Betrayed Countess (Books We Love Historical Romance) (33 page)

“But how did Miriam leave? If she took a coach, the coachman would know about her departure, would he not? Proving you—”

“That was another mystery. I didn’t care if she crawled all the way to
… wherever. I was just relieved she went. Later I suspected Hollis of providing her transportation.”

“What became of Vida?”

“After spreading lies about the countryside she left for parts unknown. I’m surprised no one’s accused me of her murder as well.” His smile was bitter.

Bettina thought of Kerra’s speculation on that very subject. She leaned over the chair arms and moved her hand to Everett’s shoulder. She massaged his knotted muscles. “This is so dreadful. But where did Miriam go? Did you hear from her again?”

“I always supposed she went to London, the one place that satisfied her vanity. I was so happy to be rid of her, at first I didn’t pay attention to the fact she never sent for her belongings. Of course, thanks to Vida, Trethewy came probing around as if a murder had taken place.” Everett gazed at Bettina, his expression weary. Yet he seemed relieved to finally share this with her. “And the murder became, as you know, local lore that wouldn’t be laid to rest.

“After about two months, I grew puzzled that Miriam hadn’t hired a solicitor to contact me, demanding support. If we didn’t divorce and remained separated, it was to her advantage. She would still be a legal wife, and I’d be expected to maintain her in wifely fashion.” That strange smile curved his lips again. “I was just grateful to be free. But in the meantime, a curious thing happened. Hollis came to me
… oh … three weeks or so after Miriam’s departure, and begged me not to condemn him for the affair. He had obviously spoken to Miriam, or how else would he know I’d discovered them? I hadn’t said a word to anyone except Miriam, and I wasn’t about to tell Clare.”

Bettina frowned. “What about Vida, could she not have told him?”

“I did suspect her, but from what Hollis said, it made more sense to suspect Miriam. Hollis, however, denied having any contact with my esteemed wife since our rude parting, and now promised to be a good and faithful husband to Clare.” Everett laughed, but it sounded jagged, devoid of mirth. “You see, poor Clare was already ill with consumption. She’d suffered so much, and with the child to think of, a scandal would’ve been unbearable for her.” His shoulders slumped. “Hollis swore to be good to her, to see her through. I never trusted the man, but I kept silent about the affair. Clare lived another three years and Hollis seemed to hold to his oath. I had no complaints about his work performance either.”

“I hope it made your sister happy.” Bettina tried to picture this woman she’d never met, and pitied Frederick who’d lost his mother.

“When Clare died, I had been staying in London to aid her through the last of her illness. Hollis was distraught, beside himself with grief, or so it appeared. After the funeral, he asked me to take Frederick until he pulled his life together. He said he would come for him in a month. He seemed sincere, a changed man.” Everett’s tone rippled with sarcasm. “I should have known better, but the grief over losing my sister affected my reasoning.”

“Such a loss would have unnerved anyone.” Bettina stroked her hand down his arm. Frederick’s sweet face drifted before her. “But Hollis never claimed him, did he?”

“He never had any intention of doing so. Then I began to hear about his rampant affairs and sordid activities every time I came to London. Willard Hobart, my business partner who resides in the city, was quite disturbed about the company Hollis kept, since he now rarely showed up for his duties at the office. Hobart reported these details to me, confirming Hollis wasn’t a worthy father for my nephew.” Everett’s words grew angrier, more clipped. “That’s when I decided to dismiss him from the firm and take the boy into my care.”

“I am so glad you did. What did Hollis say to that?”

“I informed him through a solicitor that I’d take charge of Frederick, and Hollis wouldn’t receive any more of Clare’s portion of the inheritance from our father, which I controlled. With his present carousing and debauched behavior, I knew he’d squander everything. I wanted to protect that money for Frederick.” He clenched his fist on his knee. “I must have been mad to think of ever giving that child to such a villain.”

“You did not give him to his father, so forgive yourself.” She grasped his hand again. “Frederick is safe with you.”

“Now I have to locate Hollis. I’ve heard nothing from him since then. I sent off a few letters and made inquiries, but to no avail. He’s disappeared.”

“Have you done anything else to locate your wife?” Bettina didn’t relish the prospect of ever setting eyes on this witch.

“About six months after she left, I hired an Agent of Inquiry to look into her whereabouts. The man discovered nothing. I thought maybe she’d gone abroad, to Paris, a place she always wanted to visit. But there’s more.” Everett sighed. “On my last visit to London, I received a letter from a solicitor at my London offices on Miriam’s behalf. The letter demanded her back and future support, the very contact I’d waited for. She had a right to it, but it shocked me she’d taken this long.”

Bettina stared into his eyes. “Then you do know—”

“Wait. Something about the letter disturbed me. The writing was amateurish, with almost no standard legal terms. Not what you would expect from a learned man of the law. Also the foolscap was plain, with no official letterhead. When I checked on the person’s name, there was no listing for him in any part of London.”

“So you think it is a fraud?”

“I tried to trace the source, but failed. Another letter came right before I set out for Cornwall. This one had a more threatening tone. That’s when I asked Hobart to hire someone to guard the offices at night, to see who delivered these strange letters.

“Knowing the scheming creature I married, she’d have come forward by now to demand whatever money she was entitled to. That’s why I need to close down the manor and travel to London and stay to find out more information.”

“What about Frederick? Will he go to school?” And what about her? Had Everett included her in his plans?

“There are several excellent boarding schools in London. Maybe more structure is what he needs.” Everett couldn’t hide the regret in his face at this decision. “I’m away so much, leaving him with just the housekeeper.”

“The poor child. I had not wanted that to happen.” Bettina sighed. “I pray sending him away to school does not add to his burdens.”

“We all drag around such painful baggage, don’t we? I’ve been reluctant to enjoy a relationship with you because of my bitter experience with Miriam. I guess I was afraid all women were like her beneath the surface.” Everett leaned forward and kissed Bettina on the mouth. “I’ve been embarrassed to tell you all this. To suffer such degradation for so many years, I never wanted to tell anyone.”

“I understand your reticence.” Bettina stroked her fingers over his cheek and jaw, as if to soften the muscles there. The flush she felt inside from the kiss must show on her face. “But I insist that you take me with you to London.”

“Of course, I had planned to include you.”

“I will inquire about my mother.” Excitement bubbled up inside her. She wanted to coat sorrow with hope. She kissed him back. “And I want to help you. We will do this together.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bettina retrieved the heavy necklace her father had given her from under the bed floorboard, slipped it on and tucked it beneath her bodice. With a last glimpse in the looking glass, she admired her new blue velvet traveling outfit
à la redingote. The high-crowned straw hat with blue velvet ribbon matched perfectly. She’d splurged and dipped into her savings to look decent in London. Her few possessions packed in the valise Everett gave her, she straightened her shoulders and departed the tiny chamber.

In the hallway, she opened a storage cupboard and left several coins in a jar as prearranged with Maddie, to continue subsidizing of Dory’s wages. If Everett married her and their relationship became secure, Bettina intended to send more when needed. If he didn’t—she closed her eyes to chase away that possibility.

She carried two packages into the taproom, remembering when she’d first arrived, scared and desperate, thrown into a chaotic life of hard work. Now the idea of leaving the Tregons sisters saddened her.

Old Milt sat at his usual table. He rustled a paper and crossed his bony legs—gnarled twigs in stitched-up stockings. “Your king’s agreed to the new constitution and been given a few duties back. Ha, that won’t last.”

“That is good news,” Bettina said, surprised at the thought she might even miss this old rogue.

“But they’s askin’ for all the French abroad to come home, under threat of death.” He gave Bettina a sly wink in his puckered face.

“You are exaggerating. May I see the paper?”

Old Milt crumpled it to his chest. “Nay. It be mine. My cousin brought it up to me from Newquay.”

“Then keep it, I do not care.” Bettina changed her mind about missing him.

“I didn’t know you could read.” Kerra slopped a tankard down in front of him. “Does the parish know how you squander your poor money on ale? Getting stewed and bein’ rude?”

Bettina handed her one of the packages.

Kerra tore it open and gasped. She held up the ivory hairbrush. “This is the most beautiful thing I ever seen.” Then she glared at Bettina. “How can you leave us?”

Bettina felt tears behind her eyes. “I will come back to visit, I promise.”

“She be back when Camborne deserts her
,” Old Milt cackled.

Kerra rapped him on his bald scalp with the brush and snatched the paper. “Here, Mamsell. I don’t read so well. What do it say.”

Bettina opened The Sherborne, damp with ale. “It says … the rebels ordered the French émigrés to return home by the end of the year, or their properties will be confiscated … and they face a traitor’s death. Mon Dieu.” She knew she had to reach London soon. If her mother was there, she might return home to France before Bettina found her. Would Madame Jonquiere be so foolish?

“That’s what I just said, didn’t I?” Old Milt rubbed his head. He spat in Kerra’s direction. “And you, worthless little sis—”

“Oh, leave off. So full o’ sweetness an’ flummery.” Kerra’s voice was mocking as she wiggled her narrow hips. “Small wonder no one ever married ya.”

“I be married once,” the old man blurted with an unexpected trace of grief in his voice. “An’ she were a better woman than ’ee.”

“Stop this caterwaulin’.” Maddie stalked in with a sack. She plopped it on a table. “This be a place of business. Kerra, you has to take these back. These turnips is half rotten.”

“This is for you, Maddie.” Bettina held out the other package.

Maddie raised her eyebrows, took the package and opened it. She pulled out a green shawl, and smoothed it between her fingers. “This be far too generous.” Her words came out soft, surprised. She wrapped the garment around her shoulders, smiled and kissed Bettina’s cheek. “There always be a place for you here, if you need it. Take care, we’ll miss you terrible.”

“Maddie, the wine seller be here!” Ann stood in the kitchen doorway with her usual snarl. “Off to live in sin, Miss Duchess?”

Bettina smiled into the woman’s sneer. She refused to allow Ann to goad her anymore, though she harbored her own doubts. “I will think of your sweet expression when I do.”

Ann snorted, whirled about and vanished into the kitchen.

Maddie glanced at Bettina with concern. “Make sure he does marry you proper now. I hope love don’t soften your brain.”

“I cannot thank you enough for taking me in, treating me like part of the family.” Bettina’s throat grew tight and she embraced her. “The gray gelding will be stabled at the manor if you need him.” She’d already paid Kerra for her part interest in the horse.

“How am I gonna get on without you?” Kerra rushed over and squeezed her. Bettina hugged Kerra’s scrawny body. This wild girl she’d met on the road had become like a sister.

“This parting, it is too awful.” Bettina pulled back and wiped tears from her eyes. “But it will not be forever, we will return. I love you both.”

Maddie lifted her work-roughened hands and straightened Bettina’s hat in a last motherly gesture. “Now don’t give up your wishes, the shop and all, just for loving some man.”

Bettina smiled, sniffing, her eyes blurred. Maddie had echoed her fears too closely. “I suppose that a woman can have a family and a trade. I would like to try. Adieu for a short time, my sweetest, dearest of friends.” She hated to leave these two special women and had to ignore her qualms over what might lie ahead.

* * * *

Bettina stretched and rubbed the small of her back. The four-day coach ride seemed to have rattled her bones and teeth loose. The buildings they passed became numerous and were crammed closer together as if rudely jostling for space. A few looked about to topple into the road.

“We’re almost there.” Everett sat across from her, his smile warm.

A village lass, found by Everett’s coachman Lew, sat beside Bettina. The girl had a maid’s job waiting for her in London. Bettina had insisted that from now on they needed to follow the expectations of decent society, especially when traveling to a major city, where influential eyes might be upon them. Everett promised to secure Bettina her own maid in town.