“No, no it does not,” the man admitted.
“Then why do it?” she asked.
“To drown out the memories and the voices,” he replied, his shoulders sagged with the shame of it.
“Mr. Pritchard, would you be so kind as to join me for a spot of tea? I know it is a bit early for a repast so soon after breaking the fast, but I find in times like this that a spot of tea does one a world of good,” Eliza invited. “There is so much I would like to hear from you about my parents. I remember so little before their murders.”
“I would like that very much,” Mr. Pritchard accepted. It was as if he had turned into an entirely different man right before their eyes.
Eliza rang for Mr. White and requested tea to be brought to the library. Everyone sat back down, with Eliza sitting next to Arthur upon the settee. Her closeness brought him comfort soothing his irritation with their guest. “I am so very pleased that you came to speak with us this morning,” Eliza informed the Pritchard men before her. “Other than Mr. and Mrs. Cole, I do not get the opportunity to speak with people who knew my parents very often.”
“It pleases me to no end that you found a safe and loving home,” Mr. Pritchard replied, almost smiling at her. Arthur was fairly certain that it was as close to a smile as anyone had gotten from the man in some time. His face had looked as if it had been carved in angry, bitter furrows from the moment they had met. Speaking with Eliza had lightened it considerably.
“I am blessed with love, but safety has been an issue of some difficulty of late,” Eliza admitted. “I am sure His Grace shared with you our recent difficulties?”
“He did mention there had been some problems, but he was a bit light on the details,” Mr. Pritchard gave Arthur a disapproving look as if he were the problem.
“His Grace was nearly killed in a horrific carriage accident that took the life of his driver. Shortly thereafter an attacker broke into the manor house and attempted to stab him in his sleep, then mere moments later a marksman shot the intruder and attempted to shoot both the Duke of Rosenhill and the Duke of Durton. It was terrible, and His Grace nearly died once more from loss of blood and infection,” Eliza explained her tone expressing her compassion and sorrow at the events that had transpired.
“The sins of the father,” Mr. Pritchard quoted and shrugged as if the attempts on Arthur’s life were to be expected.
“Should not be visited upon the son,” Eliza emphasized the word not to show her disapproval. Arthur smiled at her coming to his defense so forcefully.
Mr. Pritchard sat and thought about her words for a moment. “He claims to have attempted to make recompense for his father’s actions. Is this true?” Arthur bristled at the idea of his honor being questioned.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Pritchard. I have witnessed his generosity with my own eyes. He even saved my life. A truer, braver man you will not meet.” Eliza praised his deeds as if he were a knight from one of her stories that she read to the children at night. Arthur felt his heart swell at her words. He had never thought of himself in such terms, but he was delighted beyond measure that she did.
“I see.” Mr. Pritchard studied Arthur with new eyes. Arthur met his bloodshot eyes and held them unflinching.
“I wonder with all of your experience in law enforcement if you might lend us your keen mind? Were my father alive, I would most certainly ask him for assistance, but as he is not, I find I am floundering to aid my friend with a solution to the dangerous predicament we find ourselves in.” Eliza petitioned their guest for assistance with such innocent fervor that Arthur found himself ashamed of his earlier treatment of the man.
No, I was right to treat him thus. I am sure he is involved or at the very least knows something that might aid us in our search.
“I am not the man I once was,” Mr. Pritchard admitted his shoulders sagging beneath the shame and guilt of his actions.
“I am not the girl you once knew, but somewhere deep inside of us both is that person we lost, and I believe that together we might find our way back to those people once more,” Eliza petitioned. Arthur was so struck by her words that he nearly reached out and took her hand in his own. The only thing that stopped him was the presence of their guests. She spoke with such honesty of heart and compassion that he found himself to be entirely under her spell.
Arthur noted that he was not the only one. Every other man in the room looked at her as if she were an angel that had descended from heaven before their very eyes. She did indeed look angelic as she sat among them in her lovely lilac frock, her perfect dark ringlets framing her face. Her cheeks were the color of fresh cream and the palest pink rose. The morning light from the windows filtered in beams through the glass, reflecting the tears in her eyes turning them to sparkling dark pools like a Scottish loch in the darkest night.
“Your father would be proud of the woman you have become,” Mr. Pritchard broke the awed silence. He took a deep breath as if the weight of the world lay upon his chest then slowly expelled it. “For the sake of your father I will help you, Miss Bolton, but it is at the peril of all I hold dear.” Turning to Arthur and Duncan he said, “Can you promise my family protection?”
“We can,” both Dukes answered in unison.
Mr. Pritchard nodded his head. “I do not know who is responsible for the attempts on your life, but there are things I can tell you about both of your fathers.” He looked from Eliza to Arthur and back to Eliza again. “First I would like to know why His Grace thought I was the one responsible for the attempts on his life.”
“The last words of the intruder who was shot in an attempt to take my life were to utter the name Mark,” Arthur answered. “My father kept ledgers with the names of the people he had harmed. I have made amends and spoken with nearly everyone within the ledgers. You were one of the last on his list. I found it difficult to believe that one of your names was Mark, as was your sons.”
“I can see how that might have caused some suspicion to be cast my direction,” Mr. Pritchard admitted. “I am sure that state in which you found me when we first met did not improve your opinion of my character.”
“No, it did not,” Duncan confirmed.
Mr. Pritchard nodded in acknowledgement of his own part in their perceptions. “I can assure you that I do not now, nor have I ever had designs on taking any of your lives for any reason, and I would most assuredly never harm anyone of Miss Bolton’s acquaintance. However, I am not entirely innocent in the misfortunes of your lives.”
“What do you mean by that, Mr. Pritchard?” Arthur asked needing clarification after such a statement.
“I played a role in your father’s death.”
Chapter 22
The room fell silent, and everyone stared in dread anticipation of what he might say next. “Please explain yourself, sir,” Arthur demanded.
“I met Daniel Bolton when I was working with the magistrate. He had come to request aid pertaining to a delicate matter he had encountered while employed as a tutor at Rosenhill Manor. As a former Bow Street Runner, Daniel had experience in investigative work, and so we decided to work together to gather irrefutable proof of the late Duke of Rosenhill’s criminal activities,” Mr. Pritchard began his explanation.
“My adoptive father told me that Papa was afraid of the late Duke,” Eliza confided.
“That is true. We both were. Your father was a brave man who had dealt with many criminals over his career, but the late Duke was in a class all his own,” Mr. Pritchard confirmed, “and we both had families to protect. Had he discovered our investigations into his activities, I would not be here before you today. I only wish your father were here with us.”
“As do I,” Eliza agreed.
“We were never able to gather enough proof against the Duke while Daniel was alive, but I never ceased my inquiries. Then one day a little over a year ago, a man came to me stating that he would be willing to testify against the Duke for blackmail and extortion. As you can imagine, I was overjoyed to have our wor
k finally produce results.”
“Who was the man?” Arthur inquired.
“He never gave me his name, and he never returned to do as he had promised. I fear he was murdered to keep him from testifying. Shortly after the man disappeared, I awoke one morning to find a dead crow with a white arrow through its chest on my doorstep. I knew what it meant and who had left it. I was not willing to allow the Duke to harm me or my family, so myself and a few other of his victims disguised ourselves as highwaymen and ambushed him on the road.”
Arthur sat up straight in his chair staring at Mr. Pritchard intently. “Did you kill my father?”
“No. We beat him and warned him that if he ever threatened another person again, we would return and finish the job. He was alive when we left him and fully capable of riding home on his own. When I found out later, he had died, I grew concerned and went to see the body for myself. He bore the bruises and cuts of the beating we gave him, but he had died from a gunshot wound. None of us ever used a pistol.”
“So how are you responsible for his death?” Arthur asked.
“Had we not beaten him perhaps he would have been able to defend himself. I am not a murderer. The Duke was an evil man who harmed many people, but he should have been imprisoned, not murdered. I have felt responsible for his death since that day. Worse yet, our beating accomplished nothing for the very next day another black crow with a white arrow lay on my doorstep with a warning that if I did not cease my investigations immediately, everyone I loved would die.”
“We have had two such crows delivered to us here at Durton Manor. Do you know who is responsible?” Duncan asked, leaning forward in his chair flexing his fingers as he was preparing to beat upon whomever the culprit might be.
“No, I do not. I am ashamed to admit that I allowed my fear to overpower my sense of honor. I ceased my investigations, quit my work with the magistrate, and attempted to create a safer life for myself and my family, but I could not live with the shame of my cowardice. I watched the people of the village suffer in poverty and did nothing. Unable to bear the guilt, I retreated into drink and never returned.”
“Do you know who killed my father?” Arthur asked.
“No, I do not.”
“Do you know who murdered my parents?” Eliza asked quietly afraid of what the answer might be.
“No, my dear. I am sorry, but I was never able to ascertain what had happened. Had the Duke known about us, I, too, would have been slaughtered. I always assumed it was something from your father’s past in London. If I knew, I would have sought justice long ago.”
Eliza nodded her head in a mixture of disappointment and relief. The idea of knowing after so many years had frightened her as she was not sure what she would do with the information. She was not a murderer herself, but she had long dreamt of making the men who had killed them suffer. The anger she felt could have easily consumed her had she let it. It was the Cole family that had kept her from losing herself completely over the years.
“Have you been threatened since?” Arthur asked.
“No, I have not, but I never put their threat to the test. My family is too precious to me to risk their harm,” Mr. Pritchard stated placing an affectionate hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Why did the intruder say your name when he died?” Arthur questioned.
“I do not know. Perhaps it was one of the men who joined me in attempting to teach the Duke a lesson,” Mr. Pritchard suggested. “Without seeing his face and speaking with him, I would have no way to ascertain his motives.”
“As he lies moldering in an unmarked grave, I do not see that as a possibility,” Duncan retorted.
“I fear that is the case,” Mr. Pritchard nodded. “Perhaps he thought I had more answers than I do.”
“We may never know,” Arthur admitted with disappointment in his eyes. “Every time I believe we are near discovering who is behind these attacks, we fall short leaving us more uncertain than before.”
“Having some threaten your life is disconcerting at best,” Mr. Pritchard commiserated.
“Yes, it is, but it is not so much myself that I worry. It is the ones I leave behind that I fear the most for,” Arthur remarked.
Eliza reached over and laid a hand on his arm in compassion. Arthur smiled at her and put his hand atop hers. Knowing they had an audience, they released each other and turned back to their guests. “Thank you for sharing your story with us,” Eliza stated, sensing how difficult it had been to do so.
“Now I have broken with the unspoken agreement between myself and the man who left the threat on my doorstep by speaking with you. My family is once again in danger. I fear for my wife and other children as we speak, for if your estate is being watched, they will already know I am here.”
“We are to return to Rosenhill this very day. I would be glad to have your family come and stay with us there. I would like to hire you to continue your investigative work into the situation, but I have one proviso,” Arthur offered. “You must surrender the drink. I will not have a drunkard in my employ risking those I hold dear.”
“I will not touch another drop,” Mr. Pritchard swore. “You have allowed me an opportunity to restore my honor. I will not let you down, Your Grace."
“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Pritchard,” Arthur replied, rising to shake the other man’s hand.
“I will send you home with a carriage for you to gather your family and take you to Rosenhill,” Duncan offered.
“That is most kind of Your Grace. I thank you,” Mr. Pritchard stated, bowing to both dukes in turn.
“I apologize for how we treated you before,” Arthur stated. “I should never have judged you so harshly with having first gathered all of the facts.”
“I would have done the same were I in your place, Your Grace.” Mr. Pritchard waved the offense aside as if it were nothing at all now. Turning to Eliza, he took her hand and bowed over it placing a kiss upon the air just above it. “I look forward to future conversation with you remembering your parents.”
“As do I,” Eliza answered smiling.
As the three of them watched the Pritchard men leave the library to retrieve the rest of their family and take them to safety, Eliza could not help but think of the drastic change in the man from the moment she walked into the room until the moment he departed. It was as if he had been born anew. The three of them sat back down together and exchanged looks that said they were all thinking the same thought.
“I have never,” Duncan began.
“Nor I,” Arthur agreed.
“It is moments such as these that remind us to hold our judgments concerning others,” Eliza remarked.
“Indeed,” Duncan agreed, staring at the empty doorway as if he could still see them there.
“You are an example to us all,” Arthur stated taking her hand in his and kissing it in respect and admiration. He hovered over it for a moment longer than was absolutely necessary as if he were loath to release it. “Were it not for you, we would never have gotten the truth, and he could have lived the rest of his life in mourning for his honor.”
“Such a sad life that would be,” Eliza replied. Her heart went out to the poor man and his family. “It is terrible when otherwise good men are lost to drink. So much potential for greatness is washed away in putrefaction.”
Both Dukes nodded their head in agreement. They had all seen it too many times. “How will you keep him and his family safe at Rosenhill?” Duncan asked. “I would be all too happy to loan you a portion of my men to assist in providing for your security.”
“We will be fine with my men. I will have Mrs. Philips settle them into a set of rooms and post a guard,” Arthur answered.
“Do not be remiss in setting your own guard,” Duncan ordered firmly.
Eliza smiled at the caring between them. Their friendship never failed to warm her heart. Duncan stood and laid a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I will go and ready a carriage to return you to Rosenhill and see that Mr. Pritchard de
parts without incident.”
“Thank you, Duncan, for everything,” Arthur replied sincerely.
“There is never any thanks needed between us. Durton will not be the same with you gone,” Duncan admitted.
“We will miss our time here together, but…”
“Responsibility beckons,” Duncan nodded his head in understanding, then left the room.
“Will you be terribly sad to leave?” Arthur asked turning to Eliza. “I know you and Duncan have become quite close during our stay here.”
“My place is with you and the children. I will cherish the time we have all spent here together, but Rosenhill is your home and whither though goest, I go,” Eliza answered.
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