Chapter 61
61
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
William Shakespeare
At noon the next day, John Tennant stood before her in Leith’s Virginia Street study. Juliet received him there as it was absent of doors and alcoves, unlike the mansion’s other rooms where servants might overhear or even spy. Everyone had now become suspect save Loveday, Father, and Zipporah.
“I hardly know what to say, Mr. Tennant.” Another headache building, Juliet felt a touch of madness as events unfolded. “My husband has expressed concern for my safety and asked me to meet with you. Please, take a seat. Would you like refreshments?”
“A dram of whisky, aye.” He took a tufted armchair by the window, allowing her a stark view of his taciturn features once she’d summoned a maid. Gray about the temples, he was no older than forty, she guessed. Finely tailored garments made him look less gaunt, tempting her to offer more than libations. Only whisky was brought, ending the matter.
He downed the drink quickly and set aside the glass. “Since you have no idea who I am, let me say I’m a former Bow Street Runner in London. Since coming to Glasgow a decade ago, I’ve acted as auxiliary to the bailies and magistrates who police the city. I also have a cadre of men who serve as private guards. Mr. Buchanan no doubt wants one of them assigned to you.”
“An escort charged with my protection when I venture out,” she said quietly, still wondering if it was even necessary. “But I’ve felt no danger ... not yet.”
“A preventive measure, then.”
“Perhaps your time would be better spent investigating the ludicrous charge brought against my husband.”
His small, tight smile was so telling she knew at once he was already doing so. She also knew better than to press him. Mr. Tennant was an enigma. But she could certainly talk.
“I want you to know my suspicions now that I’ve acted in my husband’s stead since his arrest. Someone close to him seems determined to undermine him both professionally and personally.” She went on to explain the unaccounted-for business matters, the missing maid, and anything she felt would help Leith, however small.
When she’d finished he asked her a few simple questions rife with meaning. Had she ever noticed anyone following her? Had she ever felt afraid? Was she aware of any out-of-the-ordinary activity? Did she trust the servants?
“Thank you for taking care of my welfare in Mr. Buchanan’s absence.” She stood when he got ready to leave. “But more than that, thank you for whatever you’re doing on my husband’s behalf.”
How was it even possible that one continued to take tea, have meals, sleep, and converse when such a life-shattering event played out in unseen courts with strange jurors and judges deciding one’s future and fate? Juliet went through the motions, eating little and sleeping less. Almost everyone seemed suspect to her now—not only Cochrane, who’d leveled the charge, but even the Buchanans themselves.
As the weather changed from a wee smirr of rain to a goselet, she spent more time in Leith’s study, seldom leaving Virginia Street lest she draw notice. She could almost hear the whispering of “the murderer’s American bride” wherever she went. The news had leaked to the newspapers, at first a trickle, then a deluge. She avoided any print but heard Niall, Euan, and Father discussing details of the case from as far away as the London Gazette .
Even now, through the downpour, she detected her guard’s silhouette on the corner across from the mansion’s gates. She’d met him briefly one evening but knew nothing about him. Tennant hadn’t even told her his name, only not to be alarmed at his continual presence.
“Sister...” Loveday pushed open the door after a light rap. The toll was telling on her too. Her face seemed almost haggard, the window’s light calling out fine lines not visible before. She shut the door and gestured to the sofa before the coal fire. “I’ve been missing you and have asked that tea be brought. Herbal is quite calming with a touch of honey.”
Juliet joined her, stomach uneasy at the mere suggestion. Holding her hands out to the hearth’s heat, she tried to think of something lighthearted to say.
“You haven’t tried to visit Leith again, have you?”
Juliet still felt the cold finality of having the door literally shut in her face. “I was denied twice and told not to return.” Not only that, the man who’d let her see Leith the first time was absent. Where had he gone and why?
“The trial begins soon. I suppose it’s best you stay home, though I do wish there was no need for a guard to be lurking, always reminding you of what is at hand.”
“I need no reminding since I think of nothing else.”
Loveday squeezed her hand reassuringly. “England’s mineral baths sound especially soothing right now.”
Dear Lord, let it be.
Tea was brought, medicinal mint threading the chill parlor. Juliet looked at the closed door as her sister handed her a cup and said softly, “There’s something I cannot keep to myself any longer.”
Loveday held her cup aloft, gaze fixed on Juliet. “Then by all means tell me, and I shall keep it a secret.”
“Though I haven’t been to the countinghouse and bank in a few days, I’ve discovered during the long hours I spent there that there are records and funds that can’t be accounted for, dating to Leith’s absence when he sailed to Virginia.”
“Are you sure? Or is it being unfamiliar with the business that has led you to believe such?”
“I’ve gone over what’s missing countless times, and it forms a sort of pattern. Leith’s most trusted factor, Leo Tate, agrees with me regarding our findings. And it points to the person who would benefit most from Leith’s absence and arrest.”
Loveday set her cup aside. “Then you must tell me.”
This time it was Juliet’s turn to squeeze her sister’s cold hand. “I hope and pray I am wrong, but the guilty party in league with Cochrane may well be someone close to us.”
Horror leached the color from Loveday’s face. She simply stared at Juliet as if hoping this was all a jest or she’d misheard, or Juliet had misunderstood.
“I’m going to meet with Leo Tate again this afternoon. He sent a note round this morning that said he has new evidence that points to who is aligned with Cochrane. After that I’ll meet with Mr. Tennant again to reveal our latest findings.”
“Then I must go with you.”
“Nay, only Minette.” She looked toward the windows fronting the street.
“Can Minette be trusted?”
“I believe so, though I’ve not forgotten Lyrica sent her to me. I don’t confide in her and am careful in front of all the servants. Minette simply accompanies me along with my guard.”
“You don’t believe the guilty party is Niall, do you?” Tears shone in Loveday’s eyes. “It can’t be. He’s too selfless. Too honest.”
Juliet had never suspected Niall. “Euan.”
Loveday gasped. “What about Lyrica?”
“Lyrica may well know.”
Horror returned to Loveday’s face. “They may be complicit?”
Juliet looked toward the closed door again, her voice a scant whisper. “Since I last spoke with Mr. Tennant, we’ve uncovered extensive gambling debts. Payments to properties and mining rights that don’t actually exist, which we believe are simply a front for Cochrane’s involvement. To complicate matters, Lyrica and Euan have no heirs. Before my arrival, Leith’s will specified they were to become the twins’ guardians with his demise. I am now in the way of that.” Juliet took a sip of tea to quiet her roiling stomach. “I’m in the way of everything, showing up on their doorstep like I did, married to the principal in the firm, and standing to benefit when it was solely them before.”
“Then you’re in danger too.”
Juliet nodded. “It may be that Euan or Lyrica was pressuring or misleading Havilah’s lady’s maid to poison her under the pretense of medicinal powders. I found a doctor’s report of her symptoms in Leith’s safe here, and they’re synonymous with calomel. That maid—who happened to be attending Havilah alongside Minette’s sister—died after Havilah’s death. Minette said her sister, édith, then ran away. She denies knowing where édith is.”
“Did Leith do nothing about his suspicions at the time?”
“He attempted to locate édith as well, to no avail. The attending physician, an elderly man, has since passed away. Leith’s legal defense is now aware of all this, but there are still missing pieces.”
“Be chary, then, until the whole truth is known.”
They drank their tea in silence until Juliet excused herself and said, “Please pray for me. I am especially skittish today.”
A blast of wind buffeted the carriage as it made its way slowly from Virginia Street to the Buchanan firm. Juliet held on to her hat as she and Minette stepped out of the coach’s damp confines and hurried through the door held open by a fellow merchant. Up the stairs they went to Leith’s offices, past the clerks’ chambers and rooms full of ledgers and an enormous vault. The scent of leather, paper, and ink hung about them, and today Juliet felt particularly unwelcome.
It was two o’clock. Leo Tate would join her at half past the hour. She was early, but she’d meant to be ahead of schedule.
Juliet closed the door behind her and went to a window while Minette sat in the chair outside in the corridor. Below on the street stood her guard. She was used to his movements by now, the slow swivel of his head as he surveyed everything coming and going, including everyone in and out of the bank and countinghouse.
Had she been wrong to confide in Loveday?
Bending her head, she shut out the rain-smeared panes and prayed. Or tried to. Since Leith’s arrest she’d barely been able to string together a coherent plea.
Father, forgive me for being so ... tapsalteerie.
Should she not instead be thanking Him for a victory won, truth to prevail? She did just that, listening for Leo’s familiar footfall, grateful for his intelligent insights and unswerving belief in Leith’s innocence. What had the factor found out? Could it be the key to Leith’s release?
She chafed as the minutes seemed to lengthen. A quarter till three. Leo was never late.
Something ominous stole over her as she looked out the window again. In his note, he’d said he would be coming from the bank. She scoured the street, but it was remarkably empty on so dreich a day. She crossed the room, opened the door, and shot a questioning glance at Minette, who raised her shoulders in answer.
And then the terrible truth dawned.
Leo Tate was not coming.