Chapter Nineteen #2
The maid nodded. Bridget added the cream and sugar and placed the cup in front of Louisa.
Then she put a few biscuits onto a plate and set them down beside the cup.
After pouring tea for herself and Nate, she settled in the chair next to Louisa and waited for the woman to take a few sips of tea before she asked her first question.
“As I’m sure you understand, Louisa, it’s important that we inform Lady Matheson’s family about her death. What can you tell us about her?”
“I was only with her six months…I don’t know much.”
“Well, tell us what you do know,” Bridget said kindly.
“Her husband, Sir Roald”—Louisa looked from Nate to Bridget—“died these three months past. They had no children.”
“Three months?” Bridget said. “But she couldn’t have been in mourning. She wasn’t in mourning when she came to the villa. And…well…then, there’s George.”
Bridget’s words echoed Nate’s thoughts. A lady in deep mourning, who’d recently lost her husband, did not behave the way Lady Matheson had behaved—stepping out late with another man and commissioning a miniature portrait of him to keep in his memory.
She’d mourned Otis more than she’d mourned her husband, whom she’d barely mentioned.
“Do you know why your lady chose not to wear mourning clothing until a few days ago? Three months is still a deep mourning period for a wife,” he said.
Louisa shrugged helplessly, and Nate got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t being entirely forthcoming.
“Was Sir Roald a knight or a baronet?” he asked.
“A baronet,” Louisa said.
“And where was his estate?”
“Cornwall—St. Agnus.”
Nate frowned. “That’s a long way from Westmorland. I fail to see why Lady Matheson would leave her home to travel to the other end of the country directly after her husband’s death. Unless—” He paused. “Was the estate entailed?”
Louisa looked blankly at Nate. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Was Lady Matheson perhaps forced out of her home by her husband’s heir?” Bridget said kindly.
Louisa’s face cleared, and she nodded. “She said we were to leave directly or the new baronet would have her locked away—” Louisa bit her lip, and Nate knew she’d revealed something she ought not to have.
He glanced at Bridget, whose creased forehead told him she’d also found the remark strange.
“Why would the new baronet have her locked away?” Nate asked.
“No. I don’t mean ‘locked away’. I meant…‘turned away’.” Louisa’s brown eyes widened.
“Turned away?” Nate felt his irritation rising.
The maid was withholding information, and he intended to find out why.
“How is that different from leaving on her own accord? If anything, the new baronet would likely have given her more time to prepare—a few months, even. So, please tell us the truth. Why did she run? Is it because she did something to Sir Roald? Was she responsible for his death?”
“No!” Louisa squeaked. “I mean…I don’t know…oh, dear!” Her bottom lip trembled.
“How did Sir Roald die?” Nate demanded.
“He fell from his horse and was in a bad way. But the doctor said he would heal and be well again. Then the next day, his valet found him dead in his bed. That is all I know.” Louisa started to wheeze as her panic increased.
“Hush now,” Bridget said gently as the maid struggled to calm her breathing. “You are not in any trouble and may speak freely. We are here to help you.”
Louisa turned to Bridget and blinked back her emerging tears.
“You were following your lady’s orders, weren’t you?” Bridget continued in a soothing voice. “Whatever decisions she made, they were not yours. The blame will not rest on you. So, tell us. Why did Lady Matheson run away after her husband died?”
Louisa inhaled and let out a shaky breath before saying, “Her name weren’t Lady Matheson. It were Lady Patterson. She changed it when we left Cornwall.”
Louisa’s hand trembled, and Bridget covered it with her own to reassure the maid that she wasn’t in any trouble. “Why did she feel the need to change her name and run away from Cornwall?”
“When Sir Roald hired me, after his wife’s maid had passed on, my instructions were to care for the lady and also to watch over her.
She lived in the upper chambers of the estate—very comfortable chambers they were, but far away from Sir Roald’s chambers.
It was so they never saw each other, I think.
He said she weren’t well. She needed laudanum every day on account of her nervous disposition.
She suffered from bouts of hysteria, so the laudanum kept her calm.
She were only to leave the house once a day for a walk in the gated and high-walled gardens of the estate.
And I were always to be by her side. I were never to leave her alone.
When we walked into the garden, one of the footmen also followed us.
She were never to be alone. That were his instructions. ”
“So, Sir Roald kept his wife prisoner in her own home?” Bridget said, and Nate heard the anger in her voice. “How awful. No wonder she ran at the first opportunity and declined to mourn him.”
“He said it were for her protection, on account of her suffering from hysteria and a nervous disposition. But I came to find out later it was on account of her son.”
“I thought you said she had no children,” Nate said.
“She didn’t—not anymore. But she would have terrible nightmares and talk in her sleep of a child drowning. She’d scream for Sir Roald to save him and bring him home to her.”
“After George died, she told me that her babe had drowned in a pond on her estate,” Bridget said. “Perhaps that’s what the dreams were about.”
“Maybe,” Louisa said. “In her dreams, she’d cry out for her ‘babe’—‘don’t take him from me,’ she’d cry—‘he’s only an innocent child.’”
Nate frowned. He was at an utter loss. Then Bridget said, “How soon did you leave after Sir Roald died?”
“The very next day,” Louisa said. “Lady Matheson wanted to leave before the burial because she feared the new baronet. So we packed her traveling chests and fled at night.”
“How did you flee?”
“In one of Sir Roald’s carriages—he had so many, and Lady Matheson said the new baronet owed her a carriage at least. But she also took a few other items—jewelry, some candlesticks, and silver.
And all the banknotes and Sir Roald had stored away in his study.
Gerald told her about those.” Louisa clamped her hand over her mouth.
“Gerald? Her driver? He is here at Villa De Lacey, is he not?” Nate said.
Louisa nodded. “I didn’t mean to…he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are you afraid of Gerald?” Bridget asked and then glanced at Nate.
“No, of course not. He were a great help to my lady, and I don’t want him in trouble.”
“Where did you go after leaving Cornwall? Did you come directly to Westmorland?” Nate asked. He would deal with Gerald later.
“We stopped many places along the way,” Louisa said, “to change the horses and such. We stayed at many inns.”
“Of course you did, but was your final destination Westmorland?”
“Not at first. We only came here after leaving Knaresborough.”
“Knaresborough?” Nate straightened. “Why did she want to go there?”
“She never said—only that it were important. But in the end, we only stayed a few days. We visited a reverend and his wife. There was an awful row with the reverend. And then we left. But the next day, the reverend’s wife came to our inn.
She spoke with Lady Matheson again. And then we departed for Westmorland.
I must say, I were mighty pleased when we came here.
It’s so peaceful, but I suppose now I shall have to leave. ” She burst into tears.
Bridget put her arm around the maid. “Don’t worry about that now. We shall do all we can to help you stay if that’s what you wish.” She handed Louisa a handkerchief. “Now, dry your eyes and tell us—do you remember the name of the reverend’s wife in Knaresborough?”
“I do.” Louisa sniffled and nodded at the same time. “It were Mrs. Phillips.”
Well, well! Nate thought. And so the plot thickens.