Getting To The Bottom Of Things

L ady Willow's tearful visit a week after Niven's disappearance threw the Hawkins family into turmoil. Cat was frantic for her childhood friend. Kenneth's mother fretted aloud about what could have happened to her nephew. Even Daisy was upset. A suspicion crept into Kenneth's heart that the departure of the Halstead boys on the same day was too much of a coincidence.

He'd agreed with Lady Willow that Niven wasn't the sort of man to renege on a promise and leave a lady in the lurch. However, he'd stopped short of voicing concerns about her brothers' role in the mystery. And, if it were true, how to tell Daisy that her betrothed had been involved in the disappearance of her cousin?

There was nothing for it but to confront the Duke of Withenshawe. If his sons were involved, he would know, may even have sanctioned the deed. Kenneth had long looked up to William Halstead as his mentor. If his suspicions were wrong, an important friendship might be destroyed. If he was right, Willow would forever resent the men of her family, especially if Niven was never found. How long would it be before she too began to question the coincidence?

A letter to Niven's brothers in Scotland was already on the way. They had a right to know and would be concerned not only for their brother but for the King family's business affairs in London. He'd penned it after Lady Willow's departure and ordered the carriage be ready to leave for the Withenshawe townhouse.

Cat insisted she accompany her husband to the Withenshawe townhouse. "The lass has no sisters and no mother to turn to. She'll need a woman's shoulder to cry on, especially if yer suspicions about her brothers prove to be true."

Kenneth was hesitant. "But you're carrying my son," he argued.

"And 'twill be more stressful for me to stay here and worry," Cat countered.

He agreed on condition his mother also accompany them. Lady Maureen didn't hesitate, and Cat appreciated her support.

When they arrived, the sanctimonious Rapp led them into the drawing room where they encountered the duke. One look at his pale, haggard face confirmed for Cat that he knew what had befallen Niven.

"Lady Willow?" she asked.

"Upstairs. She refuses to come down," he replied, unable to meet her gaze.

"And can ye blame her?" she exclaimed as she turned to her mother-in-law. "Let's go see if we can help."

Willow's teary maidservant was seated on a stool outside her bedchamber. "My lady's locked the door," she sobbed as she rose. "I fear for her."

Cat tapped softly. "Lady Willow," she said. "'Tis Cat, Cat Hawkins. Lady Maureen is with me. Can we come in?"

She thought entry unlikely until the key eventually turned in the lock.

"Come in, Your Grace," Lady Willow murmured. "Although I'm not good company."

Cat had expected tears, but the stern set of Lady Willow's jaw and the anger burning in her eyes indicated that she already suspected her family's involvement.

"Is there news of my nephew?" Lady Maureen asked.

"Father says not," Willow replied, accepting Cat's embrace. "But I wish I could go to the docks and speak to people there."

"Dinna concern yerself wi' that," Cat replied. "Kenneth intends to go this very day."

"I'll only ask this once, Sir," Kenneth stated, worried by his friend's pallor. "Do you know what has happened to my cousin?"

He held his breath when William gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. If his assumptions were wrong, he'd just alienated a powerful ally.

"Not all of it," William said softly.

Kenneth filled his starved lungs. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"My sons were outraged by Niven King's intention to elope with their sister, as was I. They meant to do something about it, but I don't know what."

"Surely in the days since they left, you've heard something."

William shook his head. "Not a word of any of them."

Exasperated, Kenneth raked his fingers through his hair. "So, you don't know if they intended to murder Niven, maybe simply drown him, or…"

"Stop," William shouted, covering his ears. "I feel badly enough without your accusations. My sons would never murder a man in cold blood."

"Kidnapping then. And you condoned this?"

William looked up for the first time, his eyes full of regret. "I couldn't allow my daughter to marry a commoner."

"I married a commoner," Kenneth exclaimed.

"It's different for a man and you know it."

Kenneth reluctantly acknowledged the painful reality of upper class prejudices, but he still had no idea what had become of Niven. "I'm off to the docks to see what I can find out. In the meantime, I hope you'll have the courage to admit the truth to Lady Willow."

After Kenneth's departure, William Halstead procrastinated. His friend was right. He had to come clean to Willow. But he dreaded the confrontation. After a stiff brandy, he accepted the inevitable and trudged up the stairs to his daughter's bedchamber, feeling he'd aged a hundred years.

Kenneth's mother opened the door to his knock. He averted his gaze from the accusation in her eyes. It appeared the women had already worked out part of the puzzle.

Lady Maureen and Duchess Catriona sidled by him with a curt, "Yer Grace", leaving him alone with Willow.

"You're finally going to tell me what has become of Niven," she said flatly as he closed the door.

Guilt closed his throat. He was responsible for the grief that had turned his beautiful daughter into a pale, gaunt shadow. He'd truly believed she would get over Niven King in a trice. Now, he knew that wasn't true.

"If he's dead, Father, I'd prefer to live the rest of my life in God's service."

William cringed. She always called him Papa . His lively daughter a nun? Convent life would kill her spirit. He stiffened his spine and stood before her as she perched on the edge of the bed. "I very much regret my part in his disappearance," he admitted. "I don't know all the details, but your brothers undertook to make sure he didn't return here."

Her mouth fell open. "They killed him?" she rasped.

"I could never condone that, and my sons wouldn't do such a thing. I have great respect for Niven. He'd become indispensable. To my shame, I'm learning just how well he ran my business and his own."

"But he wasn't good enough for me?" she hissed.

He took a chance, sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. "Forgive me," he whispered.

She looked him in the eye and replied, "Bring him home and I might consider it, Father."

When Kenneth reached the docks he went straight to the upstairs offices of Withenshawe's shipping company. He'd been there many times before and always been greeted with the polite deference due his title. Today, the atmosphere was different. To a man, every clerk averted his gaze and busied himself with penning entries in a ledger. It was as if they sensed the reason for his visit.

"You all know why I'm here," he declared, seeing no point in beating about the bush.

The busy quills were set aside, but still the men refused to look up at him, their first loyalty to Withenshawe, no matter what he had done.

"I want to know what has happened to Mr. King," he shouted into the silence.

One brave soul looked up. "Last we saw ov 'im, Yer Grace, he were piping the men o' the 32 nd aboard the Knotty Pine ."

The knot in Kenneth's gut tightened. "The Withenshawes' regiment?"

"Aye, Yer Grace."

"Did he board the ship?"

There was an awkward silence before another man said, "I saw him talkin' wiv the captain's cabin boy, 'arry Packer."

"Is the Knotty Pine in dock?"

"Aye, Yer Grace."

"Harry Packer is to be brought here now."