Chapter 20

C hapter 20

Inside the cottage, she introduced us to a plump, middle-aged woman named Mrs. Spencer. She greeted us pleasantly, and when little Rose began fussing, she took the baby from Elizabeth and went upstairs to put her to sleep. Elizabeth bade us sit in the little parlor overlooking the garden while she fixed tea.

“Did you have any idea?” Nathaniel asked in a low voice after Elizabeth had disappeared into the kitchen.

I shook my head. “None. Truly. I cannot imagine how she concealed it.”

My mind leaped forward, finally finding the questions I needed answers to. Who was the father? How had she kept her pregnancy a secret? Why had she run?

I did not have to wonder why she had kept such a secret. Society would have torn Elizabeth to pieces, no matter that her father was a baronet. Some things simply were not done, and that included a child born out of wedlock. My stomach wrenched, and I had to take a long, deep breath. I knew all too well what could lie ahead for Elizabeth and her child, the shame and the scorn, the same challenges that had haunted me and my mother my entire life.

When Elizabeth returned, she set the tray on the table near the window and served us all, though none of us was eager to eat or drink. But simply having a teacup in hand seemed to strengthen Elizabeth, and she finally raised her eyes to meet mine as she sat on the chair beside mine.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. She shook her head. “I cannot believe that you are here. I have kept this secret for so long, I hardly know how to speak of it.”

That I understood completely, though I could not say so now.

“You can tell us,” I said, leaning forward. “Please, Elizabeth, we want to help.”

Elizabeth chewed on her lip, and her eyes moved from me to Nathaniel, sitting near the window.

“Anything you say,” Nathaniel said, “I will hold in the strictest of confidences, I promise. I only mean to help.”

Elizabeth considered that, then gave a short nod. She looked down at her feet.

“It began a year ago,” she said. “Last May. I don’t know if you recall when I went away to that house party in Kent.”

“I remember,” I said.

“It was just a few days. A short party.” She fidgeted with her teacup. “Phillip Hall attended as well.”

My stomach tightened. Elizabeth had held quite a tendre for the man last Season, though nothing had ever come of it. Or so I’d thought.

“He was a charmer,” she said softly. “A master at persuading away doubts.”

She stopped, eyes flicking to Nathaniel.

He met her gaze with one of sympathy. “I am sorry,” he said, “to make you speak of this in front of a near stranger.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, then shook her head. “No, it is all right.” She looked back at me, shame filling her eyes. “He—he made me promises. And fool that I was, I believed him.”

I was gripping my teacup fiercely. “The cad,” I hissed. “The blackguard.”

She exhaled deeply. “I wish I could blame him for everything, but I made a choice that night as well, stupid as it was.” She closed her eyes. “I quickly learned that Mr. Hall cared nothing for me. By the time we’d returned to London, he had found another lightskirt to chase.”

“Oh, Elizabeth.” Now I understood why she’d seemed so brokenhearted after he’d slighted her. I did not tend toward violence naturally, but at that moment, I would not have hesitated to plant a facer on Mr. Hall had he wandered nearby.

“I did not realize I was expecting for nearly three months,” she whispered, her voice frail. “Our time in London was busy, and I was so ... ignorant in the ways of motherhood.” She stared down at her hands, avoiding my eyes. “When it finally became clear, I was aghast. How could I have allowed this to happen? What would I tell my mother? My father?”

Nathaniel and I stayed silent, letting her pace the story.

“I went to my aunt,” she said. “My beloved Aunt Augusta. She had always loved me as a daughter, and she would know what to do. She helped me enact our scheme: we would tell my parents we would be traveling together for several months before the next Season. Mother and Father easily agreed. They knew I’d been heartbroken over Mr. Hall and wished to see me happy.”

Her voice cracked on that last word, and she had to clear her throat. “My aunt’s only condition was that I would give up the child as soon as it was born. I agreed, and we came to Bibury. Mrs. Spencer is my aunt’s former housekeeper, and Aunt Augusta trusts her beyond measure. I do as well, after all she has done for me. She not only helped with the birth, but when I returned to London, she also took Rose in, cared for her.” Tears again crowded her eyes. “Oh, it has been so difficult being away from my darling child. I love her, Verity, so very much. One might think the way she came into being would affect my feelings, but it does not. Not in the least.”

I found tears in my own eyes, though I blinked them away. Was this how Mama thought of me? She loved me now, I knew that, but had she always felt that way? I was a constant reminder of the man who had abandoned her. “Rose is beautiful,” I said quietly, fighting my rising emotions. “Truly.”

“I am sorry I did not tell you sooner,” she whispered. “I could not bear to have you think badly of me.”

I shook my head. “I would never be your judge, Elizabeth.” Not when I had so many mistakes of my own.

Nathaniel leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingertips pressed together. “May I ask what you planned to do?”

“I planned to lie,” she admitted. “I planned to return to London and marry the first decent fellow I could find before any hint of my scandal could leak out. I know, it is not very kind of me. Tricking a man into marriage with a ruined woman.”

“You were frightened,” I said. “No one can blame you for that.”

She gave a slight smile. “I know it was despicable. I almost did not go through with it. But then I met Lord Blakely.” Her smile grew and softened all at once. “I began to wonder if I could still have the life I dreamed of. Only, I hated to deceive him. I hated that he did not know about Rose.” She shook her head. “I was still trying to decide whether to tell him when we went to the theatre that night.”

I set my teacup down. “Might I guess that there was something about Rose in that letter?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Mrs. Spencer and I exchanged letters through my maid, Marianne, who knew everything, having attended me during my confinement. Marianne had just given me a new letter that night, and I was so desperate to hear news of my sweet baby. But then Mother came into my room, and I hid it in my reticule.”

“Which was then stolen,” Nathaniel filled in.

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. “That was why I implored you to help me, Verity, because I knew if the contents of that letter reached anyone in Society, I would be done for. And all my fears came true.”

“Someone read the letter,” I said.

“I received an unsigned note,” she confirmed. “A few days after the robbery. That was why I told you to stop investigating, Verity. I did not want you involved anymore.”

“What did it say?” My voice was hardly above a whisper.

Elizabeth chewed on her lip, and her eyes moved from me to Nathaniel sitting near the window.

“You needn’t worry about Mr. Denning,” I assured her. “You can trust him.”

I could feel his eyes on me, but I focused on Elizabeth.

“I wish I could,” she said, voice shaking. “But the note specifically instructed me not to tell Bow Street. I am so afraid, Verity. What am I to do?”

Silence claimed the room, broken only by Elizabeth’s short breaths as she fought tears.

Then Nathaniel spoke. “I dare not promise that all will be well,” he said, his voice steady. “But I can tell you that we will have a much better chance of helping you if we know all the details. Otherwise we are shooting blindly into the dark. If you tell us what you know, Miss Harwood, then perhaps we might find a solution to your troubles.”

My heart swelled at the compassion in his words, the care with which he spoke them.

Elizabeth stared out the window into the garden, considering. Then she nodded. “You are right. In any case, I could hardly keep it from the both of you once you saw Rose.”

“The unsigned note,” I urged gently. “What did it say?”

She stood and went into the bedroom opposite the sitting room. When she returned, she held a folded paper in her hands. She handed it to me and found her seat again as I opened the note, Nathaniel leaning to read over my shoulder.

Miss Harwood,

You do not know who I am, but I know who you are. More importantly, I know the secret you would do anything to keep. You see, I was fortunate enough to come across a missive addressed to you which revealed that you are not, in fact, the pure and proper miss you pretend to be. My, what a surprise this would be to your parents if they were to learn of it. Not to mention your betrothed—I daresay the Earl of Blakely would not be terribly pleased to learn that his wife-to-be is far from virtuous.

That is, unless you wish to keep this secret and continue your deceitful gambit. If so, perhaps you and I can come to an arrangement.

You have in your own home a painting in which I am most interested, The Woman in Red . In exchange for my silence, you will deliver the painting the day after tomorrow at midnight. There is a certain tree in St. James’s Park that was struck by lightning a few years ago. You will find it near the eastern entrance. Place the painting against the tree and leave.

There now, that is not so bad. A painting for a future.

One last thing.

When you are questioned, which you undoubtedly will be, you must reveal your suspicions that your lady’s maid might be involved. You need only give enough to lead to a search of her rooms, where there shall be evidence found to shift the blame entirely onto her. You leave that to me, of course.

If I do not see that painting at that tree at the time specified, your secret will be known to all of London by the end of the next day.

Tell no one. If you inform Bow Street, I will know.

Nathaniel and I finished reading at the same moment, and he sat back, shaking his head in stunned amazement. I looked up at Elizabeth, my breathing shallow.

“So you see,” she whispered, “that is why I had to run. No matter what I did, someone I loved would be harmed. If I obeyed, Marianne would have been arrested for a theft she did not commit. If I did not, my future—and Rose’s—were forfeit. This was the only way that I could buy some time.”

Nathaniel blew out a long breath. “The blackmailer might still follow through with his threat, Miss Harwood. It is a risky gamble.”

“Not so risky.” She lifted one shoulder. “Marianne has stood by me through everything, helped me through the most difficult time of my life. It was never an option to betray her. Knowing that, I decided to call the blackmailer’s bluff. I fled, assuming word of my disappearance would quickly spread throughout Town and he would hear of it. I hazarded a guess that he would not spill my secret, at least not yet. Not when it was the only leverage he had over me.”

“We cannot say for sure if it worked,” I said, rather impressed with my friend’s ingenuity. “But your parents certainly did not know when we left them.”

Elizabeth was quiet a long moment. “My parents,” she managed. “How do they fare?”

“Their daughter is missing,” I said, setting the letter aside. “They are distraught.”

She closed her eyes in regret. “I planned to write to them in a few days. I did not want to hurt them, but I could see no other way forward. I cannot imagine how they will react to learning about Rose.”

Such pain crossed her face that it made me wish to cry. To think that she had been suffering this alone—the fear and the uncertainty. She’d had a child, and I hadn’t even known. She was a mother .

I bit my lip, realizing I had a confession of my own to make. “Elizabeth,” I said. “I should tell you that your parents know more than you think. Upon your disappearance, I told them everything I knew about your missing letter and the secret you were trying to keep. I am sorry.”

“Oh.” She looked surprised but then shook her head. “You needn’t apologize. Of course you would tell them. And perhaps it will make this all a little easier if they have some warning.” She looked between the both of us with dread in her eyes. “I do not know what to do. I have lost hope that I can find a way out. I care not for my own reputation anymore. I only think of Rose. I cannot imagine what people would say about her if they knew the truth.”

I pulled back, my lungs caught in a vise. The words I wished to say hung on the tip of my tongue, and yet ... How could I tell her? Nathaniel sat not three feet away. That familiar fear tore at my chest. Would he reject me?

But the fear Elizabeth felt for her child pushed me forward. I could help, even in a small way.

“I understand better than you might realize,” I said, my voice raspy.

Elizabeth’s fair brows pulled into a crease. “What do you mean?”

My throat was dry. “I mean that I know very well what it is to be the illegitimate daughter of a prominent gentleman.”

It had been years since I had spoken such words. I had to rip them from my very center, where I’d hidden my secret for so long. Memories rushed through my head from when I was a child—superior looks sent my way, whispers in church, rejection and exclusion. The memories were faint, from the time before Mama had insisted upon our cover story, but they were powerful. A reminder of what I’d been through, of what Rose might suffer.

I did not look at Nathaniel. I could not bear to see what might be in his eyes, whether surprise or judgment or sympathy.

I focused on Elizabeth. She sat still, staring at me. Then her entire expression shifted into sweet understanding. “Oh, Verity. I did not know.”

“How would you?” I said. “I never speak of it, not when my mother has tried so hard to convince the world of a lie.”

“Your father did not die when you were a child?” she asked softly.

I shook my head. “No. He is alive and well. At least, I assume he is well. We are not on speaking terms.”

Finally, I could bear it no longer. My gaze flicked to Nathaniel. He sat with his hand grasping his chin, as if deep in thought. His eyes met mine, and I tried to see beyond his staid countenance, but he looked away in the next moment.

“My mother invented the story when I was very young,” I said, staring down at my hands in my lap. “I have long assumed it was to protect herself, her career. But I am beginning to think it was far more than that.” My eyes clouded with tears. “Because I am beginning to see just what a mother would do for her child.”

I looked up at Elizabeth, and she gazed at me with so much compassion that I barely kept control of my voice as I spoke. “I am proof that a good life can come from a difficult beginning. You mustn’t despair, Elizabeth. Rose can, and will, be happy.”

Elizabeth embraced me, and I closed my eyes, grateful for her warm arms around me. “Thank you,” she whispered. When she pulled back, she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked between Nathaniel and me. “What is our next step?”

“First and foremost,” Nathaniel said, “we must see you safely returned to your parents.”

I nodded my agreement. “They must know you are safe.”

Elizabeth balked. “But if I return, the blackmailer will learn of it. He will demand the painting again, I am sure of it, and then there will be nothing I can do to stop him from spreading my secret, if he hasn’t already.”

“Perhaps not,” Nathaniel said thoughtfully. “You will have our help this time. In fact, if he insists upon your delivering the painting, that might present us the perfect opportunity to catch him in the act.”

“Catch him?” Her eyes widened.

I nodded, following Nathaniel’s logic. “It is a good idea. However, the blackmailer cannot learn Bow Street is involved. We will have to be careful.”

Elizabeth shook her head frantically. “That sounds far too dangerous. I cannot ask either of you to—”

“Elizabeth,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “You do not need to ask us.”

She stared at me, her eyes growing glossy once more. She looked away and took a deep breath. “Very well,” she said, collecting herself. “But I will do my part. I can pay for a hired carriage for the return trip. I sold several pieces of jewelry before I left London, so we needn’t worry about funds.”

“We’ll be passing near Wimborne,” I said, realizing suddenly. “We might stay the night there now that we won’t be at the mercy of the mail coach.”

“Wimborne?” Nathaniel arched a brow.

“My sister-in-law’s estate,” I explained. “Perhaps Jack might even have some suggestions for us. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s dealt with an extortionist.”

Nathaniel nodded, though there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes. He still was not certain about Jack. It was difficult to shake an opinion formed through gossip and rumors, even if Nathaniel professed neutrality.

I could only imagine what his opinion of me was now that he knew the truth about my father. And it was not through gossip or rumors but my own words. He watched me, his expression a puzzle I could not solve.

I focused back on Elizabeth, who looked toward the stairs with trepidation in her eyes. Her thoughts were clearly with Rose and their uncertain future. I leaned forward. “We’ll catch the rogue responsible,” I said fiercely. “I promise.”

Elizabeth nodded, her expression growing determined. “Yes,” she said, straightening her back. “We will.”