Chapter Twenty-four #2
Isabella’s legs felt heavy as she exited the hidden passageway, but she was so relieved to be free of the cloying chamber that she easily dismissed the pain.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on retaining her composure.
The rose-colored hues of the bedchamber had deepened in the afternoon sunlight, offering a comforting balm to Isabella’s fragile emotions.
She seated Thomas on the floor with his back pressed firmly against the wall at the opposite end of the room.
He remained quiet and docile, and Isabella noted thankfully that the tortured look had eased from his eyes.
She joined him on the floor, extending her legs out in front to stretch the stiff, aching joints.
After a short time, the three grim-faced men emerged from the passageway. Isabella rose to her feet.
“What did you find?”
“Who are you, young woman?” Lord Rathwick demanded. He was a short, portly man whose generous jowls quivered when he spoke. He smelled of horses and tobacco.
“This is Isabella Browning, governess to my children,” Damien interjected. “Miss Browning, may I present Lord Rathwick.”
Isabella automatically sank into a curtsey. The magistrate returned her greeting with a short nod of his head, running a distrustful eye from Isabella’s dusty shoes to her unkempt hair. His heavy, dark brows crinkled in confusion.
“I still don’t understand why she is here, Saunders,” he said in a gruff voice. Puffing out his chest, Lord Rathwick added, “It’s highly improper having a woman around an official investigation.”
“I have a right to be here,” Isabella said, drawing herself up to her full height and bringing her eyes level with Rathwick’s. “Emmeline was my sister.”
The magistrate’s jowls shook. He opened and closed his mouth several times, looking so much like a fish that Isabella was hard pressed not to laugh out loud. Instead she ignored Lord Rathwick and asked Jenkins, “What did you discover?”
The valet never hesitated. “Lady Emmeline’s neck and ankle were broken and the side of her face pressing against the stone floor was smashed.
There is a deep rut in the flooring. She must have tripped and fallen.
We found a small candle stub and a thin line of spilled wax near her left hand.
It was impossible to tell if the flame went out in a draft, as Lord Poole’s candle did, and caused the fall, or if Lady Emmeline simply missed her footing and stumbled on the uneven ground. ”
“It was a horrible accident,” Damien added solemnly.
“An accident, you say?” Lord Rathwick raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Now that’s for me to decide. ’Course, ruling all this an accidental death would be a convenient conclusion for you, wouldn’t it, Saunders?”
Isabella saw Damien’s jaw tighten, but he refrained from answering.
“Just what are you insinuating, Lord Rathwick?” Isabella demanded.
“I am trying to discover the truth, young woman,” the magistrate said pompously. “Since Lady Emmeline was your sister, maybe you can give me a reasonable explanation as to why she was alone in that dark, hidden passageway.”
Isabella gestured helplessly, looking first to Damien and then to Jenkins for support.
“I think this will provide the answer. It was found in the pocket of Emmeline’s riding habit,” Damien said. He pulled from his coat a fragile, leather-bound book.
Lord Rathwick rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
He took the volume out of the earl’s hand and flipped through several pages.
Squinting, Lord Rathwick moved into a rose-colored shaft of sunlight.
Grasping the book tightly, he extended his arms as far as they would reach.
“Can’t read all that well without my spectacles, but this appears to a journal of sorts. Who the deuce is Lady Anne?”
“Emmeline had Lady Anne’s journal?” Isabella felt a flush of excitement. “Good heavens, Emmeline must have been searching for the treasure. That’s why she was in the hidden passageway.”
“Lady Anne’s treasure? I remember hearing those wild tales when I was a boy, but I didn’t think anyone believed that silly old legend,” Lord Rathwick said with a frown.
“And yet, there doesn’t appear to be any evidence indicating a crime.
Although I find it a bit of far-fetched thinking to say Lady Saunders was searching for treasure, I suppose it is a reasonable explanation. ”
“That is a completely far-fetched and totally ludicrous notion.” Lord Poole’s voice, strong and steady, fell over the room.
Isabella watched him rise on his feet, push himself away from the wall, then move to join them.
She was glad his deep melancholy had faded, but she was alarmed to see the fire of revenge that now gleamed in his eye.
“Emmeline would never have gone on such a harebrained escapade. She had far too much dignity.”
“What do you think happened, Lord Poole?” Lord Rathwick inquired politely.
“I think it is obvious. Saunders killed her and hid her body in the wall.”
“Oh, Thomas, you can’t believe that,” Isabella cried, appalled by the accusation.
“Why not? It is as good an explanation as the accident theory. ’Twas was common knowledge their marriage was not a happy one.” Lord Poole gave Damien a shrewd look. “Divorce is a long, costly, and unpredictable process. Surely there are easier ways to rid oneself of an unwanted wife.”
“How dare you,” Damien said through his teeth. Isabella could see the earl’s temper flaring, but he stood perfectly still, his hands in clenched fists at his sides.
“Oh, I dare, Saunders,” Lord Poole sneered. “I vow you will pay for Emmeline’s death, and pay dearly.”
“You are still upset, Thomas,” Isabella said gravely. She set her arm gently on his shoulder. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
“He is deranged,” Jenkins said scornfully.
“Murder is a very serious accusation, sir,” Lord Rathwick said. “It will be necessary for me to conduct a formal investigation. Question witnesses, search for clues, that sort of thing. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
If the situation weren’t so grave, Isabella would have laughed out loud at Lord Rathwick’s abrupt change of attitude. He no longer seemed enamored of his position as magistrate now that it appeared the job would entail actual work.
But this was no time for levity. She needed to act and act quickly if there was any hope of avoiding disaster.
“Excuse us, gentlemen,” Isabella said. “I must confer with my brother in private.”
She grasped Lord Poole’s arm firmly and led him to the far corner of the room.
Isabella saw his eyes become wary, but she pressed on.
She firmly believed that somewhere beyond the hurt and anger in Thomas’s mind lay a measure of reason.
Somehow she must convince him to abandon his pursuit of vengeance and save them all from unnecessary pain and grief.
She must chose her words carefully. The wrong turn of phrase might further inflame him, and the chance for a peaceful conclusion to this horrible incident would be lost.
“You must stop this, Thomas,” Isabella began without preamble.
“I understand that you are hurt and angry, but the course you are pursuing will accomplish nothing. It will only lead to more heartache for all of us, yourself included. If you force yourself to look deeply, honestly, within your heart, I know you will conclude that Damien would never commit such a heinous crime.”
Lord Poole narrowed his eyes. “Pray don’t tell me that monster has stolen your regard, Isabella. I could not tolerate losing both my sisters to him.”
“You are misreading the situation. My relationship with the earl is not at issue. Lord Rathwick is willing to drop the matter; he will only pursue it if you insist.” She reached for his hands and held them tightly in her own.
“Don’t make this into a spectacle. Think of the children.
Catherine and Ian will suffer greatly. And so will I.
Please, I beg you, do not allow that to happen, Thomas. ”
The silence stretched for an eternity. “How can I refuse you, Isabella? It would be pure torture for me to see you so unhappy.”
The relief that washed through Isabella was so strong, it left her weak-kneed. She took a deep and audible breath before murmuring a simple, heartfelt, “Thank you.”
Releasing his hands she turned, but Lord Poole pulled her back. “Ah—Isabella, there is one small favor I must ask of you in return.”
“Of course, anything.”
“I refuse to spend any more time than is absolutely necessary in Saunders’s company. I shall make appropriate arrangements for our departure to occur as soon as possible. I hope you will be ready.”
“Ready?”
“To leave,” Lord Poole said. “I am firmly committed to your future happiness, and I am more than willing to indulge you, as I have amply demonstrated this afternoon. But there are limits to my endurance. I cannot possibly allow you to live here any longer.” He gave her a sly smile.
“Shall we inform Lord Rathwick of our decision?”
Isabella blinked. The room suddenly felt overbearingly stuffy and hot.
Lord Poole’s magnanimous gesture, which had seemed so noble and unselfish moments before, took on an ominous taint.
Isabella understood the underlying meaning of his words.
He was willing to do what she asked and drop the matter entirely. For a price. Her freedom.
“It will be as you wish, Thomas,” Isabella heard herself saying, closing her eyes to conceal her distress.
Lord Poole spoke contritely when he told the others of his concurrence that Emmeline’s death was an accident. Isabella stood by his side, too stunned to say anything.
Lord Rathwick looked at them strangely and pursed his lips. “Is that truly your final word, Lord Poole? Think hard before you answer, man, for once I rule the death an accident, I’ll not be reopening the case for any reason.”