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Authors: Audrey Harrison

BOOK: An Inconvenient Trilogy
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“He can’t ruin Elizabeth now, she is a married woman,” Violet said, pointing out the obvious difference in circumstances since the last time George and Elizabeth had met.

“We know what he wanted to do, it is obviously still his aim. He could be here now! Damn them for not finding out sooner! You have been in danger for weeks!” Michael exploded.

Everyone had jumped at the outburst, but Elizabeth responded calmly to her husband. “I am surrounded by people; my socialising can easily be cut short because of my condition. I am happy to confine myself to the locality and not put the baby at any risk. He will be found.”

“Michael, she will not be left alone for a moment,” Violet assured her brother. “Charlotte, could you please accompany me? I have some errands that I need help with, if we are to stay here indefinitely.”

“Certainly,” Charlotte replied, and the two ladies left the room together.

Violet led the way to her bed chamber and sat at her dressing table. She invited Charlotte to sit on the chaise lounge at the end of the bed. “My dear, I think you should consider returning to your uncle while all this is going on.”

Charlotte was shocked. “I don’t understand. If you want me out of the house, of course I will go, but is there nothing I can do to help? It seems from what has been said that the more people that remain here the better. If I can be of assistance, I will.”

“You are a dear girl, I was hoping you would say that, but you may not when you realise what we are up against.”

Violet told Charlotte about Elizabeth’s cousin, his wife and brother approaching Elizabeth to try and obtain her money. When she had refused, they had plotted to have her compromised by George, the brother. That way she would have been forced into marriage and they would have had access to her fortune.

“They drugged her and took her to an inn. Only for her cousin being afraid for his life when Michael got to him, Elizabeth would have been ruined by George. Michael never talks about it, but Elizabeth once told me that if Michael had arrived even five minutes later, it would have been too late.”

Charlotte was horrified at the thought. It was far worse than anything she had been through, and that
still
gave her nightmares. She wondered how Elizabeth could seem so at peace. “My goodness! What happened to her cousin?”

“He was killed, George had a gun and it went off in the fight after they had been discovered. Miranda and George were held until the magistrate could be found and then they were put on trial. We thought that they would be hanged, but Michael asked for the sentence to be that they be transported to Australia for their crimes. He didn’t think that Elizabeth would rest easy with their deaths on her conscience.  It has all taken so many months, we thought everything was settled until today. George will be a desperate man, everyone will understand if you want to leave, you must consider what we will be facing by staying here.”

“No!” Charlotte said firmly. “I would not dream of leaving now. You need the help of everyone here, and I will do whatever I can to help.”

“Thank you my dear, the more people there are around Elizabeth, the less likely it is that he will approach her.

Chapter 16

For a week after Stephen had attended Baron Kersal’s den of iniquity, he did not leave the house. His food intake was limited, but his brandy intake was steady. He rose late and refused to see anyone, he remained undressed and unshaven, something previously unheard of. Walter had watched his employer without comment, but had started to secretly dilute the brandy. He could do very little, but he was determined to try and prevent his master from drinking himself to death.

All the staff were worried, as his Lordship had always been in control. They may not have agreed with everything he did, and they all longed for the day when he would settle down, but they had not expected this. Walter had informed the key staff that Lord Halkyn had been refused in a marriage proposal and they all came to the correct conclusion that their employer was in love and suffering the consequences of rejection. The only person still in denial about being in love was Stephen himself.

He did not know what to do with himself. Until he had finished his business with Peters, there had been a purpose. He had said that he would seek revenge on Baron Kersal and that is what he had done. He could do no more. The problem was that once his task was complete, all he could think of was Charlotte and how she had refused his proposal. He was bitter and angry, but instead of doing his usual trick of going out to experience every social activity that polite society could offer and quite a few that it could not, he could not find the motivation to do anything. So, he sat at home, dwelling on a pair of green eyes in a beautiful face and tried to deaden any feeling by drinking himself into a stupor.

A week into this and the pain had subsided into a bitter case of self-pity, another emotion that Stephen was unused to feeling. He was withdrawing into himself and he did not know what to do to return to his former self. He questioned himself time and again, how could such a girl get under his skin so much? She was barely out of the schoolroom, he should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he had discovered that, but instead, he had been drawn to her, had found could not leave her, or forget her. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there, pulling those faces that showed each emotion she was thinking, or coming out with a comment that would surprise him and set him rocking on his heels, unsure of what to say in return.

Walter entered the study quietly; any slight noise gained an abusive outburst these days. He suppressed his frown as he approached Lord Halkyn, who was slumped in the chair, looking barely conscious.

“My Lord, a letter has arrived,” Walter said gently.

“Put it on the fire when you light it, it will have more use there,” Stephen slurred, not opening his eyes.

“I think it may be important, my Lord,” Walter persisted.

“Have you a hidden talent Walter?” Stephen asked, still slurring, but the sarcasm was clear. “Have you started being able to see through parchment, or do you just read my letters?”

“Neither, my Lord,” Walter responded calmly.

“Well then, throw the bloody thing away!” Stephen muttered angrily.

Walter decided to take another approach. “The letter has Lord Dunham’s seal.”

Stephen froze, opened his eyes slightly, but then shrugged. “There is no reason why Dunham would be contacting me.”

“Perhaps Lady Dunham is ill,” Walter suggested, purposely not mentioning the name both men were thinking about.

“She’s as strong as a horse, that one!” Stephen responded, but he had sat up in the chair and run his hands through his hair.

Walter decided to use the information that Stephen had muttered in one of his drunken rants about love, marriage and children. “Ladies who are in a delicate condition can sometimes ail more than they normally would. I do hope she is well. By all accounts she is a fine lady, but not to worry, I shall destroy the letter as you have requested, my Lord.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you could not be devious if your life depended on it?” Stephen muttered, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I believe that Napoleon did not fear for his country’s defeat when I offered to help with our nation’s defence,” replied Walter seriously.

“And instead I’ve been cursed with you,” Stephen muttered. “Give me the letter.”

Walter handed over the letter and waited while Stephen opened it and read its contents. He saw Stephen sit up further and grip the letter with more force. When he had read and reread, he crumpled the paper as he slammed his fist down. “Damn the man for being so bloody noble!” He cursed.

“My Lord?” Walter asked gently, almost regretting forcing the letter onto his employer.

“Bloody Dunham! Why couldn’t he be like the rest of us and want to see the people that wrong us hang for their crimes?” Stephen growled. “I need tea, Walter! I need to be able to think. Bring lots of tea!”

Walter left the room with a sense of relief. He was not sure of the contents, but its initial impact had been for his master to want to be sober, which was a step in the right direction.

*

Far too much tea later, along with some ham and bread, and though Stephen did not feel completely sober, his head was clearer than it had been for days. He pondered over what Michael’s letter had said.

There is no one else we would trust and with your recent involvement with Bow Street I hope it will give you an insight into how best to use them. Elizabeth is in real danger, this man has nothing to lose, he has lost everything and has no family left alive to my knowledge. For the first time in my life I am afraid of the consequences. If he should reach Elizabeth before we track him down..., these thoughts and worse have kept me sitting awake at her bedside since I received the news. Please find out what you can and send a reply at the earliest opportunity. He would not have initially known where Dunham Park was located, so I am presuming that his first approach would have been to the London house. Act quickly Halkyn, please.

Michael had enclosed full particulars of the dates that everything had happened, the trial and the sentence. He had finished by giving a full description of George.

Stephen had at first ranted at Michael’s stupidity. This is exactly why he did not want to tie himself to someone whom he loved; if they were ill or worse, how did one continue afterwards? His thoughts were that of someone defensive and still in denial. When he again looked over the letter, his concern for Elizabeth grew. Dunham had been a hit with the ladies in his prime, but one of his attractions was that he was confident about his abilities. He was not one to show fear or uncertainty in public.

Stephen realised the letter must have cost Michael a great deal of pride to write. His panic came through the words as clearly as if he was standing before Stephen and that was what caused the frown on Stephen’s face. Elizabeth was in danger and she was one of the most genuine people that he knew. He considered her a friend, her more than Dunham, and for that reason he would help all he could.

Charlotte had not been mentioned in the letter and it had frustrated Stephen, but he should not have expected it. A man almost out of his mind with worry over his wife and unborn child would not think of mentioning his house guest. Even if she was the last person that Stephen actually wanted to know about. She could even be engaged by now; Elizabeth had said that she was going to introduce her to Society. Well they would be welcome to her. He’d like to see what the gentlemen of Somerset thought of a Miss who was determined on romance, without a dowry to encourage it!

Stephen almost reached for the brandy bottle, but stilled as his hand touched it. If he started again he would be no help to Elizabeth. He owed her friendship enough to stay sober. He rang the bell and while waiting for Walter, scribbled out a note.

Walter entered the room and Stephen handed him the sealed letter.

“I need this delivering to Mr Peters tonight. Into his hand, and only into his hand, no matter where he is. Pay whoever or whatever you have to in order that he receives it. I am at home to Peters at whatever time he calls, day or night, and tell Lowe that I need to bathe, to have a change of clothes, and a shave!” Stephen commanded, rubbing his hand over his chin that had the evidence of almost a week worth of stubble.

“Yes my Lord,” Walter replied and left the room. He was going to brighten the day of Lowe the Valet, who had been in a decline since Lord Halkyn had refused to dress.

*

Peters had been shown into Stephen’s drawing room as the clock struck midnight. He had been hard to track down, but had been finally caught up with near the docks, not usually a place to be alone on a dark London night.

Stephen stood when the gentleman entered. “Thank you for coming,” he said, reaching out his hand in greeting. “I did not expect to be seeing you quite so soon again.”

“No my Lord,” Peters said. “I take it from your letter that this has nothing to do with the Kersal case?”

“No, although I hope that
that
matter will be drawing to a conclusion soon?” Stephen asked.

“It will, but we are waiting for the right moment before we act,” Peters replied, giving nothing away.

“Good,” came the quiet response. “You’d better sit down; I have a job that I hope you can help with,” Stephen said, and proceeded to tell Peters all of the details that had been in the letter. He did not show Peters the document, he felt that Dunham’s emotions were exposed in that letter and he did not want a stranger to see that.

Peters listened in his usual quiet way, interjecting questions when he needed clarification. At the end of Stephen’s tale, he thought for a moment. “I think Lord Dunham is correct, he will have gone to the house in London first. It is the easiest to reach, he must have escaped from the docks and he could just disappear into the crowds in London, whereas it would be far harder to do that in the country.”

“Do you think he will still be in London?” Stephen asked, knowing it was only a faint hope.

“It depends how long he decided to hide after he escaped from the ship. He wouldn’t want to hide for too long, especially if he has no money. I will start in the morning.”

“Will you question the staff?” Stephen asked.

“Not necessarily,” Peters replied with a hint of amusement in his eyes, but it did not quite reach his mouth. “He may not have approached the staff, but there are many other ways to find out if he has been near the house.”

Stephen nodded his head and the men parted. There was nothing else that Stephen could do but send out a short letter to let Dunham know that the search was in hand.

*

Peters returned to visit Stephen after two days. It had actually been a relatively easy task, but one that gave him no pleasure. He knew his news would increase concern, rather than reassure.

Stephen was in the study, it looked like he had been pacing when Mr Peters entered. He nodded to the gentleman to sit down and offered him refreshments. Mr Peters declined and took out his notebook, ready to relay the information he had gathered.

“George Watson, or a man very closely matching his description was seen in the area of Lord Dunham’s London house over three weeks ago,” Mr Peters said calmly.

Stephen took a long breath. “Three weeks? That must mean that he’s in Somerset by now,” he said grimly.

“It is a fair assumption my Lord,” Mr Peters responded. “He was seen watching the house and then fell in with a group of tramps that frequent the area. Their mornings are spent knocking on the basement doors asking for scraps of food. He spoke to some of the junior staff in the house. They did tell him about the family, and about Dunham Park.”

“Stupid idiots!” Stephen exploded. “Why on earth did they think that he was asking after the family? So he could call on them when they returned to town?”

“They are young girls of twelve, first time away from home and living in a large house. They are proud of the family they serve. It’s not an unusual question in any respects; the tramps would want to know if the families were at home or not.”

“What possible benefit would that information be to them?” Stephen asked.

“If the family are at home, there are more parties, which means more food, meaning more waste. They eat better when a family is in residence.”

“Oh.” Stephen was generous to charitable causes, but he had never thought of the practicality of needing to gather food on a day to day basis. “Did he give anything away?”

“Not really,” Mr Peters replied. “He mentioned that he had worked for Lady Dunham’s family in the north and was hoping that she would give him a job on her estate. He came across as a man down on his luck; he gave no other information, which is no surprise.”

“So, that was three weeks ago,” Stephen mused. “How long would it have taken him to reach Dunham Park?”

“Probably well over a week, he would have likely walked and probably at night. Let’s not forget he is a man on the run. If he was caught and his true identity discovered, he would be hanged.”

“Let’s hope that happened,” Stephen said gruffly.

“We would have heard,” Mr Peters said reasonably.

“He must be in the Somerset area,” Stephen said, a sinking feeling developing at the thought that Elizabeth was truly in danger. There was another niggle that would not subside, however he tried to ignore it. Charlotte was in that area, as was a man who was on the run and determined to damage the family in residence. Elizabeth was in danger, but Charlotte was also at risk because of her residence there.

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