Chapter Twenty-Three
Aunt Marianne was waiting for Bridget as she entered the villa. “Really, my dear, I must insist that you come back to bed. You will exhaust yourself. You are not yet healed.”
Bridget’s head had indeed started to ache again, and she longed to rest it on her soft pillow, but she was not ready to go back to bed. “Allow me to check on the servants first, Aunt. I want to see how everyone has been getting along without me.”
“Absolutely not! You get yourself upstairs, and I’ll check on the servants,” Aunt Marianne ordered.
Bridget opened her mouth to object, but Aunt Marianne had already stalked off in the direction of the servants’ stairs.
“Miss De Lacey!”
Bridget looked up to see Mrs. Harley coming down the stairs. “I’m so pleased to see you up and about. I heard that you had a nasty fall in the woods. What an ordeal.”
“Thank you,” Bridget said, surprised that yet another guest was inquiring about her well-being. She hadn’t thought any of them cared. “How kind of you to ask after me.”
“Well, I know what it’s like to be stuck in confinement.” She caressed her exceedingly slim belly. “It can get lonely sometimes.”
Bridget nodded. “How have you been feeling? I hope you have been comfortable here.”
“Everything has been delightful,” Mrs. Harley said. “I only wish Mr. Harley’s aunt would allow me to enjoy all Windermere has to offer.” She sighed. “I know the babe’s health is the most important thing, but as I said, it does get lonely.”
“I’m sorry,” Bridget said.
Mrs. Harley shrugged, and said casually, “I’d be happy to sit with you while you recover if your aunt will permit it. I could use the company myself.”
“Oh,” Bridget said, a little uncomfortable with the woman’s strange request. “Thank you, but I don’t plan on spending any more days in my room. I have work to do. This inn isn’t going to manage itself.”
“Is Mr. Squires so demanding that he’s going to force you back to your duties already?”
“No, of course not. He wishes me to rest. I prefer to keep busy.”
Mrs. Harley nodded. “Well, if you’re not going to stay abed, perhaps you’ll permit me to walk out with you in the garden every now and then.
Lady Darby won’t let me out on my own in my condition, and I should like someone else’s company besides my lady’s maid.
It will be refreshing. I understand you know everything about the garden plants and trees. ”
“Of course,” Bridget said. “I would love to accompany you sometime. Perhaps, not today.” She gestured to her forehead. “I am feeling rather tired today.”
“You poor dear. Do you remember how it all happened? What made you go out on your own in the middle of the night like that?”
Bridget’s cheeks warmed. “I don’t remember anything at all from that night. One bump on the head and the entire evening has been erased from my memory.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Harley’s small eyes widened an inch. “That must be a relief to forget the whole frightening ordeal.”
“Not entirely. I wish I could remember. Believe me, I am trying very hard.”
“It’s best you don’t, dear.” Mrs. Harley gave her a faint smile. “The mind can play such awful tricks.”
Bridget frowned and then immediately winced as she felt the pain in her forehead. She had to remember to stop doing that.
“Well, I must get back to my room now. The babe’s health is most important you know. But we shall walk soon. I promise.”
What a strange encounter, she thought as she watched Mrs. Harley make her way back upstairs.
*
“That’s it! Gently now.” Nate crouched by the lake holding Henry over the water as the little boy poked his makeshift boat with a stick, sending it out into the lake.
The paper vessel floated a few feet from the shore and the child clapped.
Nate clasped the boy close to him as they both watched the little boat.
He marveled at the child’s rosy cheeks and sweet smile.
How was it possible that two days ago he knew nothing about this boy?
This sweet child who he instinctively knew belonged to him.
“Oh, look, Henry, your papa is here.” Henry’s nanny appeared at Nate’s side. “Let me take you to see him.” She stretched out her arms.
The smile faded from Nate’s face as Henry left his hold.
“Papa!” Henry pointed to Lord Luxton, who had been wheeled down to the lake by his valet. Lady Luxton remained beside Nate as he watched Henry’s nanny place him on Lord Luxton’s lap. The little boy rested his head against Lord Luxton’s chest as the manservant pushed them away on a walk.
“He’s the image of you,” Lady Luxton purred.
“That matters not. His father is Lord Luxton.”
“For now,” she said.
“Forever.” Nate watched as Lord Luxton and Henry moved farther in the distance.
Lady Luxton sighed. “When Lord Luxton dies, Henry will need his true father. I know you won’t abandon him.” Then she left him, walking in the direction of her husband and son.
Nate swallowed the bitter lump in his throat, as he watched the group, feeling the pain of what might have been.
*
Wanting to clear his head, Nate walked for some time down the shore, embracing the glacial lake and its surrounding greenery.
He did his best to push Helen out of his mind, slipping his right hand into his trouser pocket, and feeling for the button.
There was no question in his mind that someone had been following Bridget and had intended to do her harm. But who?
Remembering the blood seeping through Lady Eamont’s white glove after she’d pricked herself with Madam Bouffant’s brooch, her name was the first that came to his mind.
There was something deranged about that woman.
She had a cruel, bloodthirsty streak and he did not doubt that, given the chance, she would have gladly pushed Madam Bouffant down the stairs.
She also had a solid motive to hurt Bridget.
Adelia had given Bridget the brooch, informing her that her mother had stolen it.
Although that did not seem to threaten Lady Eamont, she may have been concerned that Adelia had revealed other secrets to Bridget as well.
And what about Adelia herself? If she were half as mad as Bridget had said she’d been on the day of her sister’s big announcement, then they were all in trouble. Finally, there was—
“Dodsworth?” Nate said as he spotted his friend emerging from the lake, stark naked, with Jefferson following behind him.
Nate grinned. They’d braved the cold and gone for a swim.
There was nothing better than stripping off one’s clothes and plunging into the refreshing waters of Lake Windermere. Perhaps, he’d join them.
He walked toward his friends as they dressed, ready to surprise them. He was glad to see Dodsworth as he still wanted to ask him about his sudden betrothal to Lydia. Maybe it wasn’t too late to warn him about the Eamonts. He deserved to know the madness that was about to become his family.
But as Nate got closer, he saw that the atmosphere between his friends had changed. Dodsworth and Jefferson weren’t smiling anymore. They appeared to be involved in a heated discussion. Jefferson was shaking his head and gesturing with his hands, and Dodsworth looked to be pleading.
Nate stopped, uncertain what to do. Then Dodsworth put one hand on Jefferson’s shoulder and another on his face.
The way they looked at each other spoke volumes, and Nate suddenly understood what Lydia had meant by a “hanging offense.” They were lovers.
She’d discovered their secret—and she’d used that information to coerce Dodsworth into marrying her.
Nate felt the fool. How had he not known?
Dodsworth had been his friend for years.
Granted, proclivities such as his weren’t information one bandied about.
But he’d always thought of Dodsworth as a rake.
Now he understood that his friend must have been living in fear that someone would discover the truth, so he’d played along, telling everyone he wanted to remain a bachelor and enjoy his freedom.
Not wanting to intrude, Nate backed away and turned onto a path leading away from the lake. The shock of the discovery was soon replaced by another thought. Dodsworth wasn’t a murderer, but could Jefferson have killed to protect their secret?