think she did. “I saw how you gazed at her the other night. But there were also other hints as to your feelings.”
“What hints? I’ve been most inconspicuous.” Had even lied to himself about his motives and actions.
She held up her hand, fingers extended and ticked them off one by one.
“You impulsively invited the Brentwoods to dinner—you are never impulsive, dear.” Thumb. “You asked that I be sure to invite them to the ball.” Forefinger. “You asked me to make certain they would attend too. You also suggested I ask Theadosia to help me with the planning. You disappeared almost every day at the same time and were seen with her near Bower Pool.”
Middle finger, ring finger, and little finger, one right after the other.
She elevated a fine eyebrow. “The Walter boys’ mother is sister to our larder maid.”
Ah, the rascals had tattled to their mother.
His mother touched her other thumb with her pointer finger. “And from God knows where, you procured a case of oranges for marmalade.”
She wiggled the beringed digits in front of his face. “You are clearly besotted, and I couldn’t be happier for you. Especially since Theadosia obviously returns your affection.”
He shook his head and chuckled. Did nothing escape his mother?
“I love her. I think I loved her before I left three years ago but didn’t recognize that’s what I felt.”
“So why the glum face? You have your bride.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “Should we make an announcement at the ball?”
“It’s not that simple.” He took a seat beside her, and as succinctly as possible, explained all.
“I knew there was something unsavory about that troll of a man.” Lips pursed, she wrinkled her nose. “And to think he sat at my table. I shall instruct Grover to throw out the serviette he used.”
How the butler was to tell the difference between that particular serviette and the other twenty or thirty, Victor couldn’t imagine.
“I shall find a way to deal with Leadford,” he said, “but I’m concerned about what this means for you.”
She took his hand between hers.
“Victor, listen to me. I can make my home anywhere, as long as my children and grandchildren visit me often. Ridgewood is only a building. Yes, there are lots of wonderful memories here, but you love Theadosia. You must do everything to make her your duchess. If that means your birthday comes and goes and you are not wed, then so what? Jeffery will gain a fortune and several holdings. He’ll be ecstatic. I never held with that addendum to the will anyway.”
Was there ever a more wonderful mother?
“There will likely be a scandal, Mother. Scads of gossip and tattle-mongering when everything comes out. Rest assured, there will be those who say I’ve married beneath myself.”
“Oh, pish posh. That always makes the romance more exciting. Why, I called off my betrothal to a Russian prince to marry your father. Cousin Cora was only too happy to take my place.”
“Do tell. A Russian prince? I might’ve been a prince rather than a mere duke?”
“Constantine never stood a chance. He didn’t hold a candle to your father’s wicked good looks.” She leaned forward and kissed Victor’s cheek. “Now go be a hero. Women adore men coming to their rescue, but do let her think she helped too.” She winked. “Now go, do whatever you must to save our dear Thea.”
Two hours later, Victor handed Acheron’s reins to a groom at the Blue Rose Inn at Essex Crossings. James had sent a missive ’round that morning saying he urgently needed to speak with his old friend.
Victor nodded to the patrons as he made his way to a table in the far corner.
James, his expression as morose as Victor had ever seen, stared into a tankard.
“I presume you don’t have good news?”
James spared him a caustic glance before taking a long pull of ale. “No.”
“What’s happened?”
By the time James had finished speaking, Victor was hard put not to jump up and go in search of Leadford and rearrange his face. Instead, he quaffed back the rest of his ale.
“Is there any merit to what Leadford claims? Can the women be tried and convicted as accomplices?”
James slowly shook his head, his expression thoughtful.
“They can be tried, but Father has written a statement that he alone was responsible. As far as I know, Mama and the girls didn’t have access to the books, though that might be hard to prove. The scandal would be horrendous, but I don’t think they’d be convicted. Father would, however.”
Victor hooked his arm over the back of his chair.
“What if I repay the funds and your father resigns effective immediately? I would even be willing to restore and refurbish the parsonage and Church. Do you think the Church would consider clemency then?”
That fell just short of bribery in Victor’s estimation, but experience had taught him incentives went a long way. Even with those who claimed a Godly calling.
Folding his arms, James tilted his chair back. “Not as long as Leadford is around to stir things up.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “I’m not saying my father shouldn’t take responsibility for what he’s done, nor should he escape punishment. But we both know if he was a peer, he’d never see the inside of a cell.”
Signaling the barkeep for another tankard, he looked toward Victor to see if he desired another as well.
Victor angled his head in affirmation.
“What if he was related to a peer? And if he agreed to do some sort of penance?”
“Maybe.” Shrugging, James accepted the foamy tankard. The mug at his mouth, he paused and a teasing grin tipped his lips
“Wait. Related to a peer? You and Thea?”
“I already proposed. She said yes if this business with Leadford is settled. Your father, on the other hand, very vehemently said no.” Victor stretched his legs out before him, one hand resting on the table. “I think he might be persuaded to change his mind if he weren’t being coerced by Leadford.”
James’s smile widened, and he slapped his knee.
“I knew it. Thea couldn’t keep her eyes off you, and you weren’t any better. I must say, I couldn’t have chosen anyone finer for her.”
“Then you approve?” It was nice to have one Brentwood in his corner.
James still wore a silly smile. “Heartily.”
“May I look at the accounts?” Victor asked.
“Of course. I did last evening. Honestly, they’re such a scribbled mess, I cannot make heads or tails of them.” James tossed a coin onto the table and rose. “There’s still the matter of Leadford’s blackmail.”
Victor followed him to the doo
r. “I’ve been thinking about that. What do you suppose the Church’s views are on blackmail and extortion? I heard him threaten Thea too.”
James paused in putting on his hat. A slow, pleased smile turned his mouth upward.
“Why, I should say, every bit as unfavorable as embezzlement.”
His smile victorious, Victor held the door open. “I think it’s time we paid Leadford a visit.”
Victor sat in the parsonage’s cozy, outdated parlor sipping tea with Mrs. Brentwood and James. He’d taken a cursory glance at the Church’s ledgers earlier. They were a muddle, but even so, he identified several instances of altered amounts, two as recent as this past week. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but to his eye, it appeared more than one person had changed the entries dating back at least two years.
Someone might argue one or more of the women in the household had abetted the reverend, but more likely it was the curate in charge of bookkeeping.
If all went as Victor had planned, it wouldn’t matter.
James thought Victor’s scheme feasible as well.
“Your daughters aren’t at home?” Victor asked, even as he sought Thea. Like a ray of sunshine, she always brightened any room she was in and filled him with a peace he found nowhere else. “I should like them to be present as well.”
“Theadosia is inquiring if our recent purchases might be returned.” Faint color lined Mrs. Brentwood’s cheekbones as she brushed a crumb off her lap, her hand unsteady. “When I saw you ride up, I sent Jessica out the back entrance to retrieve her sister.”
The poor woman looked like she hadn’t slept either. How could she when her husband faced disgrace, scandal, and imprisonment, and a blackmailing rotter had demanded her daughter marry him?
“I expect my husband and Mr. Leadford home for the midday meal at any moment,” she said. “Mr. Cox suffered a broken leg when he was thrown from his horse yesterday. Oscar does so enjoy bringing a bit of encouragement to those convalescing.”
Sugar tongs in hand, she wrinkled her forehead. “Did I already add sugar to my tea?”
She spoke to herself, and Victor met James’s concerned gaze over her bent head.
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