Chapter Nineteen
Lisbeth woke with a start, images of Dalmere looming above her filled her mind, his eyes filled with hatred and murderous intent. Frantic, she swept her gaze around and saw, except for the many vases overflowing with a profusion of flowers of all sorts and colors, that her bedroom was empty.
Relief washed over her as she drew in a breath. Every attempt she made at swallowing had agony ripping through her. It felt like the silk rope of the supper tent still surrounded her throat, still constricted her breathing. Still tried to steal the life from her.
Oliver!
She wanted to scream out his name, have him rush to her, comfort her.
Take her away from here. Her mouth remained silent, and her room remained empty.
She pushed back the heavy covers and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her bare toes dangled above the floor, her nightgown twisted and damp against her skin.
She felt woozy and the room spun in a slow arc around her.
Closing her eyes, she tried to calm the military tattoo drumming away in her chest.
She was fine.
She was alive.
She was in her room.
No need for such hysterics.
Lisbeth opened her eyes and looked out the window. It was dark and gloomy, as it had been every day this year. Only, this wasn’t every day. This was the day she was finally free of the mantle of murderer.
The Black Raven had taken flight and flown away for good. She had completed her vow to reclaim her life. She should be overjoyed. So, why wasn’t she?
The clock chimed in the hall and Lisbeth jumped. The sharp intake of breath hurt so much she found she had to clutch her throat to stop the pain. What time was it? For the first time in years she had no idea. She had no schedule to guide her, no pocket-watch to remind with its incessant ticking.
It was strange, daunting, but at the same time it felt good. Her schedule had been a blessing and a burden. Now she was free of it, could she manage on her own? Take her days as they came and live without the deep-seated terror Nathaniel had implanted in her all those many horrible years ago?
If Oliver was by her side, she was sure she could do anything.
She heard the sound of singing gradually becoming louder.
Marie. It made her smile. Her sister was here.
She wasn’t alone, hadn’t been abandoned.
Marie came into the room with a massive flower arrangement in front of her, still trilling like a songbird.
Lisbeth had never had her sister’s talent for singing, not that it mattered, now.
Then the thought struck her with the force of a runaway carriage.
What if she never was able to talk again?
What if this damage was permanent? The thought was as horrifying as it was shocking.
Her fingers stroked gently over the bruised flesh of her throat.
Dalmere may not have killed her, but he may still have damaged her forever.
“Oh, you’re awake!” Marie exclaimed when she turned from putting down the flowers. She rushed over to Lisbeth and hugged her fiercely. “Oh, my dearest. You look very pale. Would you like some water? Or lukewarm tea?”
Lisbeth made a T with her two index fingers.
Marie smiled and briefly went out into the hall.
Lisbeth let one tear escape down her cheek before she wiped it away.
Now was not the time to grieve for a voice she was not sure she had yet lost. When Marie returned it was with yet another vase of flowers.
Lisbeth lifted a brow at her sister in question.
“Oh, these?” Marie read the little note attached.
“These are from the Warrington hothouse in Sussex. Aren’t they stunning?
They have the best hothouses in all of England.
Flowers have been arriving all morning from all manner of people.
I imagine there was many a shocked face reading the papers this day.
Finally, everyone knows the truth, Lisbeth.
You can finally get rid of the Black Raven for good.
” Marie hugged her tightly, pulled back, smiled, and then hugged her again.
“In any case, I have decided not to read those awful scandal sheets ever again and only read LaBelle Assemblée from now on. I won’t know any of the gossip, but I shall be very well dressed.
” Marie twirled around and laughed. Lisbeth clapped her hands and stifled a laugh she knew would only bring her pain.
So, everyone knew. It appeared Oliver had made good on his promise to report the truth.
Yet he did not know the whole truth, for she had yet to tell him of the ledger and diary.
How would he react to the fact he was to get back the capital his brother had invested in the speculation?
Surely, that would make him happy. Surely then they would be on even terms. But first she had to release him from whatever duty he may feel towards her.
Set him free as she had been set free. It was only fair.
Marie returned with a maid and together they helped Lisbeth dress before moving into her sitting room to sit near the cheery fire with a cup of tea. Marie sat happily with her, chatting.
“My dear Fenwick’s face was comical when I told him it was Dalmere all along who had killed Blackhurst. My husband is dear to me but sometimes he can be very narrow-minded. Dalmere had everyone fooled as to his character, it seemed.”
Lisbeth smiled and indicated for something to write on. Marie jumped up and went to Lisbeth’s writing desk in the corner and bought the small table over for her. Lisbeth took up a pencil and wrote, Where is Bellamy?
“At home or at his club, I suspect. Grandmother insisted he go home and change his clothes and stop hanging around like a lost dog in need of scraps. She said he could return this afternoon when you were rested.”
Grandmother is here? Lisbeth wrote. She wasn’t sure why she felt a thrill run through her.
Was it because her grandmother cared enough to be here, for her?
Lady Fortesque was a force to be reckoned with on a normal day.
Today was not a normal day. She had to admit she was somewhat relieved her grandmother thought to come over and take on the household duties leaving the nursing to Marie.
Lisbeth’s grandmother had never been the type to dote.
Marie laughed. “Oh yes, she is downstairs terrorizing your staff. Rollands is quite put out.” Marie rolled her eyes.
She mustn’t dismiss anyone. They are my staff. Lisbeth would not repay her loyal staff by having the wrath of her grandmother’s viperous tongue upon them.
Marie patted her hand. “Of course. Don’t fret. Your servants are safe. She is just ensuring the house does not fall down around your ears because the coal wasn’t ordered or the menu not organized.”
Well, that made sense. However, Lisbeth was not completely useless just because she could not talk. The sooner she was back in charge the better she would feel.
When is the doctor due? Lisbeth wrote next.
The sooner she was given permission from the doctor to talk, the sooner her new life could begin.
The thought of sharing it with Oliver sent her pulse to skittering erratically and her whole body to feeling warm.
Would the mere thought of him do this to her in years to come? She had the distinct feeling it might.
“The doctor said he would be here at eleven so not long now.” Marie got up and smiled down at Lisbeth. “I am so glad you are all right. I don’t know what I would have done had Dalmere taken you from us. Wretched man. I hope they hang him.”
Yesterday, she would have wholeheartedly agreed.
Now? There was a time when there had been a real danger she might have met the same fate.
The difference being that he had committed the crime and she had not.
Still, she felt uneasy about sending another person to their death.
Blackhurst had done a heinous thing to the investors of the speculation, but did he deserve death?
Blackhurst had treated her terribly and unjustly but as much as she had on many occasions wished him to Hades she had never considered murder.
I am glad you are here too. You are doing such a good job of looking after me.
Marie hugged her. “Well, it is the least I can do considering all that has happened between us. I should never have doubted you. I know you have forgiven me, but I still feel… miserable about the whole thing.” Marie seemed surprised by her tears and turned away.
Lisbeth took her hand and showed her what she had written. Please don’t cry. I am just so happy to have you, Fenwick, little Michael, and Grandmother back in my life. That is all I need right now.
Marie gazed at her with moist eyes. “What about Bellamy? You still love him, don’t you?”
Lisbeth bent her head and scribbled frantically on the paper. Yes, I do, but first I have to let him go. If he loves me too then maybe we have a future together.
“What is this talk of letting him go? Of course he loves you. You must tell him and be done with it.” Marie reached for the teapot. “Now, come have some more tea. We cannot have you fading away. Grandmother would kill me!”
*
The doctor announced Lisbeth was doing well, but it was better for her not to try and speak for the rest of the week. She had hoped for a better result but at least he wasn’t saying she would never talk again.
She spent a good half hour trying to compose her note to Oliver.
Marie’s words spun around her mind trying to find a comfortable spot.
Just tell him and be done with it? She couldn’t just blurt it out.
She had so much to tell him, about the ledger, about her decision to give the investors back their capital, her need to know that he was with her because he loved her too and not because he felt some misguided duty toward her.