by Abigail Agar
“Yes, he was. So, perhaps, Mr. Reid was trying to silence me,” she said.
“Anything more?” he asked.
“That is all I have to say on Mr. Reid,” she said.
“And Mrs. Reid?” Hamish asked.
“She does not speak much. A rather cold woman. She is not always kind to the household staff, but I understand that, for a woman in her position, that is not uncommon,” she said.
“Aside from her coldness, is there anything more?” Hamish asked.
“She is quite a gossip, but she pretends to be philanthropic. For instance, she was speaking with some lady or other about giving money to the madhouse as a charitable act. It was only after that she mentioned it would be needed because another lady’s niece had been sent there,” she said.
Miss Reid grimaced and looked quite embarrassed.
“As dreadful as that is, it is not criminal,” he said.
Miss Smithfield shrugged.
“That’s all there is to her,” she said.
“What of the son? Mr. William Reid. Have you any secrets to share about him?” Hamish asked.
At that, Miss Smithfield looked at Miss Reid again. This time, however, she was truly nervous, as if something was very wrong.
“Please, Miss Smithfield, you have nothing to worry about,” he said.
Again, her face burned with shame.
“Mr. William…” she trailed off. “Mr. William likes me. He has no wife, and he has no intention of ever marrying me. But, he has, on many occasions, asked me to be his mistress.”
Miss Reid looked horrified by that.
“I see. It is not uncommon for a man in the house to expect a maid to be his mistress. And what of it? Has anything come to pass?" Hamish asked.
She vehemently shook her head no.
“Certainly not. He asked me to be his mistress and to keep it a quiet affair. I refused him, adamantly. I would never accept such shameful treatment,” she said.
“Very well. I am glad to hear it. There are many young women who do not realise they have such a choice,” he said.
“The only thing I have ever accepted from him was a pretty little token of his affection. I refused it at first, of course. However, he was very insistent, growing angry when I refused,” she said.
“Oh? What sort of thing was it?” Hamish asked.
With that, Miss Smithfield pulled an item out from her purse.
“He said that it was of high value. I kept it in my reticule so that it was tight with me. I did not wish to lose it,” she said.
Revealing the item, Miss Smithfield placed the signet ring in Hamish’s hand.
“It is a signet ring?” Hamish asked.
“Indeed. Mr. Reid said that he has had it for a long time, as long as he can remember. He said that he doesn’t know what it is from, only that it is quite valuable,” she said.
Hamish looked the ring over. He could not be sure about it, but it looked as though the crest was two eagles and a sword. It was, however, quite aged. He didn’t know if there was anything that had been worn from it.
“If you forgive me the intrusion, may I?” Miss Reid asked, stretching out her hand.
“Yes? What may I help you with?” Hamish asked her, not readily handing over the evidence.
“I wondered if I might be allowed to see the ring,” she said.
Hamish looked at her for a moment, trying to understand what was in her mind, but could come up with nothing. In the end, he simply nodded and handed it to her.
She looked it over, flipping it in her hand.
“It is not my family crest. I have never seen this before. If William had it, he kept it well hidden,” she said.
She could not have known how valuable that piece of information was. Hamish simply gave her a nod and took the ring back.
“Well, thank you both for answering our questions. It has been very enlightening,” he said.
“Indeed, thank you for hearing Miss Smithfield’s complaints. Again, I assure you, she has been honest with you,” Miss Reid said.
Hamish appreciated her words. But there was so much about her that he was intrigued by.
He simply hoped that he could keep his focus on discovering the truth. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by a beautiful woman.
And yet, he feared that was exactly what was going to happen.
Chapter 13
“Thank you, John. I know you will see her home safely,” Inspector Brock said.
Georgiana watched him as he sent Rachel and Sergeant Miller away. She didn’t want to remain behind, she wanted to go with them. And, if not that, she wanted to continue her investigating.
“I suppose that is all for today,” Inspector Brock said.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, surprised by this. After all, they still had so much to do. They needed to look into Rachel’s claims, to figure out who was behind these things. They needed to speak with others who knew her family members and learn if they could shed further light on any of these facts.
“Are you not intending to return home now?” Inspector Brock asked, surprised by her refute.
“Of course not. We still have work to do. Just because Rachel has departed does not mean that we are finished,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her petulance, but Georgiana ignored it. She already knew well that he was the investigator and she was simply the woman pushing him to investigate. Nevertheless, she was not going to let him slide through this.
“And what do you expect us to do? What is it that we are meant to do with our time now that you have decided to be so involved?” Inspector Brock asked.
“Investigate, of course. Do we not have a mystery to solve?” she asked.
He stared at her for a moment, as if exasperated. She understood his reason for being so, but Georgiana didn’t care.
Then again, he was a bit distracting in some ways. Although, she wanted to focus on the task at hand, she could not help the fact that Inspector Brock was an incredibly handsome man.
His brown eyes were deep and rich. His lashes were long and black. The freckles on his face accentuated the redness in his hair.
Indeed, he was very attractive.
However, he was also very frustrating.
“You would be wise to go home. In fact, I insist upon it,” he said.
“And who are you to make that decision? I do not know what has possessed you to believe that you may make choices for me, but I am not ready to leave. Not until we have more answers,” she said.
“And how do you expect to get them? Miss Smithfield is the only one who can tell us anything and she has already done so. She has gone. So what is it that you are expecting?” Inspector Brock asked.
“I am expecting you to do your job,” she said, although they had already discussed his expected duties and the fact that this was not among them.
“And I shall. But that does not involve you. I have more work to do and I cannot take you with me,” he said.
Georgiana was about to protest, but he stopped her with a soft look.
“Miss Reid, I do thank you for all of your efforts. I am glad that you have taken the time and have the heart to care for Miss Smithfield. She is fortunate to have you and I am glad for all of your assistance in this matter,” he said, gently. With that, he walked away.
There was something about his words…no, not his words. It was the tone of his words, the soft and caring way in which he said it, that left her breathless.
Despite herself, she was melting.
Georgiana had never expected this man to have such an effect on her. And yet, there were some things so soothing about him, so intensely lovely. He was hard-working in the most frustrating of ways. Responsibility overpowered all opportunity for enjoyment.
However, she knew that she needed to let him go and escape whatever feelings were threatening to devour her. A man like Inspector Brock would never allow himself to enjoy being a part of her life. He would be far too busy
working and devoting himself to all of his great efforts in work and deed.
She sighed, recognising that she could do nothing about the frustrating feelings, nor could she do anything about helping Rachel find out who was behind her departure. Georgiana had to accept that she was stuck in place and utterly powerless over what was going on around her.
She would have to depend upon others more than she cared to. Especially when it came to the dreadfully lovely Inspector.
Georgiana went to meet Sarah at the market. From there, they started for home.
“How was it? Did you learn anything?” Sarah asked.
She simply shrugged and kept her face forward, watching their steps in front of them as they tried to hail a coach that would take them back to the house.
Georgiana did not feel like responding. She didn’t want to admit the things that she had learned, the things that Rachel had shared about her family.
Although she had tried to stay quiet, she had tried not to be overwhelmed, it had been difficult to hear those things.
In some ways, she was not surprised about her father’s business. It grieved her to be so surprised, but that changed nothing.
However, learning all she had about William had been quite a disappointment. She would never have thought he would behave in such away. True, Rachel was pretty, but would he disrespect her so?
Sarah remained quiet, apparently understanding that Georgiana did not want to talk about it.
Before long, they arrived back at the house, where Sarah went back to work and Georgiana decided to search for her mother.
After a few moments she found her mother in the parlour. She was busily sewing and muttering to herself about the poor quality of the thread when Georgiana entered the room.
“Oh, are you back?” she asked. “I did not hear you arrive. Or did you come back quite some time ago?”
“Indeed, I only just returned. And you? What are you doing?” Georgiana asked.
“Oh, you know. Simply stitching away with these awful threads,” she said.
Georgiana was quiet for a moment. She didn’t want to jump into her questions, but she knew that she needed to ask them. If her mother was going to give her any hint at all, she would need to try and pry it from her.
“Have you had a good day thus far? Have you been alone or with the family?” Georgiana asked.
“Fine enough. I have been on my own, so it has been doubly fine,” her mother said, not caring that it insinuated to Georgiana that she ought to give her mother a bit of peace and longer time on her own.
“And father? Have you seen him today?” she asked.
“I believe he is still in town, at his office. You know how he is. He would rather be there than here anyway,” her mother said.
After a short pause Georgiana asked, “And how is his business?”
“Fine enough,” her mother said again.
“Just fine?” she asked.
“Of course. Your father is fine. Everything is fine. Why are you inquiring about all of this?" her mother asked, exasperated and looking up at Georgiana for a moment.
Georgiana said nothing and her mother went back to the work in her hands.
“Am I not allowed to know how my family is doing?” she asked, timidly.
Her mother shrugged and continued her stitching.
How was she supposed to learn anything from her mother? Did she even know anything about Georgiana’s father’s business? Did she care? It was as though she would rather be left alone than even think about his livelihood. And yet, despite her harsh demeanour, she was the only one Georgiana could go to in order to ask her questions.
“Have you spoken with William lately?” Georgiana asked, unwilling to let it go right away.
“About what?” her mother asked, still not looking up at her.
“Has he begun to court anyone? I thought that he may be interested in a young woman,” she said.
Her mother looked at her strangely, uncomfortable.
“He has not, to my knowledge. Why are you asking so many strange questions? I am not used to this from you,” she said.
Georgiana was frustrated. Her mother was always cold, but she was coming to learn that everyone in her family had their own strange behaviours. Her father appeared to have his lies and William appeared to have his desires. Her mother, quite simply, wanted nothing to do with any of them.
They were fractured, and it hurt.
Still, Georgiana had at least one further question. Not wanting her family to forget, she dared to ask it.
“Has Rachel returned?” she asked.
Her mother shrugged.
“I am not sure. I figure that she will in time, unless she did run off and get married,” she said.
Georgiana clenched her jaw. Why would her mother even suggest that Rachel had run off and gotten married? She wasn’t going to just disappear like that.
It made Georgiana so sad to think how everyone just figured Rachel had up and left. It was as though maids were so invisible that they would not even be noticed, having vanished.
But Georgiana knew otherwise. She knew that Rachel was a deep, kind, caring your woman. That she had value and so much goodness to who she was.
It angered her to think that maids all over London were looked down upon, ignored, treated like slaves. It was atrocious to think that her own family was even guilty.
Her own brother wanted to use Rachel as a mistress. Her father thought she was someone who could be threatened into silence. And her mother just shrugged, not caring whether Rachel existed at all.
Georgiana stood up and departed from the room, not even acknowledged by her mother.
She often thought that she was alone in the house. Perhaps that was why she had gotten along so well with Rachel. At least she had a friend. At least there was someone who was willing to listen to her, to spend time with her.
Certainly, her mother and father were not even aware of their friendship, but how could they be? They were so caught up in their own affairs that they knew very little about the life that Georgiana was living. They only expected that she would eventually find a husband, marry, and leave their home.
Nothing else about her mattered much to them at all.
Of course, in many ways, this only made her more eager to do just that. She wanted to find a husband, to marry, to be free of the home in which she lived. That was something that would bring her joy because, at least, then she would have made her own choice as to whom she bound herself.
Despite herself, despite the Baron of Ayre and all the other handsome men who had danced with her at this or that ball, it was Inspector Brock who popped into her mind when thinking about marrying.
What was it about him that intrigued her this way? Was it his stoic demeanour? Was it his dry humour? The way he never seemed to move from that subtle pride? His joyless face?
