In that exact moment, someone behind them cleared his throat. It was but a quiet sound, discreetly and undoubtedly from a man accustomed to making his presence known in this understated manner.
Never before had Minerva been so happy to see Johnson’s face. The grip around her arm loosened almost unnoticeably, but her brother-in-law still held her tightly.
“May I be of assistance, my Lady? Sir?” His deep rumbling voice felt like a rescue rope that he had thrown to a drowning Minerva. The confines of her world widened a little, and she was able to breathe again.
“Thank you, Johnson. I felt a little dizzy,” she replied, with as much dignity as she could muster at this point. She hoped that Thomas would believe that her indisposition stemmed from her delicate state, and not from her fear of him.
“Would you prefer to lie down?” Thomas asked her, and his face seemed to have lost some of its paleness. Was her mind playing tricks on her, or did he look guilty?
“No,” Minerva replied and smiled at him, but obviously not very convincingly, because he narrowed his eyebrows. At that moment, the resemblance to his brother was uncanny. He was a more slender, younger version of the man whom she had promised to marry, and maybe he was also a slightly more vulnerable version. Her heart tightened painfully, when she realised that she was about to lure him into a trap.
With all the strength left, she reminded herself of the danger she had just escaped (and probably was still in). This man did not deserve her sympathy. He had pushed his own sister-in-law down the stairs, and he had tried to poison her own mother. He would not hesitate to push… the same fate upon her. “I am in need of some fresh air,” she whispered. Then a little louder: “Johnson, please ask Sally to bring me down my coat, hat, and gloves. I would like to take a short walk through the forest. I am sure I will feel better afterwards.”
“My Lady, you should not walk these grounds alone,” Johnson objected. “Please allow me to accompany you.” She looked at him sternly, but Johnson did not flinch at all.
“No, thank you, I said I wanted to be alone,” she repeated, craned out her chin and started to descend the stairs carefully, but with shaking knees. “I am sure, Lord Beaufort will be happy to accompany me,” she added and gazed back up at her future brother-in-law with, what she hoped, was a complicit look. Minerva did not have the slightest inclination of trudging through the forest in the late autumn cold, but if there was no other way – well, what had one of her tutors always said? The end justifies the means. Although this was only ever mentioned in connection to the desirable status of a married woman, the statement remained true – all the more so, as she had a noble cause, which would ultimately bring her husband well-deserved peace of mind.
“Well, of course,” Lord Beaufort murmured, even though he didn’t really seem particularly excited about the idea. Johnson gave her a last look from the landing and withdrew, undoubtedly, to notify Sally. “Are you sure that you wouldn’t much rather be in the company of my wife?” It was his last meagre attempt to get away from her presence, but Minerva linked her arm under his, determined to not let him escape so easily.
Not ten minutes later, she and her brother-in-law were outside in the park. She took a deep breath. Now that they were alone, she could think about how to apply the next step: persuade him to a secret meeting.
Then she realised that they were alone already. Her future husband was not exactly hiding somewhere nearby, but instead he was inside the house, trying to distract Lady Beaufort. Dammit! Why did the events not follow the plan that she and Robert had set so carefully?
Robert had warned her. “The best plans have a tendency not to work out,” he had said to her, and by the way he had pulled his mouth into a thin line, he had been close to excluding her from it. It had been a wise decision to tell Lady Beaufort that she was pregnant – without this aspect, which put the duke under pressure, she would never have managed to convince him to let her help.
“Tell me something about Julianna,” she heard herself say. “Sometimes I feel so incredibly close to her, Thomas. She must have been a brilliant mind. Your wife told me that she was also writing a book. Is that correct?”
At first, he didn’t answer her. “She was a wonderful person,” he said in a strangled voice. Minerva glanced up at him from below and quickly looked away again.
“Julianna was… like a beacon in a dark night. She had a gift of making someone else’s life bearable, even when you were completely lost.”
“I wish I could have met her,” she said quietly when Thomas paused.
She had purposefully taken the narrower path that led from Beaufort to the pavilion, where she and Robert had had their first encounter. Thomas seemed to be becoming more and more restless, at her side. He continually glanced back over his shoulder, as if he felt someone was following him.
“Is everything all right with you?” she enquired.
“Yes, it is just that… this path is leading us to Julianna’s favourite place,” he replied. “I… do not know… but I find the place eerie.” Minerva pushed him gently onwards, ignoring his obvious reluctance.
“Why so? Do you believe her spirit haunts the site?” She purposefully spoke with a light-hearted, almost joking voice. He glanced at her suspiciously. Minerva noticed that his forehead was covered in tiny beads of sweat, and once more, pity for this weak, lost man threatened to overcome her.
“Well, it is possible, don’t you think?” His voice sounded stifled. “Do you believe that the souls of the dead show themselves to those responsible for their death, sister-in-law?”
“I do not really know,” she said after a moment of reflection, avoiding a branch that reached far into the path. Her feet were cold. As always, she had thought about everything, but not to put on the right shoes for her trip to the wilderness. Her blue slippers would probably be ruined after the walk.
“When I found the pavilion for the first time, I wanted to hide from my aunt and uncle, to work on my story in peace,” she told him with a smile, which he reciprocated hesitantly. “Even before I met Robert for the first time, I thought that I had sensed a presence there. Something that you cannot put into words, but still feel clearly. It was a woman, of that I am certain.”
The derelict building came into view. Her future brother-in-law stopped abruptly and moaned quietly at the sight of the small pavilion. In the cold light of the early morning, the signs of neglect were all the more visible.
“My aunt later told me that the people around here speak of a crying woman who haunts this place; it is said that it is the first Duchess of Scuffold. I assume that you are aware that they suspect your brother of her murder?”
She did not think it was possible, but his face turned even paler.
Minerva released her grip on his arm and stepped into the pavilion, whilst he stood outside as if his shoes had grown roots there. She hardened her heart against his obviously deep desperation, and after a moment of inspiration, she added, “I do not believe that Robert is the one behind her murder.”
Their eyes met across the short distance. For a moment, she thought that she had gone too far, for his eyes were completely empty as he stepped closer.
Now, it was only the rotten wood of the floor that separated them from each other. Minerva thought that she heard a shout, and then there was the sound of something or someone making their way through the woods in great haste.
“It was you, was it not?”
Thomas awoke from his stupor and raised his hands in a gesture that could have meant anything – surrender, relief, or the desire to silence the person who knew his secrets, forever. “God help me, but you are right. I am as much responsible for her death, as if I had killed her with my own bare hands.” His face seemed to fall apart under the sudden wave of emotions that overcame him. Even before Minerva was able to make sense of his strange choice of words, she saw tears pouring down his face.
“You have to understand,” he said desperately, seeming far away in thought. “I l
iked Julianna a great deal. She was… like me, in a way.” He was now sobbing openly. “There was a true artist hiding inside of Julianna, and when Robert forbade her to write, she became ill.” His words poured out in jerking gasps, and Minerva did not dare to disrupt his speech. “She was unable to sleep, unable to eat. So I introduced her to opium.”
With shaking hands, he wiped away his tears.
“You have no idea just how guilty I felt, when they had found her dead. I immediately knew that she had lost her balance in the opium rush and fell to her death… and I had believed that I was helping her.”
Minerva did not understand how he – of all people – who was trapped in the claws of his opium addiction, had believed that he could help Julianna with it, but that had probably been part of his twisted view. However, what she saw on his face was torment that she didn’t even wish on her worst enemy. She held her hands out to him, no longer able to suppress the feeling of empathy towards him.
An explosion disrupted the air. From somewhere in the distance, smoke rose. Thomas’s face took on a strange look that she could not understand. Only when she saw his shoulder starting to turn red and Robert came rushing towards them, face pale and tense, did Minerva understand what had happened.
The duke had shot his brother.
Thomas sank to the ground, strangely gracious in the way he fell. Robert was with her instantly, pulling her into his arms and covering her face with kisses as he took turns swearing and reassuring her that he loved her. The next second, he pushed her away from him and searched her body for any injuries.
They had found the man responsible for Julianna’s death.
Chapter 22
For a moment, Lady Marianne de Lacey was inclined to let the duke do as he pleased.
Once Minerva realised just how much she had overestimated her own capabilities, her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. Even though she had been certain that Thomas would not harm her, his reaction to her words had been so sudden and strong, that anything could have happened at that point. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” her love kept asking her, and Minerva forced a smile.
She would never forget the expression on his face, when he thought that his brother had harmed her. She would remember that for the rest of her life, and she considered it the most precious gift he could have given her.
“I am fine,” she confirmed with a weak voice. “Nothing happened to me. Everything is all right.” She said the words with an expression of surprise, almost as if she could not believe that she was alive – but so it was. Her racing heart and light head were a welcome assurance that Minerva was still amongst the living, but what about Thomas?
Robert followed her gaze and turned even paler. “Can you stand?” he asked, and his eyes bored into hers. In that moment, something happened between them, which Minerva was unable to put into words. Suddenly, everything seemed simple and in a strange way, clear. There was no doubt between her and Robert. Whatever had happened and whatever would happen in their future, they would conquer it together.
“Of course I can,” Minerva said determinedly, but he still released his hands only reluctantly. “We should look after Thomas,” she said and put her fingers on his. “Your brother is alive.”
Minerva did not say what she was thinking out loud, because she saw the same emotions flashing across Robert’s face: relief, that he had not killed his own brother, combined with the knowledge that he and his brother were now at the beginning of a long journey, which possibly could lead to a reconciliation.
Robert knelt down beside his brother, and Minerva did the same. This was also because her legs were not yet able to carry her, despite her defiant declaration a few moments ago, as well as because she wanted to be near Robert and share everything with him. Thomas’s eyes were wide open, and his right hand was pressed to his left shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked, his face distorted in pain.
Robert didn’t say anything. The muscles in his jaw were hard, his lips tightly pressed into a thin line, as he removed Thomas’s hand from his shoulder. “Let me see your wound,” he ordered, ignoring his brother’s words. Minerva forced herself to look, although the smell of the blood made her feel nauseous. “It’s just a flesh wound, but we should bandage it and get you back to the house.” He looked down at himself and pulled off his spencer from his shoulders.
“Wait,” said Minerva, realizing that he was about to rip his shirt to shreds to bandage his brother. “My skirts are probably better suited.” She got up, lifted her dress a handbreadth and instructed Robert, with a look, to rip the fine batiste. She did not even care that Robert was able to see her ankles. It was not the time to worry about the appropriate decorum.
Thomas was still conscious. He was white as a sheet, but his chest rose and fell regularly. He would live and face the consequences of what he had done. Justice would be served, even though he would not feel the full force of the law. Was his urge for opium reason enough to exercise leniency, even though he was morally guilty of the death of his sister-in-law? Minerva thought about her mother, who was still recovering in her room.
“Why did you try to poison my mother?” she asked loudly, to overcome the sound of the shredding of fabric. Robert looked at her in astonishment, and Thomas’s eyes widened as well.
“Your mother was poisoned?”
There was no doubt – the expression of surprise on his face was genuine, Minerva thought. Nobody was that good an actor, especially not in circumstances such as these, wounded on the ground and in agonising pain. She avoided Robert’s inquisitive eyes and concentrated on the face of the man who lay before her.
“Someone gave her confectionary laced with arsenic,” Minerva said, never taking his eyes off him. It was only a suspicion, since she had not yet spoken to her mother about the chain of events, but after careful deliberation this seemed the most probable solution. “Tell me the truth and I shall never again mention it to you – why did you want to kill my mother?”
“I did not do that,” Thomas stammered, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Robert did not exactly handle him gently – however, Minerva took it as a good sign. If Thomas really had been in mortal danger, Robert would have treated him differently. He had lowered his head, so she could not see his face, but the posture of his shoulders revealed that he did not miss a single word of the conversation between Thomas and Minerva.
“I swear on all that I hold dear and sacred that I did not have anything to do with it.”
As strange as it was, Minerva believed him. So, if it was not him, who else was behind the cowardly attempted murder?
* * *
The way back to the house was exhausting, but they managed to get there eventually. Robert had half-carried his brother over his shoulder, whilst Minerva had followed them. She kept her distance from the brothers to give them a little space, but also because she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Every now and again, Robert glanced back to assure himself that she was fine. Minerva enjoyed his attention, wondering if there could ever be a real reconciliation between the unequal men. The snippets Robert had told her about their childhood touched her more than she could put into words. Robert was the stronger of the two, there was no question about that, but could Thomas have withstood his wretched addiction if his father had loved him? The realisation of just how much her own parents loved her broke over her and cut into her heart like a knife. She had not been a good daughter to them, she thought ashamedly. Instead of finding a compromise for their arguments, she had stubbornly insisted on her view of things, without even attempting to understand the concerns of her mother and her father.
The thought brought Minerva back to the starting point of her reflections. Who had poisoned her mother? They left the forest behind them and reached the park. Johnson came running towards them and took over Robert’s position. The duke immediately fell back to Minerva’s side and took her hand.
“Do you believe him?” he asked unceremoniously.
>
“Yes,” Minerva replied without hesitation.
“So do I,” Robert said heavy-hearted. “It’s most aggravating that your mother is still too weak to be able to tell us anything that happened.” He gently squeezed her hand and slowed their pace until Johnson and Thomas could no longer hear them.
“Could it have been an accident?” Minerva asked, even though she didn’t really believe in this theory. Robert shook his head.
“It is possible that she ingested arsenic by an unfortunate chain of circumstances, but it is highly unlikely. Here at Beaufort Castle, we only use arsenic to keep the rat plague at bay, but everyone here knows it is poisonous. On top of that, my administrator keeps the supply within a locked cabinet in his study. He said that none was missing since he had last used the arsenic over a month ago.”
“That means our search is not yet over,” Minerva said.
Abruptly, Robert stopped in his tracks and shook his head. “Oh yes, it is,” he said determinedly. “As soon as I have taken care of the situation with Thomas, I shall inform the authorities – something I should have done much sooner,” he said grimly. Silently, Minerva agreed with him. Why had Robert simply not asked his brother, instead of quietly fuelling his suspicions? Thomas, too, had suffered from the continued silence he had imposed on himself. Julianna’s death was irreversible, but he could have spared himself and his brother much suffering if he had admitted his unfortunate involvement. He was morally guilty, but he had not pushed her down the stairs, as Robert and she had initially suspected. Surely law would take this into account, or would it not?
“It will take a few days before the Bow Street Runners arrive, and until then I will ensure that you and your mother are under guarded protection.”
“You are willing to involve the Runners?” The London magistrate, Henry Fielding, had established this police force in the last century. Their reputation was not exactly the best, however, even the fiercest opponents to the group could not deny that they had the most experience in the field of criminal investigations. A simple constable from the country would undoubtedly have been utterly overwhelmed with an attempted murder by poisoning – therefore, it was a logical decision to seek help from the London police. “Is there no other solution for Thomas? I cannot help myself, but I do have the impression that he is not responsible for the death of your first wife.”
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