CHAPTER 11

She took a shuddering breath. "You see, I went with George that night. He didn't want me to, said it wasn't proper for a woman to be out so late, but I insisted. Thought he might need an extra pair of hands with the lady being in a delicate way. We met up with Clarence and set off, the rain lashing at the carriage and the wind howling like a banshee.

"When we got there, to the place where we was meant to pick them up, I was surprised to see the lady had a babe with her, just a tiny little thing wrapped up tight. She looked half dead herself, pale as milk and shaking like a leaf. Her husband, he told us she'd been ill, that the journey from France had taken a toll and she was still recovering."

Susan shook her head. "She handed me the babe, asked me to look after him on the journey so she could rest. I took him gladly, the poor mite. He hardly made a sound the whole time, just slept in my arms like a little angel."

She looked down at her arms and made a cradle as if holding a baby only she could see. "We set off again, George and Clarence up front and me in the carriage with the couple. It wasn't so bad to begin with, not ‘til we got further on. The road was rough, and the carriage jolted something fierce. The lady had fallen asleep against her husband and he looked half-asleep, to boot.

"It happened so fast. One moment we were trotting along, the next there was a huge jolt and a cracking sound and the carriage pitched sideways. Screams, yelling, horses shrieking…it was chaos. I was thrown clear through the door. Felt something snap in my leg when I hit the ground still holding onto the boy."

Her hands twisted in her lap, gnarled fingers knotting together. "Worried as I was, he was fine, nary a scratch on him. It was a miracle. The others, though…" She swallowed hard. "George and Clarence, they'd been flung from the box. I could see them lying there, all twisted up and still. And the couple…the carriage had landed on its side. They were still inside."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she dashed it away. "The husband…Thomas…he was pinned but still alive. I could hear him groaning. He saw me, called out to me. Told me to take the babe and run. To get help. He didn't know about me leg."

She let out a shuddering breath. "I found a branch and dragged myself up, leg screaming with every step as I stumbled off into the dark with the babe held close. I thought…I thought I could flag down another carriage or a farmer, bring back help."

Her eyes met mine, bleak and haunted. "But then I heard hoofbeats. Riders coming fast. At first, I thought they were there to help, but something…something told me to hide. So I did, crouched down in the bracken and brambles at the side of the road with the babe held tight to my chest to muffle any sound.

"They stopped by the wreck. Three of them, big brutes of men. Watched them dismount and I heard them talking, laughing. One said, ‘This better be worth the money. When we meet our maker, he be sending us below.' And another…'Aye, Lady Catherine will be pleased, she will. With her brother and his wife gone, Frogmere'll be hers."

My blood ran cold at her words. I glanced at John. "Then what?" I asked hoarsely, dreading the answer but needing to know.

Susan's hands were shaking now, her body trembling. "They had a sack. I could hear something hissing and writhing inside it. They…they took out these snakes…adders I think they were. Nasty snakes. They took them out…and they…" She broke off, a sob catching in her throat.

"They opened the door of the carriage and I heard the lady scream, high and terrible. Then the men were laughing and jeering and the screams turned to choked gurgles and then…then silence."

Tears streamed down her face. "I wanted to help, but I couldn't. I had to protect the babe, you see? I couldn't risk them finding us. So I just…I just laid there in the muck, shaking and praying as I listened to them die."

I felt bile rising in my throat. The ball might have been sent ahead from home, or custom made in town, perhaps. Either way, Mother surely knew that my aunt was expecting at the very least. Could she have been behind such a heinous act? I wanted to deny it, to scream that it couldn't be true…but Susan's anguished face…

John reached out and grasped my hand, his fingers warm and solid.

"What happened then?" he asked gently when Susan's sobs had subsided to hiccupping breaths.

She swiped a hand across her wet cheeks. "They left. Just rode off laughing into the night like they hadn't just murdered two people in cold blood. Always thought they probably messed with the carriage as well. It weren't one George drove before.

"I waited, made sure they were really gone, then I dragged myself to my feet. The babe had started fussing by then, but there wasn't anything I could do for his parents. They were…they were gone." Fresh tears spilled over, but she blinked them away.

"I was fair lost in those woods, but the babe's cries must have carried. A farmer and his wife heard and came upon us. They thought the babe was mine and I…I didn't correct them. Just said that I'd passed a broken carriage. I knew if I told the truth, word would get back to Lady Catherine and then…well, I figured I'd be next."

She looked at me. "I let them take me in. Take the babe too. I told them I was a widow, that my man had died and left me with a newborn. They were good people and got me back to town. Constable found me at home days later and told me George were dead. He took one look at the boy and thought I'd been with a midwife." Susan chuckled. "Can you imagine, at my age, having a baby? Typical bachelor."

"And you never told anyone what really happened?" I whispered. "All these years…"

"Who'd have believed me?" she asked bitterly. "A woman of my station against the word of a lady? I'd have hanged for sure, or worse. But I never forgot, and I never forgave myself neither. The way I sees it, keeping silent about your mother's role is my sin to bear and I've borne it gladly to keep that boy safe."

Her words shook me to my core. The cold, distant mother I knew…was she really capable of murder? Of fratricide? For what…money, power? The revelations left me reeling, guilt and grief and anger swirling inside me until I thought I might shatter from the force of it.

"This boy…the baby…" I asked, my voice sounding thin and thready to my own ears. "What happened to him?"

Susan's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I knew I couldn't keep him, much as I wanted to. A babe needs more than an old woman with a busted leg can give. My sister, she lives over in the mill district. I sent word to her, told her…told her I needed help."

She sighed heavily. "She came as quick as she could. Never even told the truth, just said he needed a family. Said she knew a family, good people, who would take the babe in, raise him as their own."

"And they did? They took him?"

Susan nodded. "Aye. Can't tell you who they were ‘cause I made me swear never to tell me. Easier to deny what you don't know. She told me, years back, that he was a strong lad, a good lad."

I sat back, my mind reeling. The lost heir of Frogmere, alive and well somewhere, unaware of his true identity. It seemed like something out of one of my novels, but the pain in Susan's eyes, the tremor in her voice, was all too real.

"And what of my mother?" I asked, dreading the answer. "What happened after…after the accident?"

Susan snorted. "Oh, she played her part well, Lady Catherine did. All tears and black veils at the funeral. But she didn't waste no time moving into Frogmere and taking over. With your father already gone, there weren't no one to gainsay her."

I felt sick. How could she mourn so publicly while her hands were stained with her brother's blood? The brother whose house she now occupied, whose wealth she enjoyed. As did I. Despite not knowing the past, I benefited daily from her involvement in what happened. I wanted to believe her innocent, but not mentioning my aunt with child, that point alone repeated in thoughts.

"There were rumours. Us folk always talk, ain't much harm usually," Susan continued. "There was a man from the blacksmith where the horse and carriage had been stabled the days before George got hired. He liked the bottle and then disappeared one night. Some say he fell in the river; others say he muttered about wrongs. His wrongs."

"But no one did anything?" I asked. "No one investigated further?"

Susan laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "Investigated? A drunk of a man who tends to horses? Nay girl, not worth the time of day. And the whispers against Lady Catherine were soon hushed. Money can buy a man's honour when that's all he has. Fear is a devil of a thing. She probably had the constable in her pocket and the magistrate too."

Susan's tale unlocked a door to a history I wasn't sure I was ready to face. But I had to find the baby. I owed that much to my aunt and uncle, to my father…and to myself.

"Thank you, Susan," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "Thank you for telling us this, for being brave enough to speak out after all these years. I know it couldn't have been easy."

She waved a dismissive hand, but I could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. "Weren't bravery, child. There is nothing more powerful than the love a parent has for a child. Whether they be yours by blood or the grace of God. You coming here…perhaps it's a sign that it's time."

"Boy, there is a box over under my cot."

John rose and went to the cot. Bending down, he reached under it and his hand emerged with a rough wooden box. He returned to the table, setting it down in front of Susan.

"The lady had given me a bag of things, mainly for the baby. But there were other things in there too. I kept them here, but maybe they might help find the lad."

I reached out to open it, but Susan shook her head.

"Not here. I don't need ghosts in this place, memories are enough. You take it away."

John stood, extending a hand to help me rise. I took it gratefully, my legs quivering beneath me.

As we made our way to the door, Susan called out, "Miss…Hannah…Don't let your mother's sins become your own."

I looked back at her. "I won't," I promised.

With a final nod, we stepped out into the watery sunlight. The revelations of the past hour pressed down on me, making each breath an effort. John, perhaps sensing my distress, tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow as we walked in silence back to the waiting carriage.

Inside, away from prying eyes, I let the tears come. Great, gasping sobs that shook my entire frame. John simply held me, muttering softly.

"What do I do now?" I asked finally, my voice raw and ragged. "How do I face her, knowing what she's done?"

John brushed a strand of hair from my damp cheek, his touch gentle. "You don't have to face her alone," he said. "I'll be with you every step of the way. We'll find proof of what happened, expose her crimes…"

"And find the lost baby," I finished. "He's out there somewhere, John. He deserves to know the truth, to claim his rightful place."

"If we find him, you know he could take everything from you?"

"What good has a fancy house done for me so far?" I muttered.

As the carriage rolled back towards town, a sense of calm settle over me. Memories of the stories Mother told of my father being harsh and cold. How he had despised me being born a girl and not the boy he wanted to take the title when he passed on. Was that the truth also? Perhaps his death was not innocent either. Had my mother played a role in that as well? The suspicion left a bitter taste.

I glanced up at John, his jaw set as he stared out the carriage window. I couldn't have faced any of this without him by my side. Every man I'd slighted was because I knew I didn't want them for a husband. I wondered if John's opinion of me had changed at all? I could learn to live with less if he could accept me.