by Anne Ireland
“There is an alternative,” Hester said. “Speak to Captain Crawford. I believe he might be the right person to advise you.”
“I had intended to do so this evening,” Geraldine said, “but he has gone off somewhere on important business. I think to Yorkshire or some such place. He may be gone for some days.”
“Nevertheless, you must continue as before,” Hester stressed the point. “Believe me, Geraldine. I know that man. He is not suitable for you to meet alone. He is ruthless and . . . inconsiderate of other’s feelings. You do so at your peril.”
Geraldine’s eyes widened. “Has he hurt you, Hester dearest?”
“Yes. Once, a long time ago.” She hesitated, then, “I cannot tell you all, but he ruined my life. He does not remember me now, and I thank God for it but . . . he broke my heart.” Other factors had contributed to her misery, but it had been Richard Mortimer who had seduced and had left her to her father’s anger.
“Then I shall have nothing to do with him, but I shall write to William and warn him that he may have an enemy who may try to trap him and then accuse him of cheating at cards—and what you have told me, Hester, remains with me. None shall hear it from my lips.”
“I know that you would never betray a confidence. Are you feeling a little better? Shall we return to the ballroom or would you rather go home?”
“I am very much better now that I have spoken to you.” Geraldine’s color had returned, and she seemed happier.
“Then I am pleased I could help a little.”
The two ladies returned to the ballroom and their friends, and Hester was gratified to see that Geraldine smiling again as she allowed her partner to take her onto the dance floor. However, an hour or so later she happened to see Richard Mortimer making his way towards them. Knowing that Geraldine had for some unaccountable reason left a space on her dance card, she turned to Henry Blackwater urgently.
“Please take Geraldine as your partner. Ask no questions, do it!”
“At your service, Miss Weston!” Henry’s eyes danced with amusement as he whisked Geraldine off from under the nose of the outraged Richard Mortimer.
Hester was, for a moment, alone. Mortimer came up to her. She steeled herself to withstand his glare. She had feared him the first time that she saw him in company, but she had learned to control her nerves and was able to greet him with a cool nod.
His gaze went over her. Hester was looking particularly lovely that evening in a fashionable gown of deep emerald and, had she known it, her preference for rich colors made her stand out from the young girls dressed in white or pastels. She had an air about her, something that had become more marked this week as she gained in confidence.
“Do I know you?” Mortimer asked. His brow creased as he struggled with an elusive memory.
“No, I believe not,” Hester lied. Inside, she was trembling, but outwardly, she remained calm, a little aloof. She was not the young innocent who had fallen for his charm and been so cruelly betrayed.
“I seem to remember you from somewhere but the memory escapes me.” There was a sudden predatory gleam in his dark eyes. “Will you dance?”
“I thank you, no,” she replied with dignity. “My partner comes now.”
She smiled as the young man came up to her. “Our dance I believe, Mr. Jones.”
“Yes, Miss Weston.” He bowed and took her hand. A slight, fair man he had a gentle air about him that was appealing to a very young girl, and for her own part, Hester liked him well. She believed he would make Geraldine happy if they were to wed. “Was that gentleman annoying you?” he asked as they joined the other dancers. “I believe he is a gentleman of unsavory character and you might do well to avoid being alone with him.”
“You do not need to warn me, sir,” Hester said with a little shiver. “I have no wish to speak to that particular gentleman at all.”
* * * *
Had Hester realized that Mortimer’s eyes continued to follow her for the rest of the evening she would not have slept a wink that night.
Fortunately, the gentleman in question had not yet recalled just where he had seen the enigmatic Miss Weston, but she intrigued him. Had he not been certain that Geraldine Holbeach had been left twenty thousand pounds by her godmother Lady Furnley, he might have abandoned his quarry in favor of Miss Weston.
* * * *
Paul sat his horse, looking down at the foundry built on the outskirts of Yorkshire. He had arranged to meet Mr. Joseph Hanwell at a nearby tavern to discuss his findings before paying the owner of the foundry a little visit. As he had expected, Mr. Hanwell was every bit as outraged over the fraud as he. That the owner of this foundry could be persuaded to tell them what they needed to know was to be hoped.
Joseph Hanwell greeted him with a grim smile as he entered the tavern, which was a poor sort of place that smelled strongly of spilled ale and body odors. It looked in need of a thorough clean, but Paul had encountered worse during his campaigns abroad, and he ignored the stink of some of the worst customers as he joined the man he sought at a table in the corner. They shook hands and sat down over a tankard of ale, which both ignored.
“My news is not good, sir,” Hanwell said at once. “Stern’s foundry is undoubtedly the source of the shoddy work that killed your men. They were cast there and our mark forged in the metal. I knew the work as soon as I saw the cannon you withdrew and had shipped back to England as proof. Walter Stern once worked for me. I dismissed him for dishonesty and bad workmanship. However, I fear our quest has come to an unsatisfactory end.”
“Why? I believe I may persuade our friend to loosen his tongue one way or the other.” Paul frowned, his eyes icy cold, akin to a mountain stream, his mouth hard.
“Aye, I do not doubt it, sir,” Hanwell replied. “But unless you can raise a dead man from his grave, I fear his secrets remain lost.”
“Dead man? You are saying that the owner of the foundry is dead?”
“Yes, sir. This three weeks past.” Paul swore, furious at being thus frustrated, and Hanwell nodded his agreement. “Aye, curse away, captain. There has been foul play, and I believe we know who is behind it.”
“You think our man murdered Stern?”
“He leaves a widow. Mistress Judith Stern and their young son are left penniless. They know nothing except that he was anxious for a week or so before he was killed. Mistress Stern believes that he went to meet a customer the morning that he was beaten to death.”
“The devil he did!” Paul ejaculated. “It seems our man will stop at nothing to cover his tracks!” He hesitated, then, “Will Mistress Stern see me? I would not distress her at such a time, but I should like to speak with her. She believes that she knows nothing but she may recall something—a small detail that may help us.”
“I am sure that she will talk to you, sir. The foundry is in debt and must be sold. Her husband had been struggling to make it pay for some time. I imagine that is why he was persuaded to produce the faulty cannon, for not even his work was that shoddy as a rule.”
“He would have been vulnerable to a little bribery?” Paul smiled at him. “Yes, I believe you are right. I am indebted to you, Mr. Hanwell. You have done better than you imagine.”
Whoever had murdered Mrs Stern’s husband must be seriously rattled to stoop to such desperate measures. A desperate man always made mistakes, and when he did, Paul would be waiting.
Hester saw that Geraldine was distressed when they met again the next morning. She soon discovered the reason when her friend gave her a letter to read. Scanning it, she could not doubt that someone was determined to exert pressure on the girl.
“Are you sure you do not wish to show this to your mama?”
“She would send for Papa and he has been unwell,” Geraldine said looking pale and upset. “Either that or she would say that we must go home at once. We are here for another week and it would spoil things for everyone else. Lucinda could not stay if we left for her mother entrusted her to our care.”
&
nbsp; “Then shall we speak to Josh Farnham?” Hester said, wishing that Captain Crawford would return. “Or would you like me to speak to him? I mean Viscount Mortimer. I could make it clear that you wish for nothing to do with him.”
“Oh no, I could not ask it of you,” Geraldine said. “You are my friend, and I think he might try to harm you.”
“Then you must continue to ignore him and hope that Captain Crawford returns soon. I am sure that your cousin will know what to do.” She smiled reassuringly, though she was anxious for her friend because Mortimer might well choose Captain Crawford’s absence as the time to strike.
Hester decided that she would stay close to her friend at all times. Strangely enough, she had lost her own fear of Richard Mortimer through a desire to protect the young girl. He should not harm Geraldine if she could prevent it.
“Where are we going tomorrow?” she asked hoping to change the subject and lift Geraldine’s mood of apprehension.
“Lucinda wants to visit a ruined abbey she has heard of,” Geraldine said and summoned a smile. “And I think it will be quite amusing for it is said to be haunted, though I dare say we shall not see the ghost. If a party of us could go together, we might eat our luncheon al fresco. Mama says she shall come with us if we wish and perhaps Countess Danbury would care to accompany us?”
“Yes, I am sure Charlotte would be delighted,” Hester agreed at once. “We are invited to Lady Leominster’s card party this evening, but I think you do not go?”
“No, we have an invitation to Mrs. Beswick’s soiree. She is Mama’s very dear friend and we always attend her evenings.”
“Then we shall meet again tomorrow.”
Hester was thoughtful as she parted company with the younger girl. It distressed her to think that Richard Mortimer was hounding Geraldine. Even had he wished to marry her, he would make her unhappy for she needed someone kind and gentle to look after her. Yet, Hester could do little if Geraldine would not consent to speak of the situation to her mama or brother. However, she would remain watchful and do what she could to protect her friend if the need arose.
That afternoon she sat at home quietly with Charlotte and read one of the library books she had borrowed for unusually they had no engagements.
The evening passed swiftly for Hester. Soon after they arrived, Mr. Henry Blackwater sauntered into the salon. He greeted his hostess and a few friends and then gravitated to Hester side, begging her to be his partner at whisk. She accepted with pleasure and was kept entertained for the next few hours by his droll remarks and impudent looks. He had, he told her, taken a grand tour of Europe, and his descriptions of Italy were particularly interesting.
“We play well together,” he told Hester when everyone abandoned the tables in favor of supper. “You are an intelligent player, Miss Weston. It is as I expected for everything about you is quite perfect.”
Hester blushed at the extravagant compliment. “No, no, sir, you do me too much honor. I assure you, I am very ordinary.”
“Not in my eyes. You must know that I find you delightful company. Had I not known you would be here this evening I dare say I should not have bothered to attend, for they play for small stakes and I might find more exciting play elsewhere. But no card game would be as enjoyable as the evening I have spent in your company, Miss Weston.”
Hester did not know what to say. She was relieved when Charlotte came up to them but then a little dismayed as her cousin invited him to their outing the next morning. For some reason she could not quite determine, she did not want him to become an intimate friend.
“It will be a little dull for you, sir—but we need some more gentlemen in the party, for otherwise we shall be almost all ladies.”
“I shall be delighted to accompany you,” Henry said and kissed his fingers to her. “I cannot think I shall be dull in your company, ma’am—or Miss Weston’s.”
The look that passed between them and Charlotte's expression of satisfaction warned Hester that she imagined her scheme to find her a husband might be succeeding. It was not the case, however. Much as she enjoyed Henry Blackwater’s company, the idea that he might be forming affection for her was disconcerting. She was here to bear her cousin company and not to receive an offer of marriage. Her background would not endear her to Henry’s aunt if it was discovered, nor did she feel that she could confess her secret to him.
However, she concealed her dismay, for gentlemen like Henry often paid compliments to young ladies, and on reflection, she could not think that he was serious after such a short acquaintance.
After supper, convention obliged them to take different partners for the second round of cards, and Hester could only smile at Henry across the room as she and Charlotte left the salon just before eleven o’clock. Some of the guests continued to play until late into the night, but, as Charlotte said, “We shall not want to be late up in the morning or we shall be tired before the day has begun, Hester dearest. We shall enjoy our outing more if we get a good night’s sleep.”
Hester smiled and agreed, though privately she thought that she might not sleep as easily as her cousin that night.
In the end Hester slept well enough for she decided that it would be foolish to worry over something that might never happen. Mr. Blackwater was always teasing her. No doubt, his remarks had meant little but light flirtation, and even if he should ask leave to court her, Mrs. Weston would refuse her permission. Indeed, should he speak to her of his hopes, Hester would refuse as gently as she could.
That morning she dressed in a pale grey carriage gown with a pelisse of dark blue, a chip straw bonnet tied with ribbons to match her pelisse and black kid boots. Hester’s boots had only small heels and were intended for walking once they arrived at the ruins. She carried a small grey silk parasol and a little black-beaded reticule. When she met the others, she saw that Lucinda had chosen pretty grey leather shoes that matched her striped silk gown but were impractical for walking far. However, because Geraldine had also chosen sensible boots, the two of them would be able to explore quite happily.
The party set out in a little convoy of carriages, and the servants who would serve luncheon and look after them followed in the coach behind. Lucinda, Geraldine and Hester were in one open carriage with Mr. Farnham, while the older ladies travelled in a second; the other gentlemen accompanied the little cavalcade on horseback, riding on ahead sometimes and then returning to wave or mention some place of interest.
An hour before noon, they reached the ruins, feeling very warm. Charlotte and Lady Holbeach settled themselves on chairs the servants had set out for them in the shade of some trees while the younger members of the party set out to explore the exciting ruins.
The old stone walls had crumbled almost to the ground in places, but in others, a wall remained and there was a good part of the chapel left standing, but much overgrown with brambles. However, there was a brooding air about the chapel ruins that made Lucinda shiver and declare that they might see the spectre of the displaced monks at any time.
The party set out to explore, but Lucinda soon complained that the ground was too uneven and lagged behind with Mr. Farnham, perhaps to seize the chance for a secret kiss, Hester thought, smiling inwardly. The couple was so obviously happy and so much in love. However, she and Geraldine continued to explore the rest of the ruins with Mr. Blackwater and Mr. Jones as their escorts.
The countryside was very pretty, with lots of ancient trees, green meadows where sheep and horses grazed, and a tiny stream that meandered over a rocky bed. Hester felt a sense of peace as she wandered in the ancient chapel, thinking of the monks who had once worked and lived here thanking God for all they had.
Lucinda had soon had enough of exploring and called to them that it was time for lunch. Obediently, they all returned to where the servants had set up little tables and chairs so that they could have their alfresco meal in comfort.
It was a delicious meal consisting of cold chicken, ham, pasties, cheese and bread, together with a
selection of pickles and preserves, and washed down with a light sparkling wine. After their meal, the older ladies declared that they meant to rest and gossip to their hearts’ content.
However, the young members of the party had no such desires. Lucinda suggested that they should play a game of cricket, which the gentlemen greeted with enthusiasm. Geraldine and Hester joined in, but Geraldine was out first ball and wandered off in the direction of the ruins once more.
Hester took her turn at the bat and sent her ball deliberately high and short so Lucinda could catch it easily. She laughingly asked to be excused and, picking up her parasol, set off after Geraldine, who had disappeared from sight. She was not sure what had prompted her to follow, but as she entered the ruins, she blessed the intuition that had made her act as she had.
Geraldine was struggling in the unwelcome embrace of a ruffian. Hester was shocked and did not hesitate; rushing in with no thought of her own safety, she wielded her parasol to good effect, beating the man about his head and face as hard as she could.
“Let her go!” she demanded fiercely. “How dare you attack a lady, you wicked man?”
Her efforts with the parasol added to Geraldine’s own frantic struggle, causing the man to let go of his prey and to put a hand to his face to where Hester had drawn blood. He scowled at her but said nothing, backing away and then turning to make off in the opposite direction of which their friends could be heard playing cricket.
“Are you all right?” Hester asked, looking at her anxiously. “What was he trying to do to you?”
“I think he meant to abduct me,” Geraldine replied, looking pale and shaken. “He told me that he had a message from my brother and that I was to go with him at once. I was immediately suspicious, for I know that William would never send someone like that to fetch me. When I refused, that man tried to take hold of me. I think that if you had not come, he might have managed to drag me off.”
