Chapter 23
Emmeline paced back and forth in her mother’s drawing room, fury warring with worry. When she had awakened to find Michael returned to London without telling her of Colin’s missive, she had immediately summoned a carriage and returned to London with Louisa in tow.
With the rain interfering with their plans, they had not been able to dig up her father’s treasure. When Mr. Hardy returned home from his excursion to the Green Dragon Tavern, Emmeline cornered him.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“I was not in the room with the gentlemen in question, but I did see Mr. G after the earl and Mr. Barrington left the tavern. He looks strangely familiar to me, my lady. It is my belief that he is someone known to this family,” Mr. Hardy confessed.
“Known to us?” Emmeline murmured in confusion. “One of Father’s associates, perhaps?”
Mr. Hardy shook his head. “I do not know, my lady, but he has been here in this house for one of the family social gatherings. Of that, I am almost certain.”
Emmeline’s frown deepened. “That is most unsettling. Mother only ever invited members of the ton to her social gatherings. That means that he is one of us.”
The realization that another nobleman would have taken her sister caused Emmeline’s stomach to turn over. The betrayal was more than she could manage without feeling ill.
“A nobleman, to be certain, my lady. His beard may have hidden his face, but it did not hide his manner,” Mr. Hardy confirmed.
“We must inform Mother and have her make a list of every man that she has ever invited to one of her gatherings.”
Mr. Hardy nodded. “I have just such a list already for the servants that includes each guest’s address and preferences in food and the like.”
Emmeline smiled at the butler. “You are extraordinary, Mr. Hardy.”
Mr. Hardy took the compliment in good grace. “Simply doing my duty, my lady. I shall retrieve the list forthwith.”
Emmeline nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Hardy.”
The butler left the room and returned in short order.
The two of them pored over the list, saying each name aloud.
When they reached the part of the list that held her deceased husband’s name, Emmeline sighed, closing her eyes as she said the name.
It was as if his very name still held some power over her.
“Norman Livingston, Marquess of Worthington.”
“I am sorry, my lady. I will make up a new list without the marquess’s name upon it,” Mr. Hardy promised, his eyes filled with sympathy.
Emmeline shook her head. “There is no need to be sorry. Your list is quite complete, and there is nothing wrong with that. You do your job well. I am surprised to find his name here as he was only ever here once, when Father died to attend the funeral.”
A sudden spark of realization dawned on Mr. Hardy’s face.
“What is it?” Emmeline asked, seeing the butler’s hesitation to speak.
Mr. Hardy frowned in thought, his eyes meeting hers in concern. “My lady, I apologize for the request that I am about to make, but could you please describe for me the marquess’s visage?”
Emmeline’s brow wrinkled in confusion, but she chose to answer him without questioning his motives. “The marquess was not a man of any particular note when it came to appearance. He was of medium height, lean of body. His features were as sharp as an eagle’s with cold gray eyes, and dark hair.”
“Did he have a beard or was he clean-shaven, my lady?”
“He was clean-shaven the last that my eyes beheld him, but when he did grow a beard on some of his travels abroad, it was quite dark and robust.” Emmeline frowned. “Why do you ask?”
Mr. Hardy had gone a bit pale, and his eyes had taken on a ghostly expression. “I believe that Mr. G may very well be the Marquess of Worthington.”
Emmeline felt all of the blood leave her face, and her heartbeat stuttered, then sped up with fearful ferocity. “That is not possible,” she breathed. “Norman is dead.”
“Did you ever see the body, my lady?”
Emmeline shook her head. “No, I did not. I received a letter from the local authority where he had died. The body was burned beyond recognition. Norman’s brother went to retrieve his body and belongings.
He said that it would be too scarring for me to see the body.
He had the casket nailed shut and buried on the estate. ”
“Did the marquess have a scar here?” Mr. Hardy drew his finger over the corner of his brow above the left eye.
Emmeline’s blood ran cold. “Yes,” she whispered, her entire body beginning to tremble in fear and shock.
“My lady, it is my belief that the marquess not only is the notorious criminal Mr. G, but that he also is responsible for the abduction of your sister.”
Emmeline felt as if she might faint. The thought of him returning into her life after all of these months filled her with a paralyzing dread.
It was not just because of the criminal activities he might be involved in, although the possibility that he might have been responsible for Rebecca’s disappearance made her feel violent to her very core, but it was also because of what he was to her.
He was her husband, and if he was still alive, that legal connection remained. Their marriage had been arranged for financial security, and she had gone along with it for the sake of her familial duty, but she had still hoped for some form of happiness.
The cold and distant way that he had treated her from the start, only treating her as an unwanted duty, not a loved and cherished member of his family, had hurt her.
Emmeline had never been allowed the privilege to question him, to trust him, to know him.
His frequent absences and the guarded walls he kept around himself had made their home a place of emotional and physical isolation.
His secrets had been many. His unspoken anger and ruthless ambitions had eaten away at her confidence in any chance for a companionable marriage.
His death had simultaneously left her feeling relieved alongside an overwhelming sense of abandonment, as with his departure, she had inherited nothing but a crippling level of debt.
His sudden, mysterious death had released her from the suffocating cage that he had built around her in Scotland, and she had no desire to go back.
The thought of Norman being alive, lurking in the shadows, holding her sister captive, controlling their lives from behind a veil of lies, terrified her to the core.
“What does he want? Why would he take Rebecca?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Why would he perpetrate a lie about his own death? None of this makes any sense.”
“He would not be the first man to run from his debts and turn to criminal activity to pay for his lifestyle. He would most certainly not be the first man to abandon his wife either, my lady.”
Emmeline sighed, leaning back in her chair. “This is unimaginable.” She rubbed her brows to relieve the headache that she was swiftly falling prey to. “These are not the actions of a sane man.”
“No, they are not, my lady,” Mr. G agreed, “but they are the actions of a desperate man.”
Emmeline closed her eyes. She needed to think about what to do. In the end, there was only one way to know for certain whether her husband was still alive. I will have to face him myself.
“Speak of this to no one,” she commanded her faithful servant. “We cannot cause a scandal of this magnitude without evidence that your suspicions are correct.”
“I have already mentioned to the Earl of Ravenshollow and Mr. Barrington that the man looked familiar to me, but I did not at the time know why or how, so they do not have his name,” Mr. Hardy admitted.
Emmeline nodded in understanding. “Let us not elaborate on it further with them until we know for certain that it is indeed the marquess.”
“As you wish, my lady,” the butler acquiesced to her request. He opened his mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a knock at the exterior door. Bowing respectfully, he turned and left the room to do his duty by the household.
Emmeline sat in the drawing room, staring into the empty fireplace, her mind lost in another time and place. When Mr. Hardy returned, he had Michael and Colin in tow.
“The Earl of Ravenshollow and Mr. Colin Barrington to see you, my lady.”
Emmeline nodded absently. “Show them in, Mr. Hardy.”
The gentlemen entered the room and came immediately to stand before her.
“He has told you, I see,” Michael noted with a disapproving tone, as he took a seat across from her.
“Told me what?” Emmeline turned her attention to her guests, concerned that Mr. G’s identity had been revealed before she had had a chance to confirm it for herself.
“About Mr. G’s request to speak with you,” Colin answered, taking a seat next to his cousin.
Emmeline looked at Mr. Hardy for confirmation.
“I was just about to inform her ladyship before your arrival, my lord,” Mr. Hardy replied, not rising to Michael’s ire.
Michael’s brows rose in surprise, then he frowned once more, this time apparently in frustration with himself for saying anything. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There are times when practicing silence would serve me better.”
“Tell me,” Emmeline commanded. Michael shook his head, either unwilling or not ready to share the details of their visit to the tavern with her.
Colin, frustrated with his cousin’s delay, charged ahead, informing her of everything that had happened during their conversation with the criminal known as Mr. G.
“He has threatened Miss Rebecca’s life if he is not granted an audience with you,” he ended his explanation.
“He claims that you have something that he wants.”
Emmeline’s eyes darted back to Michael, anger and fear battling for dominance within her. “You would have kept this from me?”
“I would,” Michael replied, his eyes holding hers with steely determination. “Sacrificing yourself will not bring Rebecca back to you.”