“Then we must consider the possibility someone took her for more nefarious purposes.”
Bile boiled in Julian’s stomach and burned in his throat as he fought to contain the revolting images. Would any man...? Oh, yes. “If Fleming weren’t already dead, he would be my foremost suspect.”
Leah’s face blanched as she ripped her gaze away to stare out the window. The dark ribbons of her new bonnet—a farewell gift from Lady Langstern—contrasted with the pale skin of her cheek. London had faded behind them, leaving only snow-covered fields on the horizon. “You didn’t hear from the magistrate or Lady Sotherton about an arrest for Fleming’s murder?”
“No. Killiane yet maintains his innocence on that score. So as far as I know, Fleming’s death remains a mystery.”
“I don’t know that Fleming deserved to die, but he most definitely deserved any distrust thrown his way. Unfortunately there are others of his ilk.”
Julian leaned across the space between them and covered Leah’s hand with his. “What did he do?” He hated forcing her to confront the sordid details of her past, but he needed to know if he was to find Caro.
Silence wrapped around them, interrupted only by the steady clomp of the horses and swish of the wheels. “He trapped me in his bedchamber. I knew if I cried out, my reputation would be destroyed.”
Was this the reason she had rejected him? Fresh anger, fed by new worries for Caro, mingled with heartbreak—for her, for him, for Caro. “Caro would cry out. She wouldn’t understand the need for such restraint.” Unlike a poor governess for whom even a suggestion of scandal would be grounds for dismissal.
“I was desperate. I grabbed the fireplace poker, and...”
“Ah, the injury to Fleming’s head three years ago. Elizabeth mentioned it to the magistrate. Good for you!” Poor Caro would never be so quick-witted. “That’s how you lost your comb.”
“I suppose it fell out of my hair in the melee. I looked later but never found it.”
“During Caro’s explorations, she discovered a locket and ribbon and other baubles among Fleming’s affects. The magistrate presumed them to be gifts, but perhaps Fleming collected such objects from his victims.”
“I lived in constant fear afterward. Fortunately Fleming never disclosed what happened.”
“No man wants to admit to being bested by a woman.”
“I suppose not. He preferred tormenting me as his form of revenge. I knew it was only a matter of time until he succeeded in either assaulting me or seeing me dismissed. Probably both.” A wry smile curved one corner of her mouth. “How ironic that with his death, he succeeded in the latter.”
“And left you with no means to support yourself.” Or the mysterious “someone else” whose needs had prompted her foray into treason. “Both for you and your...?”
“Sister. I support my sister.”
“Your sister?” Julian recoiled against the back of the carriage seat. “I thought she was dead.”
“Her mind is.”
Like Caro? “I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do. Phoebe is...seriously unwell. She lives in an asylum not far from Rowan Abbey. A good place—as these things go. One where the female inmates...”
“Aren’t subject to the base lusts of men like Fleming.” An asylum. How many times had well-meaning friends and spiteful rivals suggested such a place for Caro rather than burden the family with her existence? At least the DeChambelles had the means to provide for Caro’s care at home. How different for Leah. No wonder she kept her sister’s very existence a secret. The last clue to the Leah Vance mystery emerged. Like her care for Teresa, like her concern for Caro, love for her sister had impelled Leah’s actions—fear that unscrupulous attendants would subject her sister to the exploitation she had so nearly suffered herself. She strove so mightily to protect others. If only she could trust him to do likewise for her.
“Alas, such situations cost dearly. By last year Phoebe’s expenses had exhausted my father’s legacy, and my governess’s salary didn’t cover the fees.”
“Hence your need to raise extra funds.”
“I suppose I ought to have considered why anyone would compensate me for collecting information from Lord Sotherton. Such actions suggest evil intentions.”
“But you were too desperate to heed the warnings.”
“Or too cynical. How astonishing to learn Killiane funded my spying.”
“I suppose we should take comfort some good came of his ill intentions. You had the money for Phoebe’s care until the Regent gifted you with the reward.” Another example of God’s ability to bring good from evil? “Is your sister’s...affliction one of long standing?”
“Phoebe was vivacious and beautiful. Everyone loved her.” Was Leah aware of the raw pain that laced her voice even now? “Then when she was fifteen, she fell down the church steps onto the stone walkway and suffered a life-threatening blow to her head.”
“Ah, the event ten years ago. You spoke of a sister once before, but I assumed her deceased.”
“In many ways, she did die that day. She lost much of her memory and now finds the simplest activities—speaking, dressing, feeding herself—difficult. Even her disposition changed to one of persistent despondency.”
“That must have been difficult for your family, coming so soon after your brother’s death.”
“Yes, my mother already suffered from melancholy. Phoebe’s injury—and subsequent impairment—compounded her grief. My mother and I worked to restore Phoebe’s mind. Some days we seemed to see progress, only to have our hopes dashed. After my father’s death Mother and I had to relinquish the vicarage. Phoebe found the change too distressing and became a danger to herself and others. At that point, we put her in the asylum. Shortly thereafter my mother died of a broken heart.”
“And the asylum? Has she made progress toward recovery since her arrival?”
“No. Remember the day you interrupted Fleming’s harassment that afternoon?”
“Of course. You claimed to have visited an invalid friend.” Along with a man—her cousin, no doubt. “Your sister, I presume.”
“Yes, I visit every Sunday. Sometimes I feel as if she remembers me, but most times I am a stranger to her. That week, the staff had discovered her making another attempt to take her life.” Leah’s troubled hazel gaze dropped to the clenched fists in her lap. “Whenever that happens, they medicate her with laudanum.”
“What will you do henceforth, now that you have funds enough for her care?”
“I thought to get a cottage and a nurse. Perhaps in a loving and stable environment, she will improve.”
“I hope someday you’ll let me meet her.” Assuming he couldn’t persuade Leah to change her mind about his proposal. For the first time since her refusal yesterday, he allowed himself to hope. Had he at last discovered her reasons? Maybe, after they had found Caro, he could visit the Vance sisters in their cottage and renew his...friendship with Leah. “We aren’t so different, you and I.”
“A governess and an earl?”
“No, two ordinary people trying to care for the weakest among us.”
* * *
Moonlight reflected on the hulking outline of Rowan Abbey as the carriage drew around the drive. Lights gleamed in her windows and created shadows of the shrubs around the building. Leah gathered her coat and her courage more closely around her. Would Lady Sotherton accept her return or toss her into the snow? Worse, would she find the cold remains of Lady Caroline already there?
Once again Leah searched the recesses of her mind for a possibly overlooked cranny or crevice where a scared, or perhaps unconscious, child-woman might be trapped. The attic? The cellar? A wardrobe in an empty bedchamber?
The coachman gave a shout and the horses slowed, stopped. The carriage rocked as he hurtled from his perch and yanked open the door.
“Thank you, John. My compliments on the exceptionally brief journey.” Chambelston descended the steps.
“I’m most anxious for Lady Caroline, my lord.”
Chambelston extended a hand to Leah to assist her. “See to the horses. And then if you like, ask the grooms if they witnessed anything that might lead us to her.”
“I shall, my lord. Good night, Miss Vance.”
Leah gave him a nod as she accepted Chambelston’s escort to the door. The formal front door accessed by honored Sotherton guests—not their recently dismissed governesses.
Hawkesworth’s brows barely budged as he glanced to Leah. “My lord, I’m glad you arrived so precipitously. I only wish it were under more felicitous circumstances.” Nausea churned in Leah’s belly. So Caroline had not yet returned.
“I also. No word yet?”
“Nothing, sir.” The butler accepted their hats and coats. “Lady Sotherton awaits you in the blue salon.”
“Very good. Please have the housekeeper prepare a guest chamber for Miss Vance.”
The butler’s pale eyes blinked. “A guest chamber, my lord?”
“Miss Vance is no longer the governess at Rowan Abbey. You can hardly deposit her in the schoolroom.”
Was that a smile that touched Hawkesworth’s mouth? “Indeed, sir.” He vanished with their garments while Leah and Chambelston strode to the blue salon.
“Julian!” Lady Sotherton vaulted from a seat and flew to meet them in the doorway. Unhealthy pallor whitewashed her countenance, but for the red rims circling her eyes. Her gaze flickered to Leah, registering neither surprise nor opposition. “Julian, I’m so sorry. We’ve searched and searched, and I don’t know what else to do.”
Chambelston clasped her hand and guided her back to the settee. “Tell me what you have done thus far. You’ve searched the entire house, I presume?”
“Everywhere! Every room on every level.”
Leah claimed a chair some distance from the brother and sister, near to Teresa. Her former pupil leaned close to wrap an arm around Leah’s shoulders and offer a whispered comment. “I’m glad you didn’t let my mother’s bitterness keep you away.”
For any other reason, perhaps. “Not for this.”
Lady Sotherton pursed her lips. “Did Benedict return with you?”
“He had to complete some business concerning Killiane. He hoped to follow us tomorrow or the next day.” Chambelston paused before the fireplace, hands clasped at his back. “Who last saw Caro?”
“Well, that adds to our dilemma. Anna, the nurse you brought, claims Lady Caroline was last with our maid Molly.”
“And Molly vows she was with Anna,” Chambelston finished for her, his mouth a thin white line. “Whom do you believe?”
Lady Sotherton’s frown deepened. “I don’t know this woman you brought...”
“But surely she’s been here long enough for some on your staff to form opinions.”
“Mrs. Anderson and Hawkesworth both defended Molly.”
“Miss Vance?” Chambelston swung around and focused those intense blue eyes on Leah. “You probably know the particulars better than the rest of us here.”
“I’ve never known Molly to be anything but competent and truthful.” Leah’s mind slipped back to those frightening hours when she’d thought she might hang for Fleming’s murder. “Furthermore, she is a woman of genuine faith, and she has a sincere liking for Lady Caroline. I cannot imagine her lying to protect herself when such falsehoods put Lady Caroline in danger.”
“You don’t believe Anna likes Caro?” Chambelston pulled the cord to summon the butler.
“As Lady Sotherton mentioned, we scarcely know the nursemaid.” Leah avoided glancing at her recent employer. “I didn’t sense animosity so much as discomfort—as if she feared Lady Caroline’s condition might be contagious. Many people are like that around those who are...different.” Like her former suitor’s reaction to Phoebe.
The butler paused in the doorway. “My lord?”
“Send for Lady Caroline’s nursemaid.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I had thought to hire someone to replace Anna.” Chambelston’s bleak glance flickered to his sister. “But I didn’t want to steal away Molly without first consulting you, Elizabeth. I see I was too late.”
The maid shuffled into the room and sank into a curtsy, her posture half defiant and half defeated. As her wary gaze darted around the room, reluctant sympathy welled in Leah at the eerie similarity to her recent ordeal after Fleming’s murder. “You wanted to see me, my lord?”
“What I most wish, Anna, is the truth. What happened when Lady Caroline disappeared?”
“Like I told the others, my lord, Lady Caroline was with Molly.”
“Lady Caroline was your responsibility, and now her life is endangered. Should we discover anything happened to her—something that could have been prevented had you spoken out in a timely manner—we’ll see you punished as an accessory to murder.”
Anna’s shoulders wilted. “I got a note from William—one of the footmen. He asked me to meet him. Lady Caroline was playing with a toy, so I didn’t think she’d miss me.”
“And when you returned?
“She wasn’t in the room. Truly, my lord, I was only gone a few minutes.”
Chambelston glanced at Leah as a chill shuddered along her spine. She fought the rising nausea with a brief petition for Caroline’s safety. “Where is this note?”
“I burned it. I didn’t want no one finding it and learning he’d made a fool of me. When I got to the kitchen, he weren’t there.” A moue of annoyance hardened on Anna’s mouth. “How do you like that? He played me false and now I’ll lose my position and my life.”
“Anna, did William send you any other notes? Before this one?”
“No.”
“So how did you know the note was from him?”
“He signed his name, of course.”
“Of course. Thank you for your assistance.” Chambelston paced to the window and looked out into the moonlit night as the maid exited the room. “If we are to believe this iteration of Anna’s story, someone planned to get Caro alone. I think we can safely cease any further investigations of the house. We’ll begin a search of the nearby villages at first light tomorrow. Tonight, we can only rest—and pray.”
As if sleep would come to any of them while their minds whirled with fear. Leah patted Teresa’s arm and rose to find her room and a few moments of solitude with her father’s Bible.
“Miss Vance, a word if I might?” The quiet command in Lady Sotherton’s voice halted Leah’s feet with a flinch.
Chambelston turned his back to the window, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. “Elizabeth, this is not the time.”