Chapter 14
“D o give him a belly rub, dear. He will not leave you alone unless you do.”
Hannah glanced down at the furry belly that had been proffered to her the moment she sat down on the sofa. The pug snorted in contentment, his stubby tail slapping loudly against the damask cushion, eager for her affection. He let out a happy whine when she rubbed his soft belly, sneezing several times as he wiggled happily under Hannah’s ministrations.
Lady Mount grinned. “Homer is too much of a flirt for his own good.”
Hannah could not help but laugh at the ridiculous pup, and it did her good. For days now, a pervasive gloom hung over her, stifling her usual lightheartedness, until the urge to smile felt like a forgotten memory.
Although it was not as if she did not know why she was plagued by the blue devils.
She missed her husband.
Only five days without Simon and she was near bereft. Although the house was only down by one occupant, its emptiness resonated with a lingering echo in the air and made her sad.
Perhaps it was because it reminded her of those first weeks here in London when he had been angry with her. Since he had departed for Yorkshire, apprehension would creep over her and she would have to assure herself that Simon had not left angry with her.
He had business to attend to in the north, nothing more.
Yes, he had been a little aloof the evening after he told her he must journey to Yorkshire, but he had been preoccupied with making travel arrangements. That night he had come to her rooms the moment her maid left, carrying her to her bed where he had proceeded to fulfill his desire to take her every way possible. On her back, her straddling him, standing before her mirror, pressed up against the wall, even from behind as she was on all fours.
It was as if he had been attempting to make up for all the days they would be parted in one night. It had been a fulfilling and erotic experience, her muscles aching pleasantly when she rose the next day to bid him goodbye as he departed early in the morning.
She had seen him off on his journey, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before he climbed into the carriage, knowing the servants and likely Lady Mount were watching. She had expected him to assure her he would not be gone long or that he would return as quickly as possible, but he had only told her to take care of herself while he was gone.
Not the romantic bidding of adieu one fantasized about, but it was not as if she could demand a grand speech from Simon while the footmen and carriage driver were within earshot.
His behaviour was all perfectly understandable, and her worry was only a reaction to the past. Simon would be back soon enough. A month was not all that long. Many couples endured far longer separations.
A high-pitched sneeze from Homer pulled from her thoughts and the dog fought to roll to his feet and jumped down from the sofa.
“As I said, he will leave you be now that you’ve indulged him.” Lady Mount gave him a doting smile as he waddled off to join the other dogs playing on the rug. “I am happy you called on me today, dear, as I had intended to send you a note that you must visit posthaste. Tell me, do you possess the mystical talent of mind reading?”
“I—”
Lady Mount threw up a warding hand. “Do not answer, dear. If you can read minds, you must keep it a secret. It has been some time since they burned a witch, but you never know.” Lady Mount extracted a leather-bound book from the shawls draped around her. “Now, to the matter of our letter writer. Your discovery regarding the year the letters were written has proven the key to unlocking the mystery. I have discovered Miss P’s true identity. It is written only just here.”
Hannah impatiently watched Lady Mount slowly open the book, reminding herself that the woman was old and likely full of aching joints. Although Hannah suspected she was savouring the dramatics by taking an excruciatingly long time to flip to the appropriate page.
Hannah could not blame Lady Mount for indulging in some flourish. She would likely do much the same in her position.
“Yes, here we are. In 1807, the house was let to Mr. Mortimer. He hosted a dinner party to which I was invited. Among the guests was a Miss Penelope Layton, who I noted here was being courted by Mr. Mortimer’s son, Henry.”
Hannah let out a squeal that had Homer barking at her in annoyance, but Hannah could only bounce in excitement. “Penelope! Henry! They must be Miss P and H! It is too much of a coincidence otherwise. But what of the Officer? Did you meet Mr. Mortimer’s other son?”
“That is the oddest part,” Lady Mount said. “I made a note that Henry was Mr. Mortimer’s only son.”
The Officer had referred to H as his brother many times. Could it truly be a coincidence that the names matched the initials? If so, it would have to be the greatest coincidence in history.
What if the Officer had only considered H his brother? One did not need to share blood to consider a man one’s brother.
“Do you know who Miss Layton married, Lady Mount?”
The older woman frowned. “I am afraid my journals mention neither Miss Layton nor Mr. Mortimer again after the dinner party. It appears I considered them quite average at the time. I do not recall reading any announcement of Miss Layton marrying, but it may not have been important enough to warrant a proper place in my memory or a note in my journal.”
Hannah had expected relief upon hearing Miss P’s true name, but she only felt frustration. She might know Miss P’s name now, but she was no closer to discovering what had happened to her.
And this might very well be the end of the mystery. How else could she discover whatever happened to Miss Penelope Layton? How foolish to think that a name alone would reveal the full story.
“Oh, do not look so disappointed, my dear Mrs. L. We are fortunate that I made note of Mr. Mortimer being from Cornwall and that we had mutual acquaintances in the area,” Lady Mount grinned. “Even more fortunate, a few of those acquaintances are still alive and would likely know who Henry Mortimer married.”
“Oh, Lady Mount, would you be able to write to them to ask after Mr. Mortimer?” Hannah asked.
Lady Mount gave her a playful smirk. “The letters were dispatched with the morning post.”
“You are as eager as me to get to the centre of it,” Hannah said with a laugh, although as she considered the reality of waiting for correspondence from Cornwall, her happiness began to wane. It could be weeks before any replies came, with no guarantee they would contain any helpful information for solving the mystery.
“My dear, you are the very picture of taking the wind out of one’s sails. You were over the moon only a moment ago. What has upset you?”
“I suppose I am simply impatient to discover the whole truth.” She let out a sigh and then reached out to pet Homer, who sat at her feet, hoping he might make her smile again, although all he did was let out his own sigh. “If I am honest with you, Lady Mount, I have felt out of sorts since Mr. Langley departed for Yorkshire. If I am like this the whole time he is gone, I do not know what I will do with myself.”
Lady Mount gave her an indulgent smile. “It does my old heart good to see a wife missing her husband. Most wives are quite happy to be rid of them. It is rare in our circle to meet a husband and wife who are in love like you and Mr. Langley.”
If Hannah had found her mood swings surprising before, she was in no way prepared for the shockwave Lady Mount’s words sent through her, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.
In love with Simon?
It felt as if her heart stopped at the same time it began to gallop like a stallion in an all-out sprint.
A punch in the chest that stopped her firm in her tracks while also making her bolt away.
It was startling.
Unheard of.
Ridiculous.
Impossible.
After all, Lady Mount had never even seen her and Simon together, beyond a glimpse of them through her windows. She only knew their marriage from what Hannah had said of it on her visits here. The woman was mistaken or on a flight of fancy in assuming that Hannah and Simon were in love.
Simon certainly did not love her and as for her, well, she had only ever loved one man in her life. No matter what questions she had about who she was, she knew that her love for John had been real and true.
The pain of losing him had nearly broken her. It was a pain she would never wish on her worst enemies. One she would rather die than experience again. That kind of pain could only come from genuine love.
No, John would always be the only man she could love.
Yet she was not about to argue with Lady Mount about the matter. It would be embarrassing to insist to her neighbour that she was not in love with her husband. It was better to simply leave the comment unacknowledged.
“Let us hope that your acquaintances can report on Henry Mortimer’s fate. Otherwise, I may have to resort to searching through the parish records. While I enjoy reading, I find the older books are full of dust, which aggravates my nose.”
“Ah, I have a concoction for that. It eases the stuffiness, although I warn that it makes one’s eyes water.”
As Lady Mount extolled the virtues of her many medicines that she used for various ailments, Hannah could not stop the needling thought at the back of her mind that the discovery of what had happened to Miss Layton was an answer Hannah desperately needed to know.
***
Lockwood Priory was little changed since Simon’s last visit. The bay front building with its old stone tower stood on the hill overlooking the village of Rampton and the river that wound through it, its windows glimmering in the afternoon sunlight.
Although considering it had only been a few months since Simon had been here, it would be strange if it had changed all that much. Renovations to the manor home would be years off, as every coin generated by the estate needed to be poured back into it. The modest estate in Yorkshire had been poorly run when Camden had taken control of it, a part of his new wife’s dowry.
Intended as a punishment from his father, Camden had defied his father and thrived at Lockwood, finally finding the strength to banish his father from his life altogether. The only unfortunate part of the banishment was that it cut Camden off from the family funds.
Or perhaps it had been fortunate. It had been what compelled Camden to ensure the estate’s success, after all.
His first step had been the decision to build a textile mill on the estate to manufacture the wool produced by its many flocks of sheep. Simon and Rothsay had invested in the mill as well, putting their money to good use to benefit their friend.
It appeared that their faith in Camden’s plans was well-placed, as Simon was informed by the butler that Lord Camden was down at the construction site. As Lady Camden was out calling on neighbours, Simon was offered the opportunity to refresh himself while they sent a message to Camden about his arrival.
By the time Simon had washed and changed, Camden had returned and awaited him in the drawing room. His friend looked good, his hair a little longer, his face filled out, adding depth to his dimples as he grinned at Simon.
“It is good to see you, Langley.” They shook hands. “I must say, I was surprised to receive your letter declaring your intention to visit. It arrived only just this morning. I take it you sent it not long before you left yourself. We never expect anyone to visit us all the way up here. Particularly when the trip appears so…impromptu.”
“Ah, I would never pass up a chance to see the beautiful English countryside,” Simon replied, in an attempt to simply ignore all the implications dripping from Camden’s words.
“Countryside filled with potholes, you mean. I have traversed the roads myself, so I know the difficulty,” Camden replied skeptically. “Your letter did not say why you wanted to visit.”
“I needed fresh country air.”
“There is plenty of fresh country air to be found well south of Yorkshire,” Camden’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Tell me. Why come all the way to Lockwood?”
I am terrified my wife will never love me and so I ran away as I always do.
He was too ashamed to admit to such a cowardly act, particularly to Camden. Simon had lectured Camden more than once about running away from responsibility. He would not give him the chance to do the same to him. His friend would relish it too much.
“I had thought I could also check on the progress at the mill,” Simon said, the only other reason he could conjure up for a lengthy journey.
Camden’s face fell, but he was quick to school it back to an amiable smile. “Of course, I do not blame you or Rothsay for not trusting my reports.”
It was true that Camden had not always been reliable or responsible in the past. It was a reputation he was working hard to change, but he likely worried that no one would believe the change was permanent.
“We trust your reports,” Simon assured him. “I am not checking up on you. I am merely interested in seeing the progress for myself.”
Camden still eyed him suspiciously, but before he could say anything, the butler opened the drawing room door for the Countess of Camden.
“Lady Camden,” Simon greeted the dark-haired woman, who offered him a polite curtsy.
“I believe we know one another well enough now for Christian names. Although I do prefer Theo to Theodosia.”
“Theo, it is lovely to see you.”
“Welcome back to Lockwood, Simon,” she said, ever polite. “Why are you here?”
And ever blunt.
Leave it to Theo to bypass the preamble and get right to the heart of the matter.
“He says he came for fresh air, but it is to check up on me,” Camden told her.
“It is not,” Simon assured them both.
Theo narrowed her eyes at him. “You are newly married, yet you came all the way up here without your wife, who Ewan says you have been in love with since you were young.”
Simon glared at his friend, who simply shrugged. “I tell her everything. It is how our marriage works.”
“If you are here without your beloved wife, it must be because you and Rothsay believe Ewan is not to be trusted,” Theo said.
“Theo, I can assure you that we have no doubts about the mill.” She merely shook her head at him, and Simon knew he would have to reveal at least part of the truth if he wanted to continue to be welcomed at the house. “I needed to get away from London and so I came here.”
Camden turned to Theo. “It is too long a journey to make to simply ‘get away.’ Then there is the matter of the short notice he provided about his arrival.”
She nodded emphatically at her husband. “Something has made the two of them suspicious and he has been sent as a spy. It is the only answer.”
“I am not a spy,” Simon insisted. “Rothsay and I have complete faith in you, Camden. And even if we did not, we trust Theo will ensure you stay committed. It is exactly as I said. I came here for a change of scenery.”
Camden kept narrowed eyes on him. “Then where is your wife?”
“Maybe you should worry about your own wife instead of mine!” Simon snapped at him.
“I am quite fine,” Theo replied matter-of-factly, and Simon felt like a bloody fool.
Because, as everyone knew, defensive antagonism would cause no one to question what was wrong with him.
Theo offered him a sympathetic smile. “While I am fine, I do not think you are fine, Simon. Would you like to talk about it?”
Her thoughtful response in the face of his antagonism made him feel even more a simpleton. He was taking out his anger on his friends, which was wholly undeserved. Particularly as his friends were the only way he would likely have a roof over his head tonight.
However, he had come to Lockwood hoping to elude his problems, not discuss them. Out of sight, out of mind , as they say. So what he needed to do was to move away from the subject of himself.
“I can assure you both that I am quite fine. It is merely that I do not like to be accused of spying,” he explained away his anger. “I want to see the progress you’ve made because I am eager to see our success for myself, not because I doubt it is the truth.”
Camden considered him for a long moment, but then seemed to accept he was being sincere. He glanced in the direction of the clock. “We have time before we need to dress for dinner. Would you like to go to the site?”
“I would,” Simon replied with all sincerity.
Camden smiled. “Then let us go. If that is acceptable to you, love?”
Theo gave Simon a doubtful look, which told him she did not believe his claim to be fine, but then she smiled at her husband. “Of course. Go see the site and then we will meet again for dinner. I expect we will have an excellent conversation then.”
Theo then left the room with a swish of her skirts and another doubtful look in Simon’s direction.
“Your wife is quite changed from the last time I met her.”
Camden grinned. “She has come out of her shell. I would love to take the credit, but she has done it all herself. And all my improvements are because of her. She has transformed my entire world.”
The man was clearly as smitten with his wife as he had been the last time Simon was here. No, that was not true. He was even more smitten with her.
Camden and Theo were deeply and madly in love, a fact that sent a fresh wave of icy envy through Simon.
He had pictured Lockwood as a sanctuary, a place of refuge where he could escape the torment that haunted him, but the familiar tightness in his chest remained, each beat of his heart a painful echo of the misery that clung to him like a shadow.
No matter, he would survive.
For almost a decade, unrequited love had been his constant companion. He possessed the fortitude, borne from years of quiet endurance, to navigate the decades of a loveless marriage he had ahead of him.
He would simply enjoy the reprieve Lockwood offered him, fortifying himself for the return to London where he would pretend his heart did not ache with want for his wife.