She would beg him to look for Charlene, as a favor for her. That meant the only project left to her was Aldric’s case.
She frowned as she thought about it. She had managed to convince herself that if there was such strong evidence against her brother, then he must somehow be guilty of having poisoned Lord Henrich.
In light of Lord Ambrose’s actions, however, she wondered if that was truly the case. Was it possible that the chief investigator had created this whole case against her brother, in a desperate bid to blame someone and, in doing so, gain something for himself?
She wished that she had listened, before, when Charlene had insisted that her father was innocent and that they must prove that. She couldn’t talk to her niece about that now, but perhaps there was someone else.
She remembered the way Duke Cumberland had shown up at her doorstep looking for Charlene, the night that the young woman had disappeared. Perhaps he had known something about Aldric’s innocence. Perhaps he had discovered something.
If not, if he even had a hunch as to who might have really killed Lord Henrich, perhaps Helene could be of service. Her family’s reputation was in tatters, but she still had considerable influence in the city, plus money. And perhaps she would know some information that could help.
She pulled her hood over her head again. Oh, she didn’t mind if anyone remarked on her visit to the duke’s manor-home. She had nothing left to lose. Her worry was more that the duke’s reputation would be tarnished with a visit from her. She remembered the way they had talked after Charlene visited the man, after all.
The man had already jeopardized himself enough to help her family. Sometimes, she wondered what it was for.
Of course, she wasn’t a fool. The duke would never risk himself for nothing in return. He fancied her niece, Helene was certain of it. The trouble was that the two of them would never end up together. The ton would make certain of that.
The best that the two could hope for was that the duke would marry someone more befitting of his stature, and then he would take Charlene as a mistress.
Once, that thought would have horrified Helene. She wanted more for Charlene. She wanted the woman to have a family, not bastard children that she had to birth in secret. She wanted her niece to experience all the pleasures of a love that knew no bounds.
Yet now, she simply wanted to know that her niece was going to be taken care of. And if that meant birthing bastard children for a duke who had married someone else, then perhaps that was for the best.
Helene couldn’t help but feel that she had let the woman down. After all, it was her fault that her niece had to go into hiding in Whitechapel, of all places.
If Helene had really done her duty as the young woman’s guardian, then she would have put a stop to Lord Ambrose’s courtship before things had gone too far.
She felt sick just thinking about that now. She had counselled Charlene to accept the MMarquess’ hand in marriage. She had reminded her niece that she ought to do whatever she had to out of loyalty to her family.
That hadn’t been fair. The truth was that if Helene had done whatever it took to save her family, then… Well, then she wouldn’t be here alone now. She had left all the familial responsibilities to her brother, for all these years. And when she found out that her brother was up for trial, she had wondered if perhaps he deserved it.
The truth was, perhaps, that Helene had never forgiven Aldric for leaving her alone all those years prior. Helene had still been mourning their parents’ death, and Aldric’s newfound passion for medicine had been seen as a way of abandoning her.
It had never been that, Helene knew, and it wasn’t fair to blame Aldric for his passion. This might be the only chance she ever had to make things right between the two of them.
She had to find her niece. She had to prove Aldric’s innocence. She had to save them both.
She had to save them all, herself included.
She shifted uncomfortably outside the duke’s house. It seemed as though there was no one home. Or perhaps Duke Cumberland simply refused to see her. She stared up at the high windows, imagining she saw the twitch of a curtain in one of them.
They knew who she was, and they knew her reputation. They wanted nothing to do with her. They weren’t going to help her, and with Charlene gone, it would be impossible for Helene to discover the truth about any of these dark matters.
She felt sick to her stomach as she turned away from the door.
Just then, however, the door swung open behind her. “Lady Ellington,” the serving-man said quietly, his tone nervous. His eyes darted from side to side, and he licked his lips in agitation. “Come in.”
Helene frowned, but she would not refuse his offer. Immediately upon entering the hall, though, she turned to the man. “My Lord-Duke of Havenport?” she queried.
The man was silent for a moment, and it was clear that he wasn’t certain whether or not he should trust Helene. Then, he sighed. “The duke disappeared two days ago,” he admitted.
“What do you mean?” Helene asked, scandalized to hear it. First her niece, and now the duke?
Surely the two disappearances couldn’t have anything to do with one another. But there was a dark thought in the back of her mind.
If Aldric was innocent, then perhaps there was someone who was targeting the Ellington family. Someone like the Marquess. She felt cold dread inside her body. It would make a certain amount of sense.
Lord Ambrose would have known that Charlene would never give her hand to him in marriage. So he had come up with an offer that the young woman couldn’t refuse.
Only Charlene had refused him, even at the possibility that her father would be hanged.
That would only have amplified Lord Ambrose’s desires. What if Charlene hadn’t disappeared but had instead been kidnapped? Helene had never considered the possibility, and she now felt like a fool.
And Duke Cumberland? Had he gone after Charlene in an attempt to find her? Or was he a victim to the same plot?
If Helene had noticed the two youngsters’ attraction to one another, then she couldn’t be the only one. Perhaps Lord Ambrose knew exactly who was competing with him for a place in Charlene’s heart.
Perhaps even after kidnapping Charlene and holding her hostage, he hadn’t been able to win the young woman’s heart.
Charlene had always been stubborn. Helene had never been so proud of that fact as she was now.
Suddenly, though, she deflated. No, this couldn’t be right.
First, would she really accuse a chief investigator, a Marquess, of having kidnapped her niece?
Lord Ambrose was a cunning man, but surely he wouldn’t be that desperate to marry an aging spinster like Charlene, no matter if he couldn’t find anyone else who would overlook his reputation and marry him.
Moreover, if Charlene had been kidnapped, Lord Ambrose surely wouldn’t have allowed her to work for Miss Anne, or to find further work in Whitechapel.
Charlene had run off. Helene didn’t know what the duke’s disappearance could mean, but like as not, it had nothing to do with the disappearance of the young Ellington woman.
The duke’s servant ducked his head. “I’m sure Duke Cumberland will return shortly,” he said, and there was a fierce loyalty in his voice. As though he would have something to do about it if his lord didn’t return.
Helene was touched by that sense of loyalty. It seemed to be altogether too lacking in this current state of affairs in the city of London. There was no loyalty, and there was altogether too much corruption.
She suddenly longed to leave the place for good. She did not know where she would go, but if it was true that her family was doomed, then perhaps she would finally cut all the ties with this city.
Not that there would be any remaining ties to cut. With her family gone and her reputation in tatters, there would be nothing to keep her here. Nothing to keep her anywhere.
She couldn’t help but feel that the future was incredibly dismal. Sh
e sighed and nodded at the servant, flipping him a coin that she likely could ill afford with her family’s current state.
She didn’t say a word as she headed back towards her house. Out on the street, she pulled her shawl ever tighter around her shoulders, although it did nothing to ward off the chill that she felt in her heart.
Chapter 32
Miss Charlene Ellington
Charlene absolutely hated working late nights like this. The sun was down long before she was released from the apothecary. She knew that in this part of the city, she shouldn’t be out on her own. Yet she also did not have any way to avoid that consequence.
She pulled her hood down over her hair, hoping that no one would see her face. She wore a bulky cloak over her dress, and it was all that she could hope for others to mistake her for a male.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone following along behind her. She tried not to glance back over her shoulder. Even if there was no one following her, that would only invite someone to attack. That would but let them know that she felt vulnerable.
She hated feeling vulnerable.
Charlene thought back to when she was younger and collecting plants in Raven’s Hollow. Everyone had said that she was mad to go there on her own. But she had never been so scared of those woods.
It was men that she was afraid of, she decided. Not snakes or other monsters of the wood. Men killed so thoughtlessly. So easily. It was men who would kill her father, and it was men who had driven her away from everything that she had ever known, and it was men who would harm her now, if any harm were to come to her.
There was a quiet sound behind her, but every hair on her body suddenly stood on end. She couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder, certain that someone must be there.
And sure enough, there was someone. The man was cloaked and hooded, and Charlene could see nothing of his features.
But he was keeping pace with her, moving as she moved, and she was certain that it was no mistake. There was truly a reason that she felt she was being followed.
She was being followed.
She nearly stumbled as she sped up, but she managed to keep her balance. She could not keep from looking over her shoulder again, however. Was the man closer to her now?
Without thinking, she turned to the right and headed down an unfamiliar alleyway. Of course, now wasn’t the time to be exploring unfamiliar routes through this part of the city.
But at the same time, she couldn’t help thinking that this might be her only chance. If she could but lose the man, then perhaps she would be all right.
As she sped up, though, the man following her sped up as well. His hood fell back, or he allowed himself to be seen, and Charlene had to keep from gasping.
It was the same man as before, the one who had claimed that he worked in the apothecary.
Charlene swallowed hard and made another sharp turn, and then another. But all the while, the man continued to bear down on her.
She started to run, heedless of where she was going. She did not care, now, whether she ever returned to the apothecary. In fact, let her run clear out of London.
She hated that circumstances had brought her to this point, but she was coming to realize that there was nothing left in this city for her.
She fled along the darkened alleyways, sure that the man was simply playing with her. If he had wished to catch her, then he would have done so by now. Instead, it was as though the man was toying with her, as a cat plays with a mouse before finally devouring it.
Charlene hated to flee like a frightened little mouse. At the same time, she wasn’t sure what else to do.
She came to a place that she vaguely recognized and assessed, in that moment, that she had two choices: she could turn her steps towards her aunt’s house and hope that the reception was warm, or she could leave it all behind for good.
She could never bring this sort of trouble to Aunt Helene’s doorstep, however. Nor could she possibly ask Eric to help her with this situation.
She turned towards another abandoned alleyway. This time, however, she didn’t make it far before she tripped over a loose cobblestone. As she stumbled and struggled to regain her balance, her foot got twisted in the hem of her skirt.
She went down hard, the stones of the street driving the air from her lungs. She cried out as she scraped her palm across the rough rock, tearing the skin and causing stinging pain to course through her.
She scrabbled to her feet, but before she could continue to run, he was there.
He pressed her back against the wall. Charlene opened her mouth to scream, but he clapped a hand over her lips, refusing to allow her to do that.
As though there were any in this part of the city that would care to intervene. No one was going to help her. Her father had met a dreadful end, Charlene was certain, and this was the way that her end would come.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry. She wouldn’t allow him to see that. She refused to.
In vain, she tried to push him away from her, but he kept her penned into a corner. She lifted a hand and swatted at him, smiling viciously when her fingernails dragged along the man’s cheek. But the thin scratches that she left there would do nothing to save her.
“What do you want?” she asked the man, even though she was certain that she already knew. What did any man want from someone like her? She felt sickened at the very thought.
All those years of saving her purity to give to the right person, and it had all been in vain.
The man laughed harshly. “What do I want?” he asked. “Have you still not figured out who I am?”
Charlene shook her head uncertainly. She was sure that she had never seen this man before in her life. Perhaps he had her mistaken for someone else? Was there any way for her to prove that?
If he found out that he had the wrong woman, then perhaps he would let her go.
Charlene wished that she could truly believe that would be the case. Instead, she knew exactly what would happen if this brute of a man found that he had the wrong woman. He would kill her on the spot, without a second thought. After all, why keep alive a hostage that one does not require?
She felt sick at the thought that this might be her end. But she felt even sicker when the man finally admitted to who he was.
“My name is Harvey Parsons,” the man murmured. “You may remember me as Harvey Blake.”
Charlene felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. Harvey Blake.
He was the very man that Eric had been looking for. The very man that Eric was certain had something to do with her father’s incarceration.
Charlene swallowed hard, feeling faint. She had imagined a dozen terrible things that the man could do to her, but now she was afraid that everything she had imagined would fall short of what he actually wished to do to her. This man was a murderer, and he would stop at nothing to make her life hell.
She thought back to the young apprentice. She could barely remember him, to be honest. He hadn’t made much of an impression on her. She couldn’t remember why her father had released him from his employ. Perhaps she had never known.
Perhaps that was the key to convincing him to give up this vendetta.
“Harvey – Mr. Blake,” she tried, tears falling down her cheeks, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are or what you want with my family.”
Harvey laughed bitterly. “Yes, I suppose you probably don’t remember me at all, do you?” he asked angrily. “You were always too focused on being your father’s brightest apprentice, and on your coquettish games.”
Charlene shook her head. “I was never my father’s apprentice,” she insisted.
“He trained you in the medicinal arts,” Harvey snapped. “He should never have done that, but he did it anyway. Then when the medical college forced him to take an apprentice, he did everything in his power to sabotage me!”
His eyes gleamed evilly. “He’ll never be forced to accept another apprentice now, though. In
some ways, I’ve done him a favor.” He paused. “And I’ve done a favor to any other young men whose lives he would have ruined!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlene said desperately. “Please, Mr. Parsons. Just let me go!”
“No,” Harvey said simply. “Your father ruined my life. He had me banned from practicing my trade, and even that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to have me put in prison, all for doing nothing wrong.”
Charlene found that difficult to believe. Surely her father wouldn’t have tried to get Harvey sent to prison if the man hadn’t done anything wrong. But it was difficult to argue with him about this when she didn’t know the facts.
A Wicked Scandal For The Bluestocking (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 22
