Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“ W here is Hall? My butler?” Horatio asked.
He was taking luncheon in one of Ravenscourt's drawing rooms. Lady Margaret and Frances Godwin were dining with him. Frances was helping him by filling his plate from the buffet arranged on a sideboard across the room. Horatio found that the energy expended in walking from his rooms to the drawing room was sufficient to exhaust him. The medicine from Doctor Jackton was overdue and he felt shaky in body and mind.
When was the last time he had seen Hall? He could not recall clearly if it was the previous day or the previous week. He had been attended by other servants and by the Godwins. The Reverend Matthew Ainsworth was also present. But there had been no sign of Hall. Had there?
“I believe he is unwell,” Lady Margaret chimed, “and has taken to his bed. Do not concern yourself much, Your Grace. There is nothing that I and Reverend Ainsworth cannot manage in his stead.”
Horatio frowned. He had dressed himself, refusing Frances' help, the offer of which had led to her being given a dressing down by her mother. Now she held a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon for him as though she intended to feed him.
“Hall is never unwell. He has the constitution of an ox,” Horatio muttered, “I should see him.”
He made to rise but Frances kept him seated with a hand to his shoulder. Horatio closed his eyes against the wave of weakness that swept over him.
“ Madam ,” he sighed to Lady Margaret, “Hall is not just in charge of my household staff, but he is an invaluable aid in managing my business affairs. I simply cannot be without him.”
“Fear not, Your Grace,” said Matthew Ainsworth cheerily, as he breezed into the room bearing a sheaf of papers.
“Mr. Hall has briefed me on the particular issues of concern at the moment, and I am more than capable of addressing them. Remember that, as aide to His Grace the Bishop of London, I am required to undertake many administrative tasks relating to properties and estates, small and large.”
“And why would you wish to help me?” Horatio asked suspiciously, “After you told me that you despised me for my father's sins.”
“A sin of my own that I must now atone for. Wrath is a mortal sin after all. As is envy,” Ainsworth replied.
He cleared a table and brought it to the chaise on which Horatio sat. Then he spread out a number of documents containing small, densely packed writing.
“Envy?” Horatio said, putting a hand to his head and wishing that Doctor Jackton would appear soon with his medicine. He did not want to be muddled or confused when dealing with the Godwins or Matthew Ainsworth.
As they so often did, his thoughts returned to Juliet. She appeared in his mind more than once every day. Always now with regret and immense sadness. Once, he had believed that he loved her, though he had never said as much to her. The planned marriage of convenience would have been a marriage in truth.
But she was gone. And his ancestors demanded that he do the right thing, repair the damage that had been done to their name.
There was now only one way to do that. Except... hadn't his woes truly begun when he had found himself unable to refuse the challenge of a duel? When he had put the honor of his family before his own good judgment. Before his own sense of right and wrong. A sudden anger ignited in Horatio, a resentment of all of those Templetons that had gone before him. Those Templetons who expected him to sacrifice himself at the altar of their memory. And not just himself, but Juliet as well.
He embraced the anger, a tight smile breaking across his face. Frances shrank back from him as he turned to her.
“Are you… quite well... Your Grace?” she stammered.
“Is it a sin to love?” Horatio asked of the room in general.
Frances appeared confused. Lady Margaret looked to Matthew Ainsworth. He seated himself, seeming unperturbed.
“It is no sin to love, according to the rules of the church. A love within the bounds of holy matrimony. Or the love of a child for his parent. Or parent for child,” Ainsworth said, beatifically.
“And if a man is forced into matrimony, simply to escape scandal and not for love?”
“Matrimony is sacred. It is a virtue, no matter the motivation,” Ainsworth replied.
Horatio glanced at Frances who smiled tentatively. Lady Margaret nodded encouragingly, as if predicting where Horatio's thoughts were leading him and approving their direction.
“I love a woman who I wish to marry…” Horatio began. “I have lain with her. More than once. That is a sin and a potential scandal, is it not?”
“It is!” Ainsworth said emphatically, “and the woman concerned is equally culpable.”
“And so, to avoid scandal and to assuage my guilt and restore my name, I should marry not the woman I wish to, but another that I do not care for and who does not care for me beyond my title and wealth? I am caught in a trap made by my own guilt,” Horatio said thoughtfully, as though feeling his way through this argument.
“Yes!” Ainsworth responded. “You are guilty and you must atone. If you seek forgiveness, it may be granted and your honor restored. But you must...”
“ Grovel ,” Horatio finished.
“Yes!” Ainsworth cried triumphantly.
But Frances was casting worried glances at her mother, who was shaking her head as she frantically tried to catch Ainsworth's eye. They could sense that something was wrong. Something was not going according to plan.
“I choose not to be guilty. I choose to live according to my morality. Not yours. And not the morality of my ancestors. I have committed no sin according to my morality. I have no guilt. I will not grovel for the sake of my name. I will marry Juliet if she will have me.”
Horatio rose, leaning heavily on the walking cane. Frances and Lady Margaret looked stunned but Ainsworth stood with mouth opening and closing. No words came out and his eyes bulged. As though only now did he realize where Horatio's reasoning was taking him.
“No, no, no,” Ainsworth finally choked in a strangled voice, “that is not... you cannot...”
“I can and I will ,” Horatio said, his voice firmer than his knees.
“It will destroy you!” Lady Margaret cried out in a voice fraught with panic.
“So be it,” Horatio muttered, “I care not.”
“But you must!” Frances almost screamed, “The ton will talk of nothing else. The Templeton name will be in disgrace for years. Marry me and all will be well!”
“No,” Horatio said, calmly. “I will marry your cousin and all will be well or not. I do not care. Now, all of you. Get out!”
This last was shouted and Frances jumped, whimpering with fright. Lady Margaret dropped her tea cup. Ainsworth stood frozen to the spot.
“I am the master of this house. And I want you all to leave!” Horatio bellowed.
He strode across the room, praying that his strength would not choose that moment to leave him, and then tugged on the nearest bellpull.
“Where is Jackton!” Lady Margaret shrieked at Ainsworth.
“He is acquiring more of the drug...” Ainsworth barked back, or at least began to. Then he looked at Horatio who was watching the exchange with interest. Drug, not medicine.
“Don't stop, dear Matthew. What drug does the good doctor need to acquire more of?”
“I meant your medicine ,” Ainsworth said hurriedly, “he has gone into town to visit an apothecary and acquire more of the medicine on which you rely.”
“Don't listen to him, Horatio. Or to my mother!” Frances cried, leaping to her feet, and grabbing Horatio's hand. Or trying to. He pulled his hand from her grasp and she fell to her knees before him.
“They are drugging you. Doctor Jackton was paid by Reverend Ainsworth to do so! They plan to keep you weak so that they can force you to do as they wish. I was their pawn. They have used me too.”
“Be silent!” Ainsworth roared and strode forward, then slapped Frances across the face.
Horatio reacted instinctively. He lashed out with his cane, catching Ainsworth across the temple. The reverend fell back, one hand going to his mouth. Lady Margaret screamed. Ainsworth was quick to get back to his feet and he advanced on Horatio with fists clenched. Horatio stood his ground, casting the cane aside.
“Showing your true colors now, aren’t you, Reverend Ainsworth ,” Horatio smirked triumphantly.
“He wanted to gain control of your business interests. Those papers would give him that control had you signed them,” Frances mumbled, eyes spitting venom toward Ainsworth.
Horatio could not puzzle out why Frances was suddenly turning against those she had conspired with. What did she stand to gain from it? Could it be that she had decided to do what was right, regardless of the consequences to herself? Was Frances a better person than Horatio had supposed?
He glanced at the papers, then at Ainsworth, whose face had darkened to puce. A door flew open and two footmen burst in, clearly hearing the scream and sounds of a struggle.
“These people are no longer welcome in my house,” Horatio snarled. “See that they leave and that any belongings they leave behind are sent on after them. But they are to leave now!”
Ainsworth gave a distinctly un-clerical growl and lunged for Horatio. But a footman was quicker. Looking scandalized at the need to do it, he seized Ainsworth from behind and began to bodily drag him from the room. The other calmly stood before Lady Margaret and politely gestured towards the door. Frances crawled to Horatio, tears running down her cheeks.
“Your Grace! I am loyal to you! Please do not send me away!”
Horatio looked at her with compassion. At first . As he looked at Lady Margaret, he caught a glance that passed between mother and daughter. Frances had looked from beneath lowered lids, turning her face away from Horatio to conceal it. Her hair had fallen forward, providing a further screen. But Lady Margaret’s glance was one of approval. There was the ghost of a smile, quickly morphing into tight-lipped anger when she realized that Horatio was observing her. The slightest hint of a nod. Telling Frances that her strategy was the correct one. Horatio seethed and stepped away from Frances.
“Where is Mr. Hall?” he asked the footman who was watching Lady Margaret try to make a dignified exit.
“In his room, Your Grace. Under the weather, I'm afraid. Glad to see Your Grace is feeling better though.”
Horatio nodded sharply and strode from the room as quickly as he could.
“We will bury you and your rotten, stinking family name! The scandal will be spoken of for generations!” Frances cried with sudden savagery, “You will regret rejecting me. And so will Juliet!”
There was another slap.
This time, it was Lady Margaret, standing over her daughter with a face pale with anger. Horatio glanced back from one to the other. He experienced two emotions, the satisfaction of victory and the fear of what might be awaiting Juliet.
Frances had pretended to switch her loyalties, but it had clearly been a strategy hatched with her mother. A last resort. When it had failed, her natural arrogance had meant it was impossible for her to contain herself. The venom had poured from Frances until her mother ended it with a slap.
The question was, what did they have planned for Juliet?
He left the room, trusting the servants to carry out his orders. Within moments, he was knocking on the door of Mr. Hall's rooms in the servant's quarters.
Entering, he saw Hall lying on a bed against the far wall. His face was pale and drawn. He was raising a brown vial of liquid to his lips.
“Hold fast!” Horatio shouted, rushing forward.
He snatched the vial from Hall’s hands and hurled it to the floor.
“Your Grace. I am happy to see you are well again,” Hall breathed, drily. “I, however, am not. May I ask why you have destroyed the only remedy that seemed to work?”
“Because Doctor Jackton was in the pay of the Godwins to weaken me. This so-called medicine is a drug to achieve that end. They gave you the same thing to keep you from protecting me!”
“But it was doing me good. I felt strong and...” Hall trailed off, eyes going wide, “the blackguards!” he whispered.
“I would wager it is something akin to poppy juice. Promoting a sense of well-being until it has left the body, leaving weakness and devastation in its wake,” Horatio confirmed, “I am still weak as a kitten myself.”
Hall struggled into a sitting position, shaking himself as though to throw off sleep.
“Well then. The Godwins and Doctor Jackton must be removed from the house forthwith.”
“Already done, old friend. Reverend Ainsworth too. It seems he is still jealous and angry from our school days together. He is part of the plot,” Horatio said, grimly.
“What are our next steps, Your Grace?” Hall began, attempting to stand.
Horatio went to him and put a hand to his shoulder, pushing him back to the bed.
“ Your next step is to sweat out Jackton's vile drug, recover your strength, and then take charge of Ravenscourt in my absence.”
“But where are you going, Your Grace?” Hall asked.
“To find Juliet,” Horatio replied. “Frances Godwin hinted that Juliet is vulnerable to their vengeance. I must reach her quickly and protect her from that.”
“Then I will come too...” Hall insisted.
“Your duty is here, old friend. Looking after Ravenscourt. I need a man I can trust here. Get some rest and then resume your duties when you are able.”
“At least take a carriage and a driver,” Hall pressed.
Horatio could not deny the fatigue he was feeling. A brisk walk, one hundred yards long across the castle had drained him. How would a distance of twenty miles affect him? He nodded soberly.
“I will take a driver and one of the coaches. But I will leave now. Do not try to change my mind.”
Hall nodded too, closing his eyes as though fighting his own fatigue.