The Daughter of Highland Hall (29 page)

Should she consider something more than friendship with Jon? Her aunt seemed to think he might be interested in her, but he’d never said as much to Kate.

And what about Edward? He’d seemed so sincere at the ball. But why hadn’t he tried to see her or at least written? Would he really allow her family troubles to end their romance before it had even begun?

FIFTEEN
 

Jon glared at his face in the mirror, then turned away with a disgusted huff. His left eye was practically swollen shut, and red bruises spread across his cheek and jaw. There was no way he would be able to hide the events of last night from anyone.

He had planned to rise early and slip out before breakfast, hoping the evidence of his injuries would lessen by evening. But he’d overslept, and it took him longer than usual to wash and dress. And judging by his image in the mirror, it would take several days for the bruises to fade even a little.

He stifled a groan, closed his bedroom door, and set off down the hall. But each step was a painful reminder of the beating he had taken last night. He dreaded going downstairs. No doubt everyone would question him, and he’d have to repeat the story several times.

Kate stepped out of her bedroom as he crossed the upper landing. He tensed and looked her way. “Good morning, Kate.”

“Good morn—” Her warm greeting turned into a startled gasp. “Jon, what happened?”

He lifted his hand to his jaw. “I ran into a bit of trouble last night.”

“Was it Charlie Gibbons?” She hurried to join him at the top of the stairs.

“No. It wasn’t Charlie.”

“My goodness, it looks painful.” She moved closer. “Your eye is so swollen. Can you see?”

Her scrutiny made him flush. “I’ll be all right in a day or two.”

“What about Helen? Were you able to take her to Dr. Pittsford’s?”

He wished he had better news for her on that point, but perhaps he should tell her the whole story. “We arrived at Bartlett Court around five and knocked on Helen’s door, but no one answered. So we waited by the entrance to the alley until after eight. We were both hungry by that time, so
Theo walked down to a pub to buy something to eat. He’d only been gone a minute when two men ran out of the alley and jumped me.”

Kate’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Jon, that’s dreadful! Are you sure one of them wasn’t Charlie?”

“Yes. The light was dim, but I saw them both clearly.” He ran his hand over his bruised jaw. “One was about the same age as Charlie, but he was tall and thin. The other was older, maybe forty, but he was built like a prizefighter. When I refused to hand over my wallet, the tall one held my arms, while the other man emptied my pockets. I put up a fight, but they knocked me out and made off with my money and the watch my father gave me before I left India.”

Kate’s eyes flashed. “That’s dreadful!”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I never saw Helen.” He steeled himself and glanced at Kate again, expecting to read disappointment in her expression.

But a warm light shone in her eyes. “You tried, Jon, and I’m grateful.”

Kate’s gentle words eased his frustration, but he was still bothered that he’d been careless and caught off guard.

“Did anyone try to help you when you were attacked?”

“No, but when I came to, a small crowd had gathered around.” Jon frowned as he recalled the circle of faces looking down on him. “A man who owns a bakery across the street saw the men running away. He urged me to go to the police, but I didn’t think that would do any good. Theo arrived and took me back to the clinic to clean up. Then we walked down to Dr. Pittsford’s house. He insisted on examining me, and Mrs. Pittsford wouldn’t let us leave until she fed us dinner.”

“What did Dr. Pittsford say about your injuries?”

“He was concerned, but he says I’ll heal in a few days.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He squared his shoulders. “This proves my point, Kate. The East End is no place for a young lady, especially at night. You can see why I didn’t want to take you there.”

She met his gaze. “Yes, and it also proves how important it is that we move Helen to a safer location as soon as possible.”

“Yes, but how to do it, that’s the question.”

“Perhaps we should contact the police.”

“I’m not sure they would help us. No law has been broken.”

“I thought attacking a man and robbing him was a crime.”

“It is, but I don’t believe the attack was related to our efforts to help Helen.”

“Well, we have to do something.”

“Give me a day or two, then Theo and I will go again and search for Helen, but this time we’ll stay together.”

Kate stilled, watching him. Her anxiety was clear, but there seemed to be something more. Was it … tenderness? “You’ve already taken one beating. I wouldn’t want that to happen again.”

A rush of warmth flooded his chest, and though it was painful, he offered a half smile. “Thank you, Kate. Your concern is a great comfort.”

Then he took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed her soft and warm fingers.

Her eyes widened, and a pretty pink flush filled her cheeks.

Penny opened her bedroom door and hurried down the hall toward them. Kate slipped her hand from Jon’s and turned toward her sister.

Jon glanced away, hoping to shield his injuries from Penny for a few more moments.

“Oh, good. I thought I was the only one who was late this morning.” Penny met them at the top of the stairs.

Jon steeled himself and turned to face Penny.

She gasped. “Oh, Jon, were you in an accident?”

“No, I was robbed last night.”

“Oh, my goodness! That’s terrible! Where did it happen? Start at the beginning, and tell me everything.”

Jon exchanged one more glance with Kate, then started down the steps with Penny, repeating the story once more.

Lydia sank onto her bed and finally let her tears flow down her cheeks.
Why, Lord? How could You let this happen? We’ve made all the arrangements to help Helen, and now she’s disappeared again
.

Miss Katherine had called Lydia into the bedroom after breakfast and told her what had happened the night before.

Ann walked through the doorway. “Oh, Lydia, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Lydia blotted her cheeks with a handkerchief.

Ann moved to Lydia’s side. “I don’t believe that. Come on, now. Tell me what’s made you cry.”

Lydia released a heavy sigh. “My sister is missing again.”

“Oh no, really?”

Lydia gave a defeated shrug. “It seems that way. Mr. Foster went to her flat last night and waited by her door for hours, but she never came back. We were hoping he could take her away from that terrible place, but while he was waiting, some men jumped him, then beat him up and stole his money.”

“Oh, so that’s why Mr. Foster is sporting a black eye this morning. I didn’t think he was the kind to get into a tussle at a pub.”

“No, he’s a kind, God-fearing man.”

Ann clicked her tongue. “What a shame.”

“Yes, and all that for nothing. Helen’s gone, and I’m afraid it’s for good this time.”

“But she sent you that letter. Maybe she’ll write again.”

Lydia shook her head. “That awful man she’s with doesn’t want her to write to anyone.”

Ann’s brow creased. “How could she get mixed up with someone like that?”

“She longed to leave the farm, and I’m afraid she listened to her heart and not her head.”

“Do you think Mr. Foster will go back and search for her?”

“Miss Katherine says he will, but I’m afraid it’s too late.” Tears burned Lydia’s eyes, and she clutched her handkerchief.

“You mustn’t give up.” Ann took hold of Lydia’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “She knows where to find you, and there’s always hope.”

Lydia’s chin trembled. “I used to believe that, but I just don’t know anymore.”

The door squeaked open and Mrs. Adams looked in. Both girls sucked in a sharp breath and stood to face the housekeeper.

“I wondered where you two were.” Kindness rather than a reprimand shone in her eyes. “What seems to be the problem?”

Lydia swallowed. “I was telling Ann about my sister, Helen.” She shared a brief version of the story with the housekeeper.

Mrs. Adams listened patiently. “I can see why you’re upset, and I’m sorry to hear it.”

Lydia dabbed her nose with the handkerchief. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“There’s only one thing to do in a case like this.”

“What’s that?”

“Pray, of course. God knows the best way to help your sister. Let’s ask Him to watch over her and help us to trust Him while we wait for His answer.” Mrs. Adams smiled and tipped her head. “Shall I pray?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d be ever so grateful.” Lydia bowed her head and closed her eyes tight. As she listened to Mrs. Adams’s prayer, her fears began to fade and courage began to build. All was not lost. She must hold on to hope and trust that the answer was on the way.

A light breeze blew up the Chelsea Embankment of the Thames and ruffled the netting on Kate’s light-blue hat. She searched the faces of the crowd strolling across the grounds of the Royal Hospital. The number of people attending the Royal Horticultural Society Exhibit was much larger than Kate expected, still she didn’t see anyone she knew, and no one had stopped to greet her or Aunt Louisa.

“Keep your eyes open.” Her aunt tilted her parasol to gain a better view of those approaching them on the path. “The king and queen always attend the exhibition, and we don’t want to miss an opportunity to see them.” Two
women walked toward them. Louisa nodded as they passed, but they both looked away.

Her aunt huffed and collapsed her parasol. “How rude! I’ve known Lillian Stevenson more than twenty years. She could at least acknowledge us.”

Kate sighed. When was her aunt going to accept that most of their friends and acquaintances did not want to speak to them now that David’s connection with the Martindales had been splashed across the front page of every newspaper in town?

She followed her aunt into the next large white tent, thankful to be in the shade. Floral arrangements of every size and color filled the tables spread out around the tent, and the scent of freshly cut flowers floated in the air.

Her aunt pursed her lips and inspected a large bouquet of roses, peonies, and lilacs in the center of the closest table. “I don’t know why this arrangement won an award. The colors and scale are not nearly as pleasant as that one at the end.” Barely stopping for a breath, her aunt continued giving her opinion about the other arrangements and the judges’ decisions, interspersed with criticisms of the clothing and hairstyles of those they passed.

Kate silently scolded herself for folding to her aunt’s insistence that she come along today. She would’ve much rather gone riding with Jon this morning and then volunteered at the clinic in the afternoon. That certainly would’ve been more enjoyable than walking through tents filled with floral exhibits and being ignored by everyone they passed.

Her conversations with Jon over the past few days flooded her mind, and the memory of his kiss on her hand stirred her heart. Their friendship seemed to be deepening and moving toward romance—if she would allow it.