Chapter 34
WRAPPED IN A blanket, Ella sat next to Phoebe’s bed. Try as she might, she could not cease the trembling that seemed to come from her very soul.
The events following her discovery of Phoebe were a blur.
After Ella had left the basement chamber to fetch her father and Mrs. Chatterly, Gabriel had carried Phoebe up the stairs to Ella’s bedchamber, which was far enough away from the other guests to avoid suspicion.
Ella and Mrs. Chatterly began to dress the wounds immediately, and her father informed Mr. Hawthorne of the incident.
Gabriel and two footmen rode out, attempting to locate Mr. Bauer.
Another footman set out for the magistrate, and Mr. Parker, who’d been a physician in his younger days, was summoned to assess Phoebe’s condition.
For now, the frantic activity had subsided. The men had gathered below to discuss the course of action, and Mrs. Chatterly had dozed off in a chair in the corner.
Ella pushed a piece of Phoebe’s nutmeg hair away from the fresh bandage around her head, which had already soaked through with blood.
Her dear friend had been so blinded by Mr. Bauer—or whoever he really was.
Ella chided herself. She should have done more to convince Phoebe of Mr. Bauer’s danger. She should have told her exactly what she knew. If she had, perhaps her friend would be sleeping peacefully instead of lying in a state of unconsciousness.
After about half an hour, her father entered the chamber, pulled a chair next to Ella, and sat down.
How tired he looked. His disheveled, thinning hair hung in strands across his forehead.
Dark circles emphasized the light hue of his rheumy eyes.
He wore a waistcoat but no coat, and the stoop of his shoulders alarmed her.
He placed a hand on her arm but said nothing for several seconds. She could feel the concern, the worry, the heaviness he was carrying—all from that simple touch.
When he finally spoke, his voice was raspy. “I’m trying to understand how this came to pass, Eleanor. Why did you not come to me with any of this earlier?”
“I never trusted Mr. Bauer, Father,” she stated. “I did not keep that from you.”
“But you did keep certain discoveries from me, did you not?” He blew out his air and scratched his fingers over his head. “So is this the real reason for Mr. Rowe’s presence here?”
“I told you I saw him in London. Mr. Rowe was already watching Mr. Bauer on behalf of one of his clients, but he was also concerned that Mr. Bauer might try to take advantage of the Society. Over the course of the last few days, we uncovered more evidence against Mr. Bauer, and then today the most condemning evidence arrived.” She still had the obituary in her possession from when she and Gabriel had been talking in the conservatory.
She took it from her pocket and shared it with her father.
He accepted the slip of paper, retrieved his spectacles from the welt pocket of his loose waistcoat, and propped them on his nose.
“Our symposium speaker, whoever he is, is not Thomas Bauer. He tricked Mr. Hawthorne into believing he was a phrenologist. He tricked everyone.”
After reading the paper, her father removed his spectacles, pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled noisily.
She could sense what he was thinking. How could something like this happen? How would they be able to explain this to the Society members? In a few hours the members would wake and find that their guest of honor not only had played them all for fools but also had stolen money from them.
“What a predicament,” he said at last. The fire’s light cast shadows, emphasizing the deep lines of worry in his brow. “I fear what will happen when this news spreads. This could very well spell the end of, well, everything.”
Without warning, the door flung open on it hinges, nearly slamming the wall behind it. Ella jerked and whirled around in her chair.
Mr. Hawthorne stood in the doorway, appearing every bit as disheveled as her father.
Instead of sad contemplation, anger darkened his round face.
His heavy jowls shook with each word, and outrage narrowed his eyes.
“She’s gone, do you know that? And that Gutt fellow too. Their things are gone. Completely!”
Confused at the onslaught of information, Ella asked, “Who’s gone?”
“Miss Sutton!” he cried, incredulous. “Her chamber’s empty. Everything’s gone.”
Stunned, Ella looked at her father. Suddenly even more of the pieces lined up.
Miss Sutton had always been supportive and enthusiastic about Mr. Bauer, but Ella had thought she was simply in awe of the man’s talent.
Never did she suspect that the woman might be involved somehow.
It almost made sense. According to Phoebe, Miss Sutton had been instrumental in facilitating and encouraging the friendship between Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Bauer.
She had likely been manipulating Mr. Hawthorne’s affections this entire time.
She even encouraged Phoebe’s infatuation with Mr. Bauer.
“Someone needs to answer for this.” Mr. Hawthorne’s indignant words pulled Ella back to the present.
Pointing out that this entire situation was his decision wouldn’t be easy, but truthfully, Mr. Hawthorne had been swindled. And in that regard, she felt sorry for him.
What her father said was true—when word of this got out, it spelled the end of everything they all had worked so hard for.
Ella covered her father’s withered hand with her own.
She had no idea what the next several hours would bring, but the sense that their entire world was about to shift settled heavily on her shoulders.