“You believe you were abducted as children and given into the care of your adoptive parents?”
“I think my brother was, due to some things our adoptive mother said to me… but for myself, I do not know.”
“They were unkind to you and your brother, then?”
Unkind was not a fit description for the people who had adopted them. “I would rather not speak of that, Lord Wolverton, and it hardly has any bearing on our current situation.” Her tone was firm and she lifted her chin in an unconscious challenge.
After a moment of tense silence, he nodded in agreement and didn’t press her further for details about their childhood, a fact for which she was grateful. Instead, he focused his attentions on her time in Bath. “Did you learn anything useful from this Madame Zula? About your brother’s identity or the woman you believe to be his mother?”
Mary took a bite of the chicken, as much to ease her hunger as to provide a moment in which to gather her thoughts and offer up what was pertinent without revealing too much. “The woman I believe to be Benedict’s actual mother—I will not reveal her identity because I’m not sure it’s relevant and I’ve no wish to stir idle gossip that might harm either her or my brother—”
“And to whom would I gossip?” he demanded pointedly. “In case you were unaware, Miss Mason, the only person, aside from my less than hardworking handful of servants, that I have spoken to in weeks, is you.”
She said nothing to that, only graced him with an arched look and continued, “I did not. But I did see something much more concerning, something that made me believe that Madame Zula might actually be involved in something far more nefarious than simply swindling those who seek her aid.”
“Given the numerous missing girls, Miss Mason, and the fact that your investigation led you directly to the center of a kidnapping scheme, I’d say your instincts for finding the truth are very good. A pity they are not more capable of identifying danger,” he said. “But do go on. I’d like to know how you reached this conclusion.”
“While observing this woman, I saw her companion enter Madame Zula’s home where she conducted her readings. There was a man following her and he appeared to be rather unsavory. After the companion left, I saw Madame Zula’s manservant come outside and speak to him. They appeared to be very familiar with one another. I encountered the companion again at the Pump Room and, as I left, noted that very same man loitering outside. I was suspicious of him and his motives and thought that the best way to uncover what they might be about was to become a client of Madame Zula’s myself.”
Lord Wolverton leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What did this man look like?”
“He was roughly dressed, tall and lean but not thin. He wore dark clothes and a wide-brimmed hat. He did not have a beard but always appeared to be in need of shaving. Dark hair, small eyes… and a scar on his chin,” Mary said. She noted Lord Wolverton’s response to that description, the tension that settled over him and the ticking of a muscle in his jaw. “Do you know this man?”
“I do not know him. But I saw him—moments before I discovered my wife, bleeding and near dead,” he said, his words sharp and hard. After taking a deep breath, he continued, “And how did you think this might have anything to do with your brother?”
Mary knew that he had no wish to revisit such painful memories and was content to turn the conversation back to Benedict and how she’d come to be abducted. “Well, I assumed that the companion was visiting Madame Zula on behalf of her employer… that perhaps her employer thought to retain Madame Zula and her suspect skills in ascertaining the location of her missing son.”
He frowned then. “And?”
“That’s really all there is to tell. I made an appointment, went to it, and as I was leaving was set upon by a trio of men who scooped me up, tossed me into the back of a wagon with a cloth over my head and took me to some dirty and dingy warehouse within the city. It wasn’t until the next night that they came and hauled me away again… only this time I must have been in that wagon for a terribly long time. When I awoke, I was in an underground room, rather like a cell. There were no windows, only a dirt floor, and a single servant to bring food and water to me.” Mary shivered at the memory of that cold, damp room and the unending fear that had been her only companion there. “What they wanted with me, I cannot say.”
“They did not harm you?” he asked.
The question had been phrased delicately, but Mary was not so innocent of the workings of the world that she did not understand his meaning. “Other than to bind me and transport me from one place to another, no one touched me,” she confirmed. “I am not unaware of the dangers that women face from unscrupulous men. I can only imagine that their reward would be greater if I were to be delivered to my final destination unscathed, as it were.”
*
Their conversation had confirmed two things for Alex. The first was that Miss Mason was incredibly lucky to have escaped the fate that awaited her. Abducting girls and even young boys from the streets had been a very profitable business for unscrupulous souls for ages. There were more than enough houses of ill repute in London that didn’t really care if their staffs were employed willingly or not. Likely, that had been the fate in store for her. A gently-bred young woman or, at the very least, one who spoke as and possessed the demeanor of a lady, especially with Miss Mason’s delicate beauty, would fetch a high price. The second thing that he became rather uncomfortably aware of was that Miss Mason was rather worldly. She understood perfectly what he’d meant when asking if she was unharmed. He now could not help but speculate on just how knowledgeable she was. It was hardly an appropriate train of thought for him, given that she was still quite ill and they were alone in his bedchamber. For her sake, as well as his, he needed to maintain a suitable distance between them.
“And was the man you saw stalking this companion of your brother’s potential mother the same man who abducted you?” Alex asked, noting that the entire thing was incredibly convoluted. It would be easier if she would simply identify the woman to him, but she clearly had her reasons for wishing to keep that information a secret.
“I believe so. It was very dark and difficult to see, then my head was covered entirely, but I caught a glimpse of him that night. Enough to think that it was the same man,” she answered.
Alex leaned back in his chair, contemplating the answer as Mrs. Epson banged on the door and then entered carrying a tea tray. He could trust her to prepare little more than that. Even she could not make a muck of boiling water.
“We’re out of milk,” she groused.
“Then we shall have our tea without it,” he said firmly, the dismissal apparent in his voice.
Mrs. Epson continued on, “Farmer Hayes hasn’t brought any this week.”
“I’ll go and get some tomorrow,” Alex replied. “You may go, Mrs. Epson.”
The housekeeper set the tray down with a thump before the hearth. She made a loud grunting sound that might have been either disapproval or agreement. Her temperament was such that the two were indistinguishable regardless. “Don’t seem right. Pays little to no rent. Don’t bring the things he’s supposed to. Got plenty of money to spend in the village though, he does! Ain’t right. Nothing in the godforsaken place is right though!”
“That will be all, Mrs. Epson. It’s hardly fitting to air our business in front of Miss Mason.”
The old woman narrowed her eyes. “Thought her name was Benedict?”
“I misspoke,” he replied easily. “Her name is Miss Mary Mason. Benedict is her brother’s given name.”
The old woman eyed her steadily for a moment, her mouth twisted into a disapproving grimace. “Seems this house is full of lies and liars these days.”
“That will be all, Mrs. Epson!” Alex repeated, and his voice thundered loudly enough that both women jumped. The housekeeper did at least shuffle toward the door though nothing halted the grumbling under her breath or the daggers she glared at the b
oth of them as she left.
“Your servants do appear to be remarkably cavalier about the permanency of their employment, Lord Wolverton. I am sorry my presence here has made things more difficult for you than they already were,” Miss Mason remarked.
“They are aware, as am I, that I’d be unlikely to find anyone willing to replace them,” he admitted. “After all, very few people are willing to overlook the fact that I am known to be both a murderer and quite poor. I find that the former is infinitely more forgivable for most than the latter. Much can be ignored or forgiven when payment is assured.”
His admission of his financial straits seemed to make her uncomfortable as there was no proper way to respond to it, so Alex changed the subject. “If I were to return you to the area where I first found you, do you think you could lead me to the place where you were held? When you are well enough, of course. I would not risk further injury or a relapse for you. I have suspicions about where it might have been, but I don’t wish to color your memories or judgement by voicing them.”
“I cannot say,” she stated evenly, though he could see that the idea of it unnerved her. “I never really saw it. My head was covered when they took me there, and it was still dark when I fled. Once I was out, I didn’t bother to look back. I just ran.”
“You paused at the roadside,” he said, “when you saw the approaching carriage. How did you know that they meant you ill?”
“I just had a feeling, is all. I can’t really explain it beyond that. I thought to flag them down and beg for assistance but then wondered why they were traveling such a desolate stretch of road at night anyway… and wondered if, perhaps, they were not involved.”
“Does the name Harrelson mean anything to you?” he asked. “Or Hamilton?”
“I’ve never heard either.”
Alex nodded. “Just as well. Finish your supper and then back to bed. You’ll need to inhale more of that foul herbal smoke when you’ve finished your meal.”
Her eyes flashed brightly. “I’m not a child, Lord Wolverton.”
No, she was not. He was acutely aware of that fact as he’d been the one to strip her ruined garments from her and place her in the borrowed nightrail that did not conceal nearly enough of her charms. That vision of her haunted his dreams and infringed far more regularly on his waking hours than was good for either of them. “Miss Mason, you are alone in a bedchamber with me. The only servant in this house is an old woman who sometimes fails to hear a shout when it happens right next to her ear! It would be far better for us both if I could view you as such.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply. He simply rose and stalked from the room. Away from her, he could think. Free of her presence, he did not have to feel the weight of his scandal-ridden name and all that it precluded him from. But there was another part of him, the wicked part, that reminded him she was not a lady of quality and the same rules did not apply. He could make her his mistress, if she were willing. But he recoiled from that. He would not, despite whatever temptation was placed in his path, become the very thing that people had accused him of.
The sad truth of his situation was that she was everything he’d ever desired in a woman. Clearly, she was brave and resourceful, and fiercely loyal to and protective of those she loved. She was also remarkably intelligent, that was obvious from their conversations. All of that coupled with her beauty and the warmth that seemed to radiate from her had left him smitten with her when there was no possibility of a future for them. Whatever the circumstances of her birth, there was no denying that Mary Mason had the bearing and manners of a lady, and to treat her as anything less would be to sacrifice his own honor. So he would continue to desire her, continue to be haunted by the possibilities of what might have been if he’d been in a position to pursue her as a gentleman ought to.
Chapter Four
Benedict Mason, the newly acknowledged, at least by the family, Benedict Middlethorp, Lord Vale, studied the small cell. It was their second trip to Lord Harrelson’s estate and the place where it appeared his sister had been held. The small room hewn out of the walls of the abandoned salt mine were rough and damp. The dirt floor was cold to the touch. It was as silent as a tomb and yielded nothing in the way of new information.
“You are tormenting yourself, Benedict. You must stop this. Mary is not here. If there were any sign of her in this place, you would have discovered it by now!”
He looked up at his betrothed and noted the worried frown that curved her pretty lips downward. They would wed on the morrow in a simple ceremony at a small church in Bath. They had decided to marry by common license rather than have the banns posted and wait additional weeks. It bothered him that he was moving ahead in such a fashion without his sister present, but he also knew that they could not afford to wait. On the off chance that Elizabeth carried his child, it was imperative that they wed as soon as possible. “I cannot help but feel I’ve missed something, Elizabeth. That there must be some clue here to Mary’s whereabouts. She cannot have simply have vanished into thin air.”
“I do not believe there is a clue here, Benedict. I think Mary fled this place and, perhaps, she was injured in her escape. But I cannot help thinking that she has been rescued by some well-meaning person. Even now, she could be in a coach making for London, thinking to return there to you! If your sister managed to escape this cell, overpowering a guard who was stronger and larger than she could ever hope to be, you must have a little faith in her ability to fend for herself.”
Even after all she’d been through and the evil they had been forced to confront, Elizabeth had hope for the world. He did not. It was just as likely, if not more so, that Mary had not been rescued at all but that she’d been re-apprehended and handed over to the very people Harrelson had sold her to. If that were the case, they might never find her. But saying that to Elizabeth on the eve of their wedding would only rob her of joy. He sighed. “I pray you are right. If you are not, I’ve engaged an artist to make a drawing based on the miniature of Mary. It will be given to a printer and distributed in every town and village in this county. If someone found her or saw her, they will come forward and claim the offered reward… I hope.”
Elizabeth frowned as she stepped closer to him. She placed one hand tenderly on his face, “What is it that you really fear, my love?”
He should have known he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her. She saw right through him and had from the very moment of their first meeting. “That Harrelson found her. That when she fled this dungeon, she made her way straight into his clutches… and now he is dead and we may never know what fate he sent her to,” Benedict admitted. It was the first time he’d voiced that terrible fear aloud but, with it out, he could not take it back. “I promised her that I would always keep her safe and I have failed her miserably.”
“Mary is a grown woman, Benedict. Take it from me when I tell you that women don’t always need to be sheltered or protected. She figured out who you were before anyone else did. Mary knew that you were Lord Vale! If she was intelligent enough to piece all of that together, to escape this place by duping her guard, then I cannot imagine she would be so easily recaptured. You give her far too little credit,” Elizabeth chided.
“I am her brother—”
“And she lied to you about where she was going and what she was doing because she was driven by the same need to protect her sibling that you feel now. Trust that she is resourceful enough to have rescued herself, Benedict. Otherwise you will drive yourself mad.”
He rose to his feet. “You are correct. I know that you are. But what I feel isn’t rational, Elizabeth. For so long, all we had was one another. I need to know she is safe!”
“Then we will postpone our wedding and you will be able to devote the time you need to solving this mystery and locating your sister,” she offered.
“I don’t want to do that. We cannot afford to do that. It is scandalous enough that a lost heir who’s been running a gaming hell will now lay claim to a t
itle and marry his mother’s companion! If you are with child and that child is born even a week sooner than anticipated—”
“Then we will get to rejoice in the birth of our child a week sooner than anticipated,” she interrupted. “Neither of us is free from scandal. If Freddy tells everyone about my past then it will not matter what we do. All of society will slam their doors in our faces, and I’m not even certain that I care. Let us focus on the important things here! Let us find your sister and when she is returned to you, she can attend our wedding and celebrate our happiness with us.”
He pulled her close, kissed her tenderly, and whispered, “I do not deserve you, but I mean to keep you all the same.”
“I will remind you of that when you receive the bill for my trousseau,” she teased. “Now, let’s retrace our steps to the road and the point where you found that scrap of her clothing. We may yet find something new to lead us in the right direction.”
He nodded in agreement and they left the small cell, making their way out of the darkened tunnels of the mine with the light of a single lantern. Once they emerged into the brilliant sunlight of the afternoon, Benedict aided Elizabeth to mount her horse. His hand strayed momentarily beneath the hem of her riding habit, tracing the curve of a shapely calf until she smacked his hand. “Behave.”
“That would be a very unlikely turn of events,” he replied with a grin, more like his old self than when in the awful cell that had been Mary’s. “I’ve never been very good at it.”
“Try to be better,” she said. “Or at the very least, restrict your misbehavior to more private times.”
Neither of them had noted the small, thin man who followed them. He skulked behind trees, hid behind rocks, and made himself invisible to them as he observed them. He was following his instructions and keeping a close watch on Benedict Middlethorp, the newly recognized Lord Vale, just as Lord Wolverton had asked. When the couple rode away, he allowed the distance between them to grow. He did not need to follow them as he knew precisely where they were going. What he did need to do was find out if what he’d heard was actually true. Was Miss Mason’s brother the long lost Viscount Vale? The answers would be found in Bath. There was a pretty housemaid there that often fed him tidbits of information. No doubt, she’d be able to get what he needed from one of the servants in Lord Vale’s house.
The Mystery of Miss Mason (The Lost Lords Book 5) Page 5
