by Raine Miller
With tears falling she nodded. “I do believe you. Thank you for your honesty, my darling. We never have need to speak of this again.” She drew close to him, nestling her head under his chin, simply holding on as he drew his arms around her. “But true love is a durable fire…In the mind ever burning…Never sick, never old, never dead…From itself never turning.” She quoted Raleigh’s ballad again. “My heart is full,” she whispered.
“As is mine, chérie.” He held her against him and stroked over her hair for a long time after that.
Graham’s decision had been made for him. Fate had come for him and he could not stop the forces at work. He had to find a way to tell her about Agnes or the torment of guilt was going to eat him alive.
Later that night, with tranquility and peacefulness between them, Imogene felt the pull of slumber when she heard Graham’s words and was immediately roused.
“I have a trouble, chérie. I am loathe to tell you, but knowing how you dislike me not sharing all with you, I know I must. In truth I have never considered this affair to be of my concern and it is certainly not of my doing, but now it seems it is part of my inheritance. The ugly past is rearing its head, demanding its due and I fear there is nothing to impede it. I dread your exposure to it, and hate to have it touch you, fearing that you will regret marrying into my wretched family with all of its damn skeletons and suggestions of depravity—” His voice came to her low and anguished.
“Graham, you must know I will be in support of you no matter what comes. I can never regret our marriage. And your family is not wretched; it is a lovely family. For better or for worse, remember?”
He squeezed her hand, exhaling deeply. “My brother Jasper was not content with destroying merely his own life—he dragged others down with him as well. He ruined a young girl, seduced her, and cared not a whit about what he had done. She bore a child. Her name was Agnes and she claimed Jasper was the father of her babe, and even worse, that he had forced her. My mother appealed to my father and all hell broke loose. Jasper was away on a flit somewhere, when Father attempted to locate him, to no avail. I have never seen my father so angry. The shame and disgrace completely overwhelmed him, contributing to his failing health. My parents agreed to support the girl and arrangements were made for her to have her child in a safe and decent environment. They must have believed her claim for they did not contest it. In truth I think they were surprised to have not faced the prospect of other by-blows from Jasper arriving at their doorstep before that.”
“Oh, Graham, how dreadful. What happened to Agnes, to her baby?”
“The baby was born winter of aught eight, a girl she named Clarabelle. My brother died that summer and never acknowledged or saw his child.” Graham paused for a time and Imogene did not press. She imagined he was trying to gather the right words to continue. Holding on to his hand, she stroked softly with her other hand, waiting for him until he was ready.
“After Jasper’s death my parents grieved of course. For all his faults, he was still their son and heir. My mother wished to know her grandchild, little Clara being her only remaining link to Jasper. Father would not allow it. He forbade her to see the child and this caused a terrible breach between my parents that lasted right up until his apoplexy about a year later. He lingered on for a few months, having nearly daily audiences with me. My father was weak and it was difficult for him to speak. He was determined to counsel me and share his wishes and experience in handing over the barony to me. It was a difficult time—” Graham stopped abruptly, the painful memories too poignant to describe. He scrubbed his face with his hands, working to regain composure. “This is very hard to speak of.”
“I know, my darling, it must be very hard. If you tell me everything you might feel better being unburdened. Carrying this weight upon your shoulders exclusively is wrong. Whatever we must face, we will do it together and it will be resolved somehow.”
He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Imogene. Thank you for being as you are, so loving and sympathetic.” He took a deep breath and resumed the history. “My father may not have wished for my mother to acknowledge Jasper’s child, but he did make sure that Agnes and Clara would be supported for their lifetimes, securing my promise to see that it was carried out. After Father died, my mother was further broken down in grief, but still determined to know about her granddaughter. You see, my mother lost a baby girl, my sister, Vivienne, born between Colin and me. She died of a fever before her first birthday. Whether as a replacement for Vivienne or to connect with Jasper, my mother ached to know Clara. She was obsessed with her, sending messengers to spy on Agnes and her baby who later reported back with information. I couldn’t stop my mother and didn’t even try to. Apparently, little Clara has the green eyes that further confirmed her to be Jasper’s child. Interesting, since they must have skipped a generation because Jasper did not have our green eyes—his eyes were brown.”
Graham seemed very wistful as he brought up all that deep history to the surface. “I know my mother visited Clara and saw her at least twice. That’s all I know. Learning my duties as master of the estate consumed every waking moment then, and that time is exceptionally foggy for me. I had to immerse myself in order to be competent. Mr. Duncan has been a rock of support. I don’t know how I could have done it without him there. He saw to the regular payments of support for Agnes over the years and things continued as usual during my absence to Ireland. Agnes was set up in her own cottage in Gladfield where she went by the name of Mrs. Schellman, posing as a war widow. She takes in sewing as a seamstress; being a tailor’s daughter she is good with a needle. Or at least she did, for we have lost contact and know not where Agnes and Clara are.”
“Recently, Duncan informed me of an irregularity with Agnes’s stipend. There were some suspicious withdrawals from her money. It seems she sent a letter requesting a change of address, for her stipend to be routed to Yorkshire. This raised further suspicions, and I sent Duncan to investigate. I got word from him the day before we left for Everfell and the information he passed along is not good.” Graham wearily rested his forehead in his hand. “Duncan was able to discover that Agnes’s cottage in Gladfield was visited by a man who it appears, was dallying with her maid. Within a week, the cottage was vacated and they were gone with no word to anybody. Upon inquiring as to the man’s description, Duncan was told he wore regimentals. That fact, combined with the Yorkshire address is now leading me to believe in the involvement of one nefarious, Ralph Odeman.” Graham’s lips curled in distaste when he spoke the name.
Imogene gasped the moment he spoke the name, feeling a shiver of dread overtake her whole body.
“What is it? Have you heard of him?” Graham gripped her by the shoulders and stared. “Imogene?”
“Oh, my God, Graham, do not be angry with me,” she begged in fear. The look on her husband’s face terrified her even more. “I met him in London at a modiste’s shop a few weeks before our wedding.”
“What did he do?” he shouted. “That lump of horseshit approached you, Imogene?”
She cringed at his tone and harsh language. “Yeees…he asked me my opinion on some gloves, and introduced himself as Ralph Odeman. He told me he was buying a gift for his sister,” she answered in a timid voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he barked. The anger in his words and the expression on his face made him appear dreadful.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “He was just a man asking about gloves.”
Graham loosened his grip and kissed her on the forehead. “I am sorry for shouting and scaring you, chérie, I am in shock at his boldness in approaching you.”
“Graham, there is more,” she said meekly.
“There is?” he asked dumbfounded, his jaw hardening again.
“I forgot about him completely, but then, right before we came to Everfell he sent to me a package—a pair of buff leather gloves exactly like the ones in the shop. There was a note inside one of the gloves. It said som
ething like, “accept this wedding present from a grateful friend who you may call upon if you’re ever in need. I can provide you with answers to some questions you will have cause to ponder in the near future. Your servant, Ralph Odeman.”
Graham stilled, frozen in complete horror at what she’d just told him. She knew what his next question would be, too.
“I didn’t tell you because it unnerved me. I didn’t understand why he would send me a gift. I knew you wouldn’t like it and I could tell you were burdened by other things. I didn’t want to cause you any more worry.” She lost the battle with her tears then and let them fall freely. “I am sorry, Graham. I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have, Imogene. He is dangerous and the thought that he was close enough to you to even dare to engage you in a conversation has me tied up in knots. I will see him hang for what he has done. First my cousin Elle, then Agnes, and now he dares to ensnare you, my wife, in his poisonous net of evil? He is a marked man.”
“Graham, you are frightening me.” Imogene felt herself begin to shake. The wave of dread she’d felt when she’d seen Ralph Odeman on the street staring at her in her carriage returned all in an instant, a hundred times more fierce than it had felt to her then. What did Elle have to do with Ralph Odeman?
He immediately softened and held her close, kissing over her face and hair. “I am sorry for scaring you, Imogene. The history with him is terrible and dreadful. I cannot bear that he has tried to contact you, that he has even looked at you and told you his name.”
“He has done evil things? And to Elle?” She was almost scared to know.
“Yes. Ralph Odeman is the worst sort of man. Recently he came to Kent and seduced a girl—Emily was her name. She died in birthing his child. Hargreave told me of how dreadful it was for her parents. They departed in disgrace. Emily was their only child and they are raising her baby, a son.” Graham sighed heavily. “That is bad enough, but Odeman tried to do such before. He preyed on another young girl two years ago…my cousin Elle.”
“No!”
“He did.” Graham nodded sorrowfully. “Trying to elope with her to gain her marriage settlement. Gratefully Jules was able to stop him in time and retrieved her. Elle was completely terrorized at only sixteen years of age. Odeman threatened exposure and to ruin her reputation, making her unmarriageable. Jules paid off Odeman’s debts, bought him a commission in the British Army, set him up in Yorkshire, everything. Jules was bled very deeply—thousands of pounds. Odeman is lower than a rabid dog. He needs to be put down. Any advantage he could gain, hurting anyone in the process, would matter naught to him. Nothing is beneath his daring.”
“I cannot believe it. How horrible for Elle.”
“She was hurt by him, an innocent child devastated by his treatment of her. Ralph Odeman is a poor relation of the Julian family, taken on in charity by my aunt and uncle as a youth. He grew up at Everfell and I have known him all my life. Jules and I had little toleration for him as children as he was always scheming some evil mischief in an annoying or cruel way, growing worse with age. For all that Jules and I could do without him, my brother Jasper could not. Jasper and Ralph Odeman got on very well, enjoying the same dissipations and carousing tastes. Being of the same age and attitude, they went off together at school and remained devoted through each step of Jasper’s descent into his eventual demise. I know Odeman was aware of Agnes and Clara and I now suspect he might attempt blackmail on me. He has always been jealous of our wealth and his lack of it, although he has squandered every advantage he was ever given. Maybe expecting to be paid for his silence about Clara being Jasper’s misborn is his goal. I now know he’s heard of my marriage to you, a lady of rank and wealth, and determines he can use it to his advantage—threatening to expose the secret and bring further shame and tarnish to the family. I shared everything with Jules and Colin last night and they concur with my assessment.”
“What can be done now?” Once again, her fortitude astounded him. She did not slink away from this information, but rather asked how to help. Beautiful.
“Well, we first must locate them. I am worried that some evil has befallen Agnes and Clara. Mr. Duncan is searching with other agents for them. Until then, we wait.”
“Dear Lord, are you never to have any peace? Graham, I do not want you to worry about me in this. Even if Odeman exposes the child as illegitimate, he will still need your good graces to get his money.”
“I have no graces for him. Not a one! And I detest to giving him money, Imogene. I cannot bear his hold over me. It feels like Jasper has reached up from the grave contriving to wreak damage and pain, as he did in life. I would rather deal with the exposure and the scandal if it comes to that. But that is just me, and I now have you to consider. What would you have me do, chérie?”
“What you know is right, and to worry naught about what others might think, say, or do. Those who rely on you for their livelihood and your friends know you. Their respect for you will not alter based on the claims of a scoundrel like Ralph Odeman.”
“But what of you? What if you suffer for it? It’s all my fault—” Graham stopped abruptly.
“How might I suffer, and anyway, how is any of this your fault?”
“Some sanctimonious ass might cut you in public, just because they can get away with it. Bringing down our family in shame could be a thrill for those who’d love to see the golden wings of the Rothvales clipped by way of a ‘bastard’ child. I have wrought this, Imogene. Not…seeing to my responsibilities as I should have…running away to Ireland.” He lowered his head, his shame and anguish apparent.
“Let them cut me then, if they are so inclined. I am not bothered by such intolerant behaviours. And you didn’t run away. You were restoring your soul. There is a difference.” She squeezed his hands. “Look up at me, Graham.”
He lifted heart-piercing, sad eyes to her face, his hand moving of its own will, brushing her face, tracing her lips.
She spoke gently. “No more self-deprecating. Any reasonable person would know it is not the child’s fault nor is it Agnes’s if what you say about her being ‘forced’ is true. Your mother would want you to find them, and insure their safety, and see to their care.”
He nodded again. “I know. You are right, she would want that.”
He held her then, simply held on, as if he was drawing her strength and her love into him, and hoping that somehow, someway, he could make everything right for those who had been wronged.
Imogene hoped and prayed for the same.
IMOGENE woke the next morning to an empty bed, Graham having risen before her as was his usual habit. As soon as she was up and moving she felt it. The nausea. It gripped her firmly and swiftly. She was hard pressed to make it to the water closet before her stomach unleashed. It’s starting, just like Philippa said. Sick in the mornings.
Hester heard her and rushed in. “Lady Rothvale, are you ill?”
“I’ve just gotten sick,” she groaned. “Hester, please bring me dry toast and tea up here. I’m just going to lay back down for a bit.”
“Right away, my lady.” Hester nodded with a knowing look and helped her mistress back to bed.
“Please do not alert Lord Rothvale. He will worry excessively. I’ll be better as soon as I can take some tea and toast.” She dropped back into the pillows.
“Do not worry yourself, my lady. I’ll take care of everything. Just rest now.”
IMOGENE gazed adoringly at her niece Gwendolyn’s sweet face as she slept peacefully in her arms. I’m going to have a baby of my own. A baby is growing inside me right now. We’ve started one. I’m going to be a mother. Graham’s going to be a father—
“She is beautiful, Imogene.” Colin’s words broke through her reverie as he peeked down to admire the baby.
“She is, isn’t she?” she agreed, smiling up at him. “Colin, are you soft on babies? I had no idea.”
“I’m afraid so, babies and puppies are a definite weakness,” he joked.
“Philippa! Colin is admiring your daughter and has confessed to a weakness for babies and puppies,” she called to her sister, cheerfully. “Quite unusual for a man to admit to such.”
“Thank you, Sister, for exposing me,” he teased back, still admiring Gwendolyn. “Mrs. Brancroft, your daughter is lovely and sure to break scores of hearts one day, I predict.”
“Mr. Everley, you are very kind in compliments to my daughter, but for all that I am partial to her, I daresay I might get more sleep if she were a puppy,” Philippa countered.
They all laughed at her joke. It was a mild day and the house party guests were enjoying a picnic on the lawn, with some shooting at targets, some lounging. Graham and Jules were off a ways from the group, deep in conversation. Imogene assumed it was about Ralph Odeman and the troubles he had related to her last night. Philippa and John had arrived earlier in the day. Jules’s cousin, Colonel Nicholas Hargreave, arrived just before luncheon. The ball was tomorrow and the house was starting to fill with guests.
Mina joined in then, “Oh, my God! I am in disbelief.” The letter she had been reading fluttered to her lap. She looked up with distress showing clearly in her face. “My sister Jocelyn has accepted an offer of marriage. She is to marry at the beginning of May, to a Mr. Calvin Thornton, a widower of five and forty years. I cannot believe it. I—I am utterly dumbfounded.”
“I don’t remember him. Who is he, Mina?” Imogene was also astounded. “Is that a letter from Jocelyn? What does she say?” Imogene wondered if she had her own letter from Jocelyn awaiting her at Gavandon.
