Chapter 34
“He’d been taken from her, or he’d left her behind. It was a loss atop many other losses she’d already endured. This time, at least, she wouldn’t face loss alone and in the dark.”
Adelaide
When Noelle awoke, the room was still mostly dark with only a few beams of light through the curtains.
Her dreams had been of him, his warm capable hands turning to find her in her sleep, pulling her closer, closer still.
His fingers working through her hair, trailing exploratory paths down her back, curving around her body to rest at her hips.
His lips had caressed her temple, her shoulder blade, her hands.
He had been everywhere; like opium smoke, sweet and warm.
Desperate to feel him again, her hands reached across the bed, but there was none of his warmth. Her heart convulsed. She sat up, twisting and encircling the sheets around her, to no avail.
It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. He’d said he loved her.
Hadn’t he?
He had loved her with his body. Maybe he’d simply gone downstairs.
No. The bed was too cold. The house was eerily silent. Beyond, sunlight creeped toward the curtains.
No.
Tears pricked at her eyes. She wiped them with the back of her hand and let out a frustrated grunt. At the sound, the dog curled up in the corner came to sit at the side of the bed and peer up at her.
“Your master is cruel,” she said. His large, canine eyes seemed to grow larger.
She gathered Fitz's discarded shirt from the floor and put it on. Her bare legs felt cold.
She recalled how warm and rich her body had felt with Fitz’s touch the night before. She couldn’t help her sympathy pains for the discarded shirt, or the dog, it seemed they’d all been forgotten about and tossed aside.
But he’d never loved the shirt, or the dog, they had only served a purpose for him. Perhaps he’d never loved her either. She looked around at the room for signs…there was her wig on a dresser, a desk drawer hanging on its side, and a few of his belongings on the table were strewn.
On the table that housed a basin of water, sat a note.
God, he’d left her in his bed….and he’d written a note? What was the deranged man playing at? She skimmed the note, finding more questions than answers and pocketed it in her bosom, when a young maid entered.
“My lady,” she descended into a curtsy at the sight of Noelle.
“I’d like a tray, and a robe please.”
“Yes, my lady,” the girl looked confused, likely remembering Adelaide from the night before, coming to the worst conclusions about her employer.
Good. Let her. Let her think he was a scoundrel and a rogue and rake and what other terrible things she could think to call him that Noelle couldn’t think of at the moment.
Words escaped her. Words were never far from her reach, but now, they’d abandoned her.
Even her thoughts, her usual companions in times of despair, had cast her in exile.
She was a human paradox: the shepherd without sheep, the healer riddled with ailments…
the writer at a loss for words. The dog’s cold nose and wet snout on her arm offered some small comfort.
The maid returned with a tray and a robe. “I believe this was the viscountess’ robe. Will that be all, my lady?”
“His lordship?”
The girl’s eyes widened and then she composed herself. She cleared her throat. “I have not heard any sign of him. I came in here to inquire because I heard the hound.”
The robe in Noelle’s hands almost fell to the floor. The maid stooped and picked it up just in time, she grabbed Noelle with gentle hands, spun her around. She lifted up the weight of Noelle’s long curls and draped the robe about her.
Noelle gave her a nod of thanks. “I’ll simply wait here for him then.”
One corner of a smile lifted up the maid’s lips, “Anything you need, my lady, do let me know how I can be of service.” She curtsied again and took her leave.
Noelle collapsed on the bed in a heap of robe and coverlet and cool sheets.
She was so alone. Alone. The word screamed through her on a tide of disappointment. Shame followed soon after with its hungry vindictiveness. Her closest bed partner this morning….was regret. And a dog more the size of a small horse.
Noelle’s head pounded, her whole body felt molten, unable to move with all of the elements roiling through her. She drank some water from the glass the maid had left and laid back down, pulling up the covers tight around her. The dog buried his unrelenting head on the crook of her shoulder.
They bed smelled of Fitz. The shirt smelled of him. She smelled of him. She couldn’t bear to think of him even as she couldn’t escape him.
Had it all been a lie? Or a ploy to help him win back his inheritance? Had he been toying with her all along and tired of her once he’d accomplished his goal?
Something sparkled across the room. Noelle turned to it.
Fitz’s watch.
His grandfather had given it to him. She had never seen him without it. She’d helped him remove it last night. The sight of that watch brought back all of her memories. They told her one repetitive thought:
Something was wrong.
Perhaps Fitz hadn’t left of his own accord. Her shaking fingers rushed to pull the note and her spectacles from her robe pocket, her eyes scanned the words.
Before she could try to make sense of the missive, the door sounded like it was being torn down from its hinges. She pulled the robe tighter around her as Lawrence and Moria entered.
“Where is he?” Her brother boomed. Lady Moria looked more taken aback than Noelle had ever seen her, drinking in Fitz’s room, her sister lying curled up with a massive dog in his bed, wearing someone else’s frilly robe.
“He’s not here,” Moria answered for her.
Moria rushed to her sister, staying their brother with a hand as she sat down on the bed and pulled her younger sister to her.
Moria whispered soft, soothing words, rocking her side to side, drawing comforting patterns on her back.
Noelle felt the familiar prickle of salt behind her eyelids threaten but never release.
She pulled back, meeting Lawrence’s eyes.
“Something is wrong.” The words contained more strength and certainty than Noelle felt.
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed! And you’re meant to be the clever one.”
Moria reached out and slapped him. The sound reverberated in the room. The dog’s head swiveled back and forth. “Don’t make me regret bringing you along. Your ill-restrained petulance is not welcome here.”
Noelle’s mouth was agog.
“Continue, sister,” Moria admonished. Noelle shoved the note in her sister’s hands.
Lawrence read the note over Moria’s shoulder. “Trust Fitz to fuck things up beyond belief. Even his hand is unrecognizable.” Moria snatched the note from his grasp.
“I should have prevented this,” Lawrence insisted, raking a frustrated hand through his hair.
“L,” he turned toward his sister’s voice, “Do you remember when Fitz’s grandfather gave him this time piece?” Noelle held the item in question up for closer inspection in her shaking hand.
His eyes snapped to hers. “Let me see the note again.” Lawrence finished reading and began a search of the room. He tossed a dress at her, “Put this on, I have a plan.”
“I don’t understand.” Noelle shook her head, running her fingers through the wolfhound’s thick fur.
“Trust me,” he said, “I’m not sure if my observation’s correct, but I think Fitz needs Adelaide to save him.” Noelle’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Her eyes searched Lawrence’s face and then she threw back her shoulders and nodded with cool determination.
As he stepped from the room, Moria aided her sister in her dressing and ablutions. They heard their brother in the hall telling the young maid to retrieve any of her things remaining in the house…and the dog.
“Why does he think Adelaide needs to save Fitz?” Noelle voiced aloud.
“I was hoping you could answer that. What happened last night? Tell me all you want me to know.” She spun Noelle around, lacing her loosely back into the corset as Noelle recounted certain particulars.
“But you were asleep and when you awoke, he was gone?”
“That’s about the gist of it, yes.”
Moria helped her sister into her large silken skirts, buttoning them around her waist. “You never heard him leave?”
Noelle shook her head. Suddenly Noelle gasped as Moria buttoned her bodice to her skirt from behind with a little more force than necessary. Moria stopped and pulled back.
“The door!” Noelle shouted. “Hurry!” Her sister rushed to finish attaching Noelle’s tight-fitting skirt and wig to her. She followed her as Noelle found the mechanism that opened the pocket door. When their brother had entered the room, they followed Noelle into the hidden passage.
“Son of a --” His sisters both shushed and hit him before he could swear, “I was just going to say I always knew there were secret passageways in this house. Fitz was always sneaking in and taking things from his father’s rooms.”
Noelle pulled her glasses from her bosom as they paced the hallway looking for other corridors.
“What if someone entered this way and snuck in? I didn’t hear him leave…maybe this is why.”
“Look!” Lawrence pointed down. There were scuff marks on the tilework.
“Boot-sized scuff marks.”
“You think someone dragged him?!” Moria cried out.
“I think…There was a struggle here at least.”
Noelle fought the lump in her throat, her fear for Fitz’ well-being replacing the anger she’d felt earlier.
The thought of Fitz locked in a scuffle while she’d slept, dreaming of him, stole her air.
She choked on large lungfuls of oxygen, Moria leaning over to trace soothing patterns on her back while whispering comforting words.
Then finally, it was Lawrence pulling her so tight into an embrace he could set his chin on top of her head.
The dog pushed his way in between them, Lawrence ran a hand through his fir, “We’ll get him back, my loves. I promise.” He whispered resolutely to all three of them, and she must have believed him because her breaths weren’t so hard to chase down anymore.
They tried all the passageways, which were clear of any visible markings or signs that someone had been there other than the scuffmark they’d found earlier.
As Lawrence questioned the servants and looked after the dog, he left both sisters in the conveyance with his paramour Sara, whose mouth dropped at the sight of Adelaide.
Adelaide’s mouth dropped at the sight of Sara.
“I believe we both have secrets we want to keep to ourselves.” Noelle, or Adelaide, said.
The other woman smiled, “Agreed, my lady.”
“I don’t think any of this is coincidence at all.” Moria spoke, taking the tin of bon bons Sara wordlessly held out and handing them to Noelle. The gesture made Noelle feel cared for and bolstered her resolve.
Moria told her sister about how she had been at Fitz’s earlier inheritance celebration he’d held to anger his uncle, how he had asked her to leave so Noelle wouldn’t be hurt and went to his room alone.
“I’m quite sure he didn’t leave on his own,” Moria elaborated.
Noelle was inclined to agree with her. She felt the gentle strength of his hands on her body, heard his words as he’d introduced her to his mother, remembered the way they’d planned the previous evening’s ball together.
There were more signs that he had been in earnest when he said that he loved her, because Fitz was a man of deeds as much as he was words.
All three women were silent as they waited for Lawrence to return, grim-faced, to take his seat beside his courtesan, who took his hand.
“I think we all know what we have to do next.”
Noelle, or Adelaide, leaned her forehead against the window curtain. She looked down at the timepiece she’d stowed away in the pocket lining of her cloak. She traced her fingers over the engraving, worn smooth from his fingers, remembering the feel of his fingers tracing over every inch of her skin.
He’d treasured her like an heirloom, like this heirloom. He couldn’t have cast her and this time piece he carried everywhere, aside. Tears beckoned but held.
“I’ve trusted Fitz for the majority of my life. I can conceive of his motivation for lying to you or seducing you into marrying him, perhaps, though I thought he was beginning to care for you in earnest. His abandonment in such an obviously distasteful way…it doesn’t square with the man I know.
And I think you agree with me. Both of you.”
Both sisters were silent for a moment, a whole conversation passed in their eyes.
“And… the note…The watch… Adelaide… The scuffmarks? How does it all fit together?” Moria questioned on Noelle’s behalf.
Lawrence reached out to grab Noelle’s fidgeting hands and took them in his, “We will find out…together. But first, we need West.”