The Folly (18 page)

Chapter
34

Elizabeth stood in the middle of her personal
drawing
room surrounded by fabrics and ribbons.   Hugh Brand had brought a respected seamstress from town to make it more convenient
,
and she was very grateful.   Mrs. Marvel seemed knowledgeable
,
and although some of her
styles were
not the latest trends from
Paris
and London, she was open to suggestions and eager to learn new things.  Jeremy had told her to order as much as she liked, but she was being
conservative
.  She would order a few evening gowns, a few
morning and
day gowns
,
and a riding habit
, as well as some undergarments and wider chemises and nightdresses for when her belly began to swell. 

Kitty had prove
n
a friendly and helpful girl, thrilled to be promoted to lady’s maid and eager to please.  What she lacked in knowledge
,
she made up for in enthusiasm
,
and they got on well together. Elizabeth enjoyed her company
, but missed Willa sorely.  H
er only other companions
for the moment
were Jeremy and Colonel Brand.  They had decided that it would be wise to refrain from
socializing
for a few months until the scandal died down.  Despite being introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Sutton, they kept their
c
hristian names
,
and someone with too much imagination could conceivably put two and two together. 

Elizabeth thanked the dressmaker and allowed Kitty to help her dress before heading in search of Jeremy
.
  Golden autumn sunshine poured through the windows
,
casting slanted squares of light on the floor of the hallway, dust motes swirling lazily in the shafts of sunlight.  The house seemed strangely empty
,
since the servants had finished their morning chores and retreated below stairs for the midday meal, leaving the upper floors deserted.  Luncheon wasn’t served upstairs until one o’clock
.  
Elizabeth
felt
anxious
as she
listened
to her steps echoing on the stone staircase leading to the ground floor. 
She checked the drawing room first
,
then
headed
to the library.  If Jeremy hadn’t gone out riding
,
he would surely be there. 

She found him sitting in a studded, leather armchair staring at the cold fireplace as if it held the mysteries of the Universe.  The
“
Newcastle Chronicle
”
was on the nearby table
,
next to a half-empty decanter of port and an empty glass.  Elizabeth came up behind Jeremy and
laid
her hands on his
shoulders
.  Jeremy
covered her hand with his
, finally tearing his gaze away from the empty hearth. 
Elizabeth
could smell the
liquor
on his breath as she bent down to kiss his cheek, trying to figure out his mood.

“Don’t you usually drink port after dinner?” she asked carefully, taking a seat in a chair opposite him
.

“It was the only thing to hand,” answered Jeremy sullenly, glancing at his empty glass in open disappointment. 

Elizabeth
felt a sudden panic deep in her belly.  As far as she knew
,
nothing happened to upset Jeremy, so maybe he was regretting his decision to run away with her.  She had no idea what the Colonel might have said to him, but anyone i
n
their right mind would point out the obvious drawbacks of running off with
their
father’s wife.  Maybe Jeremy suddenly realized what he had taken on
,
and was looking for a way to end it. 
  

“Jeremy, what’s on your mind?” she asked, sounding braver than she felt. 

“Simon.”

“Simon Manson?  Why?” 
Elizabeth
felt a wave of relief wash over her as she realized that Jeremy’s mood had nothing to do with her. 

“I was just reading the newspaper when I came across a short article about Simon.  He has been hanged a fortnight ago.  It took this long for the news to reach Newcastle.  I wouldn’t have even known if some minister didn’t take it upon himself to write a sermon on the evil of strong drink, citing Simon as a fine example of what can happen when one overindulges.”  Jeremy poured himself another drink and took a healthy swallow.

“Is that why you
’
re trying to drink yourself into insensibility?  I
’
m afraid you’ve lost me.  What has this to do
with Simon?”  Jeremy had mentioned his
friendship
with the gamekeeper’s son, but that was all she knew of the man.

“Right.  I forgot you didn’t know,” answered Jeremy
,
slightly
slurring his words.  “Simon got into a drunken brawl outside some tavern on the London docks
,
and wound up stabbing
a
man in front of a dozen witnesses.  He was arrested for attempted murder and
sent to
prison. 
The man, Alfie Nooks, died of his injuries last month, making Simon a murderer.  He
was
tried and sentenced to hang.  The brawl had been over spilled ale.  Now two men are dead because of this trivial argument that would have never happened had they been sober.”  With that Jeremy took another sip, making an even better case for sobriety.

“I am sorry about your friend, Jeremy,” Elizabeth said, getting up and removing the decanter from his reach.  “I think you’ve had enough.” 

Jeremy smiled at her sadly.  “I
’
ve watched thousands of men die, but this has cut me to the quick.  It’s such a stupid, pointless death.  I always hoped that we would see each other again.  I wish I could write to Silas to offer my sympathies, but of course, I can’t.  He must be heartbroken.
  Simon was all he had left.
”

“I
’
m sorry, Jeremy.  Is there anything I can do?” 
Elizabeth
asked, feeling helpless.

“Just come here.”  Jeremy pulled her onto his lap, kissing her temple and wrapping his arms around her.  “You are all I have, so don’t ever leave me.”  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Jeremy’s neck, kissing him tenderly.  “Never.”

Chapter
3
5

Hugh Brand re-read the letter before folding it, dripping a few globs of sealing wax onto the paper
,
and pressing his ring into it.  There, it was done.  He had his doubts about taking this step, but Rachel was right.  He couldn’t let Jeremy stay too long.  He
’
d known Jeremy Flynn long enough to know that not much got past him
,
and that sooner or later
,
he would start to piece things together.  When he
received
Jeremy’s letter informing him of the impending visit, he assumed that Jeremy would only stay for a few days
, but n
ow that he knew the truth of the matter, everything had changed. 

With winter around the corner and Elizabeth with child, they wouldn’t be able to leave until spring at the earliest
,
and Hugh could not afford to have them stay so long.  Rachel was already putting pressure on him
,
and they
’
d only been in Newcastle for a couple of weeks. 
Something had to be done.  He could hardly ask them to leave after offering his hospitality, but if something happened to force their hand, it would be very convenient.

Hugh had debated writing to Sir Henry for several days, but eventually he came around to the idea.  Let him deal with his troublesome wife and his wife’s bastard.  Whatever he chose to do, it would get the Flynns out of Hugh’s hair
,
and that was the ultimate goal.  He didn
’
t want to see them hurt, just gone.  Hugh had worked too hard and taken too many risks to be undone by unexpected circumstances.  The sooner Jeremy and Elizabeth
left
, the better. 

Hugh locked the sealed letter in a draw
er
of his massive walnut desk
,
and left the room.  He would post the letter tomorrow when he went into Newcastle, but right now he had to go dress for dinner.  He was sharing his valet with Jeremy, which also made him nervous.  Jenkins had been well
-
trained and knew his place, but an innocent comment could do a lot of harm when made to the wrong person.  Jeremy had been one of the best intelligence officers in Wellington’s army
,
and information that
might seem random to most people
,
could start Flynn on a trail that would lead to Hugh’s ruin. 
The Colonel sighed as he made his way up the stairs.  He didn’t like what he had to do.  Betraying many faceless people was much easier than betraying a friend.

Chapter
3
6

Jeremy slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Elizabeth, and threw on his dressing gown against the chill of the room.   He had no idea what time it was, so he went through the connecting door into his own bedroom and lit a candle, consulting the clock on the mant
e
l.  It was nearly 6a
.
m
.
and the world outside was still quiet and dark, the bright orb of the moon
still
holding court in the inky sky.  He had some time before dawn, but he felt terribly restless and couldn’t go back to bed. 

The valet
assigned to him by Hugh
was most likely still asleep, so Jeremy dressed himself and made his way downstairs.  He longed to go for a ride, but the grooms were not up yet
,
and if he helped himself to a horse from the stables they would no doubt think that there was a horse thief about and go at him with pitchforks in the dark
ness
.  The only other option was to walk, so Jeremy slipped through the gates and turned toward the old mill.  The place was about an hour away
,
and would give him plenty of time to think things through. 

Jeremy filled his lungs with the cool morning air, enjoying the scent of pine and damp earth.  It had rained during the night, leaving the world fresh and clean.  Jeremy turned onto the wooded track and walked briskly, his footsteps silent on the dirt road.  He could see lights beginning to flicker in the windows of the farmers’ cottages
down in the valley below
,
as they began to rise and go about their morning tasks.  Dawn would come very soon and with it, decisions. 

Jeremy had not survived ten years of war without learning to listen to his instincts
,
and right now
,
his instincts were telling him that something was afoot.  Two incidents might be a coincidence, but three spoke of intent
,
and Jeremy didn
’
t believe in coincidences anyway.  He had done intelligence work during his time in the army
,
and knew that things usually had a connection, no matter how obscure. 

The first incident had been his conversation with Cyril Dawes.  The man had managed the Brand estate since the days of Hugh’s father
,
and knew everything there was to know about the history of the place.  He
’
d proudly taken Jeremy on a tour of the estate
,
mentioning
in passing that the estate had been suffering financially for nearly two decades.  Hugh’s father had been a gambler and had lost large sums of money, especially after his wife died
and there was
no one
to restrain him
.  Parcels of land had
been
sold off to pay his debts
, drastically reducing the size of the estate
and
infuriating
Hugh
. 

Dawes was pleasantly surprised when the Colonel came back from the Continent
eight
months ago
,
and poured a vast sum into the estate, finally getting things back on track.  Cottages were repaired, new equipment was
acquired
,
and several acres had been bought back from the new owners
;
who were only too happy to make a handsome profit on the sale.  This information in itself meant little, but Jeremy suddenly remembered
the conversation with
Dawes after his trip to Newcastle last week. 

Jeremy had ridden into town to look for a pair of gloves for Elizabeth.  She
’
d lost her favorite pair
,
and he wanted to surprise her. 
He
was just about to enter the haberdashery shop
,
when he
noticed
a beautiful woman coming out of a milliner’s establishment across the street.  The woman was immaculately dressed in a maroon velvet walking suit
and matching hat,
and followed by a maid carrying several hat boxes.  Jeremy quickly turned away, watching the woman’s reflection in the shop window.  He’d know that face anywhere
.  H
e was in no doubt that the woman getting into the
gleaming
carriage was no other than Rachel Hilson.  She
’
d certainly come up in the world, but the woman beneath the velvet and feathers was still the same one he
had known
in the army. 

Rachel had never forgiven him for Hasting’s death despite the fact that she was the one who forced the confrontation between them.  Losing Hastings had been the beginning of her downward spiral that started with taking gifts from various lovers to becoming a full-fledged whore.  Jeremy had very little to do
with her
after the court
-
martial of Josiah Hastings and his subsequent hanging, but Hugh Brand had been a frequent visitor in her tent. 
Seeing Rachel playing the lady in
Newcastle so close to Hugh’s family seat was no coincidence.  She was here for a reason
and he would be very surprised if that reason did not have something to do with the Colonel
.
  If Rachel Hilson and Hugh Brand were in contact, then it was safe to assume that Rachel would know of his presence in the area and the reason for it and that didn’t bode well for him or Elizabeth. 

Jeremy abandoned his plan to buy gloves and went on a
n impromptu
reconnaissance mission, following the carriage on foot.  The street was congested with traffic
, so
it was easy to keep a respectable distance
without losing sight of
the vehicle. 
He followed the carriage for about ten minutes until it stopped
in front of a prosperous looking house on a leafy side street
.  Jeremy
stepped behind a thick tree
to
avoid being
seen
as Rachel alighted from the carriage
.  Rachel had a good memory
,
and would remember him if she caught sight of him strolling down her street.
  He remained hidden until Rachel was safely inside the house
,
then crossed the street and walked away.

Jeremy found a pub nearby and ordered a
tankard of ale
, settling on a stool by the bar.  The place was nearly empty
, so drawing
the publican into conversation
required very little effort
.  The man was polishing glasses behind the bar
, using a dirty rag that no doubt left them dirtier before his efforts than after, and
was only too happy to have a bit of company while he completed his tedious task.  They talked of the war and Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, raising a glass to Wellington.  Jeremy didn
’
t mention
his own presence at
the battle, preferring to keep a low profile and awaiting his opportunity
, which
finally came when there was a lull in the conversation. 

“I
’
m
actually
new to town
,
and I was wondering where a man
might
find a spot of female company
around here
?”  Jeremy asked, lowering his eyes in mock embarrassment.

“Well now, that depends on
the
kind of company you like to keep, guv.  There are plenty of brothels by the docks, catering to sailors,
and
shipbuilders and such, but you look like someone who would prefer something a little classier. 
Am I right?”  The barkeep chuckled, proud of himself for being such a good judge of human nature.  “
There are a few places more appropriate for a gentleman
, such as yourself
. 

There is Mabel’s and Madame Abigail’s on the other side of town, but the closest one would be Madam
e
Rachel’s.  It’s fairly new to these parts, so I don’t know too much about it.  I hear it’s very exclusive
,
and her girls are young and clean.  No poxed whores for the clients of Madam
e Rachel.  She is very selective
about who she lets in.
Has some thug masquerading as a footman manning the door.
I wouldn’t know nothing about it, ‘xept some gentlemen came in here
foxed the other night
, complaining about being turned away
none too gently
.  Told never to return, they were, so the lady can afford to turn clients away.  Very posh, indeed.
  I reckon she’s got a wealthy benefactor.
” 

“I
’
m much obliged.  Sounds just like the kind of place I am looking for.  I don’t mind telling you, I’ll gladly pay a little extra for girls that are young and clean.  Can’t abide aging whores.”  Jeremy made a face to illustrate his disgust and drained the last of his ale. 

“I
’
m with you, guv.  A man has to be careful where he sticks i
t
, aye?”  The barkeep laughed, giving Jeremy a knowing look.  Jeremy strongly suspected that he actually wasn’t that picky with where he stuck it, but he laughed along with the barman and set his empty tankard on the bar. 
The publican offered Jeremy a refill, but he politely refused and wished the man a good day. 
He got what he came for.

**

The sky began to grow lighter at last, the sun shyly peeking from behind gr
a
y clouds, as
Jeremy neared the old mill.  He could hear the sounds of splashing water as it poured out of the lazily turning wheel
,
and sat down on the low stone wall watching the sun begin its ascent above the horizon.  Bird song erupted all around him
as
he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the
tranquil
moment, before returning to his
less than peaceful
thoughts.

Hugh had returned home from the Continent several months before the climactic battle that ended the war
, having come
across a French patrol on the way back from on
e
of his missions
.   He had been shot
several times
while trying to outrun the patrol
,
barely making
it back to camp
,
before collapsing from
loss of blood.  A weaker man might have died, but Hugh Brand had the constitution of an ox
,
and managed to pull through under the vigilant care of Wellington’s own physician.  Once he was well enough to travel, he was discharged from the army and returned to his home in Newcastle, ready to take up the reins
of the estate
after his father’s death.  According to the estate manager, Brand
poured vast sums of money into the estate, restoring it to former glory very quickly. 

It would also seem that n
ot long after Hugh’s return, Rachel Hilson turned up in Newcastle, setting up an exclusive brothel
;
catering to wealthy gentlemen.  She had also acquired wealth rather suddenly and chose to settle a few miles from the Colonel.  Coincidence?  Definitely not.  Hugh had
n’
t mentioned anything about seeing Rachel, so he obviously made a point of keeping it
a
secret from Jeremy.  Hugh left the house at 9:30
p
.
m
.
every Tuesday and Friday, supposedly to visit his married mistress, and didn
’
t return until well past midnight.  If Jeremy’s suspicions were correct, he was going to Madame Rachel’s establishment, but he needed to be sure. 

On Tuesday night
,
Jeremy claimed a headache and went up to bed early, locking the connecting door to
Elizabeth
’s room in case she came searching for him.  Taking a horse from Hugh’s stable would draw attention to his plan, so he snuck out by the servants’ entrance and went to Newcastle on foot, keeping to the wooded areas to avoid being seen.  He got to Rachel’s street well after 11
p
.
m
.
and positioned himself behind the useful oak
, but he still had to wait nearly an hour
before
he saw Archie pull the
curricle
up in front of the house and Hugh come out
of the house
looking very pleased. 

It took
Jeremy
another two hours to walk back to the house, but despite being tired
,
he couldn’t
get to
sleep. 
As he listened
to
the ticking of the clock on the mant
e
l
,
another piece of information surfaced in his mind.  A portrait of Hugh’s late mother hung in a position of prominence on the first
floor
landing.  She had been a woman of exquisite beauty
;
whose intelligent
gr
a
y
eyes and fine bone structure were clearly visible in her son’s face.  Genevieve Brand had been French, making Hugh Brand half-French.  That in itself didn
’
t make him a traitor, but it was yet another red flag in a situation wh
ere
nothing was black
-
and
-
white and where there was smoke, there was usually fire, in Jeremy’s experience.