Death of a Duchess

by Nellie H. Steele

  Ella glanced over the book’s top. “Will you add Samuel now?”

  “No, not until the christening. Then he shall be added. I glanced at the tree, noting the addition of my name joined with Robert. The cross next to Annie’s name did not escape me. No other names were shown in or after Robert’s generation.

  I followed the tree up, checking for female ancestors.

  “What are you searching for, Your Grace?” Ella questioned.

  “Female children who died at a young age.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “When I fell from my horse earlier, I saw a child playing on the stream’s bank. Annie must have shown her to me for a reason. Why? Who was she?”

  “Annie?” Ella inquired, her face paling.

  “Yes,” I answered. “Annie spooked the horse and sent us on that wild race across the grounds. She also appeared at the stream.”

  Ella’s eyes were wide as I disclosed the detail. “Your Grace! She is attempting to harm you! If she sent your horse into a frenzy, she intended to cause you harm!”

  I considered her statement. This marked the second occasion on which Annie’s actions caused me harm. Yet I remained steadfast in my conviction that she did not intend to injure me. “I disagree,” I answered and returned to perusing the family tree.

  “Your Grace!” Ella objected.

  I set the Bible on my lap. “She is communicating. If she was attempting to harm me, she could have done it a dozen different ways by now.”

  “Communicating? Can she not speak?”

  “She has not spoken yet,” I responded. “She may lack the ability due to her traumatic end.”

  “But… you spoke with Samuel’s mother. She spoke.”

  “Yes, she did,” I confirmed. “But Tilly and I were good friends. And Tilly’s death was far less violent. Tilly’s circumstances were entirely different.”

  Ella shook her head. “It is all so complicated.”

  “It can be. Which is why we must keep at it. Who was this child and what has she to do with Annie? Why did Annie insist I see her?”

  Ella leaned over the book to study the family tree. “Are there any children listed who match your vision?”

  I shook my head. “No, I do not see anyone.”

  “Here,” Ella said, “what about Fiona?”

  “No. The dates listed make her eleven, far too old to have been the child I saw.”

  I snapped the Bible shut with a sigh. “No, there is no one listed here who died at that age.”

  Ella’s shoulders sagged. “I am sorry, Your Grace.”

  “Do not be. This has helped.”

  “Helped? You have made no progress.”

  “That is where you are incorrect, Sinclair! The progress I have made is ruling out other female relatives. No female Fletcher child died at that age. So, it is not an ancestor of the Fletchers. Of course, it could be a servant’s child. Though there is no reason for Annie to want to call my attention to her.”

  My mood turned pensive as I considered the information. Ella frowned as she processed my comments. Her forehead wrinkled as she, too, sought to contribute an idea. “Sinclair,” I suggested. “Would you summon Buchanan? Perhaps he can shed some light on any children on the estate in Annie’s time.”

  “At once, Your Grace,” Ella declared, leaping from the bed. She hurried from the room in search of Buchanan.

  “Annie? Annie, are you there?” I called to the empty room.

  Annie did not appear. I waited for someone, alive or dead, to appear. I drummed my fingers on my opposite arm, the toes on my good leg tapping the air. Oh, to be able to walk, I lamented, frustrated by my inability to move.

  Several minutes passed before my bedroom door swung open. Ella entered with Buchanan. “Miss Sinclair said you requested to speak with me, Your Grace?”

  “Yes, Buchanan. I hoped to ask you about a delicate matter.” Buchanan’s eyes slid sideways toward Ella before glancing back to me. “You may speak in earnest in front of the both of us,” I said. “Sinclair understands any information relayed here is to remain only between us.”

  Buchanan nodded in understanding. “Of course, Your Grace. What is the nature of your inquiry?”

  “Are you aware of any female children, around the age of three, who passed away on the estate in recent years?”

  Buchanan’s thick brows furrowed, and he frowned, glancing at the floor. “Children?” his deep voice pondered aloud. After a moment, he shook his head and pursed his lips. “No. There haven’t been any children on the estate in many years. The last children were His Grace and Mr. Fletcher!”

  “No servants had any children? Please do not suppress any information for fear of appearances. The information shall go nowhere.”

  “Certainly not!” Buchanan assured me. “I have served in the household for many years, starting as a footman for His Grace’s parents and working toward my current position. In that time there have been no scandals. A tight rein was kept on this household! There was no funny business tolerated under this roof!” Buchanan raised his eyebrows, wagging his finger in the air.

  “I understand. And I am certain Duke Blackmoore appreciates your vigor in the matter. Thank you.”

  “Is there anything else I can be of assistance with, Your Grace?”

  I considered the matter for a moment. I began to shake my head when an idea occurred to me. I glanced up at Buchanan. “Yes. Was the former Mrs. Fletcher ever with child?”

  “No,” Buchanan answered. “There were no children.”

  “And no pregnancies?”

  Buchanan shook his head. “No, Your Grace.”

  My brow crinkled at the answer. Another dead-end. I nodded. “Thank you, Buchanan. I am sorry to have disturbed your day. And I appreciate your discretion in not mentioning this conversation beyond us.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Buchanan bowed his head to me before departing.

  Ella sunk onto the bed next to me. “Another dead end,” I lamented.

  “I am sorry, Your Grace.”

  “I suppose the next move is Annie’s. Now, we wait.”

  Chapter 21

  My ankle kept me abed for two days. Frustration grew in me as I sat unable to pursue any additional information. Though, I had no idea what information I would seek even if I was able. After three days, I could bear some weight on the ankle, though I remained cautious. I kept to my room, unwilling to traverse the long castle halls or climb the stairs to my tower room.

  The books Ella brought kept me busy and, despite Nanny Browne’s objections, I spent a large amount of time with Samuel. On the afternoon of the third day, I reclined on my bed with Samuel. His fingers wrapped around one of mine as I cooed at him. Tilly’s blue scarf lay next to us. I kept it close to Samuel, insisting it adorn his crib regardless of Nanny’s objections. I grabbed it and held it over my face before pulling it away in a game of peekaboo.

  A knock sounded on the door and Ella entered when I called. “Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy, “Mr. Fletcher is downstairs requesting to see you.”

  “Edwin?” I questioned with a frown.

  Ella nodded. “Should I make your excuses, Your Grace?”

  “No, I had better take his call. I do not wish to cause any further strife within the family.”

  “But your ankle! Can you manage a walk to the sitting room?”

  I pushed myself up to sitting. “No,” I admitted. “No, you are correct, I do not believe I should. Perhaps you had better offer my apologies.”

  “I shall pass it along to Mr. Buchanan.”

  I returned to fussing over Samuel. My mind dwelled on the repercussions of refusing to speak with Edwin. I hoped it caused no issues.

  “I hope your uncle does not take this personally,” I said to Samuel. “He can be quite melodramatic.”

  Samuel’s blue eyes stared up at me as I spoke. I smiled down at him. A ruckus in the hall drew my attention from my child. Loud voices conversed for a moment before my door bur
st open.

  “… most objectionable, sir!” Buchanan said, following Edwin through the door.

  Edwin waved his hands at Buchanan. “I am her brother-in-law. I assure you there is nothing untoward. Besides, Miss Sinclair can chaperone.” He grinned and winked at Ella who stood, her mouth hanging open in shock at the turn of events.

  “Edwin!” said I. “What a surprise. Thank you, Buchanan, you may go.”

  Buchanan glanced between me and Edwin before turning on his heel with a huff and exiting.

  “Lenora. When Buchanan said you were under the weather and abed, I took it upon myself to visit you here. I do hope it is not a problem. I have a gift for my nephew!” He waved a wrapped item in the air.

  “How kind of you,” I answered. “I am sorry I was unable to take your call elsewhere. I am still unable to bear much weight on my ankle.”

  “Yes, terrible shame. And on your first outing with the horses. I hope it hasn’t put you off riding entirely.”

  “Not at all,” I assured him. “I do hope to try my hand again at it soon. I found it enjoyable.” Edwin smiled at me. “You said you had a gift?” I prompted.

  “Oh, yes!” Edwin exclaimed, passing the wrapped item to me.

  “Again, how kind.” I unwrapped it, finding a model ship in the package. “A ship!” I admired the item, turning it around in my hands.

  “Yes!” Edwin exclaimed. “I had one like it when I was a boy. I enjoyed it in the nursery on many occasions!”

  “How lovely. I am certain Samuel will enjoy it.”

  “I see the little chap is here rather than in the nursery,” Edwin commented. “You are quite the hands-on mother.” I nodded. “When Robert and I were children, we saw Mum for one hour per day, no more!”

  “Yes, my methods are unorthodox, I realize, and quite distressing to Nanny Browne.”

  Edwin chuckled. He approached the bed, staring down at the child. “Such bright blue eyes!” he commented.

  “Yes, I wonder if they will remain. I do hope so. They remind me so much of Tilly’s.”

  “Tilly?” Edwin questioned.

  “Yes, his mother,” I responded. “Her name was Tilly.” A crease formed in Edwin’s forehead and his eyebrows pinched together. I continued, picking up Tilly’s scarf, “She would have made a loving mother. This is her scarf. I brought it with me when I took Samuel. I try to keep it close to him. Silly, really, I suppose, but I feel he’s comforted by it.”

  “That is her scarf?” he inquired.

  I smiled down at it. “Yes,” I answered, fondling it. “I understand she cherished it while alive.”

  Edwin stalked a few steps from the bed, his finger pressed to his lips. “Edwin?” I questioned.

  He spun on his heel to face me. “Oh, yes.” He waved his hand in the air. “Forgive my pensiveness. It is such a fascinating story. And you said… ah… Tessa, was it?”

  “Tilly,” I corrected.

  “Ah, yes, Tilly. Tilly was a friend?”

  “Yes. We spent several years together at St. Mary’s.”

  “St. Mary’s?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “The orphanage where we resided.”

  Edwin pursed his lips. “And she remained there after you came to Blackmoore?”

  “No,” I answered. “She left the orphanage several months before I did.”

  The crease in Edwin’s forehead deepened. “I see,” he answered, rubbing his chin.

  His reaction puzzled me. His interest seemed odd, though perhaps he hoped his curiosity would be taken as polite. Edwin’s gaze fell on Samuel. Several moments of silence passed between us before Edwin changed the subject.

  “And how is your other project going, sister-in-law? Making any progress in your exploration of Annie’s untimely demise?”

  I waved the scarf over my face, peeking at Samuel as Edwin spoke. “Very little, I’m afraid,” I responded, glancing to him.

  “A pity. I realize how important the project is to you. Though as I mentioned when we last spoke, it is undoubtedly for the best.”

  “And as I mentioned when we last spoke, I disagree.”

  “So, Annie has not appeared further to you? No additional information?”

  I stopped playing with Samuel to gaze at Edwin. I hoped my survey of him may provide some subtle hint regarding his inquiry. It did not. “No additional information,” I responded, deliberately evading his question about Annie’s appearances.

  “Perhaps it is time to abandon the pursuit.”

  My eyes narrowed at Edwin. What was his motive? “That seems premature,” I said. “I have only begun to make progress.”

  “Some things are best left alone, Lenora,” Edwin responded, his gray eyes set upon me.

  He seemed insistent that I cease in my search for answers. I did not wish to start an argument, yet I had no intention of backing down. As I pondered my response, the door swung open and Robert entered.

  “Edwin,” he said. “What in heaven’s name…”

  I interrupted his statement, recognizing the temper rising in his voice. “He brought a gift for Samuel. A ship!” I exclaimed, holding up the object. Robert’s gaze flicked between us. “Is it not handsome? I am certain Samuel will be keen on it. Very thoughtful.”

  “Oh…” Robert paused, his forehead wrinkling. A slight smile crossed his lips, and he approached the bed, taking the ship from me. “Quite, yes.” He studied it, turning it round in his hands.

  “We had one similar…” Edwin began.

  “When we were in the nursery, yes,” Robert finished, his smile growing. “I remember it.” He returned his gaze to the ship.

  “I always admired it,” Edwin replied. “It was one of my favorite toys. I thought it fitting to buy him one. I hope it shall provide him with the same entertainment it provided me.”

  “I am certain he will treasure it,” I answered, catching Robert’s gaze. I gave him a slight nod and smiled broadly at Edwin.

  “Yes,” Robert agreed. “Very gracious of you.”

  “Well, I am the boy’s uncle. It is my duty to add to his spoiling,” Edwin said with a grin.

  Robert gave a tight-lipped smile and a nod. The tension between them remained, though the gift seemed to ease some of it. “I shall place it in the nursery myself,” Robert assured him. “In the same spot as where ours sat all those years ago.”

  Edwin nodded. A moment of silence fell over the room before Edwin spoke again. “Lenora appears quite an engaged mother. Very dissimilar to our mother.”

  Robert glanced to Samuel and me on the bed. “Yes,” he agreed. “She has an obvious affection for the child.”

  “How admirable, given the unique way he came to you.”

  “Lenora is a very special woman, as I have mentioned.”

  “His mother…” Edwin began, testing the waters. “Was…”

  “His mother,” Robert interrupted, “is of no concern to anyone.”

  “Oh, I did not mean any disrespect. I merely am trying to understand the scenario to its fullest.”

  “The poor woman is dead,” Robert answered. “Let us leave it at that.”

  “Of course,” Edwin said, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “Might I offer you some tea?” I chimed in.

  “Oh, no, please,” Edwin replied, waving his hand at me. “I have interrupted your recovery long enough. Though, Robert, there is a spot of business I hoped to discuss with you. Do you have some time?”

  “Of course. We can speak in my study. I prefer not to hinder Lenora’s rest with the bore of business.”

  “Certainly. Lenora,” Edwin said, nodding his head to me, “I wish you the best with your recovery. I hope to see you on your feet again, soon.”

  “Thank you, Edwin.”

  Robert tucked Samuel’s ship under his arm, intent on delivering it to the nursery. He kissed me on the forehead before directing Edwin from the room to conduct their business.

  I settled back on my bed, drawing Samuel into my arms. The
crease in my forehead deepened as I considered the conversation that had just transpired. Ella, who had taken a seat on my chaise during my visit with Edwin, stood to depart.

  “Did that seem odd to you?” I questioned before she reached the door.

  She stopped, turning to face me. “The gift? A ship seems fitting for a boy,” she answered with a shrug.

  “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “Not the ship. His interest in my progress with Annie.”

  Ella’s brow crinkled. “Perhaps he was attempting to be polite.”

  “This is the second time he has asked about my progress. And the second time he insisted I abandon the gambit.”

  Ella held her arms out to her sides, adding another shrug. “I cannot imagine any other reason for his interest.”

  After a moment, I replied. “No, neither can I, though his interest seems more than casual.”

  “I am afraid I can offer no insight,” Ella responded.

  I glanced up to her. She shifted from one foot to the other, unsure as to what to provide as a response. I shook my head at her. “No, I do not expect so. I am quite at a loss, as well. Well, I shan’t hold you back any further, Sinclair.”

  “It is no trouble, Your Grace. Shall I fetch Nanny to take Samuel for his afternoon feeding and nap?”

  I stared down at the child in my arms. I did not wish to let him go, but the hour was growing late. “Yes,” I said with a sigh. “I suppose I must give him up for his feeding and nap.”

  Ella smiled at me. “I find it charming how fervently you care for him.”

  I returned her smile. “Unorthodox, but then my life has never been normal. Why begin now?”

  “There is nothing abnormal about you, Your Grace. I shall return with your dinner later.” With that, Ella exited the room. In short order, Nanny Browne retrieved Samuel.

  Left to my own devices, I retrieved my book from the night table. As I read, my interest drifted from the words on the page to the elusive Annie and eventually to Edwin’s interest in the matter. Why did he insist on advising me against pursuing the truth?

  I drifted to sleep asking myself that very question. When I awoke, the skies were already darkening. Swaths of red and purple cut through the sky outside my window. I yawned and stretched, wondering how late I had napped. I hoped it had not grown too late, though Ella should have had the good sense to wake me.