Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

G eorge sent word ahead to let Frederick know that he would be arriving shortly. There was nothing in his message to suggest bad news… and nothing to suggest good news either. Simply a statement of arrival, leaving Frederick's imagination to turn as it had been doing the last three days.

He paced his study as he waited. Hands folded behind his back. Strides long and purposeful, as if he had somewhere he needed to be. Expression determined. Jaw clenched tight. Mostly, he was trying his best not to let panic overtake him, a constant reminder to himself that this was all in his head and a few minutes from now he would be laughing at how silly he had been.

But still… he could not escape that feeling deep in the recess of his mind. He could not outrun the sense of inevitability which haunted him. For three days now, he had done what he could to ignore it, but now, it was finally time to learn the truth.

A knock at the door brought him back into the room.

Frederick strode around his desk and forced himself to sit, even if he was beginning to tremble with anticipation. He settled. Straightened his back. A deep breath… and then another.

"Enter!" he called finally.

The door opened slightly ajar, and George stepped inside. The moment his large body was through the gap, he turned and closed it gently, an innocuous action but the need for absolute privacy inherent in the act had Frederick's hair standing on end.

"You weren't waiting long, were you?" George asked as he crossed the room.

"Did you find anything?" Frederick asked, not at all in the mood for small talk. "What did you learn?"

About to sit across from Frederick, George paused and looked about. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Brandy." Frederick indicated to the liquor cabinet across the room. "Help yourself. But make it quick."

George hurried to fix himself a drink. "And one for you?"

"I would rather not. Unless…" He swallowed. "Do I need it?"

George's back straightened. Hesitation. And then, he poured a second glass. The sight of such an action had Frederick's stomach sinking, for it was proof enough of what he feared, what he had been expecting, and what he had prayed to not be the case.

This was not going to be a pleasant conversation. Worse than that, if what he feared turned out to be reality, it was but the beginning of what promised to be a very unpleasant evening.

"I would not begrudge you…" George put the glass of brandy down before Frederick took a sip of his own and then fell into his chair with a groan. "My legs…" He groaned again and stretched them out. "Two days of riding, and I can hardly stand. Ironic, as all I have been doing these last two days is sitting."

Frederick said nothing. He took a sip of his brandy, forcing himself to swallow as his stomach was already beginning to turn.

"And the heat…" George shook his head to himself. "Have you been outside at all today? It is absolutely monotonous how hot?—"

"George," Frederick growled at him, a scowl fixed on his face. "What did you learn?"

George looked at Frederick hesitantly. Another sip of his brandy. A twitching of the side of his mouth. A shadow passing behind his eyes that spoke to just how bad the news he had was.

"Nothing good," he said with a sigh. "Nothing good…"

And Frederick, bracing himself for the worst, took another sip of his drink. A long and deep one, for he knew now that he was going to need it.

It was three nights ago now that Lady Tattershell had claimed to know Miss Dowding. Only, the busybody gossip had claimed that Miss Dowding was in fact named Miss Dunn, and her father was Lord Edgerton, not Lord Scriven! An obvious mistake, for it had to be, and Frederick was happy to pretend as such for there was no point giving in to such lies.

Try as he might to shake these mistruths from his conscience, Frederick had spent the following day looking at Miss Dowding a little closer. He began to take note of the way she acted whenever he breached the possibility of her moving in with him, a ploy which he had assumed meant that she did not have the same feelings for him as he did her. Now seen in a different light, what if the reason she was so eager to leave with Esther when the time came was because she didn't want her past coming up? A past that wasn't the one she had given…

He could not believe it to be true. There was no way! But it ate at Frederick such that he felt he had no choice but to confirm it for the lie it was so he might be able to move on once and for all.

With no other option before him, Frederick had reached out to George to do some digging on his behalf. For two days now, George had ridden throughout London and across the country in search of the truth. And now that he was back, it was time to learn whether Lady Tattershell was mistaken or if there was more to Miss Dowding than anybody knew.

"I started with Lady Tattershell," George began seriously. "As requested, I kept my reasons for wanting to learn about this Miss Dunn to myself—even if the old bat may have suspected. But Lady Tattershell did not mind telling me what she knew either way. She was eager for it!"

"And Miss Dunn…" A lump grew in Frederick's throat. "What do we know of her?"

"She is indeed Lord Edgerton's daughter—the woman is real, if that is what you mean. From what I was able to learn from Lady Tattershell, this Miss Dunn has been missing for two years now."

"Two - two years?" He could feel the walls closing in.

"Apparently, she ran away from home. Nobody knows the reason, not even Lady Tattershell. Even if she did have her theories."

"Which were?"

George shrugged. "Apparently, Lord Edgerton is in tremendous debt although strangely Lady Tattershell could not recall any sort of marriage arrangement prior to Miss Dunn fleeing. Even more bizarre…" He hesitated, biting into his lip as if he was not sure whether or not to speak.

"George…" Frederick braced himself. "What is it?"

"Lord Edgerton, or so Lady Tattershell claims, has made little effort to try and find his daughter. In fact, most assume that he sent her away himself. Now, clearly, if she ran away, he might have started the lie to cover himself and not bring embarrassment, but the way Lady Tattershell spoke, it was as if he promulgated it. Although why he would do such a thing…" He clicked his tongue in thought.

"What else?" Frederick asked stiffly.

George's expression softened, a look of concern, even worry. "You asked me to be careful in my research, so I opted not to visit Lord Edgerton himself. Rather, I visited his sister-in-law's daughter, for I know her a little and thought it might be a little easier to explain my sudden interest in her cousin."

"And?"

"I told her that Miss Dunn was thought to have been seen on my estates in the north—that I was there to find a painting of the girl, so I could confirm if it was her or not. Her cousin, a Miss Galpin, was happy to provide me a portrait of this Miss Dunn from when she was roughly sixteen. Not a perfect facsimile as it was a landscape with her in the foreground, but…" He leaned forward, expression soft, even pained. "Frederick, it was her. There could be no doubt."

"Wh - who?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Miss Dowding is Miss Dunn. I do not know why. I do not know how. But it is her. It must be."

The world turned.

Frederick fell back in his chair as his nightmares shifted into reality. As the lies compounded on top of him. As the deceit opened and made itself known. He thought to finish his brandy but felt sick, like he might vomit. He thought to deny the claims but could not see the point as he had suspected this for days. He thought to shout. To let his emotions roar! So many things he wished to do, none of which materialized.

Rather, he simply sat there, struck to silence as the weight of everything came crashing down on top of him.

"I have been doing some thinking," George continued as Frederick sat in silence. " Why Miss Dowding—Miss Dunn, whatever! Why she might have done this." He looked at Frederick for confirmation to continue, but Fredrick was barely able to register it. "Money. It has to be money."

Frederick forced himself back into the room. "Money? What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Her father is broke—everyone seems to know it. Likely, he was struggling to arrange a suitable marriage for her, a dowry that would cover the extreme debt he is in. What if this entire thing, the charade, was all part of his plan?"

"Plan? What…" Frederick could not even finish the question, for he understood completely what his friend meant.

"You, Frederick. You are the plan. She becomes your grandmother's companion through what appears chance but is anything but. She bides her time, waiting until you two meet—heck, she might have set the fire that burned down your grandmother's estate in the first place! And now that she is here, she is free to trick you into a marriage, secure her fortune, and then snatch it right out from under you."

"No… that is… that is impossible."

"I have looked into this Lord Edgerton," George continued, "and believe me, from what people say, nothing is beneath him. I do not want to sully Miss Dowding—Dunn's, name. I do not want to throw allegations at her, but it fits. She is using you, Frederick. She and her father are using you."

"No…" He felt the anger rising.

"Think about it," he continued. "Really think. Your initial attraction to her was by design. She knew the type of man who you were, that you would like a little fire to stoke the flames of attraction."

"No… she did not…" He felt the fury brimming.

"And even Isabella, she has been using her to get to you."

"I can't believe that she would…" He felt himself beginning to shake as the reality settled in a way he could not deny.

"Everything she has done, sadly, has been to tempt you. To trick you. To use you?—"

"Enough!" Frederick roared finally, jumping from his chair, bearing down on his friend as if he meant to tear his throat out with his own two hands. "I will not sit here and listen to this… this slander! The things you say, you have no proof! You have no… no idea as to what you speak! Lies! They are all lies!" Spittle flew from his mouth as might have fire, were it possible.

George did not look phased. Or fearful. He stayed seated, meeting Frederick's angered glare, perhaps the only man in the free world who could do such a thing. "I am just the messenger," he said.

"You have no proof! And I refuse to believe anything you have said!"

"That is up to you," George agreed. "But please, please , do not ignore what I have told you here today. She is Miss Dunn; that is fact, Frederick. Why she has lied to you…" He sighed. "…you must find out."

Frederick's body was still shaking. His heart raced, and his breathing roared. He could not believe what he was being told! He refused. After all that he and Miss Dowding—for that was still how he thought of her—had been through, there was no way. Only…

Why lie? Why hide who she was? And yes, he told himself that she was the one who seemed hesitant to move in with him, but what if it was an act, a longer part of the con? She knew him as well as any and might have known that her denial would only tempt him further. Was she playing him? Could she do such a thing?

"I have to go," George said suddenly. "I have been away from home for two days, and I feel that you might need some time to think."

Still standing, Frederick looked past George to the closed door. "Yes," he said absently. "Perhaps that is for the best."

George nodded once and turned to leave. When he reached the door, however, about to open it, Frederick had a thought. Yes, he could be subtle about this, and he could poke and pry and try and learn the truth in his own time. But that was never his way. He had been made to look like a fool, and it was time to find out why.

"George," he called after his friend, "on your way out, might you do me one last favor?"

George frowned. "Anything."

"Seek out Miss Dowding for me, will you? And send her to me. It is time that she and I had a little chat."

"Of course…" George bit into his lip, again that sense of worry building. "And good luck, Frederick, with whatever happens."

He left after that, giving Frederick some time to think. Sitting back down, his foot tapped, his arms shook, his body ran hot such that he could barely sit still. No idea what he was going to say. No idea how he was going to say it. He knew one thing to be true: by the time that Miss Dowding left this study, he would know the truth.