by Abigail Agar
They returned to the estate and Georgiana decided to go for a walk. It was the only thing she could think of to do that would get her out of the house for a while longer.
Her feet took her out to the grounds, enjoying the beauty of everything her father had built.
Although their fortunes had turned, and were now turning again, she still felt pride for everything that he had done and all that he had worked for.
As she was walking, taking in the scent of the flowers and enjoying the feel of the breeze on her face, Georgiana saw her brother walking as well.
William was not someone who typically went out for walks. Georgiana had always teased him for being lazy. He had told her many times that walking was for the poor and men like him were better and had coaches.
However, she saw that he was not alone. William was walking with someone that she did not know.
Certainly, he had friends that she had never met.
Although, she tried to tell herself this, Georgiana could not deny the fact that something seemed strange. William was speaking with the man very intently.
There was something going on in their conversation, something that looked dramatic.
Georgiana watched closely, wondering what could possibly be taking place between the two of them. What was it that she did not know?
Sneaking around through a small patch of trees, she tried to get closer so that she might listen in.
“I tell you, she is gone. And I miss her a great deal,” William said.
“But where did she go? Does she still have the ring?” asked the other man.
Georgiana stifled a gasp, putting a hand to her lips.
“I am not certain. After all, I do not even know what has happened to her,” William said.
“Are you sure? You are not just trying to hide something? You did not send her away?” the man asked.
William looked around, as if sensing they were being watched. Although he did not see Georgiana, he ushered his friend further along until they were out of rang for her to hear.
She tried to convince herself that it was nothing, that he was simply speaking with a friend about his feelings for Rachel.
But who was this friend? Who was he and what did he mean to William?
It was not the first time that she felt suspicious of her brother.
But it was enough to make her pause.
Chapter 30
Hamish slammed the papers on his desk as hard as he could.
It did not have the satisfying effect that he had hoped it would.
Why had he let so much time go to waste? Why had he been focused on this case that meant nothing?
It was incredibly frustrating to know that he had made such a big mistake in trying to look into this. After all, there was really nothing there.
Rachel had already been found. No matter how many times he reminded himself of this, Hamish could not seem to wrap his mind around it.
After his unfortunate encounter with Miss Reid, what did it matter? He had really only been doing it for her. She was the reason that he had continued to look into all of this and now, he found that it didn’t matter. She was not going to be swayed by him.
What a foolish thing it was. What a foolish thing to try and get the care and attention of a young woman through attempting to solve a case for her. Why did he think that he could do anything to garner her interest?
In the end, he had to make up his mind, to make a decision. Would he continue working on this only to be spurned by love? Or would he move forward and focus on other things.
There had been quite an interesting robbery that week that had come into the precinct. He had given the duty of looking into that case to one of the other constables, but why should he not put forth an effort?
Was that not more important than this?
John certainly didn’t approve. John wanted him to move on, to leave all of this behind. Then again, John had also, at times, hinted and allowed the two to linger with one another.
His Sergeant was bothered by the fact that he had been spending so much time on a case that was not really a case, the case in which no crime had been committed.
So, there was the question left remaining for him? Should he drop it altogether? Should he let this go, finally, and give himself a break from all of the chaos he had allowed into his life since agreeing to look into this and investigate the issue?
Hamish looked at the papers in front of him. The pile was so much smaller than it was for any real case that he might try to investigate. It was as if there was nothing really for him to look into at all.
Or, rather, nothing that he had looked into as of yet. After all, if he had really accomplished anything, the investigation would be over with and there
Just as Hamish was making the decision that he was finished, that he would waste no more time on this, he was shocked by a knock at his door.
When he looked up, he saw her coming into his office with a look of fear and dread upon her face.
Rachel Smithfield.
He ushered her in the room and she came through, clearly having been crying. She sniffed and tried not to meet his gaze, although Hamish tried very strongly to force her to do just that.
“Miss Smithfield. Is something the matter?” he asked, keeping a hand gently upon her shoulder in comfort.
The young woman sniffled and nodded, but was clearly not sure how to proceed.
“Please, be seated. Allow me to get you some tea,” he said, sticking his head out the door and snapping for the attention of the station manager. He mouthed the word tea and Constable Gleason nodded, getting to work making the tea.
Hamish returned to the other side of his desk and gave Miss Smithfield as much time as she needed to calm down and begin speaking.
“Forgive me for barging in here. Perhaps I should not have come and bothered you at all. Oh, it is just awful. I do not know what to do. I thought that I had to come here, even if it was unwise or silly,” she said.
“Please, tell me what has happened,” Hamish said, tenderly and wanting to ensure that she was not frightened by his approach.
She took in a deep breath, swiping at a tear on her face.
“Take your time and be at peace. I am not going anywhere and I want to hear whatever it is that you need to tell me,” he said.
“It is about the ring. The one that I showed you, do you recall?” she asked.
Hamish certainly recalled. That ring had been on his mind nearly every day, wondering what it had to do with the mystery at hand.
“Yes, I remember the ring,” he said.
“Good. Good,” she said, more to herself than to him. Miss Smithfield fidgeted with her fingers, breathing in and out and in and out as if she was about to be set upon by some unknown villain.
“What is it about the ring that has you upset?” Hamish asked.
“Well, the ring was in my bag. I told you that I always kept it in there. I was eager to ensure that it was kept safe in a place where my valuable items might be hidden away,” she said.
“Yes, of course,” he said.
“Oh, that stupid ring. And I was so foolish for having accepted it,” she complained to herself.
The ring. Of course, it was about the ring.
Through all of this, Hamish had had his suspicions that the ring was the reason that all of this was happening. It certainly appeared to be that way. After all, everything is centered around it.
Well, perhaps not everything. His suspicions about Mr. Reid were not involving the ring, but Hamish have now begun to put those suspicions to rest.
He was far more suspicious of the son.
“Yes? And what about the ring. You were not foolish for having accepted it, but what is it about it that has you so bothered?” he asked.
“I had it in my bag as I was walking down the street. It was my turn to go into town and do the shopping at the market today. My mother has my sister and I go whenever we are able to so that we might have some time out of the home. And today was
such a lovely day that she sent us together,” she said.
“Right. So you were out and you had the ring in your bag. What happened then?” Hamish asked, trying to keep the conversation centered on the ring and not trailing off into family matters.
One of the most frustrating things about his duty in the law was hearing all manner of stories unrelated to his cases, meanwhile pertinent details were so frequently forgotten.
“We were on our way to the market and I had a sense that someone was following us. I could not see anyone, mind you. It was just a terrible…a feeling that I had. As though I must continue to look over my shoulder. As though there was something creeping at my skin,” she said.
Hamish nodded, urging her to continue.
“Then, after we finished at the market and had everything we needed, the feeling continued. We were just on the high street when I felt a sudden, strong grasp at my wrist. I dropped the sack of fruits and vegetables in my hand, as well as my purse,” she said.
Hamish’s gut started to churn. Was this a petty theft? Had someone seen that Miss Smithfield had a loose hold on the reticule because of the food that she carried? Or was it quite deliberate?
If someone really had been following her, the answer was clear enough.
“And what happened to your purse?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. There was no doubt in his mind of she was going to tell him.
“It was taken. The person who took it went off and away, after knocking me to the ground. I tried to chase after him, but was too slow. And I could not leave my sister behind for more than a few moments. She is only sixteen and I was frightened to be gone from her for long,” Miss Smithfield said.
“So your reticule was taken? Could this have been an act of regular theft?” Hamish asked.
“It was taken, yes, but there is more. You see, he was too fast and I was unable to catch up. I turned to collect Eleanor, but she had already grabbed the other things and was hobbling after me,” she said.
“So the two of you returned to your home?” he asked.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Then what?” Hamish asked.
“We continued in the general direction of the thief, thinking that we might be fortunate to see the person hidden in an alleyway. But we did not. What we found instead, just at the edge of an alley, not too far from where it all happened, was my purse,” Miss Smithfield said.
“Oh? They left it, did they? I assume that it was empty?” Hamish asked.
“No,” she said again. “Not empty. Everything that I carry in the bag was still there. Everything, except for the ring from Mr. Reid.”
Hamish frowned. So it really was all about the ring. Of course. It was obvious.
Just then, Constable Gleason came in and set the tea on the table, pouring it for the both of them.
“Sugar?” he offered Miss Smithfield.
She nodded and he put in one spoonful, then another, waiting for her to tell him when it was enough. Finally, after four sugars were added to her cup, she gave a nod that it was enough.
Hamish thought there was no possibility that she usually drank it so sweet and he realised what a treat it must be to have her tea that sweet without having to pay for it. He wanted to ensure that she had a second cup before leaving, if she wished for it.
Constable Gleason left them, closing the door behind himself.
“So, the thief took only the ring. That is quite suspicious,” Hamish said.
“That is what I thought, Inspector Brock. I know that there is a great deal of strange behaviour taking place in this, but I am certain that, whomever it was, they are tied to my departing,” she said.
“Miss Smithfield, I must ask. Do you think it was Mr. Reid who came and took it?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“I cannot say. It was difficult to tell. The person was shrouded,” she told him.
Shrouded. Of course the person was shrouded.
Hamish felt as though he could not catch any luck on this. No matter what he did, things were turning out badly. Nothing was coming together.
However, if he could find out, if he could just figure out who this person was, maybe this would all be brought to an end.
“But…” she said, giving him hope as she squinted her eyes, as if the person was still before her. “He seemed slighter. Mr. Reid is broad-shouldered. This person was not so. Although it was difficult to see the shrouded man running off, I do not think he was as large as Mr. Reid.”
Hamish nodded, considering this.
“Do you know many of Mr. Reid’s friends?” he asked.
“I am afraid I do not. He often went out to his gentlemen’s clubs, but rarely did he have any visitors at the house. Now and again, I suppose, but I could not tell you anything regarding their size and form,” she said.
“Hmm…” he wondered.
“What is it? Do you believe that he set a friend upon me?” she asked.
“It is possible. I cannot rule it out as a possibility,” Hamish said.
“Oh, dear. It is not bad enough that I have someone from the Reid family coming after me, now I must deal with their friends as well?” she asked.
Hamish winced, thinking how awful that must be. She must be terribly frightened.
“We will keep you safe, Miss Smithfield,” he said.
“Begging your pardon, Inspector, but I am feeling less and less safe all the time. How may I feel safe when these things continue to happen?” she asked.
It was a very good question. If he had not been distracted by his feelings for Miss Reid, he may have recognised that there was, indeed a true case here that needed to be looked at.
Although Miss Smithfield had been found and he could not attest to a crime before, he saw a crime now and he saw how his neglect had allowed for it to happen.
“I am very sorry, Miss Smithfield. You are right. It is time that we take faster action. I do promise you, we will be intent upon catching this person. We will be sure to learn the truth and nothing bad will happen to you,” he said.
And that was it. Just as he had decided that he was going to move forward, that he would be rid of this case, Hamish realised that he could not give up.
There had to be a secret around this that needed to be discovered. Now, he had a case that he could solve. Perhaps it was not what had led him to this investigation, but he could use this as his motivation.
Something needed to be solved. Hamish could not rest until Rachel Smithfield was safe.
Chapter 31
Guilty. Inspector Brock had believed she might be guilty.
Alone in her room, Georgiana thought about how much turmoil her emotions were in. All she could think of was the act that the Inspector had not trusted her, that he had questioned her in all of this.
It was painful, somehow. It was painful to think so highly of someone, to care so much for him.
