Darkest Death, page 3
part #2 of Darkest Series
Oh no, that would not do. Hermione would wither away, alone and a shell of herself, all that potential wasted. “Or you can live with me, Hermione. The west wing can be made into your apartments. There is room for a nursery as well.”
“You mean it, Sarah?”
“Of course I do. I will instruct my people to get started immediately on drawing up plans. You will have to come and approve them and choose your color and fabrics.” As if she’d offer if she was not serious.
Hermione started crying. Lordy, but those baby hormones seem to control her friend more and more. “Oh thank you. I have no desire to be with a man, but having to stay under my brother’s thumb did not hold much appeal. He is ever so overprotective of me now.”
“As he should be,” the dowager said. “Especially, if the circumstances are as I suspect.”
Sarah clasped Hermione’s hands. Fiddlesticks, but they’d gone to much trouble to hide the facts. Before Sarah could say anything to deflect, the dowager continued.
“Oh, do not be giving me that look of horror, ladies. I have been around far longer than the three of you have. I’ve seen the perfidy of men. I was fortunate enough to marry a good one. You can trust me. In case you haven’t noticed, this branch of the Canterburys’ isn’t quite as conventional as the title would presume.”
Sarah suspected that the hope on Hermione and Lady Lillian’s face reflected her own facial expression. Could they have found help so high up in society?
“I am fortunate. I am not quite as conventional as Father would like, either. Any help given to Hermione, I would count as a personal favor,” Lady Lillian said quietly.
“As would I,” Sarah put in. “I agree, Lady Lillian. You have found the best husband for you.”
She hoped Lord Archie would prove just as perfect for her—if he ever scraped up the nerve to ask for her hand. Then again, she could drop some serious hints. As in ask him herself kind of hints. It just wasn’t done, but she’d long ago decided that society was not right about everything.
The carriage slowed to a stop and a footman let them out. The chapel was a small stone one, only a couple stories high, though the bell tower rose higher. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement, so she turned.
Her eyes narrowed on the ruffian scrambling away in the slush from old snow. Thankfully, the walks were cleared, so Lillian’s dress would be fine. She bit back a laugh. As if Lillian would even notice. How she’d ended up fast friends with someone who did not care how she looked alternately confounded and amused Sarah.
Once she knew the ruffian did not plan an attack, she followed Hermione in and sat down on the side pew for a few moments, collecting herself. Hermione elbowed her, and she turned her attention to the back of the church.
Lillian’s beauty came from within. She glowed as if God himself poured love from her soul to spill over on all of them watching. Sarah caught the dowager dabbing her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.
Clarence waited for Lillian in sharply pressed trousers and a black jacket with tails, a red rose in the pocket. His face was almost an exact match to Lillian’s.
Happiness, love, worry, and seriousness.
A sigh slipped past her lips, one of longing and wishes. Hermione grabbed her hand, giving her a sympathetic look before turning back to watch their best friend marry the man of her dreams.
Lillian spared them both a small, distracted smile, but she only had eyes for Clarence as she neared. He held out his hand, and she took it in her own. Sarah lost her battle with tears during the vows, and poor Hermione about soaked her handkerchief.
They signed the official papers, and Sarah witnessed for Lillian and the dowager for Clarence. At the inn, the small cake and large repast Sarah had ordered for all of them lay out in the dining area, which had been closed off from prying eyes. Sarah was in her element, and a friendship between the dowager and her was fast forming. Hermione was even more relaxed than she’d been for simply ages.
And Lady Lillian? Sarah hoped to have even a sliver of that level of happiness for herself.
As they talked amongst themselves, Sarah heard the rustling of cloth and glanced over as Clarence stood up and held his hand to Lillian. “Come, Lillian. It is time.”
“For what?”
Sarah spewed liquid in a very undignified manner, saved only by her handkerchief, and Hermione and the dowager laughed as well. Sarah laughed harder at the frown on Lillian’s—now a duchess—face. Virgin though Sarah was, even she knew what His Grace was saying.
Then Lady Lillian’s eyes widened. “Oh. My,” she said as she stood up and linked their hands, cheeks burning.
Sarah simply shook her head. Exhausted by the time the service and festivities ended, she made her way to her own room in the hotel, already missing her friend. Though they’d remain friends, Lady Sarah knew it was but the beginning of the changes into adulthood. Hermione and the dowager shared their set of rooms to one side next to her room. She took over her own area now that Lillian was gone.
She sighed as she unlatched her door leading to her suite of rooms and went in, throwing her stole over the back of the high winged chair. She pulled the hatpins and took off her fascinator with its lovely veil before setting it to the side. As she did, she noted some letters upon the side table by the door. With some anticipation, she snagged up the envelopes and ambled toward her bedroom.
She carefully opened the first of the letters which arrived while she was out with Lillian, curious as to who could possibly know where she’d gone. Only a limited number of people even knew she had left for Edinburgh.
She turned the envelope over, but found no name other than hers on the outside in an unfamiliar script. “A card? How lovely. Who would be sending me a card?” Despite the craze for Valentine’s, she’d not received any this year, probably on account of being at Hermione’s home or helping Lillian for the time leading up to it. Truly, she did not mind. However, it was rather nice to know that others cared enough to remember her.
She pulled it out and sighed at the beautiful yellow roses. Most Valentines were red or maroon or pink. This had lovely yellows with touches of light pink as accents. Lace bordered the sides. A ribbon with her name sewed upon it graced the center of a large heart with a cupid on it.
With a sweet smile across her face, she opened it up. “Your beauty outshines even the brightest of roses.” No signature. Heat flushed her face. Though unlikely, she knew whom she hoped it was from. The name sewed in meant this had been planned for and prepared for, and it felt good to know someone cared that much. She set it over the fireplace of her room, then opened the other one.
As she pulled it out, something fell to the ground. She stooped and picked it up. A black crow feather. She frowned and opened the card accompanying it. Screaming, she dropped it and kept screaming and stared as the card and its contents floated to the ground.
An animal’s ear and a spider were pinned to the middle of the largest heart with her name on it. Written above, it said, “Come into my parlor.”
She quickly smothered the scream, hoping no one was nearby to hear it. Disconcerting, to say the least, and she considered telling someone. But whom would she tell? The hotel management? The magistrate? Lord have mercy, but she could practically hear their eyes roll already at the little lady having a fit over a piece of paper. Would they even believe her that she knew not whom had sent her such a filthy thing? Then she paled. Would they believe it of Lord Archer if she told them he was the only one not with them, save her servants and Lillian’s family, who knew where they’d gone?
She could not risk them blaming him, especially as she had no other ideas. But then she remembered the person lounging in the darkening shadows upon their arrival and then again the ruffian at the church. Dread made its way through her belly and into her mind making her cold and afraid. Sarah bent over to pick up the card she dropped with a shaking hand, when someone pounded on the door.
“Who is it,” she said, her voice squeaking, so she cleared her throat.
“Your maid, my lady.
It indeed sounded like Mary, so she opened it. Her regular maid stood there with one of her outfits. “I just pressed this with the hotel’s flat iron.”
“Of course, Mary. I just got in myself. I hope your trip here was uneventful. I missed you earlier, and I am glad you are back.” As she spoke, she moved to put the cards away, sliding them in a drawer so her maid would not see them. Her heart still beat erratically, and fear clawed at her, seeking purchase. “Did you, um, hear anything untoward as you came to my room?”
“Like what, my lady?”
“Just anything unusual.” Please say no. She would be mortified if anyone heard her.
“No, my lady. Nothing unusual.” The maid bustled about, turning down the bed and doing her normal nighttime routines. Lady Sarah used the time to calm herself. She sat at the vanity provided by the hotel and took her hair down. The maid hurried over to brush it.
“My trip was uneventful, my lady. If you don’t mind my saying, you do not look well. Your face is pale, and your eyes look as if they have had a fright.” She stroked with the silver handled brush, gently tugging on the tangles. “Forgive me, my lady, but I have known you since I was a young girl. Should I ring for a doctor?”
Lady Sarah gave a wobbly smile, noting that she did appear like one of the ghosts of her favorite gothic story. “None taken. Leave the doctor to his rest. I am merely exhausted with this whirlwind wedding. I am sure I will be back to my old self soon.”
“As you wish. Oh, and mail came from the desk. They would not say who sent it.”
There went that question. “Yes, I received them. Thank you.”
“Do I need to send a reply note through the hotel?”
“No Mary, I do not want to make a reply.” Lady Sarah could not think of a proper one to either card anyway. “Have the dowager’s and Hermione’s maids arrived?”
“Yes, my lady. We all arrived on the same train.”
“Would you let them know that we have a breakfast in the morn?”
“Of course, my lady.”
Tomorrow, when alone with her friends, she would ask their opinion about what they should do. Maybe. Lady Lillian deserved a holiday. Maybe she’d keep the threatening card to herself? No. It was too scary and might be related to the fake Dark Duke.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes,” she replied, and distractedly dismissed her maid with a wave. When they’d arrested Lord Jarvis, she’d hoped it would have been the end of it. Instead, more mysteries and threats had popped up. She fell into a fitful sleep worrying about it all.
The next morning, having tossed and turned all night, lady Sarah made her way down to the hotel dining room at half hour before her time to meet Lillian and Hermione. She ordered a cup of tea to settle her stomach, put her reticule on the table, and then took out the Valentine with the roses, coloring slightly as she thought of who she hoped sent it. She put it back in quickly. She’d left the ugly one in the drawer, not wanting to carry it around.
The waiter came with her tea. “Anything else, my lady?” he asked with a half bow.
“No, thank you. I am waiting for my friends,” she said quietly.
She tried to clear her mind, but her nerves kept her edgy. Lady Lillian arrived first, surprising Sarah.
“Lady Lillian!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here so early? I sort of thought you’d be a little later.”
“Well, I’m early for…” A blush rose across Lillian’s cheeks, making lady Sarah laugh.
“Oh I see,” lady Sarah said, giggling. “Remember our conversations when we were but young girls? What happened would be explained by whoever got married first?” She wanted to tease Lillian for in truth, as they grow older, she understood what a childish agreement that have been and had no intention of following through on it. And technically, Hermione could have, but there had been a haunted expression in her eyes since her ordeal with the marquess, which she’d not wanted to bring up by questions, much less these kind.
Lady Lillian turned even redder. “There is more than how it was explained. My mother always said to think of it as doing my duty for king and country. However, yesterday, I learned that if you have the proper man, you will not be taking a king or anyone else with you. Or queen and country as we are now under a queen.”
Sarah laughed out right. Such a pleasure to see, and a good reward after the trouble it took to get those two together and her away from her father. “Thank you, Lillian for that information. It is good to know it is possible to enjoy doing one’s duty in the bedroom.”
Hermione sauntered in, her pregnant belly much too obvious for their sakes, but both Lady Sarah and Lady Lillian stared down the waiter when he gave her a disapproving stare. How dare he! Then again, servants could be as pompous as the most high born lords and ladies.
While most women in her condition did not leave the house unescorted by the father of the baby, if at all, Lady Sarah had long ago determined to not allow history to go backward more than it already had. She had female ancestors who fought in battle. Queens who ran the troops more brilliantly than Napoleon could conceive. She scowled as she thought of the books in her family library which told of women having power. So much different than the history taught now.
Why did they erase such important parts of history? Why did men insist on downplaying women’s powers? Just because she liked clothes didn’t mean… “What? I’m sorry. I was woolgathering.”
Hermione and Lady Lillian laughed. “I said, you’re thinking about women’s rights again, aren’t you? About the battles and the queens?”
A flush stole over her in embarrassment. “Yes,” she mumbled. “Though I do not see how you are always able to tell when such things cross my mind,” she added primly. “One might think you possessed some magical powers if one lived in the dark ages.”
They laughed harder. “It does not take a genius to see the look on your face. After these many years, I have come to learn this look quite well,” Hermione said. “It used to scare me witless, afraid Father would not approve of you and your ways.”
“Your father would not dare to have offended mine,” Sarah said, a little laugh escaping. “They had too many business interests together. How do you think we ended up playing together so much as children?”
Their food came, and the three of them ate and laughed, enjoying being women. Soon enough, Lord Clarence would come and steal Lady Lillian away again, so Lady Sarah would enjoy that morning together before her best friend left to Lord Clarence’s Scottish estates.
She’d have time later to think of her own marriage and other long-lost stories and dreams.
As they finished their meal, Sarah noticed a man having undue interest in their table.
“Hermione, Lillian, I wish to have tea before we all leave. Care to join me in the suite of rooms? I’ll have some sweets brought up. We must plan our next get together, and I find I need to go…” She flicked her napkin, trying to think of a probable story that would not be a lie. She let out a sigh. “I need to check a few things. I will fill you in when I have been able to finalize my thoughts on the matter.” A half-formed plan to stay in Scotland rather than go back for the slowly starting season began to play on her mind.
“Of course,” Hermione said. “I will be up when I finish this scone. I find I am hungry more and more these days.”
“I will wait for Clarence, and he can escort us both to the gardens then to your rooms,” Lillian said, a blush stealing over her cheeks once more. No doubt from calling His Grace by his first name.
“Then it is settled. I will meet you for tea. Thank you.”
She stood and shook her skirts out in a deliberate manner, trying to see the man from the corner of her eye. Most definitely watched her much too closely. A pillar stood near him. She would make her way around to there and try to listen in on the conversation. Call her paranoid, but after what they’d just gone through with Lady Amber and Lord Jarvis, on top of her ugly valentine, she would take no chances. Rather to feel foolish than feel dead. She nodded her head as she walked, then proceeded to listen.
Chapter Three
Lord Downing
Edinburgh, Half hour earlier…
He peered in the mirror at his reflection, checking that everything looked proper. His greyish white beard, though thinner than in his youth, still kept its sharp appearance, giving a rather dapper appearance, which helped his entry into all the right houses.
He grabbed the lapels of his topcoat and snapped them. Quite well done. His valet being the best money could buy did not surprise him. He’d brought the man along on this business trip, but had put him up in his own room alongside the room for Lord Archer’s servant. He needed to keep an eye on the servant as well as the viscount. He’d considered having his manservant in a suite of rooms connected to his for ease of comfort, but had put the idea away almost immediately.
No, for the things he needed done, he wanted the privacy of his own rooms in this hotel. Having a manservant could create a problem when trying to be secretive and spy on the spy as well as his other target. How best to use the Lady Lillian against the earl? At least the earl had chosen the best hotel in the area. The glimpse he’d caught of Lady Sarah last night had been pleasant. She was a lovely young woman. Perhaps he could use her to keep a very close eye on Lady Lillian while he pretended an interest. He smiled.
Then again, he could offer for her, find some way to squeeze whomever her guardian was into accepting his offer. A frown marred the features staring back at him, emphasizing his bulbous nose, the least favorite part of his own face. He quickly eased the frown back into smooth planes of the gentleman at leisure pose. He would find out who held sway over her finances. At under twenty one, surely a male relative possessed power over her purse string and guardianship on her person. Her funds could be better used under his own care, he was quite certain.
