Chapter 28
Tristan broke the seal and unfolded the letter. His eyes moved over the first few lines before he began to read aloud, his voice carrying across the room.
“My dearest brother, I hope you will forgive me for the distress my sudden departure must have caused, but I could not remain at home when I have finally been given the opportunity to be with the gentleman I love. I beg you to reconsider your refusal to allow us to marry.
I know you do not approve of him, but I cannot believe you would wish to prevent my happiness.
You must remember that Father would never have wished for you to withhold my dowry or prevent me from making my own choice.
Whatever your opinion of my chosen suitor is, you must honor our father’s wishes.
You always teased me that I was Father’s favorite duckling…
” Tristan paused, his gaze lifting from the page to meet Beatrice’s.
“He called her his button,” she said, frowning. “Because of her nose.”
Tristan nodded, “Oliver is our duckling.” He looked back at the letter. “Georgiana is letting us know she is not behind these words.” He continued reading.
“I hope, therefore, that you will think upon what I have said and understand that I cannot abandon the man I love.
I shall send another note with the time and place at which we may meet.
I ask that you come prepared to agree to our marriage and to release my dowry to me.If you refuse, I fear there will be nothing left for us but to leave for Scotland and marry without your blessing.
I do not wish matters to come to that, Tristan, and I hope you will not force me to choose between my family and the man I love.
Your affectionate sister,
Georgiana.”
“I will kill him with my bare hands!” Nathaniel hissed as he paced the room. “Where is Markham?”
“She will be ruined!” Charlotte exclaimed softly.
“I am more concerned for her life,” Helena replied, her expression tight with worry.
What Helena said voiced the fear in his own mind. Tristan moved to stand beside his wife and placed his hand upon the small of her back, not sure whether he wanted her or himself to feel reassured by the touch. She leaned into him, her shoulder pressing against his chest, accepting his comfort.
“Nathaniel,” Tristan called to his friend, who had continued pacing.
Nathaniel turned to look at him, his eyes wild with rage.
“If it comes to a fight, which I hope to prevent, I will have the first strike,” Tristan remarked, feeling Helena tense as the words left his mouth.
Nathaniel huffed and nodded. “It will not come to that, but yes. Yes, of course.”
Tristan turned to Helena. “It will not. I will not allow it to.”
Helena looked up at him. He could see she wanted to believe him, but he could also see that the uncertainty of what lay ahead left plenty of room for doubt.
The door opened a moment later, and Mr. Markham returned to the room. Tristan stepped forward and held out the letter. “It is a ruse.”
Mr. Markham accepted it without reply. He read through the letter once, his expression becoming increasingly thoughtful as his eyes moved over the page. When he reached the end, he looked up.
“I agree, My Lord. If Miss Wycliffe had written this of her own accord, she would have named the gentleman she intended to marry. The baron has forced her to write it,” he continued.
“But he has deliberately left his own name out. Should you take this to the authorities, he can claim that Miss Wycliffe left willingly to be with some gentleman of her choosing. There is nothing here that directly places him with her.”
The room fell silent as everyone watched Mr. Markham. In his late thirties, he was lean and composed, with intelligent eyes that seemed to take in every detail. He possessed a commanding presence that required little effort to make itself felt.
For a moment, Mr. Markham said nothing. He looked down at the letter once more before folding it carefully. “This is proof that the baron is becoming desperate.”
Tristan frowned. “Why?”
“Because this plan does not truly protect him.” Mr. Markham looked at him.
“If he succeeds in forcing you to agree to the marriage, he obtains Miss Wycliffe's dowry, but his name will still become known. If he takes her to Scotland and marries her without your consent, the circumstances surrounding her disappearance will still come to light. Either way, once she is found, questions will be asked.” He paused.
“Until now, everything I have uncovered concerning the baron has been remarkably neat. His plans are carefully arranged, and whenever something must be done, he appears to ensure that another person carries it out. He keeps himself at a distance and leaves as little evidence as possible.”
Mr. Markham glanced at the letter in his hand. “This is different; it is rash. He has taken a young lady from the middle of London, forced her to write a letter to her family, and demanded an answer within hours. He is acting without the care I have seen in his other dealings.”
Tristan's expression hardened. “The revelation that we were on to him, which Georgiana delivered yesterday, forced his hand.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Markham replied. “A man who is accustomed to controlling every detail is dangerous when he begins to believe he is running out of time.” He looked toward the window.
“I suspect you will not hear from him until this evening. In the meantime, I will ready my men. I shall send one of them here, and the moment you receive word, he will find me and I will return.” He paused.
“I shall also determine which properties he is connected to and formulate a plan for each, should one of them prove to be the location your sister is being held.”
“From what you know of him, do you believe he will hurt her?” Helena asked, worry crossing her features as she stepped forward.
“The baron is financially ruined and indebted to very dangerous men,” he replied.
“Fortunately for Miss Wycliffe, her money is far more valuable to him than anything else. I believe that may keep her unscathed.” His expression softened as he looked toward the Wycliffe family.
“I do not give up easily, nor do my men. As dire as this situation is, there is still hope.”
With that, he gave Tristan a nod before leaving. “My Lord.”
The hours of the day dragged on. Charlotte refused to leave, as did Nathaniel, and Tristan was grateful for their support and company. Mr. Markham had been right; the evening came, and with it, another note.
Before breaking the seal, Tristan sent a footman to inform Mr. Markham's associate. The messenger left at once to summon him.
Tristan unfolded the letter and read it aloud.
“My dearest brother, I have thought carefully upon all that has passed, and I beg you to understand that I cannot allow anything to prevent me from marrying the gentleman I have chosen.
I shall meet you at ten o'clock this evening, at the place named below, and I ask that you come alone.If you go against my wishes and inform the authorities, I fear I shall have no choice but to leave with him immediately. You must understand that I cannot allow anyone to interfere between us, and I beg you, for the sake of our family, to respect my wishes.”
Tristan's eyes stopped upon a dark mark near the bottom of the page.
“There is an inkblot here,” he said, examining the letter more closely.
“And what appears to be tear stains.” His voice faltered, looking at the final lines before continuing.
“If you refuse to do as I ask, you will have another of your siblings to mourn.”
For several moments, no one spoke.
“The baron is abandoning all caution,” Tristan said at last, his voice hardening.
“What purpose does it serve now to make Georgiana write as though she has willingly run away with some gentleman? He has just threatened her life.” Tristan looked down at the letter again.
There was no signature, only a location written beneath the final words. “The location is near the docks.”
Nathaniel rose from his chair. “So, he has abandoned any pretense of keeping himself out of it.”
“Not entirely,” Tristan replied. “There is still no mention of his name. But he has made his threat plain enough.” He folded the letter carefully. “And he wants me to come alone.”
While the party waited for Mr. Markham’s arrival, Nathaniel and Tristan discussed possible plans, but Tristan noticed how quiet Helena had become. She was deep in thought, wearing the expression of someone solving a problem, her gray eyes alive with ideas.
They did not have to wait long for Mr. Markham.
He arrived promptly, read the letter, and recognized the location.
“It is one of his properties, though apparently one he does not use often,” Mr. Markham explained.
“I have already devised a plan for the building, and I do not believe he will have many men in his employ at present. He lacks the funds to maintain them.”
Tristan and Nathaniel began to explain what they thought they might do, but Helena’s voice cut through theirs.
“He expects Tristan to arrive, and he will have a plan prepared; he will know precisely how he intends the meeting to proceed.” Her voice was clear, her expression determined.
“If Tristan arrives with Nathaniel, he will react in anger and, most likely, rashly, because he will no longer have control of the situation.”
Mr. Markham nodded in agreement.
“The baron has always underestimated me, though,” Helena continued.
“Absolutely not!” Tristan growled. “You will not leave this house, Helena.”
Helena held his gaze, and he saw the firm resolve in her eyes.
“I would surprise him, and I would not appear to be a threat. He would have no idea how I might respond, and perhaps I could provoke him into confessing.” She paused, studying Tristan carefully.
“We have witness accounts, and we do have a case, but his own confession would condemn him. He would not be able to deny what he had done, shift the blame, or cast doubt upon the testimony of those who have spoken against him simply by relying upon his position.”
“I cannot allow you to do this, Helena.” Tristan could feel himself trembling, caught between anger and fear.
“You must,” Mr. Markham said, stunning everyone in the room.
“For your wife is right. A confession from him would leave little room for appeal, and I believe that if anyone could provoke such a confession, it would be her.” He looked toward the countess.
“The woman who denied him her dowry, the woman who married into even greater wealth, which he desires. And, most importantly, the woman he has always underestimated.”