Finding Bliss (20 page)

“Away with you now! Don’t go leaving us your salty antics. I’m
a busy man with real criminals to sort. If you really are from Osterburg’s
house, you should go and have his guards find the girl. They’d be better
anyway, being better acquainted. And if you can’t find the house I’m inclined
to believe you aren’t telling me the truth!” the constable said haughtily.

“But sir, I’ve told you. We’re only visiting! I’m not
familiar,” Pauline wailed.

Her body wracked with panic and wretchedness. A guard
looking on seemed to have compassion for her. She demanded in a quaking voice
to have the constable’s name, and he told her to leave or he’d put her in the
stocks.

Pauline grew pale at the suggestion of imprisonment. She
hurried away from the building, intent on making every effort to retrace their
path that morning. But before getting even five steps from the office, Pauline
collapsed in a heap against the side of the building in defeat.

Who was she kidding? She had no sense of direction, and she
often failed to pay attention to details whenever she was following Bliss
around. Her mistress was so self-assured she rarely needed guidance no matter
where they traveled.

A short while later, the compassionate guard exited the
building and noticed her sitting in a ball near the base of the building’s
corner. He sidled up to her curiously.

“Pardon me, miss. I’m so sorry for your trouble. The
constable is not usually so off-putting. He’s got a gouty constitution and
hates when people pull scams on others. I’m Rex, by the way,” and he offered
her his hand.

Pauline was quietly crying, but she nodded and took the
offered palm against her own. Rex used the leverage to pull the pretty maid
upward.

“Tell me again, who you’re looking for?” he asked giving her
a wordless appraisal.

“Lady Penwood. Lady Bliss is her familiar title. She’s very
special to them. They’ll murder me when they realize what’s happened, but I
need to tell them before it’s too late! I fear a ransom demand might be
forthcoming, and I want them prepared,” Pauline wailed.

“Now, now, miss, don’t worry your head. I’ll help you. Tell
me what the name of the estate is, and I might take you,” Rex said simply.

“If you’ll take me to Whisper Chase I’ll give you every coin
in my and my mistress’s reticules. I’ll even throw in a liberty if you’ll
hurry, sir!” Pauline said quickly, her eyes suddenly fired with hope.

“Ah, a liberty from a pretty lady is offer enough for me,
miss. Let’s get moving. The street we need is Severn Street. It’s alongside the
inlet to Bristol Bay, near the shipyards,” Rex explained as he offered her his
arm.

Pauline dabbed her eyes with her apron and nodded, accepting
his arm and allowing him to lead her at a brisk clip toward the west. She
offered information of her own.

“Lord Osterburg is a ship captain, retired and has a portion
of one of the largest shipping companies in England. My own employer is the
other percent’s owner. He’s quite a powerful man. Your constable’s name is mud
when he finds out what that man did when I asked for his help!” Pauline said
hotly, though her sniffling killed the effect completely.

“Good, I was looking for a promotion,” Rex said with a grin.

Rex walked so fast, Pauline was fearful that her shoes would
ignite from the friction of her steps trying to keep up with the large man. But
she was joyful when the gates to Whisper Chase suddenly loomed in the distance.

“There it is! The butler will know me! His name is Mundy. I
am so grateful to you,” Pauline cried, suddenly moving faster than her new
acquaintance to gain access to the gate and grounds. Rex, keeping pace with her
every step, insisted on escorting her to the door.

The Osterburg’s, Dr. Eric Benchley,
Bristol, April 1811

It was nearing seven when Penelope
realized neither Bliss nor Dr. Benchley had arrived. Penelope searched for
Ozzie in the hopes that she merely missed some vital message of either. Ozzie
was in his study when she finally located him.

“Daniel, I’m beginning to worry. Bliss hasn’t returned, and
she left me a message for Dr. Benchley. He was supposed to meet and escort her
and Pauline back from their afternoon excursion. Have you any word?” Penelope
asked fervently.

“No, I’ve been in my study these last two hours at least,
and no one has come through the door. Maybe you misunderstood her. She’s an odd
duck, after all,” Ozzie said absently running his finger down a column of
figures on the ledger open in front of him.

“Well, I know she was fairly certain about Dr. Benchley’s
coming. She left him a note telling directions and how to find her and Pauline.
Maybe …” Penelope stopped abruptly at the sound of a knock from the door in the
foyer.

“That’s probably the good doctor now. See, you worried
needlessly, I’m sure.” Ozzie looked up briefly to grin at her before returning
to his task. Penelope went out to greet the visitor.

“Dr. Eric Benchley, my lady,” Mundy
said in his quiet announcement. Penelope stepped eagerly toward Eric to offer
her hand.

“I’ve come to visit with Lady Bliss, my lady. I was hoping
she wouldn’t be cross. I have been tied up with a patient and unable to get
free any earlier,” Eric explained sheepishly.

“But Bliss isn’t in. I had rather hoped you were already
escorting her and her maid back from their outing. She assured me that you
would come by and go out to meet with them. She left a note for you in case you
missed one another,” Penelope said, worry creasing her features as she dug in
her pocket for the note.

Penelope offered the small piece of parchment to Eric. As he
accepted the letter his face was puzzled.

“Did she not wait? She made me all but promise to come by
today.” This was unlike the girl he knew.

“The note is supposed to explain how you can locate her,
sir. I was hoping this would take place hours ago. Now I’m worried.” Penelope’s
demeanor was fretful. Eric offered her a smile.

“I’ll read the note and set off to retrieve her. It’s very
like her to leave a trail of directives when she’s got a plan in the works, you
should know. I’m sure it’s just one of her usual schemes to put me in my
necessary place to suit her bidding. Don’t worry,” Eric offered a smile. Penelope
seemed to relax, but there was still a hint of doubt in her eyes.

Teasing the wax seal from the paper, Eric unfolded the
message and read it to himself.

“Eric—I will be waiting for you near the museum. I’m
afraid my directions cannot possibly be more instructive as that would be a
mistake. I can only ask that before you search for me you reach back into your
memory and find a conversation we had when I was five and you were ten. The
clue is to remember an important detail about me that will tell you where to
find me. I will be in the least likely place you would expect. That’s as much
as I can provide, I’m sorry.

“If I gave any other information the results would not
be in my favor or anyone else’s, so please focus on that long-ago conversation.
It was the same day that I saved Russ’s life. The day he vomited on your
trousers when I clearly warned you prior. Good luck, and please don’t delay in
your search.—Your good friend, Bliss”

Eric had to reread the note several times to understand the
message within. It was frustrating beyond words what she was trying to do.

Why can’t she ever just tell the straight message? Why does
everything have to be coded with her?

But before he could let himself get close to anger Eric
stopped. Bliss said she wanted him to visit her today. She made a point of getting
his word. So why wasn’t she here if she knew he would come? That was the
puzzler.

Bliss never changed her mind about anything, so sure of her
results almost all of the time. So the fact that she wasn’t here was chilling. Eric
quickly made farewells to the Osterburg’s and set out on foot toward the
museum.

When he arrived he found few people still lurking about in
the waning twilight. One young man seemed to be searching for something. He stopped
the man and asked if he perhaps had any messages for him from Lady Bliss Penwood.
The man looked positively aghast.

“You are the second person this evening that has been
looking for that particular young lady, sir. Another woman, claiming to be her
ladies’ maid, was positively frantic an hour or so ago. She seemed to suspect
foul play. I put the guards to searching since that time, but so far no one has
seen or heard anything,” said the young man, now looking more than a little
concerned.

Eric suddenly realized what must have happened.

“You do understand that the missing woman is one of the
wealthiest heiresses in England? What has been attempted to recover her? Has
the constable been alerted?” Eric all but shouted at the man.

The young man paled and instantly began shouting at others
in the vicinity. One of the fleetest footed guards was instantly dispatched to
alert the constable. Deep within the recesses of his subconscious Eric knew
that Bliss was in danger. He remembered the message, now tucked within the
pocket of his coat. The message was about an unlikely place.

Eric did his best to recall the conversation, so faint in
his memory, from when they were children. But his mind wouldn’t let him focus
on such nonsense when help was more clearly the need.

Oddly he remembered the woman they dined with the week before.
Her husband was supposed to be the curator for this museum. Maybe he could be
of service in locating Bliss?

Eric thought about searching the museum for unlikely places
she might be hidden or being held against her will, but that was also too
likely since it had nothing whatsoever in keeping with her childhood warning
about vomit. Then, like an eerie mental alarm, he realized what it meant.

The reminder of the vomiting incident was to reinforce my
belief!

Then another deduction hit him like a brick.

Is she telling me so little because she’s unclear about
specifics?

All at once her strange warnings seemed very clear.

Like a flash, Eric remembered a snippet of their
conversation after she had pulled her wounded brother from the lake on the
estate.

Something to do with why she had saved him? No, something to
do with why saving him was so traumatic. Bliss didn’t like swimming in the lake
because she couldn’t see the bottom! That was the gist of it, wasn’t it? Why on
earth was that supposed to be helpful to him?

Eric imagined several places where she might be at that
moment. A storage room, perhaps? A cellar? Were those places where she couldn’t
see where her feet were supposed to go? The moment the proper thought hit him
it nearly sent him to his knees in abject misery.

Water! But which would it be? Was it the Frome River, the
Avon River, Bristol Bay, the Severn? There were too many bodies of water within
walking distance of the museum!

Bliss, Bristol, April 1811

Bliss knew it had to be nearing
nightfall. Her arms were now numb from being stuck in the uncomfortable
position for so long. She gave up on her captor returning any sooner than well
past the time when her needs would become urgent.

Her body soon began jerking in response to its stationary
hold. Just when it was getting to the point of prickling pain, she heard the
door lock rattle.

Westford entered with the smallest stub of a candle to light
his way. He quickly relit the candles in the candelabrum one by one. Then he
paced back and forth before her in agitation.

“Have you had enough time to think of what I want?”

As he asked the question, a new set of visions came into
view inside her mind. He was planning to move her soon. The red cloth was
featured in many possible scenarios as the visions slowly came into focus,
usually as a gag to keep her quiet. She cleared her dry throat and answered
him, still focused on the many variations of her coming fate.

“I’ve told you, Lord Westford. There isn’t anything to
tell.” Bliss felt her eyes grow heavy and grainy, probably due to the fatiguing
stress and anxiety. Lord Westford’s face switched to anger.

“Your continued silence in this manner is most displeasing
to me. I will get what I want from you at any cost to your person, you know? I’m
not staying in that museum for much longer! I only do it for the connections.

“The percent’s of my title are so poor they won’t allow me
to move in certain circles without recognition. But I have much better hobbies
I’d prefer to pursue. The information you give me will get me out of my mundane
life and into circles where I belong!” he hissed.

Bliss realized that her life was in grave danger, based on
the latest vision of Lord Westford’s hobbies. Mostly they included gambling,
leisure and ruining young women against their will. So many scenes rushed into
her brain that she felt sick from their frantic speed as they flashed by.

Bliss knew withholding information now would be a big
mistake. So she searched her brain for anything useful to tell him that
wouldn’t agitate him. She also tried to keep the information open to
interpretation, just in case he managed to escape his eventual capture. Her
life would be lost in vain if he were to profit anything at her expense.

“Industry is the future. People will discover many advances
in the coming turn of the century. Someday soon, money will become more
powerful than even hereditary titles, though your own son will manage both,
even after the scandal. Your wife will not remarry, either.”

Bliss stopped abruptly when she realized that what seemed insignificant
was in fact very telling. Realizing too late her mistake, she suddenly grew
pale at the thought of his coming anger.