Chapter Twenty-Two
D iana held her candle to the opening and peered within.
Behind the low bookcase door lay a small, dark room. She ducked beneath the jam and entered. The concealed chamber had a bare floor and unfinished walls. Its ceiling was high enough for her to stand upright. The air was almost unbearably stuffy. An ancient cot with a broken leg stood against one wall, its rope bed rotted and moldy. Nearby, several open crates held dusty bottles of wine and brandy.
This must be a priest hole , Diana thought.
She had read about priest holes, constructed during Elizabeth’s reign or shortly thereafter to conceal Catholics, often in attics and cellars or behind fireplaces and staircases. The dusty cases of wine and brandy suggested that this one had been used more recently to store smuggled goods. Is that , she wondered, what brought the intruder here—something to do with smuggling ? But no. The room was too closed off, the air too fetid. No one had entered this space in months.
A small trunk stood just inside the door. The hasp was old and rusty. It bore no lock. Diana lifted the trunk’s lid—and froze.
The trunk was full of books. Dozens of volumes of varying sizes, shapes, and colors, some of which looked decades old, others much newer. Diana dropped to her knees and opened one. It was not a book at all. It was filled with handwritten prose in a messy style she instantly recognized .
Sir Thomas’s handwriting. These were the baronet’s journals.
The diary pages featured occasional crossed out words and ink blots, similar to the drafts of Sir Thomas’s letters that she’d seen. Atop the pile lay a volume bound in burgundy leather. She snatched it up. The entry on the first page began:
4 January 1849
A cold wind has blown up from the east, but it did not prevent me from taking my walk this morning. For breakfast, I had…
Diana’s stomach seized with excitement. It was Sir Thomas’s diary from the current year.
Bringing the journal and her candle back into the study, Diana sat down beside the cold hearth and began to read.
*
The first months of Sir Thomas’s journal were mainly a recap of weather conditions, the food he had consumed that day, the state of the crops, and his irritation with the news he had read in the paper that day.
These entries were interspersed with an occasional rant about an expense he was obliged to incur for a tenant, or his dissatisfaction with his daughter’s governess, whom he called “an idiot with no more sense than the pupil she fails to teach.”
This jab at Miss Fallbrook’s mental prowess was painful for Diana to read, but also telling. How sad that father and daughter had been at such odds over an issue that had never been the young woman’s fault.
More interested in Sir Thomas’s state of mind in his final weeks, Diana flipped to a later entry. Apparently, he had taken the journal with him when he’d traveled abroad. Diana’s breath caught in her throat as she read what he had recorded there.
Sir Thomas had indeed attempted, while in Germany, to meet the officers of Franke and Dietrich—just as she had suspected. But the company had moved and left no forwarding address. He further wrote:
I hired a carriage to convey me to the location where the railway line was supposed to originate. Latimer had assured me time and again that the project was under construction and great progress had been made.
Upon arrival, I was met with a sight that made my heart sink. The land had been cleared for about a mile, and perhaps two hundred feet of track had been laid, but no more. Not a soul was to be seen, nor was there any construction equipment on hand. The site was abandoned.
The entire investment seems to have been a deception. I fear the worst—that Franke and Dietrich have absconded with the cash. Did Latimer know of this?? Was he paid off for procuring trusting and foolish investors, like myself? I have never been so angry in my life.
So, the railway investment had been fraudulent.
Diana read through the next few entries in the journal, after Sir Thomas had returned to Pendowar Hall. He matter-of-factly recorded his nephew’s coming home from the Royal Navy and the severity of his leg wound but gave away nothing of his feelings for the captain or for his deceased wife and son. His thoughts were focused almost entirely on the financial matter that had distressed him.
Diana’s candle sputtered. It was spent and about to go out. Quickly, she grabbed another candle from the desk, thinking to light it from her own—but moved too hastily. The candlestick slipped from her grasp and fell with a clatter. Her heart pounded. Had someone heard? But silence reigned. Retrieving the fallen candlestick, she lit it seconds before her own wick disappeared into the molten wax.
Sir Thomas’s final journal entry, the night before his death, concluded with :
I have written to Latimer. We are to meet tomorrow. I shall tell him what I discovered in Germany and inform all the men I know who invested in this swindle. If Latimer is indeed guilty—and something tells me that he is—I will prosecute him to the full extent of the law. I’ll see to it that his license is revoked and send him and all the men behind this to prison. I would send them to hell if I could.
“I thought I heard something.”
Captain Fallbrook’s deep voice so startled Diana that she nearly dropped the journal. He stood in the open doorway, half-dressed and his hair disheveled, as he had been that night many weeks ago when he had found her in the north tower room.
Diana leapt to her feet. Her heart thundered at the sight of him. Despite herself, she felt again the memory of his kiss. She banished it. “Captain.”
“What are you doing?” he demanded, raising his candle. Before she could reply, he caught sight of the open bookcase door that revealed the cavity beyond. “And what on Earth is that ?”
“A bookcase door, like the one that leads to the tunnel to Smuggler’s Cave. There is a secret room behind the fireplace.”
“A secret room?” He crossed to it.
“I think it was a priest’s hole that may have been used later to hide smuggled goods. And more recently: your uncle’s journals.”
“His journals ?” He stared at her.
“I found them, Captain.” Diana couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “There’s a chest in there full of them.”
“Is there, indeed.” His expression changed. He looked uncomfortable now, as if he were about to come face to face with something unpleasant.
What, Diana wondered, was worrying him? And then she remembered: he believed his uncle had hated him. Did he fear that proof of that rancor would be found within those pages? Frowning, he ducked through the doorway into the hidden room. She followed.
“Well, I’ll be blowed.” He shook his head in wonderment. “My uncle was a crafty devil. He never said a word about this to me.” His gaze fell on the trunk. “You’re certain these are his journals?”
“I am.”
“How did you know to look here?”
“I didn’t. It was just a wild guess.” Diana held up the volume she carried. “This is the journal he kept before he died. I’ve read some of it.”
“Have you?” His matter-of-fact tone did not disguise the anxiety and censure in his eyes. “My uncle’s private journal—which he went to great effort to keep hidden. Yet you felt you had the right to read it?”
Diana’s cheeks flamed. “Forgive me, Captain. I should have come to you first. But…” Wanting to appease him, she thought fast. “Do you remember yesterday in the daffodil field… when you kissed me?”
His voice went quiet. “It is a moment I am not likely to forget. But what has that to do with this?”
“You said, ‘I could not help myself.’ Well. I felt a similar compulsion. My curiosity overcame me.”
He let out a sudden laugh, a sound that instantly eased the tension in the tiny room. “An excellent argument, Miss Taylor. You would have made a fine barrister.”
“If women were allowed to enter that profession, I should be the first to sign up.”
“Good for you.” He laughed again. “And now my curiosity overcomes me.” He nodded towards the book in her hands. “Did you find anything of note in that journal?”
“I did.”
“I suppose… there are pages full of regrets for having ever laid eyes on me, and diatribes about my failure to save his wife and son?”
“No. Sir Thomas’s thoughts at the end of his life were taken up by something else entirely: his worry over the railway scheme in Germany. ”
“The investment Latimer arranged?”
“Yes. As I feared, it was a hoax.”
Captain Fallbrook brought the trunk of journals into the study, lit several more candles, and asked Diana to tell him everything.
After sharing what she had learned and reading out relevant passages, she said, “I believe your uncle was about to reveal his findings about the railway investment but never got the chance—because he died the next morning before his scheduled meeting with Mr. Latimer.”
“Hmm.” The captain drummed his fingertips on the desktop. “So, what are you thinking? That Latimer may have silenced my uncle before he could spread the word?”
“It’s possible.”
“A serious accusation.”
“Fraud is a serious crime. If Sir Thomas had gone to the authorities, and Mr. Latimer was found guilty, he might have lost his ability to practice law—or worse yet, gone to prison. I think Mr. Latimer knew Sir Thomas kept a journal and worried that it might incriminate him. I suspect he’s been sneaking into the house late at night and searching the study, hoping to find and destroy Sir Thomas’s journal, as well as any paperwork related to the investment.”
“Again, an interesting theory. But what proof do we have?”
“None, I suppose… except for the cologne.”
“What cologne?”
“The scent of a man’s cologne lingered in this room when I arrived. I recognized it. Mr. Latimer wears that scent.”
“Does he?” The captain sat back in his chair. “You never cease to surprise me, Miss Taylor. I will get to the bottom of this.”
*
The following afternoon, Mr. Emity brought a summons from Captain Fallbrook. He wished to see Diana in his study without delay. Miss Fallbrook giggled and teased Diana from behind her geography book. As Diana left the school room, she assured her pupil that this ‘summons’ was purely of a business nature. To her frustration, her student remained unconvinced.
Diana arrived to find Mr. Latimer seated across the desk from the captain, his face scarlet, his eyes downcast.
“Miss Taylor, I apologize for interrupting your school day, but I felt this could not wait.” The captain gestured to a chair. When she was seated, he resumed. “Since the discovery and idea originated with you, rather than give you the information secondhand, I should like you to hear Latimer’s confession from his own lips.”
His confession? Satisfaction shot through Diana like lightning. He was guilty. He would own it.
“Go on, Latimer.” Captain Fallbrook pulled the bell cord to summon a servant. “Tell Miss Taylor what you told me.”
Mr. Latimer ran an agitated hand through his hair. “When I proposed the railroad project to Sir Thomas and the other investors, it was with the best of intentions. Franke and Dietrich came highly recommended. My father believed that railways are the future of transportation for both goods and people, and I saw it as a means of getting in on the ground floor of a burgeoning industry. I did not get wind that anything was amiss until after Sir Thomas’s death.”
“ After his death?” Diana repeated.
Latimer nodded. “I received a letter from Sir Thomas asking me to call about an urgent matter. He was vague about the details. When I arrived that afternoon, I learned that he had died. About a month later, when I found out what was going on… that no railway line was being constructed and the firm had vanished along with the money…” Latimer heaved a sigh. “I worried that Sir Thomas had learned of this while in Germany—that that must have been what he had intended to tell me that day. I recalled him mentioning that he kept a journal. I co uld not take the chance of someone finding it in case…” Latimer’s cheeks flushed with shame.
“And so,” Captain Fallbrook continued for him, his eyes flashing with disgust, “this reprobate has been sneaking into the house, hoping to destroy any evidence that might incriminate him.” He quirked a brow at Diana that seemed to say, Precisely as you suspected.
“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Mr. Latimer said. “Ever since I learned the truth, I have been working to raise funds to pay back my clients. I intended to tell them everything. I just needed more time.”
Diana could not read the look in Mr. Latimer’s eyes. He appeared to be sincere. But was it all an act? This was the same man who had flirted so cavalierly at Christmas with Miss Fallbrook. In the library that day, when she had asked him if he’d known the baronet had kept a journal, he had lied to her face. If he could lie about that and sneak into this house repeatedly in the dead of night, what else might he be capable of?
“I am afraid you have run out of time, Latimer,” the captain said firmly. “You will, without delay, contact every man who invested in that fraudulent enterprise at your direction, and divulge the truth of the matter—or I shall tell them myself.”
“I shall, sir.”
“I won’t bring charges against you—but you may from this moment consider your services in all my affairs to be terminated.”
“Sir!” Mr. Latimer’s face fell. “If you will only reconsider. My family has served yours for more than three decades. Again, I offer my deepest apologies. I promise to be transparent about every matter going forward, be it legal or financial.”
“And so you should—with any clients you are fortunate enough to keep after this— if you manage to retain your license.”
Mr. Emity appeared in the doorway. “You rang, sir?”
The captain stood. “We are finished here. Emity, please escort Mr. Latimer out.”
As Mr. Latimer turned for the door, the beseeching look vanished from his face, replaced by a penetrating scowl. Diana stood and was about to follow when Captain Fallbrook spoke.
“Miss Taylor, stay a moment.”
She turned back. He picked up several letters from his desk. “I know you often take early morning walks. Please deliver these letters to the post office tomorrow morning. They must go out first thing. The hall boy usually takes them, but I heard he’s laid up with a cold. I would do it myself, but I promised to call on tenants in the opposite direction.”
“Of course.” Diana took the letters. They were alone in the room now.
“All this business with Mr. Latimer—I would appreciate it if you would keep it to yourself. I don’t want our affairs to become a source of gossip, or to disclose how easy it was for an intruder to gain access to Pendowar Hall.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will have a lock installed on the door to the smuggler’s tunnel at the earliest opportunity.”
“An excellent idea.”
The captain toyed with a pencil on his desk. “And… one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finding my uncle’s journals. I intend to read them.”
“I hope they provide you comfort, Captain. Or at the very least, useful insight.”
“We shall see. Meanwhile… I’m glad to know about that hidden room. I expect it has been here for centuries, a secret passed down from one baronet to the next.”
“I’m sure your uncle would have told you about it, had he lived. ”
“I expect so.”
“Captain,” Diana couldn’t help but add, “do you believe everything Mr. Latimer said?”
“I have no reason to disbelieve it.”
“What if he was not entirely candid? We don’t know what Sir Thomas wrote to Mr. Latimer that day. What if the baronet admitted that he knew the railway investment was a hoax? It might be just as we theorized: that Mr. Latimer came here that morning to silence him. Sir Thomas may have kept an early draft of that letter, as he did so many others. I could look if you like.”
Unexpectedly, the captain’s face clouded. His features became as hard as marble.
“Leave it be, Miss Taylor. You have done your duty in bringing this to me. Latimer is a coward and a charlatan, but I do not think him capable of murder. He will never darken my door again.”
*
Diana headed down the corridor, perplexed by Captain Fallbrook’s reaction at the end of their meeting. He’d become similarly angry some time ago, when she’d brought up the possibility of the scuttled sailboat. Why?
This worry was replaced by a new one when, upon arriving in the schoolroom where she had left her pupil, Diana found the chamber empty. Miss Fallbrook wasn’t in her bedroom, either.
An awful suspicion overcame her. Racing down the main staircase to the front hall, Diana glanced out a window and gasped in dismay. Outside on the gravel sweep stood Miss Fallbrook and Mr. Latimer. The girl was gazing up at him adoringly. The groom waited with Mr. Latimer’s horse nearby.
Diana bolted out the front door and down the steps. “Miss Fallbrook! Come inside at once.”
The young woman’s cheeks grew rosy, but she didn’t move.
Mr. Latimer smiled down at her. “I fear I must take my leave.”
“It was nice to see you again, sir,” Miss Fallbrook replied sweetly.
“And you, my dear.” He kissed her gloved hand. “I bid you adieu .”
Diana’s blood boiled. Mr. Latimer climbed upon his horse, tipped his hat to Miss Fallbrook, and trotted off down the drive.
“What were you thinking, little miss?” Diana scolded once she and her pupil were back inside the foyer.
“Do not call me little miss . I am a woman now.”
“You are not a woman. You are fifteen years old. And that man is more than twice your age.”
“I have heard of couples with a greater age disparity who are very happy.”
“You two are not a couple, Miss Fallbrook, and never can be.”
“Why not? He is the only man who has ever treated me like a grown-up.”
“That is only because you have not been around any other men.”
“I have!”
“Where?”
“At church.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Mr. Latimer says that on Christmas Day, he saw me differently.”
“I do not doubt it. He saw your fortune.” The words were out before Diana could stop them. Hurt bloomed in her pupil’s eyes and Diana added, “Forgive me. You are too young to understand this yet, but money is a great motivating factor.” Diana knew that better than anyone. “You have a substantial dowry and Mr. Latimer knows it.”
“He doesn’t care about my dowry. He is a respected solicitor with money of his own.”
“Not as much money as he would like, perhaps.” Diana thought of the man’s current financial woes. “He might be feeling rather desperate at the moment. ”
“Desperate?” Miss Fallbrook’s nostrils flared. “How cruel you are. Do you think no man could like me for my own sake?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Papa admired him. So does Cousin William.”
“Not any longer. The captain just severed their relationship.”
Miss Fallbrook stared at her. “What do you mean?”
If only Diana could tell her about Mr. Latimer’s newly discovered crimes. But Captain Fallbrook had asked her to keep mum on the subject. “Mr. Latimer betrayed your father’s trust on a business matter,” she replied vaguely.
“I don’t believe you,” countered Miss Fallbrook heatedly. “You are just saying that because you are jealous. You don’t want me to find love because you never did.”
The shocking words were like a slap to Diana’s face. “Miss Fallbrook. That’s not true.”
“I feel sorry for you, Miss Taylor. I see the way you look at William. But that can never lead anywhere, can it? Because of the Mermaid’s Curse. And because he’s a determined bachelor. You are a spinster whose failed love affairs have left you bitter and alone and afraid to trust a soul. I don’t want that to happen to me.” With that, Miss Fallbrook turned and fled up the stairs.
Diana stood frozen in place for some long minutes before she sank down on a nearby chair and began to weep.
*
As Diana crossed the grounds early the next morning, a swirling fog hugged the lawns and shrubbery, obscuring everything but the tops of the tallest trees. The cold, dank air made her shiver despite the protection of her woolen cloak.
Diana hadn’t wanted to venture out in this weather, but she had promised Captain Fallbrook to post his letters. She had breakfasted earlier than usual to complete her errand and slipped a note under her pupil’s door to say that lessons would begin at ten instead of nine. Although, after their fractious encounter, Diana could not be certain the girl would even show up today.
She was still shaken by the cruel things Miss Fallbrook had said. Diana thought they had grown close by now. But, she realized, she had provoked the young woman’s outburst by calling Mr. Latimer a fortune hunter. That had been a mistake. Miss Fallbrook was a young girl in the throes of her first romantic attachment—however inappropriate it was.
Diana cast her mind back to her own first experience of love. If her father, instead of supporting her and Mr. Graham’s courtship, had forbidden her from seeing him, would Diana have obeyed? She doubted it. After all, she didn’t heed her godmother’s advice.
Love could, at times, be a force too strong to be reckoned with. It could blot out common sense. Miss Fallbrook was not thinking straight. Given time, Diana hoped she could help her see reason. She just hoped she had time. If Mr. Latimer’s license was revoked, he would lose his means of earning income and might see Miss Fallbrook’s fortune as his only way to survive.
A familiar grove of palm trees loomed up out of the fog. Diana had reached the riverbank, although it was difficult to see much of the river itself. An eerie quiet surrounded her, the world hidden by heavy, low-lying mist. The path was familiar, however, and with practiced steps, Diana found access to the footbridge.
The planks made their usual creaking sound as Diana made her way across, holding tight to the railing. An unseen bird squawked. Diana heard the distant flap of wings. Halfway across the bridge, she became aware of the creaking of planks behind her.
Was someone following her? She stopped and glanced in that direction but couldn’t see more than a yard before her face.
“Who’s there?” she called out. The creaking ceased. Not a breath stirred the air.
Don’t be silly , Diana reprimanded herself. Old bridges sometimes creaked. She was alone. Who else would have been mad enough to go out in this fog?
Diana walked on. The creaking resumed, faster now. Diana’s stomach tensed.
Before she could turn to look again, she felt a jarring impact against her back, thrusting her forward against the wooden railing. With a splintering sound, the railing gave way.
Diana cried out in horror as she plummeted into misty whiteness. A second later, she hit the river and was engulfed by freezing waters.