Page 49

Again, this did not promise to be a pleasant conversation.

It was nearing early evening which meant that Miss Dowding and his daughter should be taking a lesson together, likely one of the main reading rooms. Frederick was about to go searching, steeling himself for the conversation ahead, when Mr. Bonnet, one of the many valets in his employee, appeared from around the corner.

“Your Grace!” he cried as if from shock.

“Mr. Bonnet.” He approached the valet. “I am looking for my daughter and Miss Dowding. Have you seen them recently?”

Mr. Bonnet’s eyes were wide set, his hands fidgeted at his waist, and his chin trembled from what could only be read as fear. A common enough reaction from most of the maids and valets when they were forced to speak with Frederick, only this was a little worse than what even he was used to.

“Mr. Bonnet, is something wrong?”

His eyes somehow grew wider. “I… I should not say.”

He leveled a glare at her. “Speak, Mr. Bonnet. Now.”

He sucked through his teeth and looked away, hands still fidgeting. “Earlier… I was checking on one of the maids, Mrs. Tibbs, Your Grace, double checking that she was up to date on her daily choirs–and she was, Your Grace. She was working admirably.”

“All right…”

“She was hanging out the bedding, Your Grace. Freshly cleaned, they were. Only… well… I do not want to cause alarm but… but… but…”

“Speak, Mr. Bonnet,” he growled, jaw clenched. “Now!”

“There was blood on them! Not a lot, most had clearly been washed off, but there were stains, Your Grace. Fresh ones.”

“Bl - blood?”

“I have seen your daughter since,” he made sure to say. “I checked on her, and she seems fine. But the blood, Your Grace. I thought you should know.”

Frederick might have felt a surge of fear. He might have felt a pang of panic. Worry, for blood on his daughter’s sheets should have caused great alarm. Only… well, he knew his daughter well enough to know the reason for said blood stains. This was not the first time that blood had been found in her washing, and in his mind, he could think of but one reason why.

Slowly, Frederick felt his anger rising. Slowly, he felt his fury gathering. His daughter… for how much he loved her… again and again she disobeyed him. Worse that Miss Dowding had allowed such a thing!

All thoughts of his reason for needing to see Miss Dowding vanished in that moment, swept away by a far more pressing concern.

“Where is she?” he growled, body shaking. Mr. Bonnet gasped. “Where!”

Unable to speak, Mr. Bonnet turned and pointed a trembling finger down the hallway, and Frederick was off and charging.

“Isabella!” he called in fury. “Isabella!”

He stormed through the house until he came upon his daughter and her governess. They sat together in a small reading room, evidently in the middle of a lesson as a needle and thread rested on their laps. Laughing and joking together as they worked, the sight of Frederick sweeping into the room like a tempest put a stop to that.

“Father!” Isabella gasped, dropping the needle and thread. “What is?—”

“I have warned you, Isabella.” His body shook, despite how desperately he tried to control his temper. “Time and time again, I have warned you.”

“Warned me?” she swallowed and glanced at Miss Dowding. “What are you… I do not understand what you mean?”

“Blood,” he hissed. “Mr. Bonnet told me of the blood stains in your bedding.”

His daughter’s eyes went wide, confirming immediately the truth of the matter. A quick glance at Miss Dowding as if for help?—

“Do not look to your governess for support.” He made for her. “I will deal with her in a moment.”

“Father! Is it not what you…”

“Not what I think?” he scoffed, stopping before the two, body still shaking. “Tell me then, daughter. What is it? Why time and time again must I hear from the help of your actions—after time and time again of me commanding you not to partake in them.” He looked down at her for an answer.