Chapter Twenty
“So, Lady Matheson likely knew George Otis before they ‘met’ here in Westmorland,” Bridget said in wonder, her brain still digesting the information after they’d dismissed Louisa and sent for Gerald.
“Yes, it seems that way.” Nate ran a hand through his wavy black hair and went to pour himself a brandy.
“I am forced to question myself at every turn now.” He sat beside Bridget with his drink in hand.
“I was utterly convinced that Collins had killed Otis. It made complete sense—what with their contentious history and the symbolism of leaving his desecrated body in the daffodils. And now it appears a jealous footman, turned driver, may have done it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when Sir Roald died, his entire estate went to his heir, and Gerald helped Lady Matheson steal valuables from the house and then aided in her escape. So, he was likely in love with her. In which case, he’d have been jealous of her relationship with Otis.
And if Lady Matheson rejected him after Otis’s death—well, a spurned lover is a powerful motive. ”
“True, but let’s not jump to conclusions again….” Seeing the sharp look on Nate’s face, Bridget stopped her words. “I didn’t mean to say that you were—”
“No, you’re right. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” Nate drained his glass and set it on the desk. “First Collins, then Angert, now Gerald. We have no proof whatsoever.”
“We are theorizing. It’s a process of elimination. That’s all. It’s necessary.”
“Except we have eliminated no one,” Nate said dryly.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door, and Gerald entered. He was a strikingly tall and well-built young man, with a head of short dark curls, hazel eyes, and a sharp face.
Nate started with the questions the moment the young man sat down. “Can you tell us what position you held in Sir Roald’s home?”
The young man’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “I were a footman, sir.”
“For how long?”
“Just over three years, sir.”
“And after Sir Roald died, you decided to leave with Lady Matheson. Why?”
“There were to be a new baronet coming, and none of us knew if we were to keep our positions. I thought it were best to go with the lady. She promised me permanent employment.”
“So you left to secure your future?” Nate scoffed.
“I think not. You would have been better off staying and getting a reference to find a new position had the new baronet decided not to keep you on. After all, you knew that Lady Matheson didn’t have a lot of money—didn’t you?
She was reduced to stealing jewelry, candlesticks, and banknotes from her husband’s estate before she left.
So your reasons for giving up your position in the house don’t make sense. It seems like you took a great risk.”
Gerald shifted in his seat.
“I think your motives were somewhat different,” Nate said. “By leaving with Lady Matheson, you were helping her escape, rather than helping yourself. The question is, why?”
“Louisa said the new baronet would have Lady Matheson locked away in one of those asylums. They are horrible places. She didn’t deserve that. She always treated me well.”
“But she was kept upstairs, away from the rest of the household. When did you have contact with Lady Matheson?”
“During her walks, mostly. I would follow behind Lady Matheson and Louisa to make sure everyone was safe.”
“Hmm. So, I expect you got to know Lady Matheson well during those times.”
Gerald shrugged.
“She was a very handsome woman,” Nate said. Bridget watched for Gerald’s reaction, but he appeared unmoved and simply shrugged again.
“Were you in love with her?” Nate said abruptly. Bridget held her breath. She could not help but feel sympathy for the driver.
“In love with her?” Gerald frowned. “She were the age of my mama, sir. How should I have been in love with a woman of those…years?”
“That is of no matter. She was beautiful and richer than you were. Why else would you risk helping her escape—with stolen goods, I might add?”
“I told you why,” Gerald said, shifting in his seat again.
“Do you know what I think?” Nate crossed his arms. “I think you were infatuated with her, and you saw yourself as her ‘white knight.’ If you came to her rescue, perhaps she’d be so grateful that she would fall in love with you.
You would be her savior, and she would owe you her life.
But that’s not what happened, is it? Instead, she fell in love with George Otis—a man even younger than you—and you couldn’t stand it, could you? So you killed Otis and took his heart.”
“What?” Gerald half rose out of his seat.
“But that didn’t change anything, did it?” Nate raised his voice, and Gerald backed down into his chair again. “Lady Matheson didn’t turn to you for comfort. She’d all but forgotten about you. After everything you did for her. That must have enraged you—perhaps enough to kill her?”
“You…you’ve got it all wrong,” the driver said, and Bridget could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“How so?” Nate leaned forward on his desk. “Tell me what I’ve got wrong.”
Gerald inhaled and then closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and looking directly at Nate. “I did indeed fall in love,” he said, “but it wasn’t with Lady Matheson. It was with Louisa.”
Bridget covered her mouth to stifle her gasp.
Nate looked momentarily taken aback. “Louisa?” he said.
“Yes. We were…are in love. And with Sir Roald dead, Louisa was certain to lose her job when Lady Matheson was sent away by the new baronet. We didn’t know what to do…
and when Lady Matheson asked Louisa to come with her, well, I weren’t going to let her go without me.
So we helped her escape. But I didn’t kill anyone.
Why should I want my lady to die? She were good to us.
Now, we are both without positions once again. ”
“Oh, you mustn’t worry about that now,” Bridget said, her heart going out to the young man.
“I am certain we can find a…” she started, but stopped when she caught sight of Nate’s frown.
He was likely feeling frustrated and not in a generous mood right now, but that would change later.
Then she’d be sure to secure positions for Louisa and Gerald at Villa De Lacey.
In the meantime, they had a killer to catch.
*
“We shall need to take a trip to Knaresborough,” Bridget said. “It’s imperative we speak to George’s parents and find out what their connection is to Lady Matheson.”
“I cannot. How can I leave Villa De Lacey when there might be a killer among us?” Nate rubbed his forehead and then slammed his fist onto the desk.
Bridget jumped involuntarily.
“I’m sorry.” Nate glanced at her. “It’s just that…
it’s Henry I worry about. I don’t think this is the best or safest place for a child.
But Helen will not listen to me. She refuses to take Henry back to Scotland.
I tried to explain things to her without revealing any of the details about the possible murder of Lady Matheson, but she accused me of not wanting her and Henry here because of… .” He sighed.
“Because of what? How can she say such a thing? You love Henry. Doesn’t she know that?” Bridget felt outrage on behalf of Nate rising in her chest.
“She’s using him to blackmail me—emotionally, I mean. She accuses me of having feelings for you, and she thinks I want her and Henry out of the way.”
“Accuses you?” Bridget felt as though she’d shrunk inside.
Nate came around the desk toward her. “That’s the way it sounds when it comes from her—as if caring for you is a crime.”
Heat spread across Bridget’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze, remembering their earlier almost-kiss in the garden.
The conversation had now taken a turn into something else entirely.
For almost a year, she and Nate had danced around their feelings for one another.
And with her having been in mourning for all of that time, it hadn’t seemed an appropriate subject.
But now—no. They couldn’t. There was Villa De Lacey to think of, not to mention Henry.
He was a father! Whether he liked it or not, he’d have to do Helen’s bidding for years to come.
She looked up at him and met his midnight blue eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t wish to come between you and Henry. I know how—”
“You’re not coming between us. His mother is doing all she can to use him to control me.
” Nate threw his hands up. “And what can I do about it? Nothing. I have no claim on Henry, so I am at her mercy.” He pressed his eyes closed and took a deep breath.
“If anything happens to Henry,” he said, opening his eyes, “I shan’t ever be able to forgive myself. ”
“Don’t say such things. It’s unnerving that a killer might be lurking among us, but we don’t know that to be true.
It seems that Lady Matheson was rather unstable.
She may have been the one who killed George and then took her own life.
We know she slashed Angert’s paintings, so she wasn’t behaving rationally—although I tend to think her awful husband drove her to madness by locking her up for years. ”
“You may be right. But until we know that for certain, I cannot leave our guests or my son alone.”
“Of course not. Henry needs you here. I shall go,” Bridget said.
“No.” Nate shook his head. “I can’t allow you to go. It’s too dangerous.”
“You cannot allow it?” Bridget raised her eyebrows.
Nate at least had the awareness to blush a little. “I mean, your aunt won’t allow it. You know it would upset her greatly.”
“Then she shall come with me.”
“Who will run the inn? Mrs. Harley is with child. I cannot impose on her.”
“Harriet is here, and she is more than capable. She can take care of Bijou and help manage the staff. Anything beyond her capabilities, you can surely see to,” Bridget said.
“Harriet? She’s a lady’s maid. What does she know of running an inn? And won’t you and your aunt need her with you?”
“We will take Louisa for a lady’s maid and Gerald for a driver, seeing as they know where the Phillips family lives.”
Nate hesitated.
“Are you still concerned about what people will think? What do they say about you to your brother?”
“Not in the least,” Nate said. “My brother can go to the dev…”
Bridget suppressed a smile. “I shall leave tomorrow morning.”
“Very well,” Nate said, still looking perturbed. “But I insist that Bennett accompany you. I don’t trust Gerald to drive you there alone.”
“Bennett? How will you do without your valet?”
“I’ll do better knowing he is protecting you in Harrogate than dressing me over here,” Nate said.
Bridget smiled. She could not think of a sweeter gesture.