If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (23 page)

Kate cleared her throat, trying to form the words she needed to say. She looked away, unwilling to watch Wynbrook’s reaction. Whatever was blossoming between her and Wynbrook, this revelation would kill it. Kate kept her eyes straight ahead, looking out the window to the bright orange sunset. The day was over and so too was this potential life with Wynbrook. She was watching it come to an end. Or possibly she was killing it with her bare hands.

“I decided that since Robert was joining the navy, if I wished to remain with him, I must join too.”

Kate paused to allow her words and their meaning to be understood. She did not want to watch as Wynbrook began to understand that she had been ruined beyond all hope of redemption, yet she could not help but turn to him. At first, his face remained impassive, a slight frown on his brows. Then understanding dawned, his eyes widened and his lips parted but he said nothing. He squeezed her hand again and it gave her the courage to continue.

“I cut my hair. I quickly reworked some of Robert’s clothes to fit me. I did not tell him my plans until I had completed the disguise, then presented myself to him and our tutor.”

His voice came in a hoarse whisper. “He let you…”

“No, he told me I would not go, could not go. He was working on some agreement with a girls’ seminary to accept me then and be paid later, but his request was denied. Perhaps we were young and did not know all our options, but to this day I am not sure what else we could have done. We did not know whom to trust. And Robert feared for my safety if he left me unprotected.”

“Oh, Kate, I wish we had known you then. We could have protected you. I would have…” His voice trailed off. “And to think I said such horrible things about you and Dare that day before the accident. How can you ever forgive me? I was such an unmitigated arse.” The pain was clear in his eyes.

“Yes, you were,” Kate agreed. “But you have more than made up for your uncharitable words. Indeed, Robert and I are quite in your debt.”

Wynbrook shifted closer to her. “But how did you manage? How…?”

“Robert introduced me as his cousin, Ashton. I was young and thin and looked for all the world like a lad. I worked as a cabin boy and ran powder to the gunners during engagements.”

His eyes opened wide. “Engagements? You were in battle?”

“Yes, I served under Lord Nelson in the Battle of the Nile.”

His eyes flashed with sudden understanding. “The medal I found, it was yours, not your brother’s. Oh, my sweet girl.” He suddenly embraced her, wrapping her in his warm, strong arms. She was stunned, utterly speechless. This was not the reaction she had anticipated. Hesitantly, she rested her cheek upon his shoulder.

“So you see why it is that I cannot marry you. I cannot marry anyone.” Her voice was muffled from his shoulder.

He released her from his embrace but held her at arm’s length, his hands on her shoulders. He frowned at her until sudden realization dawned on his face. “Wait,
cousin
Ashton? Not the Mr. Ashton who has been serving as my solicitor for the past six years.”

“Er…yes.” She had hoped he would not make the connection.

Wynbrook stood up and began to pace the room. It was a lot to take in all at once. “So let me get this straight. You were defrauded of your inheritance, sent to debtors’ prison, served in the Royal Navy, fought in the Battle of the Nile, and for the past six years have been acting as my financial adviser and solicitor.”

“So you see why I am not fit to be your wife. Or anyone’s wife.” She felt quite small having her faults laid out before her so succinctly. She clasped her hands together in her lap so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“And Tristan knew this!” he cried, saving the worst offense for last.

“Some of it,” she confessed.

“I always wondered how Tristan managed to graduate Cambridge with a degree in law. You helped him!”

“A bit.” And by “a bit,” she meant quite a lot.

Wynbrook shook his head. “It would be a thing he would do.”

“I enjoyed learning, and it allowed us to manage our affairs better.”

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Yes. Quite. I will leave you in peace.” It was past time to make her exit. The best she could hope for now was to withdraw with whatever dignity she had left. She stood to leave, but Wynbrook caught her up in his arms.

“I am sorry to have alarmed you with my reaction. It is just such an amazing story, though now I understand why you are as you are. I thank you for telling me. Most ladies would have taken the offer and never shared their past.”

“I am not most ladies,” said Kate stiffly. “Now please unhand me.”

“Sorry, my dear, but my offer still stands.” He released her from his embrace but held both her hands in his, smiling down at her.

She could not believe her ears. Her jaw dropped and she could do nothing to keep from gaping at him. “After all I just told you, you still wish to marry me?”

“Yes, indeed. Only when we are wed, I will expect you to perform the office of financial adviser gratis. Save me several pounds a year.” He grinned at her.

He must be mad. She was sure of it. “The purpose of this revelation is to explain why I cannot marry you.”

“So you keep saying,” drawled Wynbrook. “But I still refuse to see why that is so.”

“I spent a year of my life masquerading as a cabin boy. What if your society friends were to discover this fact?”

“I should laugh in their faces. What a ridiculous story. Too fantastic to believe.” He snapped his fingers as if it were nothing to bring about, and she had to admit the daughter of an earl working as a cabin boy aboard an English Navy ship was too far-fetched, even for society.

“But…” Kate was at a loss for words.

“The thing we really must do is find whoever did this dastardly deed to you and Dare in the first place. Do you think your abductors and your old enemy may be connected?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s past time we found out. Have you interviewed the staff who worked here at the time?”

“Some inquiries have been made, but no one knows anything. We have let go all the staff that worked here when we were young, not knowing whom to trust. I do not believe anyone is still alive who might be able to help us.”

“Have you asked your current housekeeper?”

“Well…no. But she was not employed here then. Of what help could she be?”

“A competent housekeeper knows all,” he said with confidence. He rang the bell and asked the footman to request the presence of the housekeeper.

“I do not see how she could help,” said Kate when the footman had gone to fetch Mrs. Brooke. She was feeling rather unsteady at his acceptance of her secrets and his immediate jumping in to investigate her greatest mystery.

“You never know until you ask,” said Wynbrook. “We need to put to rest the ghosts from your past so we can move on,” he said kindly.

“We? There is no we. These are
my
ghosts. Do not trouble yourself.”

The conversation was cut short by the arrival of the housekeeper. Wynbrook motioned for her to ask, and Kate relented, knowing there was nothing the new housekeeper could reveal on this matter.

“Mrs. Brooke,” said Kate, “I am looking for information on how the house was run before your time. Do you know any of the staff who worked before you who might still be around?”

“There’s Mrs. Hennings, the housekeeper.”

“But I thought she committed…that she took her own life,” Kate stammered. This had been the information she had received.

“She tried. But she survived, or what’s left of her. She lives with her daughter, Mrs. Saunders, in the village.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brooke,” said Kate. She stared at Wynbrook when the housekeeper turned to leave. She could not believe that after all these years, she finally had a clue as to someone who had been present when her father died.

It was getting late and darkness had crept up slowly, so any adventure would have to wait until the morrow. “So would you like to have a chat with your old housekeeper tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“And now will you marry me?”

“No.”

Wynbrook shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying. Your refusal does not sound quite as adamant, and in that, I take hope.”

* * *

Silas Bones did not relish returning to his father empty-handed. After his men had first lost Lady Katherine and then misplaced Lord Darington, he had joined them in the fruitless search for the missing earl. They had asked around, greased the palms of many individuals, but the only thing he had discovered was that a gentleman and a lady had taken some interest in his men’s coach but had driven off a short time later.

He could only guess that either Darington had died somewhere in the hedgerows or he had been spirited away by the mysterious couple in the coach. Silas returned to Portsmouth without any sense of haste. His men he had sent ahead, with the hope his father would burn out his fury on them. Captain Harcourt was known for many things, but patience, forgiveness, and understanding were not any of them.

Silas walked down the docks toward his father’s frigate, the
Kestrel.
Moored next to the
Kestrel
was the
Lady Kate
, the Earl of Darington’s ship. He wondered what Darington would think if he knew his enemy was so close at hand.

With leaden feet, Silas climbed aboard the
Kestrel
. His two companions were slumped over on the main deck, still bound to the mast where they had been whipped. The memory of his own punishments flooded back. He spared them no more than a glance. They knew the risks of disappointing Captain Harcourt.

He found his father enjoying his port and cigar after what had surely been a fine meal. His brows lowered when Silas entered.

“You lost my cargo,” he began, his voice deceptively soft.

“Aye, sir.”

“You lost my cargo to Darington.” His voice began to rise.

“Aye, sir.” Silas braced himself for the onslaught.

Harcourt bounded to his feet and rounded the table to stand inches from Silas as he screamed in his face. “You lost my cargo, my treasure, my money, to the son of the man who stripped me of my rank, my title, my
everything
. You worthless, spineless idiot. I am repulsed by your inept presence. I should keelhaul you until you are sliced into chum and feed you to the sharks like the rubbish you are!” Harcourt cursed further and Silas said nothing.

In a flash, Harcourt struck him across the face. Silas took it on the jaw, remained standing, and said nothing in response. He had failed his father. He deserved rough treatment.

Cursing more, his father rummaged through some papers on a side desk of the captain’s quarters. He turned back and thrust a piece of parchment at him. “Fortunately, I prepared one last trick on the first Earl of Darington, just in case his brats ever troubled me. You take care of this. Don’t return to me until you have Lady Katherine’s dowry.”

“What’s this?” Silas took the parchment.

His father gave him a sinister smile. “Your marriage contract.”

Silas opened the parchment and read through it quickly, stunned by the contents. “A marriage contract between myself and Lady Katherine? You want me to marry her?”

“I don’t care what you do to her. Just get me the fifty thousand pounds.” His father pounded the table with a menacing thud. “Do not fail me again.”

The next day, Kate and Wynbrook planned to interview the former housekeeper. When Robert was informed the old housekeeper, long thought dead, was still alive, he insisted on coming along. In the end, they all decided to take an excursion to the village, Wynbrook driving them in an old carriage they had found in the barn. Kate was a little unsure if Emma should accompany them, but her brother seemed to appreciate her presence and Kate did not object.

Emma had the presence of mind to pack a basket of goodies to be given to their old housekeeper, which seemed a decent rationale for their visit. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, but it was at least dry when they drove the five miles down to the village, nestled around a cove by the ocean.

The modest fishing village was comprised mainly of small, white houses, closely clustered near each other, as if huddling together for protection against the elements. Robert knocked on the door of a humble cottage and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Though he said nothing, Kate had no doubt his wound was hurting him, and she hoped he was not pushing himself too hard to do the interview.

For herself, the tension of meeting their old housekeeper made her very bones ache from holding herself so rigid. What did the woman know? Was she complicit in some of the evil plot against them? Would she even talk to them at all?

The door opened to reveal a plump, middle-aged woman wiping her hands on her apron. Upon seeing the quality at her doorstep, her eyebrows rose significantly, and she gave them a curtsy. “How can I help you?”

“We are here to see Mrs. Hennings.” Robert handed the woman his card, which she obediently took from him. She glanced at it, but no flicker of recognition crossed her face and Kate doubted that the woman could read.

“Me mother is ill, sir. She sees no one.” The confusion and distress on the woman’s face was clear.

“Lord Darington and Lady Katherine have brought some gifts for your table. May we come in?” asked Emma sweetly, holding up the basket.

“Yes, yes, of course!” She opened the door wide and ushered them in, her face reddening for having kept such persons waiting on her stoop. She showed them into a small sitting room with a low ceiling, forcing both Wynbrook and Robert to duck their heads as they entered the room. Several wide-eyed, openmouthed children stared at them from the corner of the room, which Kate could tell was the main room for the household, serving as the sitting room, dining room, and anything-else-that-needed-to-be-done room. The woman made a quick gesture, and the children vanished without a sound. “Please, do make yourselves comfortable.”

The woman glanced around at the threadbare but comfortable furnishings, a frown on her face as if doubting very much that the notable persons before her could find much comfort in her humble room. Kate was not at all unnerved by the humble furnishings and found herself a chair. Robert motioned for the woman to sit, which she did obediently, and they all followed, making the small room seem to shrink with their presence. The woman’s eyes were wide at the uncommon courtesy afforded to her by Lord Darington and his friends.

“Please allow us to introduce ourselves,” said Emma with ease and charm. “This is the Earl of Wynbrook, I am Miss Emma St. James, and you have already met Lord Darington and his sister.”

“How do you do?” said the woman automatically.

“Forgive our intrusion,” said Kate, trying her best to mimic Emma’s grace in the awkward situation. “We should have visited before this time, but we were of the understanding your mother was no longer living.”

Kate was attempting civility, but the woman’s eyes grew even wider and her face turned pale. She did not respond nor did she seem capable of speech. Kate exchanged a glance with Wynbrook.

“May we have the honor of knowing your name, madam?” Wynbrook asked.

The woman started, as if shocked back into reality. “I’m Mrs. Saunders, Mrs. Hennings’s daughter.”

“And did your mother work at our estate as a housekeeper?” asked Kate.

“Aye, she did, milady. Until…”

“Until what?” asked Kate with growing suspicion that here in this shabby room lay the secrets to understanding what had happened in their past.

“Well, I suppose you have a right to know if anyone does. Me mother worked there till the creditors came and took everything. She was let go but was never the same. She even…” Mrs. Saunders held her hands before her on her lap tightly and took a breath before continuing. “She tried to take her life. She spent ten years in the sanatorium. She rarely speaks now and I take care of her. She is not a well woman.”

Disappointment washed over Kate. They had finally found someone who might have been able to shed light on what had happened only to find she was an invalid. “Forgive me, for this must be a difficult subject, but do you know why she wished to die? Was she mentally unstable?”

“No!” Mrs. Saunders shouted. “Forgive me, but my mother is a good, Christian woman. She would never have tried to kill herself.”

“Then how do you explain her actions?” asked Kate gently.

“I cannot,” said the woman miserably, pushing aside the strand of brown hair that had fallen into her eyes. “I don’t know what caused her to do something so out of her character. She never speaks of it or what happened in that house.”

Greystone Hall had claimed another victim.

Kate wasn’t sure what to do next. Clearly, the poison that had afflicted Greystone had affected more than just her family. But if she was ever to find out what had happened, she needed to speak to someone who remembered those sad times.

“Maybe Lord Darington and his sister could be permitted to see her?” asked Wynbrook. His tone was gentle and sympathetic.

Mrs. Saunders appeared to be wrestling internally with some dilemma. She bit her lower lip and looked furtively at her guests.

“We do not wish to upset her, but I remember her as a kind woman when I was a girl, at a time when there was little kindness about me. I should like to give her my regards.” Kate wished to at least be able to set eyes on the housekeeper, even if they would not be able to glean any helpful information.

“All right then,” relented Mrs. Saunders. “I just worry for her, you understand, after all she’s been through.”

“I understand,” said Kate, though she also understood that this may be her only chance to ask the housekeeper any questions.

The housekeeper’s daughter led them to a small back room in which a frail, gray-haired woman sat in a chair, looking out the window, her wrinkled face illuminated in the gray light of the cloudy day. “Mama? I’ve brought you some visitors.”

Kate stepped closer to her old housekeeper, trying to see the woman she remembered. The Mrs. Hennings of her memory was a stout woman with rosy cheeks and a long braid of light brown hair worn pinned around her head.

Vaguely, Kate remembered getting caught by Mrs. Hennings trying to sneak an extra sticky bun. She and her brother had expected the worst, since their governess was quick with the switch, but Mrs. Hennings had merely laughed at their antics and allowed them to eat their ill-gotten gains.

The woman before Kate hardly resembled the Mrs. Hennings she remembered. Gone were the plump, rosy cheeks and the easy affection she had shown them.

“Mrs. Hennings?” Kate stepped up closer, moving into her view. “I do not know if you will remember me.”

Slowly, the frail woman turned from the window to Kate. Her eyes widened, and she put a shaky hand to her chest. “My Lady Darington,” she gasped. She attempted to rise to her feet, her hands and legs shaking.

“No, please do not rise for me. It is me, Katherine. Lady Darington’s daughter.”

“My Lady Darington. How well you look. Have you recovered from your illness? We were so worried.” The woman’s crackling voice sank Kate’s hopes of gaining any more information. The woman thought she was her mother. Clearly her mind had been addled by whatever had happened.

“Yes, I am well now, thank you.” Kate tried to think of a way to try to have the woman remember what had happened, but she didn’t know if the woman’s mind could tolerate the memory. Her daughter, Mrs. Saunders, stood nearby twisting a bit of her skirt in her hands, and would no doubt jump forward if she thought her mother was in any danger.

“You are the housekeeper at Greystone?” asked Robert, playing along with the woman’s delusion.

“Yes, yes, I have worked for the Darington family for years now.” The woman gave them a small smile, which appeared to crack her face into even more wrinkles.

Her daughter put a hand to her heart, whispering, “I have not seen her smile in years.”

“And do you enjoy your work, madam?” continued Robert in a conversational tone.

“Yes, the family is very good to me.” The smile faded and a cloud passed over her countenance. “A shame the master is ill.”

“Do you know what makes him ill?” asked Kate. It was one of her many questions. Why had her father lingered in illness and died so young?

“No,” the old woman whispered, but her eyes were wide and wild. “So many bottles. I didn’t know.” She grabbed Kate’s hand and held it with a surprisingly strong, icy grasp. “I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” asked Kate.

“I didn’t know!” Mrs. Hennings cried. “Forgive me, Lady Darington, for what them bastards did to your husband and your sweet babes. I swear I didn’t know.”

“It is all right, Mum, of course you didn’t know.” Her daughter rushed to her side to comfort her, but Mrs. Hennings would not let Kate’s hand out of her grasp.

“What is this about?” asked Kate, wincing at the tight grip of the old woman.

“I know not,” said the daughter. “Forgive me, but I think you should leave. Me mum is not well, as you can see.”

Kate nodded reluctantly. “Mrs. Hennings, I’ll take my leave now.”

Mrs. Hennings released Kate’s hands and began to cry into the shoulder of her daughter. What could have happened to cause such grief and pain?

“Mrs. Hennings,” said Kate, and waited for the woman to quiet herself, though the old woman’s face remained buried in her daughter’s shoulder. “It is I, Lady Darington. I do not wish you to blame yourself. All is forgiven. I wish you a peaceful rest.”

Mrs. Hennings looked up, her face twisted in anguish. Slowly, her features relaxed and she took a deep breath. She sat up in her chair and gazed at Katherine as if seeing her for the first time. “Ah, Lady Kate. You always was a kindly child.”

Kate held her breath, realizing that Mrs. Hennings had recognized her for the first time.

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words a long time. A long time.” Mrs. Hennings took a deep breath. “At least there is someone to care for you and the young master. I made sure of that. How is General Roberts, dear?”

He was an unfeeling cad who could not be bothered to help them when they needed it most. However, Kate did not wish to distress her more, so she gave a forced smile, saying, “He is well, thank you.”

“Good, good,” said Mrs. Hennings, bobbing her head.

“Mrs. Hennings, there is something I must ask you,” said Kate, ignoring the flash of warning from the daughter. “Of course no one blames you for any of what occurred, but we feel that those who were responsible for it may be trying to cause trouble again. Do you know who these people might be?”

“No, no.” The old housekeeper’s eyes grew wide again. “I cannot say. Never. Never.”

She knew something, and Kate needed to find out what.

Her daughter, however, was looking increasingly worried. “I think it might be time for—”

“Tea!” declared Emma, joining the conversation with a brilliant smile. “What an excellent suggestion. Come, Mrs. Saunders, let us let these old friends enjoy their reminiscences.”

“Yes, I have it on good authority they packed some delicious items in that basket. Let’s open it up and find out!” Wynbrook held out an arm to usher her out of the room.

“But, my mother—”

“Will be in good hands, and I’m sure will do better for a spot of tea. How do you prepare yours, Mrs. Saunders?” Emma asked politely. Between her and Wynbrook, Mrs. Saunders was escorted out of the room, leaving Kate and Robert to interview their old housekeeper. Wynbrook turned back to her and mouthed the words
good luck
.

She smiled back at him. Truly, the man could be helpful when he set his mind to it.

“Mrs. Hennings,” said Kate when they were alone in the room, “I fear Darington and I may come to peril if we do not know who our enemy is.”

Mrs. Hennings gritted her teeth but slowly nodded her head. “You should know, you should know. I hope you shall not think too badly of me.”

“Never, especially if you would help us now.”

Mrs. Hennings sat taller in her chair and closed her eyes as if going back in time and watching the events as they occurred. “Your mother died bringing you into the world, poor dears. At first, I feared you two may not make it, for you were so small, but your father loved you dearly. I think it was his love what saved you.”

Unexpected tears sprang to Kate’s eyes with that small piece of information. She had few memories of her father. He had been gone much of their young childhood, and when he’d finally returned, he was nearly blind. “Go on,” she said roughly.

“Lord Darington’s eyes were never good after a flash of gunpowder nearly blinded him in the war. But soon he began to become ill. We sent for the doctor, of course, and there were pills and bloodletting and draughts to be given. I always made sure he received everything the doctor told us to do. His steward insisted on sending for a doctor he knew from London, saying that he would be better than our old country practitioner. I don’t know about that, for it seemed he only got worse.

“After you two were sent on to school, strange things started happening. At first, pieces of silverware would come up missing, and then one day, it was all gone, just gone. I reported it, of course, to the butler, but he told me not to worry. The next day he was gone. I never saw him again.” She began to wring her hands.

“Do not fret. You did all you could,” soothed Kate, not wanting her to stop her tale.

“Yes, I did, but what was I to do? More and more things went missing. Finally, the steward told me that the earl was in dire financial straits and the things must be sold to pay his debts. Most of the staff was let go and we shut up most of the house. I was glad you and Robert were off at school, and I hoped Lord Darington would recover and be able to set things to rights. The doctor came more frequently and stayed with us for a while with his teenage son. By this time, practically everything that wasn’t nailed down was sold. I was starting to look for a new position, you understand, not knowing how much longer they could afford to pay me. In truth, towards the end, I had not received my pay in over four months.”