Chapter 8

CHAPTER

a

8

T here you are! We were too hungry, so we started without you."

Theodora Cronenworth Bennett, the new Lady Thornhill, who was called Theo by her family, smiled at her husband, Jackson, who'd just entered the room. She was seated at the dining table with his father, Cedric. They were tucked away at Jackson's rural estate of Thornhill. Breakfast had been served, the hot pans of food arranged as a buffet on the sideboard.

She and Cedric had dug in, but Jackson had hurried off to confer with a team of servants who were preparing to swathe the lawn in the rear garden. The grass hadn't been trimmed in ages and it had grown so high that it was a jungle. They had their work cut out for them.

"I'm glad you didn't wait for me," he said. "I wouldn't want you flagging on my account."

He winked at her, then rounded the table and gave her a quick kiss. His comment had been a sly reference to the fact that she thought she might be increasing. They'd only been married a few weeks, but she'd missed her monthlies. He was a cocky oaf and positive of his virility, so he was already picking out baby names, being certain he would have a son and heir in the cradle very soon.

He dished up a plate of food and sat on the chair next to her. He was Earl of Thornhill, but he didn't wave for a footman to complete the task for him. His title had been recently bestowed, and he hadn't yet shed the trappings of the common man he'd previously been. She doubted he ever would.

He'd come from humble beginnings, with his mother dying when he was a toddler, so he'd been raised by erratic, unreliable Cedric. His father had been a gambler and scoundrel and he'd supported them with money from his wagering. Unfortunately for Jackson, Cedric had lost as much as he'd won, so Jackson's childhood had been chaotic and unstable.

Cedric hadn't been totally awful though. He'd managed to accumulate the funds for Jackson to attend boarding school at a military academy. Then they'd scraped together another pile so Jackson could join the army as an adolescent. He'd served in India for over a decade and had returned to England after he'd been severely wounded while saving the life of a royal cousin.

The man had been in a convoy that had been attacked by a group of ruthless bandits, and Jackson had nearly perished protecting him in the fight.

Due to his terrible injury, he struggled with physical issues and health problems. In the battle, he'd been slashed by a saber and he had a scar from his hip to his ankle. His balance and lack of energy plagued him and it was difficult for him to walk much of a distance or ride a horse. The biggest blow had been to his ego. He'd always been a tough, valiant warrior, and it had been hard for him to accept that he would never recover his stamina.

As a reward for his valor, the King had honored him with his earldom and Thornhill. Initially, he hadn't deemed it to be much of a prize. It had stood empty for years so, when he'd first visited it, it had been neglected and decrepit, and the prospect of restoring it had been too daunting.

Theo had convinced him to change his mind about the property. The manor was a beautiful old house and the grounds had once been rolling with lush gardens. It had been abandoned and untended, but with some dedicated care, it would become a small paradise.

When she'd agreed to be his bride, she'd vowed to herself that she would spend her life mending the estate and her husband. They were both in much better shape than they'd been when she'd originally met him, so she was making hasty progress.

She'd grown up in the country, at the family's posh home of Peachtree Haven, and she was eager to live in the country again. She would embrace Thornhill and have it replace Peachtree, which was probably gone forever.

Peachtree had been sold after her father, Harold, had passed away, after her stepbrother, Arthur, had taken over their company of HH Imports. He'd claimed he had to part with it, so he could be closer to the warehouses in London, but in reality, he was an addicted gambler, and he'd used it to pay a gambling debt.

At the time, she hadn't known the truth, and it still galled her, so she tried not to think about it too often.

After three months of drama and intrigue, after she and her sister, Charlotte, had suffered a decade of calamity and misery, Theo had learned that they'd been lied to about their circumstances.

Harold had been very rich at his death, but their stepmother, Georgina, had told them that he'd had no Will, that there had been no bequests, no inheritances, no dowries set up. Theo and Charlotte had been young girls, so they hadn't questioned the situation.

They'd watched—helpless and furious—as Arthur had assumed control of HH Imports and basically ruined it. But over the summer, the facts had gradually been exposed: Harold had been cautious and organized and there had definitely been a Will. Georgina had hidden it because he'd left everything in trust to Theo and Charlotte, with the assets to be given to their husbands after they were married.

In response, Georgina had stolen what she could from them and Arthur had been her willing accomplice in the thievery. At the moment, they were locked in Newgate Prison, charged with numerous crimes. Their trials were approaching, but Theo hadn't been apprised of the specifics. Jackson was following the prosecution for her, but he refused to provide any gossip about what their sentences might be.

Theo was generally a kind person and he was afraid she'd want the judge to be too lenient. He was more pragmatic, more vengeful. His goal was to have them transported to the penal colonies in Australia and he wasn't about to let her prevent that result.

Jackson and their attorney, Boswell Coswell, had wrenched the company away from Arthur and had pried his greedy fingers out of the bank accounts, so he was in no condition to further beggar them. Mr. Coswell was very competent, and he'd retrieved what he could from Georgina too, but some issues were having to be litigated in the courts.

Arthur hadn't had the authority to sell Peachtree, and Attorney Coswell was working to recoup it, but the new owner wasn't inclined to relinquish it.

Theo had persuaded herself to forget about Peachtree. She had Thornhill instead, as well as a handsome, wonderful husband and a charming, amusing father-in-law. With her own father having been such a stern, cruel curmudgeon, she viewed Cedric as a marvelous gift.

Their relationship had started out on a rocky footing. When Theo had been six, and Charlotte five, their mother had run off with a scoundrel. She'd been an unhappy wife, and after several grueling years of matrimony, she'd snuck away and vanished.

Theo's father had never furnished any details about who the scoundrel had been, but Cedric was the unabashed culprit. By the time that connection was revealed, Theo had already been in love with Jackson and preparing to wed him, so it had thrown a wrench in their marital plans, but Cedric was a smooth-talker who'd worn her down with his sunny attitude and astute assessment of the world.

Jackson and his father were extremely devoted, so Theo had to forgive him for his doomed amour with her mother or they'd have had a very difficult domestic existence. She'd decided to like him for Jackson's sake—and for her own.

Cedric peered at Jackson and said, "The mail was delivered early. Is there any news we should hear about?"

Jackson glared at Cedric. "I might have received a letter, but I wish you wouldn't have inquired while we're still eating."

Theo's pulse raced. "Is it about Charlotte?"

Jackson glanced at her plate and scowled. "You're not finished. We can wait until you're done. I would hate to give you indigestion."

"Jackson Bennett! Tell me immediately."

Cedric snickered. "She only calls you Jackson Bennett when she's vexed with you. You'd better behave yourself."

Jackson sighed with regret, then he put down his fork and shifted to face her. "My men visited Mrs. Pemberton's school. They've verified that it was shut down."

"Oh, no. I was praying I'd been wrongly informed about the place."

They were discussing Charlotte and the fact that she'd disappeared.

Four years prior, Charlotte had left after a contentious quarrel with Georgina. She'd accepted a job as a teacher, and as she'd stomped out the door, she'd sworn to Theo that she wouldn't return until Georgina and Arthur were out of their lives.

Well, they were gone, but Charlotte was gone too, and to Theo's great frustration, Charlotte wasn't aware that Theo was at Thornhill. Peachtree Haven was lost to them and their London residence was boarded up and for sale. If Charlotte was in trouble and showed up in town and needing help, Theo wasn't there.

Theo was anxious to locate her, anxious to explain about the recent upheaval. Charlotte didn't have to stay away anymore. She could come home and carry on like the rich heiress she actually was. She'd be delighted to learn what had happened, delighted that Georgina and Arthur were suffering their just desserts. She could be vicious when riled, and she'd likely offer to aid Jackson in guaranteeing they were harshly punished.

"Why was the school closed?" she asked Jackson. "Did your men say?"

"The headmistress, Mrs. Pemberton? She was out of money, so the bank foreclosed. The property was sold without any warning to the students or staff. Mrs. Pemberton was afflicted with a nervous collapse and her relatives carted her off to a sanitarium."

"The poor woman," Theo murmured. "What about the staff? Someone must know where they are."

"There's a new owner, but he had no forwarding details about any of them, so my men will spend another week in the area. There's plenty of gossip swirling about the debacle, and I figure some of the teachers might be from the neighborhood. I bet she's hunkered down nearby and she doesn't even realize we're searching for her."

"What if we don't find her?"

"Don't worry that we won't," Jackson firmly stated. "Have I ever failed you?"

"Not yet," she retorted.

Cedric chimed in with, "Jackson is a handy fellow to have around in a pinch. If anyone can locate her, it's him."

"She has no idea that I'm married," Theo said to Jackson. "It's bizarre for me to think that I walked down the aisle with you, but she hasn't been apprised. And I'm a countess! She'll faint when she hears that."

"I hope she'll be glad for you."

"She will be," Theo replied with more confidence than she should have displayed. Her bond with Charlotte had been destroyed by the heartache Georgina had inflicted, and Theo couldn't predict her sister's opinion on any topic.

Jackson leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. He was very masculine, but he was very affectionate too. It was an odd dichotomy that made him an ideal husband.

"You probably ought to rush your investigation," Cedric said. "I'm sure you want to take her to Scotland, don't you?"

Cedric was referring to the most amazing and disturbing situation imaginable: Her mother, Sybil, was still alive! But Charlotte didn't know!

When they were girls, their father had told them she'd perished in France, but she hadn't. He'd hired detectives to track her down in Paris. They'd beaten Cedric to a pulp, then they'd returned her to England, where Harold had obtained a criminal indictment for desertion and adultery. He'd locked her in a convent in Scotland and she'd been trapped there for eighteen years.

It meant, by claiming their mother was deceased, he'd committed a terrible sin against his two daughters, and Theo was struggling to decide if she could ever forgive him or not.

Attorney Coswell was the one who'd found Sybil, and to Theo's astonishment, she was about to be released. Arthur was such a scofflaw that he'd quit paying the fees required to keep her incarcerated, so the Mother Superior was kicking her out.

Sybil had no money or friends, and she would be tossed out in the foreign land with just the clothes on her back. Coswell had secretly written to her and advised her that he'd travel to Scotland and fetch her away, but that was before he'd met Theo. Theo would be there instead, which would be a huge surprise to Sybil. It was too difficult to smuggle in a letter, so when Sybil exited through the heavy gate, anticipating Mr. Coswell, Theo would be there to greet her, with an offer to reside at Thornhill.

She couldn't guess if Sybil would accept or not, so she wasn't counting on any ending. As with her view of her father, she had conflicted sentiments about her mother. She wasn't certain she could forgive Sybil, but she was attempting to understand what had driven her away. With any luck, as understanding settled in, forgiveness would gradually follow.

Jackson was taking her to Scotland. It would be a monumental trip and she was determined to share it with Charlotte. But where was she?

Jackson glowered at Cedric and said, "Are you trying to distress my bride by mentioning Scotland?"

Cedric huffed. "I'm merely pointing out that the clock is ticking. Sybil is about to walk out of the convent. You can't dawdle in England and leave her on the side of the road."

"I'm not distressed," Theo hurried to insist. "I've convinced myself that it will work out perfectly, and I'm picturing Charlotte seated in the carriage with me."

"Then I'm positive your vision will come true," Jackson said. "I have no doubt about it at all."

He kissed her again and she felt better immediately.

v

Sybil Cronenworth crept into the meditation garden behind the chapel. It was a beautiful summer day, and she was remembering what it was like on the other side of the convent's walls. It had been an eternity since she'd strolled down a country lane.

She didn't recollect much about the surrounding area. When she'd arrived eighteen years earlier, her husband, Harold, had been with her. His men had transported her from France, then he'd gleefully delivered her to the facility, stopping first to administer a ferocious beating.

She'd been so battered that the nuns had had to hold her up and carry her in.

He'd been proud and pompous, and by her running away, she'd shamed him to the whole world. She ought to be grateful that he'd picked the convent rather than a jail or insane asylum. After all, she'd have died quickly in either of those places. Perhaps he'd intended for her to live a long life, so she could reflect on her crime and fume over how she'd been punished for it.

She didn't reflect much though. The past couldn't be altered, so contemplation was futile.

Her parents had forced her to wed Harold when she was fifteen, but he'd been a stern, cruel ogre who'd been so much older than she was. She'd been a vibrant, gorgeous artist who hadn't wanted to be a wife or a mother, and she'd failed miserably at both. Then she'd crossed paths with the handsome scoundrel, Cedric Bennett, and she'd glommed onto him as if he was just the savior she'd needed.

For all his faults, he'd actually brought her to Paris, as he'd promised he would, but he hadn't been the type of fellow who stayed around for the duration. About the time he'd been peering out the window and debating how hard it would be to tiptoe away and abandon her, Harold's men had caught up with them.

As they'd dragged her out the door, one of them had remained to pummel Cedric, and she'd always been curious as to whether he'd survived it. Had his anonymous body been found floating in the Seine?

She sighed, but not with regret. She'd had a beneficial experience at the convent. She'd calmed her mind and her attitude, had been taught to accept what she couldn't change. She hadn't repented because she wasn't sorry to have escaped her marriage. She was simply sorry for the trouble she'd stirred, for the people she'd hurt.

She was about to be released! Harold had quit paying the fees that kept her locked away, so she assumed the brutal goat had finally croaked. In one short month, she would saunter out the gate and be free. She was trying to be excited about the unexpected development, but she was terrified too about what would happen to her when she was alone and having to fend for herself.

She scooted behind a trimmed hedge that she used as a hiding spot and pulled out a letter that had been smuggled into her the prior week. The rules prohibited communication with anyone from the outside, so it was contraband that could be seized. It was from Attorney Coswell, so it was a precious gift that she would never relinquish. During the entire period she'd been imprisoned, he was the only one who'd ever written and this was his second letter.

The previous year, he'd furtively contacted her with questions about Harold's Will, which she had deemed to be ridiculous. She hadn't spoken to Harold in nearly two decades, so initially, she hadn't responded, but after the Mother Superior had announced that she was being evicted, she'd snuck out a message to him, to seek his advice about how to proceed. And he'd replied!

His opinion was that she should return to England, that she shouldn't tarry in the foreign country, and so far, he was being incredibly kind. He'd agreed to travel to Scotland to fetch her, then he'd help her settle in London. It was probably deranged to allow him to aid her. He might be a fraud or fiend, but she didn't have a lot of options, so she would trust him—unless he proved she shouldn't trust him.

She hadn't really peered down the road to devise future plans, so she'd been relieved to have him decide issues for her. She hadn't always been meek and waffling, but her lengthy confinement had altered her into a trembling, frail person. She wondered how long it would take for her to recover some of her aplomb.

Once upon a time, she'd been a happy, vivacious female who'd loved to paint and draw, who'd had dreams of being an artist in Paris. Now though, she had no dreams. What if she never reverted to her old self? What if she'd grown so pathetic that the old Sybil wasn't there anymore?

She read the letter again, then she folded it and stuck it in the bodice of her habit. His words comforted her; there was someone out there in the world who knew she was still alive. She wasn't invisible. Despite Harold's best efforts, she hadn't completely disappeared.

If Attorney Coswell seemed competent and reliable, she might have him make inquiries about her daughters. They'd be adults, likely married with children of their own.

She didn't need to meet them, but she thought she might like to hide next to their homes for a quick peek, so she could see the women they'd become. When she'd been younger, she'd been a great beauty, and they'd been such pretty girls. She'd like to see if they resembled her, if they were beautiful too.

She'd confer with Mr. Coswell and figure out how she could manage to find them, how she could manage to have that quick peek. If there was no way to locate them, she wouldn't fret about it. She'd suffered so many losses and she'd learned how to stumble forward and keep on going.

But if she could catch a glimpse of them, it would ease her weary soul enormously, and maybe she'd finally be able to sleep at night.