The wrath shall fall down around the guilty. I shall not rest until all are punished, for the sins of the father are placed upon the child.
The Gracious One!
Suddenly, she realized she wasn’t alone. No sound. Just an awareness of his presence.
“Harriet?”
She looked up at her husband. She didn’t try to hide the letters. It would have been pointless. She bit her bottom lip, tilting her head to the side. “I know you said not to concern myself…that I wasn’t to worry, but I knew you were troubled. I had to know…”
“I suppose I was deluding myself that I could keep my concern from you.” Arthur sat beside her. He began picking up the letters spread across his bed. “You need to trust me. I won’t let anything happen to either you or Victoria.”
He laid the letters on top of the table and picked the letter she held out of her hand. He glanced over it. He shook his head. “My darling, you shouldn’t have.”
“I’m not made of glass, Arthur.” She sighed. “You should have told me.”
“Let’s not have a row,” he said. Reaching over, he touched her face. She couldn’t help but smile at his attempted diversion. He leaned over and kissed her. “I have a better way to spend our last hours before you leave.”
Oh, he had a way to make her forget everything else…but she couldn’t…not now.
“Arthur.” Her breath caught with his caress. “Arthur. I know…”
“Know what?” His lips trailed along her neck. Gently, she pressed her hands against his chest. With the greatest reluctance, he relented. “What do you know?”
“I know who is behind the scheme, or at least what it means.”
Arthur leaned back and looked at her. Darkly. Tensely. “It is not one of your visions?”
She frowned deeply. “No,” she answered. She reached over and held up the letter. “I didn’t need one to figure out what this is about. It is all this raving about vengeance. I have heard it before. This person is talking about the Furies from Greek mythology.
“You know—the ones who would go out and punish those who committed wrong doings against Society. In the books, if I remember correctly, the Furies were relentless and without mercy. Arthur…” Harriet paused. “The Furies were known to drive their victims mad.”
Arthur nodded, as if he now remembered the story. “Greek mythology? What has that got to do with us?”
“As I read, memories resurged. I remember all too clearly comments and…books. She was always mixing stories up. She never read them the right way. I would have to explain them to her.”
“Who? Harriet, who on earth are you talking about?”
“Bessie, Arthur. Bessie. I don’t know what part she has played in this scheme, but I can assure you she has played a part. She was always calling herself the Gracious One. It’s Bessie, Arthur.”
“Good Lord, Harriet. Bessie? It makes no sense. She hasn’t an intelligent thought in her head…”
His voice trailed off, as if reliving events in the past.
“She was always with Sophia. I remember when I went to your townhouse, Bessie was there.” Harriet paused. She cupped his face in her hands. “You asked me to trust you. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”
He nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore. Bessie was Sophia’s friend, her only friend at the end. Why, she was the last one to see her before her death...
“Bloody hell!” Arthur stood. “I should have suspected!”
“It is not your fault.” Harriet soothed him. “Like you, I doubt she is the mastermind behind the scheme, but perhaps she can lead us to the one who is.”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly. “This changes everything. I need to speak to Carlisle.”
Harriet watched him walk back over to the door. She called to him. “Arthur, as for my visions.” She waited until he turned back to her. “You will find Mr. Padgett’s body under the bridge. It seems when he fell, his coat caught on a spike of the bridge’s post. He got entangled and drowned.”
* * * *
Arthur did not arrive at his townhouse in London until long after midnight. He waited until he would be certain his brother would be home. Earlier in the day, he settled his family at the Duke of Torridge’s residence. Harriet hadn’t been the happiest at the arrangement, but it was the safest accommodation. He didn’t want her far from his side and certainly wasn’t allowing her to stay at his townhouse.
He could no longer deny that Harriet had information she shouldn’t have been privy to unless she had been told in some manner or another. He had no explanation for the knowledge she uttered. He refused to consider a supernatural force. He didn’t believe in such nonsense, but understood it all too well.
He had not grown up along the moorlands of the Devon shore, not far from Cornwall, without giving credence to the legends, fairies, witches, and ghosts. There was no doubt Harriet and he had been raised where stories of such creatures were rife.
His patience was tried to the extreme when Carlisle had accepted Harriet’s gift. Good Lord, at one time, he was the man who would have had her installed into an asylum. Now, his friend was her biggest ally. Finding Padgett’s body where Harriet had told him didn’t help the matter.
To Arthur, it mattered little whether or not his wife was gifted in a special way. It mattered that a madman, not a ghost, was after his family, bent on destroying what he held most dear.
Having given instructions to the butler to inform Ewan of his presence, Arthur entered into the study and poured himself a drink. He waited.
He turned his mind to his interview with Clark, his solicitor, reprimanding himself for not having asked the prevalent questions when he first discovered the deceit. He had been blinded at the time by rage. His sole mission had been to salvage his relationship with Harriet—which had failed miserably, leaving him trapped in a dark abyss.
He threw back his drink. His temper had not calmed by the time he heard the front door open. A moment later, his brother sauntered into the room. He threw his waistcoat over a high back chair and untied his cravat.
“Ah, Arthur, you have returned. You should have notified me. I would have had your room prepared,” Ewan said, heading for the decanter. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“It matters little, brother,” Arthur replied. “I am not staying. I came for only one purpose. Where is your wife?”
Ewan looked at Arthur in a peculiar manner and laughed. Pursing his lips, he shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. She left about a month ago. Haven’t seen or heard from her since and, mind you, I haven’t tried. Why the devil are you looking for Bessie? There was no love lost between the two of you.”
“Let us say that I have an interest in her activities.”
Ewan stared intently at Arthur. Taking his poured drink in hand, he sat across from his brother. “Then I would be the last person to ask. I have no knowledge of her actions. Furthermore, I have no interest myself. My wife is free to do what she will as long as it doesn’t include me.”
Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “Then we will start with that information. If you have no feelings toward the lady, why did you marry her?”
Ewan looked at Arthur with some cautiousness. “Why the sudden interest in Bessie? What has happened?”
“Why did you marry her?” Arthur pressed. “It is an easy question. Love… convenience…money? Come. There had to be a reason.”
“Grandfather arranged it, dear chap. You of all people can understand Grandfather.”
“Do not lie to me, Ewan. I have visited with Clark.”
“Then why ask me if you have all the answers?” Ewan shot back.
Arthur slammed down his fist, shaking the desk. “Don’t you dare be snip with me. I am not in the mood. Bessie has been found to be at the center of a conspiracy. Are you also? What part have you played?”
“Bloody hell! Conspiracy! Are you mad? Bessie?”
Arthur studied Ewan. The shock on his face seemed real, along wit
h riddled confusion. Arthur leaned back. “I have come to suspect that Bessie may be behind a plot to undermine our family, not only with Sophia’s care, but I fear she had dealings with a man who abducted my daughter. A Padgett fellow.”
Ewan turned red. “I don’t understand…your daughter?”
“I will not mince words with you. I have married again. Harriet. She has a young daughter, not quite four years of age. She was abducted about a month ago. Thankfully, she was rescued. Afterwards, we found letters that implicate Bessie with the assailant. Do you know a Benjamin Padgett?”
Arthur’s voice resonated in the room, vibrating to the core of his brother. “Do not play with me, Ewan,” Arthur said in a firm and dangerous voice. “I know it was you who went to Grandfather for permission to marry Bessie, not the other way around as you have led me to believe.”
Ewan’s expression shattered. “A child? Bessie was set to hurt a child?”
“My child, brother. My child. Your niece!”
“I know nothing about an abduction. Nothing!” Ewan shook his head. “I’ve hated myself since I agreed to this marriage. You can’t abhor me more than I abhor myself. You’re right. I did go to Grandfather. I did it for the money.”
“Harriet’s money?”
Ewan wiped his sweating forehead with his handkerchief. “It seemed all so simple. After Harriet ran off, Bessie came to me with this wild scheme. She said it would ‘make all right in the world. As it should have been.’ She talked such nonsense, but when she mentioned that Harriet’s inheritance would now be hers, I began to take her proposition seriously.
“You would not understand, being the heir apparent. I have always been the spare heir. In the shadows. You would not know what it is like to be a second son. Do not make me out to be some kind of monster. I did nothing to cheat Harriet out of her inheritance.
“From my understanding, it was forfeited by some means. I suppose I did not want to know the reason. I wanted only to know it went with Bessie at our marriage. Make no mistake about it, though, Arthur. Grandfather wasn’t against the arrangement.”
“So both sides plotted against Harriet. Did you ever think about Harriet? What happened to her?”
“I assumed she was safe and cared for. Why would I not? Grandfather wished her no harm, only that she not be part of our family. He agreed to my marriage without hesitation and thought it for the best.”
“Not only to destroy Harriet’s life, but to steal her money? I thought I well knew you both!” Arthur shouted. “Not only Harriet’s, but my life! You are my brother!”
Ewan cast down his eyes. His face flushed. “It wasn’t like that. Sophia loved you. I, too, thought it for the best, or at least I tried to convince myself. When Bessie told me that Harriet had come to the townhouse, I realized my mistake, but I couldn’t undo what had already been done.”
“So you did nothing?”
“I distanced myself from the whole mess.”
Arthur took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His anger spent, he asked, “Then now tell me, do you have any knowledge of what Bessie has in store? Have you had any knowledge of her wrongdoings?”
Ewan looked up at Arthur. “She’s mad and loony. I don’t believe she has a rational thought in her head. I have long since not paid any mind to her ramblings, but this man you mentioned…this Padgett fellow. I remember him, if he is the same person.”
“When?”
“A couple of years ago, during the start of the Season. I arrived home to find this gentleman had escorted Bessie home from a dinner. I found them in the study in a deep conversation. I thought it strange as I hadn't even known Bessie had returned to London. I had thought she was with Sophia at Ayercombe Manor. Instead, here she was with this man." Ewan laughed under his breath. "It was the first time it occurred to me that my wife might have found a lover."
"Padgett was Bessie's lover?"
"No, no. It was my first thought, not that I would have cared, but she brought him into our home. So I had looked into the situation."
"And what exactly did you find out?"
Ewan grimaced and sat down his glass. He looked up at his brother. “I will tell you everything I know.”
Chapter Twelve
Five days had passed since Harriet’s arrival in London. Despite her apprehension, she and her daughter had been made most welcome in the Duke of Torridge’s home. The house still mourned the loss of their daughter, leaving their social interaction limited, which suited Harriet’s needs.
This morning, she breakfasted with Lady Torridge and Aunt Eleanor. Her appetite was spoiled by her concern about Arthur. She had seen him little since coming to London. His mind seemed to be preoccupied. He had not talked again about her visions and she suspected he would not.
“I find your daughter quite delightful,” Lady Torridge said, bringing Harriet into her conversation. “A much-needed breath of fresh air in our home.”
“I hope she hasn’t been an inconvenience to you, Your Grace. She has been quite spoiled in Danbe Dale,” Harriet said. “She can be relentless in her pursuits.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I have planned an activity for Victoria this morning…if you allow.” Lady Torridge sat her fork down. For the first time since their introduction, her ladyship smiled. “Eleanor and I have talked in great detail about the incident surrounding Victoria. Also, with the knowledge she has left everything she has known, I thought…”
Lady Torridge paused with emotion. Aunt Eleanor reached across the table and took her old friend’s hand in hers. “As Victoria seems to enjoy Katherine’s dogs so much and Arthur has said he himself intends upon her having one, we considered taking Victoria to the park. Lady Smythe has a litter of corgis that are ready to be weaned.”
Lady Torridge sniffled and nodded. “I have sent a note to Lady Smythe. She says she has a couple of puppies that would be perfect for a child of Victoria’s age. She would be able to play with them and hopefully pick one out.”
The gift was unexpected. Harriet was touched at Lady Torridge’s compassion. How difficult it must be to lose your only child, though Harriet worried about her own child.
“You need not be concerned with Victoria’s safety. Two of my most trusted footmen will accompany the ladies. I will also, if you deem it necessary.”
Harriet looked up to see His Grace enter the breakfast room. Sitting at the head of the table, he acknowledged the ladies’ presence. Then he turned to Harriet. She saw instantly the importance of this venture to his wife in his eyes.
“Your generosity has overwhelmed me, Your Grace. I do not believe Arthur would object. Though, I could not ask you to be inconvenienced with a puppy here.”
“Oh, I have made the necessary arrangements,” Lady Torridge said hastily. “It would give me great joy to see her little face light up. She does so have the look of Georgiana when she smiles.”
“Georgiana?” Harriet asked. “My mother?”
Lady Torridge’s startled expression did not go unnoticed by Harriet. It became quite obvious Her Grace had not intended to let the name slip. A deep sadness swept across the woman’s face, a melancholy that all too quickly encompassed her being.
“Your Grace, you knew my mother?” Harriet’s voice softened. “You will have to excuse my curiosity, but I have not met many who knew my mother and fewer who have talked of her. Pardon me, but you said her name with affection.”
Lady Torridge’s composure wavered. She collected herself and looked straight at Harriet, ignoring her husband’s gaze. “Yes, I knew Georgiana. Of course, she was Georgiana Tyndale at the time. I met her on a stroll in the park. It was before my marriage. I was only a young girl with dreams about when it would be my turn for a Season.
“I had come to London with my parents and my older sister for her debut into Society. I couldn’t participate. I had to wait my turn. Georgiana lived here in London most of the year. Her father was a prominent businessman, in the coal business if I’m not mistaken. It was during this
time Georgiana and I struck up a friendship. She became a dear friend.”
“Truly? I did not know, but there is much I don’t know about her. How did you meet? Did she live near? Did you know her parents? Have you heard from her since she left England?” Harriet hadn’t meant to press. She had never realized the hurt that lived inside her for the mother she didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Lady Daneford.” Lady Torridge hesitated. “I lost touch with your mother before her marriage. I thought perchance I would have heard something when she left England, but nothing, I’m afraid.
“It is a shame that you did not know Priscilla, Arthur’s mother. I believe your mother and Priscilla became close after Georgiana moved to Beebe Manor. It was understandable, truly. They lived so close. The last time I saw Georgiana was at Ayercombe Manor with Priscilla.”
“Katherine, it seems that Lady Daneford has no objections to the puppy," His Grace said. He looked straight at Harriet, conveying the need for the conversation on her mother to end. "I will call for the carriage. I believe the little one will enjoy an open carriage ride, as will you.”
Harriet sat back and absorbed the information. His Grace may have diverted the others’ attention from her mother, but he had done little to quench her curiosity about her mother. She came to the conclusion that her grandparents, the ones she had never seen, may well still live in London...
* * * *
Harriet walked silently down the street, trying to think. She had left shortly after Lady Torridge, Aunt Eleanor, and Victoria departed for the park. Victoria seemed in her element with the attention she garnered. Harriet smiled at the sight of Victoria holding onto Lady Torridge’s hand, walking down the steps to the waiting carriage.
At least for the moment, Harriet wasn’t concerned with Victoria’s welfare. Her attention was drawn to the mention of her mother. She thought of talking to Arthur, but he had risen early, leaving only a note stating he would be occupied the rest of the day with his brother.
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