Chapter 14
M organ knew that he should have told his wife where he was going, but he could not face her.
He had been the one to tell her that they would be staying where they were, as that had been his intention, but he had made a promise to his niece and he had to keep it.
The guilt that he felt about hiding so much from Dorothy was immeasurable, but he had to continue doing so for a short while longer. One day, he would explain everything and hopefully she would understand, but that time had not yet come and he doubted that it would for a long time.
He hated London. He hated how many people were there, and how everyone recognized him.
It also did not help him in his search, as all that he had to go on was that her name had been Elizabeth, and even then she could well have lied about that out of shame.
He did not know where to begin, other than looking for the names of ladies that had died when Catherine was five years old, three years ago.
His first idea was to look at the parish records in London, as if the lady had met Thomas there, it was likely that that was where she had lived. It was not the only place, but it was where he hoped to find her.
The parish priest, Mister Granville, seemed surprised to see him on a Thursday afternoon.
"Good afternoon, Your Grace," he greeted. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I wish to see the parish records. I am searching for the name of a lady that passed away three years ago. Might you be able to assist me?"
"Certainly. Might I enquire as to why you are searching for this information?"
"I would prefer to keep that to myself, if that is all right with you."
The parish priest, thankfully, did not question him further.
"There is a lot to read, Your Grace. Might you have a name, so that I can search for it for you?"
"All I have is the name Elizabeth. She died around December seventeenth, three years ago."
The parish priest searched in a large book of records, finding the date and looking around it.
"There is one Elizabeth here," he explained. "A baroness. She died at the age of four-and-sixty. Could that be her?"
Morgan shook his head. It was highly unlikely that a woman of that age would have a child, but even if that had happened it was known to him that the lady he was looking for wished to marry Thomas. Therefore, it was impossible that she had been married to another man.
"That is all that I can find," he explained. "Might you know where she lived?"
"No, though that would have made all of this much easier," he sighed.
"Perhaps I will have to explain this to you after all.
You see, this is all because of… of a friend of mine.
He had a child out of wedlock, and he has since passed away, and I am trying to find the mother of his child.
I know that she has passed, but the child is asking about her. "
"I see," he replied, in thought. "That shall be no small feat, Your Grace, given that you do not even know if she has been honest about who she was."
"I know, which is why I was hoping that I would be able to find her here. Are there any young ladies at all written here?"
"Not that I saw, no. Given the circumstances, it is highly likely that her family refused to have her listed. It is not unheard of, after all."
It was yet another difficulty to overcome; there might have been no proof of her existence at all.
"I understand," he sighed. "Thank you for your time, Mister Granville."
"You are most welcome. I must also congratulate you on your wedding. I hope that your marriage is a very happy one indeed."
It could be, he considered, once he stopped lying to her.
There were very few members of the ton that he could stomach, and Theodore Alanson was one of them.
He was a second son, one that was most pleased to be one as it meant that he could shirk all of the responsibility.
They used to have that in common, but they no longer did.
Fortunately, on the odd occasion that he was in London, they continued to enjoy one another's company.
When they met at White's that night, he hoped that some time with a companion of his would help him think about something other than his situation, but he also knew that he needed help.
"It all sounds difficult," Alanson said after Morgan had explained everything. "I certainly do not envy you. Your brother must have decided to curse you even in death."
"It appears that way," Morgan huffed. "He seems to have always intended to destroy the family name."
"And yet, you have not allowed it. This is simply something to overcome, and then that will be the end of it, will it not?"
"I hope that is the case, but knowing Thomas there will be more to come. It never seems to end with him."
"Ulverston, it is perhaps time to forgive your brother and let him rest. I know that he has done many things that you have not agreed with, but he has been gone for three years now. It is not going to help you if you always think of him as a petulant child that did as he pleased."
"That was precisely who he was. He never felt the need to be responsible, and he was reckless until the day he died. I forgave him long ago for the way that he was, but that does not mean I can forget it, not when the effects of it are still present."
He drank his brandy and slammed the glass down perhaps a little harder than he planned.
"You have not yet found that girl, have you?" he asked.
Morgan had not told his friend the extent of the trouble Thomas had caused, but he had given him a brief explanation when Thomas had died.
All he had said was that it was an affair of honor, and it had been because of a young lady.
Morgan had planned to find her, so that he could at least try to make amends with her family, but he faced a single issue and then he never tried again.
At least, not until Catherine had asked him.
"No, and I do not know how I ever will. There is no proof that she was ever even named Elizabeth. What is one supposed to do with that?"
"Well, have you considered finding the man that brought Catherine to you? He seemed to know your brother."
"He also believed her name was Elizabeth."
"Precisely. Should that be the case, you can ask him if he ever knew more about her. He could have been lying for the sake of your brother, but now that you are enquiring directly, he may be swayed."
Morgan considered this greatly. He remembered the man that had brought Catherine to him well, and he had in truth planned to pay him a visit eventually or even invite him to stay for dinner one night so that he could meet her.
Again, he had left it so long that he no longer felt it was right to do it.
"This is all so preposterous," he grumbled. "I have forgiven my brother, but I wish he had at least caused less chaos before leaving it for me to fix."
"Yes, well, brothers tend to do that."
His friend was grinning wickedly, and Morgan envied him greatly.
He wished that he could have been the carefree second son that he was meant to be, and left everything for Thomas instead, but that had never been his role.
It was for the best that he was now the Duke of Ulverston, as awful as he felt to think that, but he never should have had to shoulder such burdens.
"Does your brother loathe you?" he asked.
"Not at all. Well, at least I do not believe he does. Then again, I am not half as dreadful as your late brother. The worst that I have done is frequented a brothel or two."
"I would have said it was the visit to the eccentric that you met. The one that enjoyed painting scantily clad women."
"There is nothing wrong with painting. He actually said he liked what I made, believe it or not."
"Ah, yes, and then he hung it in his gallery."
"Actually, it was put away never to see the light of day again, but you already knew that."
Morgan laughed, in spite of how concerned he was about the task at hand.
He later returned to his lodgings and set to make a plan as to what he would do next.
He would visit Mister Smythe in the morning, and try to trace the elusive lady that had seemingly disappeared into nothing.
It was almost as if she never existed at all, and had it not been for Catherine he might have believed that.
Fortunately, it was far easier to find Mister Smythe as he had not changed his office.
All that Morgan had to do was ask a single person if they had heard of him, and he was directed the entire way.
He braced himself before knocking, hoping that something would come of his visit but knowing that he would not be so fortunate as that.
"Your Grace!" Mister Smythe gasped, not expecting him. "Welcome. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Might you have a moment? I require a word."
The man nodded, welcoming him in. Morgan looked around at the small space that he had entered, hoping that somewhere there was a letter that Thomas had sent him, something that explained what had happened beyond him having a child with a lady he had no intentions of marrying.
"What can I help you with?" Mister Smythe asked as they sat at his desk.
"It is about my brother, and the lady he… knew."
"I did wonder when you would have more questions."
"I never thought to ask anything. I wanted to care for the little girl, first."
"Ah yes, little Catherine. How is she?"
"She is coming along well. She is a funny little girl, and so intelligent, but that sickness never left her."
"That is no surprise to me. She will likely have that cold for the rest of her life, given what happened to her. It is a miracle that we have her with us at all."
Morgan had visions of what might have happened if they were not seen, and shuddered.
"You are a good man," Mister Smythe continued. "Not every man would take in his niece, let alone one born under such circumstances."
"It is what was right, and I have never once regretted it. She is a lovely girl, and I would rather have her with me than in some orphanage somewhere."
"And with a new wife, too. How does she feel about it?"
"She– she does not yet know about her. Catherine remains in her own wing of the household, and my wife does not visit that part of it."
Mister Smythe narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Do you plan to tell her at all?"
"Eventually, yes, but for the moment there is too much to do.
That is precisely why I have come to see you.
Catherine is growing up, and she has started to have questions about her mother.
When she asks about my brother, I find it easy to tell her about him, but I do not want to lie to her and I do not know the first thing about Miss Elizabeth. I was hoping that you might."
"I… Your Grace, I know only what your late brother told me. He must have thought that he would survive his duel and continue to send them money and then you never would have known a thing, and so he did not think to tell me more."
"I am not asking for much, only whether or not Elizabeth was truly her name."
Mister Smythe looked around for a moment, and Morgan knew that he was hiding something from him. He did not know what it was, nor how big of a secret it was, but it had to be something.
"Your Grace, know that what I did was for my client, your brother."
"What was it, Smythe? I shall not blame you for whatever it was."
"He claims that he left a letter for you.
It was in your household, and I assumed you might have found it by now.
Now that I am thinking about it again, however, I am realizing that he had hidden it somewhere.
I do not know where, but it is my hope that you will be able to find it upon your return. "
Morgan felt his mouth fall open. For three years, he could have had the answers he wanted, but the letter containing them had never been seen.
After so much time had passed, it could have been anywhere.
Had it been stored improperly, it might even have begun to fade, but Morgan at least knew that it had to have been hidden away in darkness, as he would otherwise have seen it by that point.
"Why did you not tell me of this?"
"I thought you would have seen it for yourself. With all of your staff, I assumed your home would be cleaned entirely so often that someone would see it. I do not know where he must have left it."
Morgan sighed, exasperated. Everything he wanted to know may well have been contained in a single page, but he had no way of knowing where it was.
"I do apologize, Your Grace," he continued. "I would never have done anything to make your search more difficult."
"There is no need to apologize. You would have assumed that my brother was intelligent enough not to do anything that might cause trouble for me, but you did not know my brother as well as I did. I shall have to return home, and continue my search there."
He left soon after, and on his journey back to his lodgings he thought to search those too. There was every chance that it had been sent there, if Thomas wished to leave it somewhere that he could take it away should he have won the duel. He sighed as he entered the building, and began his search.
He remained there three more days, turning everything there upside down in hopes of finding what he was searching for.
There was nothing, and he felt his frustration growing the more he looked.
He would have to return to his niece knowing nothing further than he had when he left for London.
He did not want to disappoint her, and so he continued on even though he knew he would not find anything.
He, of course, did not find it there. He boarded his carriage to return home and throughout the journey he tried to think of places that might not have been seen in so long. There had to be somewhere, he knew that, but he did not know just what it was.
Suddenly, he froze in place, his heart pounding. Before he had left, he had told his wife that she could change the household to her liking.
She could not find the letter before he did.