Enduring Love

by Bonnie Leon

  Hannah rested her head on Lydia’s shoulder. “You’re a good friend.”

  Lydia gave her a quick squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get us some morning tea, eh.”

  The two made their way to the dining room. A large mahogany table nearly filled the room. A paunchy man sat at one end, a cup of coffee in hand. His face rounded when he smiled. He stood. “Good day, ladies.”

  “Good day,” Lydia said.

  “Ah, so yer going to join us, then,” Elen Jones said, setting a platter of scones on the table.

  “We’ve eaten,” Hannah said. “But a cup of tea would be nice.”

  “Fine.”

  An elderly couple sat across from the man who’d greeted them. The gentleman stood. “Good day.”

  Lydia and Hannah both nodded and smiled.

  “Mr. Booth, what can I get for you?” Elen asked.

  “My wife and I would like tea to go with our scones,” he said, returning to his seat.

  Elen bounced as she moved about the room, filling cups and serving the morning meal of scones, eggs, and fried pork. When she came to a man sitting at the end of the table and staring into his cup, she asked, “And how ’bout you, can I get you more coffee, Mr. Douglas?”

  The rhythm of Hannah’s heart picked up as her eyes fell upon the man. He looked fatigued and unfriendly. That’s him. He wasn’t what she expected, not exactly unattractive but a bit pudgy and unkempt.

  Lydia leaned close to Hannah and whispered, “Looks like he’s been at the grog.”

  Hannah agreed. He’d not said a word, but she didn’t like him. How could Margaret be interested in someone like him?

  “Ye look a bit done in,” Elen said to Mr. Douglas.

  “That I am. But another cup of your fine coffee ought to perk me up.”

  She filled his mug and left the room.

  Mr. Douglas sipped, looking over his cup at the newcomers.

  “Something ye need from me, ladies?” He smiled grimly.

  “N-no,” Hannah said, realizing she’d been staring.

  “We’ll be fine with just tea.” Lydia took a place at the table. Hannah slid into the chair beside her, wondering what she ought to say next. How did one get information out of a stranger?

  “We’ve just checked in,” Lydia said. “You?”

  “I’ve been here a good while.” He took another drink of his coffee.

  “Have ye traveled a great distance?”

  “Should say so—all the way from London.”

  “Oh, London, really? Do ye have a business establishment here, then?”

  He gazed at Lydia through bloodshot eyes. “No. And I’ve nearly completed my affairs and will soon be sailing home.”

  Elen returned, carrying a tray with a teakettle and cups and saucers. Setting it on the table, she filled the cups and set one in front of Hannah and then Lydia. “Are ye sure I can’t offer ye ladies something to eat?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of trying one of the scones. They look grand,” Lydia said.

  Elen offered her the plate. Lydia took one and dipped it into her tea before taking a bite. “Mmm. This is delicious.”

  Elen smiled. “Thank ye. It was me mum’s recipe.” She looked at Hannah. “And you, would ye like something?”

  “A scone will be fine.” Hannah wasn’t at all hungry, but she took a scone to show she had a legitimate reason for being at the table.

  “All right, then. I’ve a pile of dishes waiting for me.” Elen disappeared through a door Hannah guessed led to the kitchen.

  Lydia dipped her scone again and took another bite. “What kind of business are you in, Mr. Douglas?”

  He leaned his arms on the table. “Just Weston will be fine.” He held his mug in both hands. “Actually, I’m here on speculation, considering just what kind of business might do well in this town. Haven’t made up my mind, but I’m considering importing goods. There’s a need for more suppliers, I’d say.”

  “So ye’d open a mercantile, then?”

  “Perhaps. But more likely I’d supply the shops and mercantiles here in the local townships.” He eyed Lydia more closely. “And you, where are you from?”

  Hannah felt a moment of panic. What if he connected them with Margaret?

  “My husband is a physician in Parramatta,” Lydia said casually, her smile warm.

  Hannah made note not to trust Lydia so thoroughly. She was quite a good actress.

  “Ah, so you’re married, then.”

  “I am. He’s a fine man.”

  Weston Douglas turned his dark eyes on Hannah. “And you?”

  “I work as a housemaid, nothing quite so grand as being married to a doctor.” She was surprised to hear a cheery, friendly lilt to her voice.

  He downed the last of his coffee. “Well, have a grand day, ladies. I’ve business to attend to.” He pushed away from the table, picked up his hat, and with a slight bow to all gathered at the table, he walked out.

  His leaving seemed to be a sign to the others. The Booths and the other gentleman rose and left the room.

  Hannah pressed a hand to the base of her throat. “Oh, I just nearly fainted. I wasn’t at all sure what to say.”

  “Ye did fine.” Lydia smiled. “But we didn’t learn much. I suppose we’ll have to wait until dinner, eh.”

  “And what do we do until then?”

  “I say, a day of shopping is in order. Christmas is nearly here, and I was hoping to find something for David.”

  “Of course . . . Christmas.” Hannah had nearly forgotten. Her mind went to how this Christmas would be different than last. She pressed her palms together on the table in front of her and forced herself to think on what was at hand. “How are we going to discover anything from Mr. Douglas? We can’t openly question him.”

  “He’s sociable. Sometimes if ye just bide yer time and wait, fellas like him will tell ye all ye need to know without asking. They usually love to talk ’bout themselves.”

  “What is it that you need to find out? Perhaps I can be of help,” Elen said.

  Hannah and Lydia swung around. They’d not heard her enter the room. “We were just wondering where we might find Christmas gifts for our families,” Hannah managed to say.

  “Oh well, there are a couple of fine shops not far from here. Are ye shopping for yer families?”

  “That we are,” said Lydia.

  Elen smiled. “The Johnson’s have a fine store just down the street. They’ve toys of all sorts.” She moved to the window and glanced out. “Ye just step out and turn right. It’s not far.”

  “Thank you.” Lydia dipped the last of her scone into her tea.

  Elen cleared away cups and saucers and moved into the kitchen.

  Lydia finished her tea. “While we’re looking for gifts, we can inquire as to Weston Douglas’s activities.”

  “We’ll look suspicious.”

  “Not at all. People love to gossip.” Lydia smiled. “Come on. It’s time we were on our way.”

  “We ought to tell Dalton.”

  “My guess is he’s napping. I remember when I used to work at the estate. He’d take a mid-morning nap whenever he could manage.”

  Hannah smiled. “He still does, if he’s not needed. Still, we must tell him what we’ve learned—”

  “Which is very little.” Lydia picked up her reticule. “We can tell him later.” She sounded almost giddy.

  “You’re enjoying this too much.”

  “I admit it is a bit fun. Life sometimes feels tedious. This is very much like a treasure hunt.”

  Hannah felt herself grow angry. She folded her arms over her chest. “We’re not searching for treasure. And what we find might possibly wreak havoc on the only man I’ve ever loved.”

  Lydia gave Hannah a disdainful look. “I know. Ye’ve told me. But did ye ever think that he might be happy to know the truth?”

  Lydia plopped down on the bed. “I think David will like his new muffler, don’t ye?” She held up a dark blue scarf she’d p
urchased.

  “It’s the middle of summer, Lydia.”

  “Yes, but winter will come. It was a good price.”

  “That’s because no one wants mufflers in the summer.” Hannah shook her head slightly, then smiled. “It is a nice scarf.”

  “And I’m sure he’ll enjoy the tobacco too,” Lydia said.

  Hannah felt melancholy. She had no husband to buy for. How nice it would be to purchase pipe tobacco for John. She’d always liked the smell of it.

  “I’m sure Thomas will love his Bilbo Catcher.” Lydia shook her head slightly. “How children can catch a tiny ball in a cup on top of a wooden spindle I’ll never know. I can’t manage it.” She wrapped the scarf about her neck. “It was a fine day, but I wish we’d discovered more about Mr. Douglas.”

  “Maybe there’s nothing to be found.” Hannah sat in the side chair and stuck her legs straight out in front of her, crossing her ankles.

  A knock sounded at the door. Lydia pushed herself off the bed. “Who is it?”

  “Dalton Keen.”

  Lydia opened the door. “Why, hello. Wherever did ye get off to? We’ve not seen ye all day.”

  “I apologize. But after you left this morning, I thought I’d have a go at finding information on our Mr. Douglas.”

  “And did ye discover anything?” asked Lydia.

  “I did, in fact.”

  “Ye did? Please, come in.”

  Dalton’s face turned a slight pink. “It’s not proper—a man in your room.”

  Lydia stepped out and glanced up and down the hallway. “No one will see. Come in.”

  Taking another look down the corridor, Dalton stepped inside, and Lydia closed the door behind him.

  “Well, what is it?” she asked.

  “It seems that Mr. Douglas hasn’t been completely forthcoming about his business affairs. He professes to be contemplating opening a business here, but since his arrival, he’s done nothing toward that end. Rather, he spends his time drinking and gambling.”

  “Really?” Hannah felt her pulse quicken. “Perhaps he truly is a scoundrel.”

  “Highly likely, I’d say.” Dalton looked at the door, obviously feeling uneasy about being in the ladies’ room.

  “If he’s not here on business, then what reason can he have?” Lydia asked. “What do ye think he and Margaret are up to?”

  “What can they possibly want from John?” Hannah asked. “The farm is only now beginning to prosper and certainly isn’t worth traveling all the way from London for.”

  “That’s true.” Lydia folded her arms over her chest. “There must be something we don’t know ’bout John or the situation.”

  The room turned quiet. Finally, Hannah said, “There’s nothing I can think of.”

  “He’s not got a fortune hid, then?”

  “No. Of course not. I’d know. He lost everything when he went to gaol—his cousin saw to that.”

  “There’s nothing much to be done except to speak with more people and to listen,” Lydia said. “Perhaps we’ll discover something ’bout our Mr. Douglas at dinner.”

  “I’ll not be there,” Dalton said. “I’ve been invited to dine with a friend.” A blush rose up from his neck and into his cheeks.

  “Why, Dalton, yer blushing. Is this a special friend?”

  He pressed his lips tightly together. “A lady friend of mine.”

  “I had no idea.” Lydia clapped her hands together.

  Dalton’s blush deepened. “I’d best be on my way.”

  Hannah walked to the door, opened it, and peeked out. “No one’s about.” She opened the door wider. “We’ll see you at breakfast, then.”

  “Tomorrow.” He stepped outside, and Hannah closed the door behind him.

  “How ’bout that, eh? Dalton has a lady friend.” Lydia smiled.

  “He’s a good man. Whoever she is, she’s lucky to have him.” “True.” Lydia turned to the armoire. “We’d best get dressed for dinner. Perhaps tonight we’ll learn more ’bout Mr. Douglas and Margaret.”

  Just as the evening meal ended, Weston Douglas swaggered into the dining room. “Good evening to ye.” His words slid into each other, mangling the language. “Hope ye all had a fine day.” He smiled and grabbed the back of a chair.

  He’s besotted! Hannah thought.

  Weston moved around to the front of the chair and dropped into it. “Sorry I’m late. Just out with friends.” He smirked. “Cards. Always been a good player.” His smile slid sideways up his face and then turned into a sneer. “One fellow tried to cheat me.” His blue eyes looked cold.

  Hannah didn’t much like Weston. Evidently neither did the elderly couple, the Booths. They excused themselves and left the room.

  Weston called after them, “Don’t leave on my account. I’ll behave myself.” He snickered. “Oh well.” Leaning on the table, he looked at Elen. “Seems I’m in need of a meal.”

  “It would seem,” Elen said in a disgusted tone. “Ye should have had something before ye started downing the grog.”

  Ignoring the comment, he looked straight at Hannah, his dark eyes penetrating. “Do I know you?”

  “Yes. We met briefly this morning.” Hannah felt her heart flutter. He couldn’t possibly know her, could he?

  “Ah yes. You’re the quiet one with the dark eyes. Lovely eyes, I might add.”

  “Here ye go. Ye’ll need this.” Elen set a bowl of stew in front of Weston and then poured him a cup of coffee. “Ye should stay away from the spirits.”

  “Right you are. I lost a goodly amount of money. It matters not. Soon I’ll have more than I can spend, me and my lovely lady.”

  “Oh, are you married?” Lydia asked.

  Hannah had to admire Lydia’s aplomb. Nothing seemed to unsettle her.

  “No. But I’ve a fine lady who loves me. And she’ll be coming into a goodly amount of money soon.”

  Alarm pulsed through Hannah. Was his lady Margaret? “Have you a business venture in the works, Mr. Douglas?”

  He set his gaze on Hannah, grinned devilishly, and then leaned toward her, saying in a hushed tone, “Ah yes, I do at that. Well, Margaret and I do.”

  The name Margaret exploded in Hannah’s mind.

  “Her husband, poor soul, will soon be meeting his Maker. When he’s gone, she inherits a fortune.”

  Hannah felt the room sway. He can’t be speaking of John! “Is her husband ill?” she asked.

  “The good Lord will be taking him home soon. But then one man’s loss is another’s gain, eh?” The sloppy grin returned. “Margaret and I have plans, but the first thing we’ll do is sail back to London. I’ll be glad to leave this vermin-infested hole.” He swayed even though he was sitting. His eyes closed and his head dropped against the back of the chair. He didn’t move.

  “He’s passed out,” Lydia said.

  Elen shook her head with disdain. “Not the first time. I’ll have to get someone to carry him to his bed.” She walked through the kitchen door.

  “What do you think he was talking about?” Hannah asked, her throat tight with dread.

  “Does John possess a fortune?”

  “No. Not at all. You know that.” Hannah looked at Weston. “Do you think he was talking about the quinsy? Perhaps he thinks John is still sick.”

  “That makes no sense. We’d best tell John ’bout this straightaway. Something’s not right.”

  “I’ll tell him, but not yet. I have to know more.”

  “What do ye have in mind?”

  Hannah thought. She must find out what Margaret and Douglas’s scheme was. “Perhaps he has something that would shed light on what they have planned and why. We could search his room.” Hannah said it even before the idea had fully taken hold, but already she knew that’s exactly what they must do.

  19

  Hannah paced between the window and the settee where Lydia sat looking relaxed. Dalton stood just outside the parlor door, appearing casual and unruffled. Hannah wondered how either of them
could remain composed with so much at stake.

  “Hannah, sit down,” Lydia said. “Ye’ll wear a ditch in the floor.” She patted the cushion beside her.

  “I can’t sit.” She looked from Lydia to Dalton. “I don’t know how the two of you can remain so calm.”

  “I’m not at all, really,” Lydia said. “I’d say expectation would better fit what I’m feeling. If Margaret has been up to no good, it’s ’bout time she was found out. I’ll be glad to expose the truth.”

  Dalton rested a hand on the doorframe. “The more tenuous a situation, the more tranquil I become . . . on the outside.” He grinned. “Used to drive my sister to distraction.”

  Hannah returned to the window and gazed out. “I’m not sure I feel right about this. If we’re caught breaking into someone else’s room—”

  “We’re not breaking in. We’ll just be . . . visiting and having a look ’round. And besides, it was yer idea.”

  Hannah turned to Lydia. “And perhaps it’s not a good one. If we’re caught, we could end up back in gaol.”

  Steps sounded on the stairs, and Dalton clasped his hands behind his back and moved into the entryway. “Good day,” he said casually.

  “Fine day it is too.” Weston Douglas moved to the parlor door and glanced inside. “Top of the morning to you, ladies.” His eyes seemed to graze as they took in Hannah and Lydia. Hannah managed to smile and nod.

  Lydia stood. “It’s a grand day,” she said with enthusiasm, her smile bright.

  I’d have no idea she was up to something, Hannah thought, not sure she ought to be proud of Lydia or disappointed in her.

  Weston tipped his hat. “Well, I’m off. I’ve a busy day ahead.”

  “We’ll look for you at dinner,” Lydia said as Weston walked to the door and stepped outside, seemingly oblivious to her and their encounter.

  Lydia joined Hannah at the window, and the two watched him stroll down the street toward the pub. “Bit early to be imbibing. But just as well. His vice gives us better opportunity for searching his room.” Lydia took Hannah’s arm and started across the room.

  “Lydia, I think it best if you stay,” Dalton said almost apologetically.

  “Me?” She stopped and stared at him.