Chapter 21
Eleanor did not know what to do, but she was willing to forego anything for the sake of her daughter.
“Mama?” Sophie asked the morning after the revelation, holding a book to her chest. “Are we still going into Bath today?”
Eleanor looked at her daughter, then at the papers on the table.
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s expression suggested he was about to object, but he did not.
“You do not have to pretend this does not frighten you,” he argued.
“I am not pretending. I am simply refusing to let Julian decide what sort of day Sophie is permitted to have.”
She still feared what might happen, but she had stopped allowing fear to make every decision for her.
“I want to speak with the solicitor before we leave,” she added.
“I will come with you.”
“I do not want you to answer for me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I had not intended to.”
Eleanor gathered the papers.
“I mean it,” she warned. “This is my daughter, and this is my defense. I need to understand every part of it myself.”
Gabriel looked at her for a long moment before his eyes softened.
In spite of everything, Eleanor could not deny they way she was drawn in by his kindness.
He was more than willing to help her, and she knew that, but she could not allow herself to be distracted by how much she was attracted to that, not when there was such an important matter at hand.
“Then we shall make certain you do.”
The solicitor’s chambers were already busy when they arrived. The new motion had clearly created urgency. Papers were being copied, and the solicitor himself looked as though he had been awake half the night. Eleanor took her seat beside Gabriel, but she did not wait for him to begin.
“What can we do immediately?” she asked.
The solicitor looked at her with a flicker of approval.
“Several things, Mrs. Hartley. We need to prepare a strong response to the motion, and we need to demonstrate that the allegations against you are contradicted by the evidence.”
“Then let us begin with the evidence.”
The solicitor opened a file. “We have your husband’s medical history, the witness statements, and the evidence concerning the inheritance.”
“What about Tibbs? His testimony was purchased.”
“We have evidence connecting a payment to one of Julian’s agents,” Gabriel added quietly.
“That will be significant.”
“Then I want it documented properly,” she instructed. “Now for the matter of Jem Carter.”
“We still cannot locate him.”
“But you have reason to believe he is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then I want the search widened. The man was present at the hunting trip. If the saddle-girth was tampered with, he may be the only person who can establish what happened.”
The solicitor made a note. “We will pursue every lead.”
“And Faulks. We have reason to believe he has been carrying information to Julian, and we have evidence that he has been communicating with one of Julian’s agents. We have not confronted him because we intend to use him to identify the channel through which information is being passed.”
The solicitor nodded slowly. “That could be valuable, provided the arrangement remains controlled.”
“It will,” Eleanor said.
She looked down at the papers before her.
“And Julian’s debts explain the inheritance. They give him a motive.”
Gabriel nodded.
“The more we uncover,” he agreed, “the clearer it becomes that Sophie is the reason for the entire campaign. I want the court to see that.”
The solicitor regarded them for a long moment before giving a small nod.
“You have a very clear understanding of what must be done.”
“I have learned that waiting for other people to protect me is not enough,” Eleanor replied.
Gabriel looked at her. Eleanor felt his gaze but did not turn.
“Sophie is my daughter,” she continued. “I will not sit quietly while men decide what is best for her without my voice being heard.”
The solicitor closed the file. “Then we shall make certain your voice is heard.”
***
By afternoon, Eleanor was taking Sophie into Bath.
The outing was modest by the standards of the ton, but that was precisely what she wanted. She wanted Sophie to walk through ordinary streets, to see familiar faces, to choose a sweet from a confectioner’s window and spend an hour thinking about something other than the danger surrounding them.
The governess accompanied them, keeping a close watch on Sophie while Eleanor guided her toward the shops.
Sophie chattered happily. She wanted to see a particular doll in a toy shop window, and to visit the lending library because the governess had promised she could choose another book.
She wanted a small cake from the bakery they had passed on the previous journey into town.
For nearly an hour, Eleanor allowed herself to enjoy the sound of her daughter’s voice. Then she saw Julian.
He stood near the entrance of the bakery speaking with two gentlemen, dressed with the same impeccable care he always displayed and smiling as though he had never caused Eleanor a moment’s pain.
His gaze found hers. The smile remained, and he excused himself from his companions and approached.
“Mrs. Hartley.”
Eleanor felt the air leave her lungs for a moment, but she refused to show it.
“Lord Marbury.”
She moved slightly closer to Sophie. Julian noticed.
“I trust I am not intruding upon your afternoon.”
“You are.”
The answer was too direct for the polite surroundings, but Julian’s smile only widened.
“I had hoped we might speak amicably.”
“There is nothing between us that requires conversation.”
Several people nearby had begun to glance in their direction.
“Then perhaps we might discuss your husband.”
Eleanor felt the old wound open beneath his words.
“You have no right.”
“On the contrary, I have every right to be curious about the man who has sacrificed so much for you. He has always been a man of duty.”
Julian glanced around before looking back at her. Eleanor knew where the conversation was going. She hated that some part of her still listened.
“Your marriage has been very convenient.”
“I will not discuss it with you.”
“You should, because there are people in Bath who are beginning to wonder whether you trapped him into it. They say he married you because he pitied you.”
The words struck exactly where he intended. Eleanor felt the old fear rise, the same doubt that had haunted her for years. Julian saw the moment it reached her.
“Surely you know what people see. A disgraced widow arrives in Bath with a child and a scandal. Then Gabriel Hartley appears and gives her his name. They say you needed him.”
“Most people need someone at some point.”
“That is not what they say.” He leaned slightly closer. “They say you knew precisely what you were doing.”
The old Eleanor might have lowered her eyes. The woman she had been six months before might have tried to escape the conversation without causing a scene.
She thought of Sophie beside her. She thought of the morning in the solicitor’s chambers when she had refused to allow other people to define her answers. Most of all, she thought of Gabriel telling her that he had loved her for years.
She lifted her chin. “You seem remarkably interested in the opinions of people you claim to despise.”
Julian’s smile thinned. “You are avoiding the point.”
“No. I am refusing to let you make it for me.”
He studied her. “Do you really believe your husband wants the burden of this forever?”
The question hurt, but Eleanor no longer mistook pain for truth.
“You are very determined to tell me what my husband feels.”
“I know enough.”
“You do not. You know what you have been able to learn through rumors and servants. You know nothing of what passes between us.”
He glanced toward Sophie. “You should consider what happens when this is over.”
“I have.”
“And?”
Eleanor met his gaze. “I intend to remain my daughter’s mother.”
Julian’s smile disappeared. “You may find the court less sentimental.”
“I am not asking the court to be sentimental. I am asking it to look at the evidence.”
Several people nearby were openly watching them. Eleanor could feel their attention, but she no longer cared as much as she once had. Julian had wanted her ashamed, wanted her to lower her eyes and allow his words to become the truth simply because he had spoken them with confidence.
She would not give him that.
“You have said what you came to say,” Eleanor told him. “Now I suggest you allow me to continue my afternoon.”
Julian stared at her for a moment before the pleasant mask returned.
“Of course, Mrs. Hartley.” He bowed. “I wish you a pleasant day.”
Eleanor watched him walk away, her body still tense from the encounter. Only when he disappeared into the crowd did she allow herself a slow breath. Her heart was still unsettled. His words had found old wounds and made them ache, but they had not broken her.
Her heart was still beating too quickly from the encounter, but beneath the anger she felt an unexpected steadiness. His words had hurt her, certainly—they had found old wounds and pressed on every insecurity she had carried since returning to Bath, yet he had not succeeded in making her ashamed.
She turned toward Sophie with the intention of suggesting they continue to the lending library.
But Sophie was gone.
For one terrible moment, Eleanor could not understand what she was seeing. The place where her daughter had been standing only moments before was empty. She turned toward the street, her face already changing as she searched the crowd.
“Sophie?”
The name left Eleanor before she could think. She moved through the crowd, searching beneath bonnets and hats, past ladies speaking near the entrance and gentlemen waiting beside their carriages. Then she saw her daughter.
A man Eleanor did not recognize had taken Sophie by the hand.
He was speaking to her with the easy manner of someone who wished to appear harmless, and Sophie was following him without resistance. The man had already brought her beyond the main crowd and toward the street.