Page 23 of A Lady’s Guide to Murder

CHAPTER 22

Confessions

An imaginary noose was tightening around Henrietta’s neck, yet she refused to capitulate to fear. As she walked with Theo towards Severn House, her veil again covering her face, she told him almost everything Désirée du Pont had said. She didn’t mention the opera dancer’s idle threat.

She and Theo did discuss the price on her head, however. To verify Miss du Pont’s claim, he purchased a selection of newspapers, which they read at a dark coffee house on Piccadilly. Indeed, it seemed that although Libby Forman had been charged with the murder, the magistrate still sought to question everyone who had been near Edmund that day – and of them, the only person who had not cooperated with the investigation was Her Grace, the Duchess of Severn. Furthermore, the articles claimed, it appeared the duchess had vanished. There was an offer for information on her whereabouts and anyone caught harbouring Her Grace might face criminal charges.

‘It seems as if the magistrate suspects me,’ Henrietta said. ‘Why then has he charged Libby with the murder?’

‘Perhaps he’s hedging his bets.’ Theo scanned a page of The Times . ‘Giving himself two options to take to trial. One, whereby you and your maid collaborated, which circumstantial evidence might support. But if public opinion resists the hanging of a duchess – or your father exerts his influence successfully – he can change his tale. Say you were always innocent and then condemn your maid. Above all else, he will want to appear competent and prevent rioting.’

Henrietta pressed her roiling stomach. ‘He doesn’t care if an innocent woman dies?’

‘The poor are expendable.’ Theo looked up from the paper, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. ‘Did you know your maid well?’

‘Not particularly.’ She picked at the edge of the scarred tabletop with her thumbnail. ‘She had only been in my employ for a month before Edmund’s death.’

Theo settled back in his chair, coffee in hand. ‘Would you be sad if she hanged in your stead, this woman you barely know?’

‘Of course!’ Henrietta was appalled that he would even ask. ‘Although I take offence to “in my stead”, for I am innocent as well. I don’t want anyone to die for a crime they didn’t commit.’

He stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles. ‘Yet it happens frequently enough.’

‘Are you thinking of your mother?’ she asked gently.

He sipped his coffee. ‘In truth, I don’t know for absolute certain my mother wasn’t guilty, though she pleaded innocent at her trial. In the interest of fairness, I suppose it’s possible she might have felt forced to steal to provide for herself and for me. I suspect, however, that the mistress contrived the supposed theft to destroy her.’

‘Why, though?’ Henrietta asked, aghast. ‘What could possibly motivate such a depraved action?’

He lifted a hand. ‘Jealousy? Revenge?’

Henrietta’s eyes widened. ‘Oh!’ She caught her breath and leant closer, speaking even lower than before. ‘The master of the house was your father, was he not?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

‘Oh, Theo!’ Henrietta clasped her hands to her heart. ‘Your poor dear mother’s tale is the most dreadful I’ve ever heard. Surely, surely your father tried to protect her? What prevented his success?’

‘He was dead by the time his wife brought forward the complaint. He drowned, in fact, not far from Millford – that was the investigation to which I alluded yesterday. But perhaps he wouldn’t have saved her, even if he’d lived.’

‘No, no, that cannot be.’ Henrietta covered Theo’s hand with one of hers. ‘I know he would have saved her. Your father must have been a good man.’

His straight brows lifted. ‘Why on earth do you assume such a thing?’

‘Because you are good,’ she said ardently, though she was revealing sentiments perhaps more wisely left hidden. ‘You have been so kind to me these last two days.’

A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but it disappeared swiftly, replaced by a hardened edge. ‘I’m embroiled in your mess now, so what choice do I have?’

‘A great deal of choice.’ She wasn’t put off by his manner. They were both under considerable strain and he must feel the threat of criminal repercussions for aiding her, as she felt that phantom noose. ‘You could take me to Bow Street and collect your reward. Instead, you’re helping me.’

His face was a mask. ‘Well, as for my father’s goodness, I doubt it. While I have never heard him described as a cruel man, he was most certainly an infamous womaniser – and do you not feel that any man who seduces an innocent maid, barely eighteen years of age, in his employ, under his protection, cannot be a good man?’

‘It is sadly not uncommon.’ Henrietta traced the rim of her coffee cup, a suspicion forming. Enberry Abbey was near Millford, and Edmund had once told her Marlow’s father – his godfather – had drowned in a river accident. ‘Theo, I realise your father died before I was born, but do I know the family?’

His eyes cut to hers. ‘Yes.’

Ah, so it was as she’d thought. Neither good nor bad, but certainly interesting to contemplate. ‘Your father was the previous Lord Marlow.’

He tightened his jaw, looking off into the distance, but gave a curt nod.

‘You’re Edmund’s cousin,’ she said quietly.

Theo gave her an incredulous stare. ‘ That is the relation you mention, when there is a nearer, dreadful one?’

She reached for his hand again. ‘Dear Theo. The present viscount being your half-brother doesn’t alter who you are. You are good, kind and brilliant, as different to him as the sun is to the darkest night.’

‘I despise him,’ Theo hissed. ‘He is vicious and vindictive, and cares for no one but himself. Yet the same man’s blood runs in my veins as in his.’

Henrietta leant closer. ‘Is that why my tryst with Marlow affected you so?’

Theo gripped her hand tightly. ‘He would have hurt you. I don’t know how, whether in heart, mind, or body, but he would have hurt you had you taken him as your lover. Far more than a mention in a gossip column that almost everyone treats as rubbish.’

‘But I didn’t need your interference. I had already come to that conclusion myself. That’s why I sent him away.’

‘I know,’ he said heavily. ‘Rather, I know now .’

He was the picture of misery. Henrietta let the matter go, turning instead to something gnawing at her curiosity. ‘Do you think Edmund knew of your connection to Marlow when he saw you in the workhouse?’

‘I doubt it,’ Theo answered. ‘Neither Marlow nor your husband ever gave me reason to believe they suspected a connection. Or anyone else, for that matter.’

She tapped her fingers on the table. ‘He couldn’t have known. If he had, he would have taken a greater interest in you. You see, though of course I never knew the late Viscount Marlow – your father, I mean – he was Edmund’s godfather, and dear to my husband’s heart. Edmund spoke nothing but good about him. Yes, your father was known to have a weakness for women, but he was also a brilliant politician, a great Whig leader and well regarded in society. It was Marlow’s mother whom Edmund disliked profoundly. He described her as vicious to servants, savage to her horses, even degrading to her own son. She’s the reason Edmund always strove to be at peace with Marlow, even when Marlow would attack him ruthlessly in Parliament. He said Marlow hadn’t stood a chance to learn kindness with such a mother.’

‘Well, naturally, I despise her also. She murdered my mother – though I’ve always assumed my father’s unfaithfulness drove her to some of her cruelty.’ Theo spat out the word ‘father’, as if it were distasteful. ‘No matter if he possessed some leadership qualities, I shall never think well of him.’

‘In the end,’ Henrietta said gently, ‘his character is irrelevant. You are a good and kind man, and that is all that matters.’

Her words did not seem to soothe him. ‘Why all this profession of my goodness?’ he asked, his tone sceptical. ‘I thought you hated me?’

‘I don’t hate you.’ She looked at her folded hands. ‘In fact, at the current moment, I’m inclined to think very well of you indeed.’

‘Now that you know I’m half blue-blooded?’ he asked cuttingly.

She grew angry. ‘Stop it, Theodore! Such a comment is unworthy of you and demeans me. I think well of you because you have been exceptionally generous and good to me, and I am extremely grateful.’

Theo’s shoulders slouched. His small flare of temper melted away, leaving only quiet sadness in its wake. His frank but never frightening displays of emotion – quickly tempered – were something Henrietta appreciated, after living so long with someone who kept nearly all emotion hidden.

‘Forgive me, Henrietta.’ He raked a hand through his hair before dropping his arm heavily on the tabletop. ‘This subject doesn’t bring out the best of me.’

They fell silent, finishing their coffees and perusing the periodicals, but Henrietta struggled to concentrate and soon suggested they walk to Severn House.

‘We’ll have to wait for Perceval to emerge, for my servants won’t permit us access unless I reveal myself,’ she said as they strolled briskly along Park Lane. ‘Let us sit in the park and watch the door.’

Henrietta led Theo through the Chesterfield Gate to a bench with a clear view of Severn House through Hyde Park’s wrought-iron railing.

As they sat, his nearness brought the pleasant scent of shaving soap. ‘So what’s the plan?’ he asked. ‘How do you intend to confront Perceval?’

Henrietta considered. ‘I must approach him when there are no servants about. Perceval isn’t a brave man. If we can catch him alone, we have a chance of frightening him into damning himself.’ She frowned, glancing behind her shoulder. The park was dotted with pedestrians strolling the lanes and equestrians on the bridle paths. ‘The trouble is, every moment in Mayfair increases my chances of being recognised.’

‘If you are spotted, we will run,’ Theo said. ‘I know the back ways, the concealed lanes, the hidden places. We’ll flee to the horses and out of London, where we’ll disappear into the country to continue the investigation.’

Henrietta blinked, impressed by his forethought. ‘That’s all well but for our lack of money.’

‘I am strong and a hard worker. I’ll provide for you.’ Theo’s voice was steady, his gaze unwavering, and Henrietta felt a flutter in her chest. ‘Not in the manner to which you are accustomed, but I will keep you clothed and well fed, with a roof protecting you, a fire in your hearth and a comfortable bed to sleep upon. Anything you need, I shall earn, so you may work towards proving your innocence in safety.’

Her heart swelled as if it would burst; it was the most romantic declaration she’d ever received. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a simple country life with him, extending far beyond their investigation. She pushed aside thoughts of the inevitable hardships – including her lack of housewifery knowledge like baking or sewing – and instead bathed her vision in a golden wash. A quaint cottage with roses and chickens, with Theo stacking wood while blurry-featured poppets ran about his legs. And, for a moment, it was all she wanted. But reality soon intruded. She could not live in hiding, in obscurity, cut off from her family for ever. Neither did she want to abandon her dreams of aiding reforms and supporting Theo’s journalism.

Still, Henrietta keenly felt the generosity of his offer – and with that, she knew two things: Theo would make an excellent husband and father, and the future Mrs Theodore Hawke would be a fortunate woman indeed.

‘Thank you.’ She slipped her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. The weight of her previous deception tugged upon her conscience and she wanted nothing but honesty between them. ‘Theo, I wish to make a confession.’

Theo’s last defences against loving Henrietta crumbled when she explained the terms of her husband’s will and confessed she’d considered using him to get her with child.

‘I always had reservations, Theo.’ Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. ‘I don’t think it was quite fair of Edmund to ask me to take a lover – not when I was so innocent and didn’t understand what it would entail – though he was as trapped by circumstances as I was. But the fact that I had reservations doesn’t excuse that if you had … you-know-what with me last night, I would have let you complete the act in whatever manner you chose, without telling you first about the will. I am heartily ashamed of myself, Theo.’

He embraced her, gently pressing her head against his shoulder. ‘I forgive you.’

She blinked up at him. ‘How can you so quickly?’

‘Because I know you were acting out of a misguided sense of duty.’

‘You understand!’ she said, as if it were a marvel. ‘Duty and individuality have clashed within me all my life – and that conflict made me miserable during my marriage. As a child, I was told to sit when I wanted to run, to be silent when I wanted to question, to conform to the values of others when I wanted to be true to myself. I was nothing beyond my pedigree, my face, my body. A tool of advancement for my family, a vessel for my husband’s heir. But there are some things I cannot do, even for duty. To be dishonest is to betray myself.’

He smiled tenderly and she reached for his hand. ‘Theo, please know that even when I gave myself other reasons, I wanted you for you . More than simply to fulfil a duty. Whatever our differences, I’ve always recognised you as a man of integrity, albeit sometimes misguided, and the more time we spent together, the more I found to admire. Your kindness and generosity. Your cheerfulness through every stage of our journey. I admire how you express your emotions openly, even anger, and yet forgive quickly. Though,’ she added, her brow furrowing slightly, ‘I’m not certain why you were angry with me both times before we were intimate.’

‘I was angry because I knew you were withholding the truth,’ he said. ‘Perceval revealed these terms of the will when he called upon me two days ago.’

She drew back to meet his gaze, but he pulled her close again, unwilling to release their embrace yet. ‘That’s why you didn’t … complete it.’

He rubbed soothing circles on her back. ‘No, love, that’s not why I didn’t take your virginity last night.’ He’d refrained because he’d known he’d fall in love if he did. Now, he found himself in the same hopeless situation, even without the coupling.

‘I wouldn’t have thought you would have gone through with it if you had known,’ she said.

‘I wouldn’t have finished inside you without protection, no. But there are ways to couple and yet avoid pregnancy.’

A pause followed. Then, her voice muffled by his coat, she said, ‘I knew that, but … what are they?’

He explained about withdrawal, sheaths and sponges. ‘Or there’s what we did last night, which brings pleasure without penetration.’

Henrietta nestled closer, snuggling deep into his embrace, and so they sat, their breath rising and falling in tandem.

Suddenly she stiffened, her body tense.

‘Perceval.’ Her chin tilted subtly towards Severn House. ‘With Jane Babcock but no servants. This is our chance.’

She sprang to her feet and strode purposefully towards her quarry while Percy and Miss Babcock strolled through the gate, both clad in black, their arms intertwined.

They gazed intensely into each other’s eyes. Like two people who shared a deep love.

Or possibly a dark secret.

Theo rose to follow Henrietta, his senses on alert. He’d do anything to protect her.