Chapter Twenty-Two
What is the point of teaching me to think and fight for myself if you’re going to literally storm castles and treat me like some bloody damsel in distress?
” Hannah asked as she, Sophia, and her parents were scouring Lord Hugh’s personal rooms. The rest of her friends from the Black Sheep had arrived in the morning, and they’d split into groups.
Eoin—who could barely even look at Hannah, let alone speak to her—was searching with his sister, his mother, and Powys.
Charlotte, Matthew, and Calliope formed the third contingent.
“You were with a bloody Aucourte who was proposing marriage to you!” her father grumped as he withdrew yet another bottle that still smelled faintly of gin.
Fortunately, this one was empty. They had found several bottles under the bed that Hugh had evidently used instead of a chamber pot.
Apparently, he’d been hiding the extent of his drunkenness from even the servants like a small child would sweep evidence of a broken plate under furniture.
He must have worried that the staff would report him to his father.
“Marriage! Marriage!” Pan cackled gleefully as he soared around the room. He was very pleased with himself today, especially after he’d flown into the hackney carriage after Sophia and Hannah’s mother. Since they were chasing after Hannah’s father, they’d just brought the cheeky creature along.
“Yes, he was proposing, Papa! Which, last time I checked, is not dastardly.” Hannah slowly lifted the lid of a battered trunk, half afraid of what she would find.
“Well to be fair, a betrothal could be perilous,” Sophia said as she pulled open a drawer in a massive writing desk situated near the window. “Consider Viscount Hawley. Any offer of marriage from him would have been very hazardous for the poor lady receiving it.”
“Not. Helping,” Hannah said between her gritted teeth as she paused from her search to send Sophia a scathing look. “Besides, Eoin is nothing like that murderous fiend.”
Frustration filled Hannah, although most of her fury was aimed at herself.
Yes, she could blame her father for barging into the room yesterday, but she was the one who hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell Eoin the truth.
If she had, she likely wouldn’t have wounded him so deeply.
And it hurt, knowing how much she’d injured him—nay, crushed him.
She’d spent the whole night lying awake, just wanting to rush to him and offer comfort.
But she’d lost that right. He’d asked for distance, and it was her duty to provide it, no matter what it cost her personally.
“Please cease calling the new Foxglen by his given name. Familiarity with a man that high in the instep will do you no good,” her father complained as he continued to pull disgusting glass containers from below Hugh’s feather mattress. “And why have I been assigned the filthiest duty?”
“Because you deserve a little purgatory, dear,” Hannah’s mother said in her dulcet yet crisp tone. In this, Hannah entirely agreed. She’d earned some penance herself, which was why she’d volunteered to search the cavernous trunk. Although as of yet, she’d discovered nothing but winter blankets.
“You cannot be happy that Hannah is cavorting with a duke!” Her father looked more horrified by the idea of Hannah’s mother approving of her relationship than of Hugh’s foul mess.
“You forget that I am the daughter of a nobleman,” Mama pointed out. “And once upon a time, I was sneaking out of my bedchamber to meet a dashing former pirate who swore he was now a respectable proprietor of a coffeehouse.”
“Well, that was different. I possess a proverbial heart of gold.” Papa sent his wife a wink, which she pointily ignored.
“So does Eoin,” Hannah replied fiercely as she thought of how she’d driven a dagger through his sternum.
“He has grand plans for his estates that will benefit the tenants. I even helped him scour the account books to find ways to save money in order to enact more improvements. He isn’t his grandfather, and he isn’t his title either.
He is so much more than that.” And she should have made that abundantly clear to Eoin.
“But—”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, do not become Lord Capulet.” Mama peeked out from the garderobe that she’d been sorting through. She was in charge of checking Hugh’s clothing for evidence and comparing his possessions to the late duke’s expense records for his eldest son.
“You dare to use Romeo and Juliet against me? That is our story!” Papa dramatically clasped his hand over his heart. Her mother had taught him to read using the play, and he took great pride that he could recite passages from it. He’d always seen himself as Romeo to Mama’s Juliet.
“Now your daughter is one of the star-crossed lovers, and you’re the crochety father. The late Duke of Foxglen was a terrible villain of a man, but that does not make his grandson one,” her mother said, and Hannah nearly barreled across the room to hug her.
“Eoin is a victim of his grandfather as well,” Hannah pointed out. “What the old duke did to you and Uncle was unconscionable, and I am not trying to diminish what you suffered. But that man is dead, and perhaps so, too, is the revenge that we sought.”
“She is right,” Sophia said as she sorted through a pile of missives. “Imagine being ripped away from your mother at the age of six.”
“His maternal parentage is surprising,” Papa admitted, his tone begrudging.
“And I’ve never been one to chase after ghosts.
I gave up destroying the Aucourte name decades ago.
My family and the Black Sheep were always more important to me.
But that doesn’t mean that I am happy to see my daughter with the current Foxglen. ”
Hannah’s anger toward her father started to dissipate. He was hot-tempered but so was she. But after his blood cooled, he was a kind and caring man who would do anything for his loved ones and even rid himself of valid, long-held grudges.
“The first step that Eoin took when he became a peer was to find his mother and sister.” Hannah paused to stare pleadingly at Papa.
If she and Eoin were to reconcile, she didn’t want to badger her father for his approval.
“It’s exactly the same choice that you would have made under the same circumstances. ”
“Perhaps he is not utterly a bad sort,” Papa grumbled, but Hannah knew that, for him, it was a capitulation. He might not be completely convinced, but he’d come around once he’d witnessed more of Eoin’s true nature… that is, if Eoin wished to still be part of Hannah’s life.
“Eoin is truly a wonderful person,” Hannah said as she pulled out a featherdown comforter. Beneath it lay neatly rolled-up scrolls. “Oh! I may have found something!”
As Hannah unspooled one of the parchments, everyone hurried to her side.
Maybe this was proof of Hugh’s involvement with the Horse and Hen.
Although Hannah’s desire to destroy the Aucourte family name had faded, she desperately wanted to protect Eoin.
If they could unseat the Purveyor, then Hannah could honor Eoin’s wishes to have time away from her.
But until he was safe, she didn’t want to leave his side.
“Ugh!” Hannah wrinkled her nose as the canvas unfurled to reveal a naughty image of a well-endowed woman pleasuring herself.
Sophia looked over Hannah’s left shoulder and clicked her tongue. “I don’t believe a real woman would have those proportions.”
“She wouldn’t,” Hannah’s mother agreed succinctly as she took up a position at Hannah’s right side.
“What are you three talking… oh.” Hannah’s father took several rapid steps backward as he covered his eyes.
Mama laughed. “You act as if you’d never seen a scandalous drawing before! If I recall, you used to—”
“Mama!” Hannah shouted in horror, just as Papa cried out desperately, “Not with my daughter holding it!”
Sophia laughed unabashedly as she reached for another scroll. “Let’s see if this one is any better… Oh, it’s three people this time… I don’t think that particular position is anatomically possible.”
“And now I am leaving the room,” Hannah’s father announced before he literally scurried out the door with their laughter ringing after him.
“What we discovered in Hugh’s room only proves he has the mind of a lusty, lazy adolescent.” Hannah summarized her group’s findings as everyone crowded into the great hall.
“I agree with Hannah’s initial assessment that he simply cannot be the Purveyor. He can barely take care of himself,” Sophia chimed in.
“Francis’s room was in a similar state. We did discover that he has an enormous amount of expensive shoe buckles.
Given the old duke’s accounts, I do not think that Foxglen purchased them.
” Lizzie spoke instead of her brother. Eoin had positioned himself toward the edge of the group, despite the entire investigation centering around his safety.
He was studiously avoiding Hannah’s gaze, and she’d forced herself to accept the distance even as it sliced deep.
“Hugh had expensive waistcoats, many embroidered with gold and silver threads, and in the latest styles. They weren’t listed under his expenditures either,” Hannah’s mother added.
“We checked the sisters’ rooms and found nothing particularly out of the ordinary,” Charlotte reported.
“Both women had a few expensive baubles that didn’t match the records, but nothing to the extent of the men’s.
Eliza possesses a well-organized and extremely large collection of gossip rags.
We did discover a diary of sorts in Joan’s that lists bets that she makes.
She seems quite fastidious about it, recording both her successes and losses. ”
“Would her winnings be enough to explain the extra finery?” Sophia asked.