Chapter 9
Emmeline sat in the blue damask drawing room, staring out of the window onto the street below. Sorrow and helplessness filled her being, threatening to drown her with their intensity.
In one hand, she held Rebecca’s locket and handkerchief, in the other, she absently played with the pendant of her own necklace that had been given to her by her father. She wished with all of her heart, mind, and soul that he was still alive and there with her.
He would know what to do about Rebecca’s disappearance. Their father had possessed the ability to find anything that he set his mind to. His skill in solving puzzles had been unmatched.
Theodocia entered the drawing room, her eyes falling on Emmeline’s pendant. “Thinking of your father?” she asked as she crossed the room and took the seat opposite Emmeline. Her red eyes against the pallor of her skin told Emmeline that she had been crying.
Emmeline nodded. “I wish that he were here,” she confessed.
Theodocia nodded in agreement. “As do I. I miss him every day, but especially now.”
“He would know what to do. He always knew what to do.”
Theodocia turned her face toward the window.
“I never thought that I would know such fear and pain as that which I know now. I remember when your father would leave for his business expeditions, and I would anxiously await his return, fearing that harm might befall him. Thankfully, he always returned, his face wreathed in smiles as he would share with us his latest finds. I hoped to never feel such fear again … alas, this is far worse.”
Emmeline was not accustomed to her mother expressing her feelings on any matter, and she had not spoken of her husband since his passing. “I never knew that you feared for his safety.”
Theodocia turned her eyes to Emmeline’s, her face set in weary lines of sorrow. “A lady does not share her feelings with others. It is most unbecoming. It is only through overwhelming fear and sorrow that I am weak enough to speak of it now.”
“Speaking of one’s thoughts and emotions is not weakness. Did you believe Father to be weak?” Emmeline attempted to keep the anger she was feeling from her voice.
Theodocia’s brows rose in surprise. “Of course not. Why ever would you suggest such a thing? Your father and I were very happy together, sharing mutual love and respect for one another.”
Emmeline’s anger threatened to boil over. “If you knew such happiness with Father, why did you deny me the opportunity? Why did you force me to abandon Michael and marry Norman?”
Theodocia sighed, the lines of her face deepening. “Money and prestige, what else?” Her mother shrugged as if any other reasons to wed would be unnatural.
“Your father was a brilliant antiquarian and a masterful businessman, but when the ship went down carrying his most valuable finds with it, there was no other recourse but to marry you to a husband of wealth and station. We nearly lost everything. The marquess’ title and reputation opened doors to our family that had been previously closed. ”
Emmeline nearly laughed out loud. “And yet for all of his supposed wealth, he left us with nothing but an empty title.”
“No title is ever empty,” Theodocia chastised. “We made you a marchioness, and when you wed again, you will have the cream of society to choose from.”
Just as Emmeline was about to burst with the myriad of emotions that tumbled around inside of her like a barrel of stones rolling down a hill, Louisa Beauchamp swept into the room.
“My darling, I came as soon as I heard.” She hurried across the room and took Emmeline’s hands into her own. Louisa’s eyes held hers, filled with sympathy and concern. Sensing the tension between mother and daughter, she took a seat between them. “Have I come at an inopportune moment?”
Emmeline shook her head. “Your timing is impeccable as always.”
Louisa nodded in understanding. “Has there been any word?”
Emmeline shook her head. “Mr. Barrington and the Earl of Ravenshollow are assisting the Bow Street Runners in their inquiries, but there has been no news yet. We were instructed to wait here in the event that Rebecca returns, or that a ransom is demanded.”
Theodocia clutched the arms of her chair with such ferocity that Emmeline could have sworn that she heard her mother’s bones popping. “Let us pray that it is the former, for we do not have the latter.”
Emmeline bit back a retort about her mother’s plan to marry her off for money had not worked in anyone’s favor. Louisa, sensing her anger, reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.
“It is good that I have arrived,” she announced in an attempt to break the tension. “Rebecca would not wish for you to be at odds with one another or overcome with exhaustion born of fear. Mrs. Frampton, I shall remain here with Emmeline and keep watch. Why do you not go and lie down for a time?”
Theodocia gave Louisa a surprised look. “Are you certain?”
“I am.” Louisa nodded firmly.
“I will retire to my room, but only if you promise to retrieve me should anything change,” Theodocia reluctantly agreed.
“You have our word,” Louisa reassured her.
Nodding, Theodocia arose from her chair, steadying herself on the arms as she faltered for a brief moment. “I thank you for your kindness, Lady Beauchamp. My daughter is blessed indeed to have such companionship.” Having delivered the rare compliment, she turned and left the room.
Once her mother was out of earshot, Emmeline sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.
“This may be our undoing.” She groaned in frustration.
“I do not know how to bring her comfort, and I am filled with my own anger and fears. Rebecca had such a way with her that I do not possess.”
“We will find her,” Louisa reassured her. “Tell me of the investigation. How can I be of help?”
Emmeline opened her eyes, leaning forward to hand Louisa the handkerchief and locket.
As she leaned back in her chair, her hand absently fell back to clutch the necklace her father had given her.
“These are all that were left behind. I cannot escape the feeling that they are a message. Of what, I do not know.”
Louisa studied the items, turning them over and over in her hands, searching for any clues. “I know that your sister enjoys riddles, but I cannot see one here. What am I missing?”
Emmeline shook her head. “I do not know, but I cannot rid myself of the feeling that it is a message.”
“What makes you so certain?” Louis asked, her forehead scrunched up in thoughtful examination of the handkerchief in her hand.
“Where Rebecca keeps that handkerchief, no one should be able to get to it,” Emmeline answered pointedly, her tone conveying more than her words.
Louisa looked into Emmeline’s eyes with compassion. “Emmeline…” she began, pausing, uncertain how to say what she felt compelled to say. “If Rebecca were…” She could not finish the sentence.
“I know.” Emmeline stopped her from saying anything else on the matter, her mouth going dry at the thought. “But I cannot think that way.”
Louisa nodded her head in understanding, returning to silent contemplation.
Emmeline, overcome with emotion, accidentally jerked too hard on her necklace, and felt it come apart in her hand. “Oh!” Emmeline exclaimed in dismay as she pulled her hand away to view the damage.
“What is it?” Louisa asked, concerned at hearing Emmeline’s distress. “What has happened?”
“My necklace, the one that my father gave me … It is broken!” She held out her hand to show Louisa the damage, only to notice as the light from the window fell upon it that it was not broken at all. “What is this?” she asked aloud, leaning forward to inspect the pendant more closely.
“It looks like a piece of paper,” Louisa noted, squinting as she leaned forward.
The two women hovered over the pendant, staring in surprised confusion.
Inside the pendant was a hidden opening with a tiny internal latch that Emmeline’s fidgeting had sprung open, causing the pendant to separate and reveal its hidden compartment.
Reaching out with her empty hand, Emmeline gently pulled the fragment of paper from the pendant.
She looked into the compartment to make certain that she had not missed anything, then set it aside. Unfolding the piece of paper, she immediately recognized the handwriting. She looked up at Louisa with wonder in her voice, “It is a coded message from my father.”
“Coded?” Louisa replied with consternation. “Why would he use a code to write you a letter, then place it in a pendant? One would think that he would have at least told you about it. Did he never speak of it?”
Emmeline shook her head. “Never.” She was just as bewildered as Louisa at this newest find. She studied the markings on the paper.
“What does it say?” Louisa asked, leaning forward to see the strange markings on the paper.
“I do not know,” Emmeline replied, turning the paper in various directions to see if a change in vantage point might reveal something.
“So, not only did your father not tell you about the letter when he gave it to you inside the pendant, but he wrote it in a code that you do not know how to decipher?” Louisa asked, the look on her face was one of disapproval and frustration.
“It would appear so,” Emmeline murmured, sighing as she closed her eyes and feeling overwhelmed. “This is too much,” she breathed, leaning back in her chair. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and forehead. “Rebecca is missing, possibly in great danger, and now this. It is all too much.”
“Is it possible that the two are related? Did your father have any enemies who might wish to take revenge upon him posthumously by taking his daughter? Or your mother? Would she know what the letter says?”
Emmeline shook her head. “Mother never participated in Father’s riddles.
She did not consider it to be proper for a lady of her years and standing.
As far as Father having enemies, I cannot imagine such a thing, but honestly, I do not know.
Father traveled often to procure rare antiquities.
I would have no way of knowing who he might have encountered that might mean him, or his family, harm. ”
Louisa leaned back in her seat, sighing. “I am sorry. I do not feel as though I am being of much help.”
Emmeline gave Louisa an appreciative look. “Having you here with me is help enough.” She reached out and took her friend’s hand. “Without your calming influence, I fear Mother and I might be bound for Bedlam.”
Louisa shivered at the reference to the insane asylum. “Perish the thought. I shall endeavor to do all that I can to keep you from the edge of such an abyss.”
“Father’s message is not helping,” Emmeline murmured, releasing Louisa’s hand with a squeeze. She inspected the mysterious code once more. “What was he trying to say, and why did he not simply say it to me when he was alive?” Tears slipped from her lashes to spill down her cheeks. “Why?”
“My lady,” Mr. Hardy’s voice drew her attention to the hall beyond. She raised her brows in question, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Mr. Colin Barrington has arrived to escort you to your meeting with the Earl of Ravenshollow.”
Emmeline nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Hardy. Please inform Mr. Barrington that I will be with him anon.”
“My lady.” Mr. Hardy bowed, then left the room.
“News?” Louisa asked, her voice lifting in hope.
Emmeline shook her head. “I do not know. Michael said that he would send Colin when he had finished with the Bow Street Runners.”
“Why does he not come to you here?” Louisa asked in disapproval.
“That is my doing. I did not wish for Mother to be given false hope if there was none to give. If something untoward or unimaginable has happened, I do not want her to be burdened with the details of the matter. If there is something that she needs to know, I will tell her. Otherwise, I see no reason to add to her pain.”
Louisa’s expression softened. “That is noble of you, my friend, but who is looking after your heart? Who is keeping you from unnecessary pain?”
“I fear that I do not have such luxuries.” Emmeline gave Louisa a sad smile of appreciation for her concern. She stood from her seat, squaring her shoulders to meet whatever might lie ahead of her.
She turned her gaze back to Louisa, who had come to stand beside her, concern wrinkling her friend’s brow. “I apologize for my departure. Would you be so kind as to remain here with Mother until either she awakens or I return, whichever comes first?”
“Of course. Fear not. I will send for you if any word should come of Rebecca,” Louisa replied, clearly glad to be of some use.
Emmeline breathed a sigh of relief, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you. I will return as soon as I am able.”
“I will be here,” Louisa promised.
The women embraced, then Emmeline left the drawing room to join Colin in the foyer beyond, bracing herself to face the unknown.