Chapter 14

By the time Sunday morning had arrived, Leah had perfected the art of stoicism. It hadn't taken her long to ascertain that her sister-in-law had already been broken by her overbearing husband, proven by the few times she had joined Agnes on her daily afternoon walk. Most of the time the conversations were stilted, with Agnes keeping her gaze downcast. There had been a couple days during the course of the past week they had been unable to enjoy the fresh air due to the rain. In that course. They had retreated to the sunroom where Agnes had worked on her needlepoint while Leah had attempted to read. However, with only a small selection of "approved" books recommended by her brother, she had given up the pretense and resorted to some light embroidery instead.

Mealtime was just as stale, with Henry carrying much of the conversation. Most of it was an attempt to inflate his own importance by boasting about the wonderful things he'd done in his position as the vicar. If he did address his wife or Leah, it was generally mixed with some sort of censure about how Agnes had failed to produce any fruit from their union, and how Leah was practically a spinster and how it would behoove her restless demeanor to wed.

Each day became more difficult for Leah to rise and face the gloomy days ahead. She wasn't looking forward to the Sunday service where Leah had feared Henry's sermons would be just as lengthy and full of lecture as his dinner conversation. Unfortunately, she had been correct.

Throughout the morning, she was subjected to the role of a woman according to Biblical standards, which she was quite sure was fabricated by her dear brother. Nevertheless, she held her tongue until the service had gratefully ended.

"Leah, I should like for you to meet a special inclusion to my flock."

If she hadn't been so annoyed by the fact that he kept referring to them all as "sheep," she might have been curious about the fact that he'd called her by her first name, indicating that they had a stronger bond than they actually did. They continued to speak in formal tones at home, and yet, when he chose to relax those rules, it wasn't to be questioned.

Leah turned to meet the gentleman he'd indicated. Immediately, a chill went down her spine when the man smiled at her. For unlike how she'd responded to Harlan, this man made her instantly wary. With coal black hair and piercing eyes of the same domineering shade, he inspected her as if she was a curiosity that he would like to explore at length.

"Might I present Mr. Francis Bernard? He is my brother-in-law. This is Miss Leah Lindquist, my younger sister, also recently arrived from France."

"A pleasure, Miss Lindquist," Mr. Bernard said in a tone that was likely meant to be silky but reminded her of a slithering snake sliding over her skin. "From what part of France do you hail?"

"Paris," she offered reluctantly, and didn't bother to elaborate.

"Lovely city. I daresay I miss the art most of all."

As if Leah had asked, Henry smiled and said proudly, "Mr. Bernard is joining us from Paris as well. He is staying in Birmingham at the moment, but I have been encouraging him to stay with us during his visit to England. When I mentioned you had arrived he was most interested to meet you."

Leah smiled tightly. She prayed that he kept his rooms in Birmingham, because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to have this man under the same roof she slept. He made her uneasy…

Suddenly, she remembered what Harlan had said about an assassin coming from France. The suspect had arrived the same night that Harlan had been shot. Surely it was just a coincidence, but…

"How long have you been in England, Mr. Bernard?" she asked nonchalantly.

His eyes immediately flicked to her and she could feel the ice coming from his very soul. "Not very long. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Merely curious. I have not been here long either."

He seemed to ease somewhat when she explained her claim, but now Leah was curious as to why he appeared so suspicious over what she assumed to be a general curiosity. "As two fellow travelers from France, perhaps we might spend some time together so that our loss does not weigh so heavily upon us."

His smile was oily, and she had to fight the urge to gag.

"I'm sure she would love that!" Henry declared enthusiastically. "I daresay that is a capital idea."

Leah did not echo her brother's sentiments, but she did wonder if she hadn't just stumbled upon someone worthy of interest. "Will you be returning to Paris soon?" she prodded.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I fear there is some business that I must conclude first." He offered her a bow, and then sent a nod to Henry before he turned and walked away.

Leah watched him go and decided that, before she wrote to Matthew with her concerns, she would try to engage Agnes to see what she could learn about her brother, Francis.

However, the moment she walked into the house, she didn't have the chance to say anything as her brother intercepted her. His expression did not appear to be pleased. "Miss Lindquist, might you explain your hostility toward Francis?"

She looked at Henry quizzically. "What do you mean?"

He sniffed in displeasure. "You seemed very curt with him when he is family and should be treated with respect."

Leah wanted to point out that she was his sister, and yet, he hadn't bothered to treat her in a similar fashion. But since she wanted to keep the peace, she swallowed down the hot retort that burned on her tongue and said, "In my experience, respect has to be earned. I do not know Mr. Bernard as you do, and I don't see where a few inquiries were such a detrimental thing to ask."

Immediately, Henry's eyes bulged and his face turned a mottled shade of red. "I have found Francis to be very accommodating. He has given a sizeable donation to the church and with his tie to this family, you need to be a bit more charitable to his cause!"

Leah understood now why her brother was so eager to stand in defense of this man. He had offered something to Henry that she could not. She was a draw on his purse strings, whereas the kind and considerate Mr. Bernard had handed over a plethora of funds. It made her wonder how he'd been able to be so generous. He must have acquired some wealth during his years. She pondered what he might have done to do so.

Then again, if Mr. Bernard was tied to the rebellion, that would account for much. And what a perfect place for a man with ill intent toward the monarchy than to retreat to a small village such as Dudley? After proving his loyalty to a vicar and charming a few locals, he was sure to pass suspicion. Leah, on the other hand, wasn't so easily convinced of his innocence. Perhaps Henry should be watched closely as well. She hadn't seen him in years. She had no doubt where his politics might lie, and how far he might go to help achieve those odds.

For now, she had to play her part. Lowering her head to appear repentant, she said, "Forgive me, Mr. Lindquist. I fear that I had a moment of weakness and was led astray."

He sniffed, but seemed placated. "It would do you some good to reflect on your actions, sister."

"Of course." She went so far as to bob a slight curtsy, just so he believed he had the upper hand in this particular game.

As she entered her chamber, she went straight to her writing desk where she withdrew some paper. She dipped her pen in the ink and poised it above the page. She wanted to speak to Agnes first, but considering her reticence to speak a word, something told her she wouldn't dare speak out against anything concerning Henry. Thus, she intended to write to Matthew.

If Harlan still considered her safety to be a main priority, she would put that to the test. And if Mr. Bernard was as villainous as she believed, then surely Harlan would come to her aid.

She closed her eyes, picturing him lying beside her during their last night together, and her heart ached. She vowed that they would be together again.

She wouldn't be able to bear her current circumstances otherwise.

Harlan returned to his townhouse,his steps shuffling over the threshold . It had been nearly a sennight and every time he walked through the front door, he practically collapsed onto his bed. The day before Harlan was so weary that he'd fallen asleep with one boot still on.

He was working himself into exhaustion trying to decipher where his assassin could be and when he planned to strike. He had joined forces with the Metropolitan Police who he instructed under the authority of Lord Melbourne and they had combed the city of London until there was no stone left unturned. Still, there was nothing.

He might have done the same now, but there was a surprise waiting for him when he arrived. "Matthew?"

He was sitting in the parlor with Hugh, but both men stood when he entered.

The older man shook his head and said, "You look like hell."

Harlan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I feel like it." He dropped his hand when he considered the ramifications of Matthew's unexpected visit, abruptly on alert. "Has something happened with Leah?"

Matthew glanced at Hugh before he spoke, which immediately put Harlan ill at ease. "She wrote to me." He held up the letter. "I decided it would be best if you read it yourself."

Harlan crossed the room and grabbed the missive and eagerly read the words that she'd written in her flowery hand.

I am sending this directly from the post in the village. It is difficult to leave my brother's house unnoticed, but I must get this letter to you. I feel that the assassin that Harlan might be looking for is in Dudley at this very moment. He is Henry's brother-in-law. We were introduced yesterday after the Sunday service. His name is Francis Bernard. He makes me terribly uneasy with his dark hair and direct glare. He recently arrived from Paris as well. I thought, what better way to hide in plain sight, than in a small village where most everyone minds their own affairs? He also offered a sizeable donation to my brother that I found particularly interesting…

If you feel this is necessary to relay to Harlan, please do so at the earliest convenience. I have always gone with my instinct, and it is telling me to act.

Harlan's hesitation to return to Leah was removed the moment he read her

carefully penned words. He should never have sent her away, nor left her to begin with. She was a more intelligent woman than he'd given her credit for, and if she thought that attention should be paid to Mr. Bernard, then that was what he would do.

"Harlan?" Hugh's query broke through his reverie.

"Take my place with the constable tomorrow. Matthew and I are going to make a journey north."

Hugh exhaled a heavy breath and muttered. "It's about damned time."

Harlan chose to ignore him as he went to gather a few things. When he returned, he asked Matthew, "I assume you came here by coach?"

He inclined his head. "Naturally."

Before Harlan left, he turned back to Hugh. "Although I trust Leah's intuition, it could be wrong."

Hugh shook his head. "Miss Lindquist is as intelligent as she is beautiful. I believe she has the right of it and Mr. Bernard is the man we are looking for." As Harlan started to go, he added, "You would do well not to let Leah out of your sight again."

Harlan's jaw clenched as he grasped the edge of the door. "I don't intend to. So long as she will have me."

It had beentwo days since Leah had written to Matthew, and she was starting to wonder if Harlan considered her missive as nothing more than a request for help to flee a discordant situation. She truly wouldn't have wasted his time if she thought Mr. Bernard didn't bear a closer inspection.

Francis had come to call each day, staying for tea the first time and then later for supper the second. Each time Leah set eyes on him, she became more convinced that he was there with malicious intent. Perhaps against her. If he knew of her tie to Harlan, then he would certainly find her of particular note. It could be that he was counting on Harlan to ride to her rescue, where he could finish the job he'd started the night Harlan had been injured. She had heard the assassin was well informed. He probably had spies all over Britain to assist him. As Harlan said, it wasn't a spontaneous murder that was about to take place, but a methodical planning process that had been going on for months.

Leah slid her spoon around in her soup as her mind wandered. It wouldn't be the first time a female monarch was resisted by the public, but Mary Tudor had changed that view rather quickly when she assumed the throne as the first queen. Her predecessors had offered much improvement and revitalization. The main impediment that Victoria faced was her age and because republicanism was gaining more popularity than the monarchy. Until she married and bore an heir, her position was quite precarious. Any possibility of revolt had to be severed in order to save the royal lines of England.

Leah had hoped to enjoy the sunshine that following afternoon with her sister-in-law, but she had been told that Agnes wasn't feeling well, so she had set out on her own about the grounds.

She had nearly made her way back to the house when she looked up and her heart stuttered in her chest. Francis was making his way toward her. "Good day, Miss Lindquist. Henry told me I might find you in the gardens."

Leah smiled tightly. "Mr. Bernard." She swallowed hard. "I was just on my way back inside." She attempted to move past him, but he smoothly stepped in front of her path.

Taking her arm, he turned her back around. "I'm sure you can spare a few moments for some polite conversation," he said smoothly.

Leah didn't like this. At all. Every instinct she had was screaming at her, telling her to run to the house and lock the door behind her. Unfortunately, without anyone on her side, she had to withstand his presence or risk her brother's wrath, and possible expulsion from the house. Failing anywhere else to turn, she could find herself on the streets if she didn't play by the rules.

Holding the retort that was on her tongue, she said instead, "I didn't realize we had anything to discuss."

"Come now," he cajoled, but she could sense the underlying steel in his tone. "We both don't believe that's true."

She cringed with every sound his shoes made upon the pebbled path. She imagined it as a dire warning, a death knell. Resisting the urge to pull at her stays, which had suddenly gotten rather tight, she said evenly, "You have me at a disadvantage, sir."

He paused and stood over her. His dark eyes were almost black. She imagined that they reflected his hollow soul. "Not for long." He stepped back slightly when he heard the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house. "I have asked your brother for permission to escort you to a special gathering this evening." He paused. "I am not in the habit of being refused, so I hope that you will accept my proposal."

Leah ceased to breathe. "Why are you so interested in me?"

He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Because I desire something you have." A cold sweat broke out over her body as he straightened once more. "We shall speak at length tonight."

She prayed her voice didn't quaver when she said, "I shall endeavor to wear my best dress, Mr. Bernard."

"You learn quickly, my dear." He touched a finger to his hat and walked away.

It wasn't until he turned a corner that Leah sagged against the side of the house. Tears stung her eyes, but she could not give in to the weakness that had abruptly shaken her to her core. Harlan had told her that he was concerned for her safety, which was why he didn't want her to get involved in such dangerous affairs.

After her latest interaction with Mr. Bernard, she could understand why. For the first time in her life, she was frightened. Not only that, but she was more convinced than ever that he was the assassin intending to kill the queen.

She just prayed that she wouldn't become his first victim.