Ghost of the Thames (29 page)

“What is the right thing?
Must I find a husband? Marry? How will I know?”

Priya’s dark eyes shone
with confidence when they met hers. “You will know. You will learn.
And you will have the choice in your own hand. Marriage will come
after.”

Sophy became aware of the room. She
looked at the sleeping woman and her gaze drifted to the open door
to her own rooms. More bits and pieces of memory came back to her.
A tapestry she had managed to pack in a certain trunk. The frames
and the miniatures she insisted on bringing with her. Her favorite
books and how too many of them were packed in a certain crate,
making it far too heavy.

There was trepidation in her steps
when she moved into the other rooms. Her luggage was stacked up in
a corner, but none of it had been opened. Sophy thought back to
what she could recall. Opening the trunks, she was amazed that she
was often correct about what was in each one. And other
recollections came to her as she continued to sift through the
contents. How she came to own a certain shawl. A bonnet that she
knew belonged to her mother. An ivory handled parasol, another
favorite passed on to her. A rush of information came to her when
she found miniatures of her parents. She knew them. The faces were
not strangers to her.

Somewhere along the search, curiosity
turned into giddiness. She knew who she was. She recalled her name,
her parents, and the land she’d been so sad to leave behind. The
people.

Her name was Catherine Sophia Warren,
age twenty. Many of the English girls her age snubbed her in
Calcutta because of her relationship with the local people. She
didn’t mind it, at all. But that was why, after her father’s death,
she had to leave. She was not comfortable in the tightly closed
society of the British in Bengal. She didn’t socialize with the
women, and she did not accept their superior attitudes. She
remembered Priya’s words. No protector.

She thought of Edward and how upset
he’d be when he returned tomorrow and found her gone. He would
discover where she was, and Sophy had no doubt that he would come
after her. He was her protector, her champion. Sophy let out a
breath, knowing that regardless of what had happened today, she was
that much closer to having her life settled with her uncle. She was
that much closer to having Edward.

There were voices in the other room.
Sophy jumped to her feet. She’d lost track of time. It was getting
dark. She crossed into Priya’s room and found a bearded man
carrying what looked to be a doctor’s case and getting ready to
leave. A servant was checking the fire and lighting lamps. A table
with a tray of food had been set in a corner, obviously for
Sophy.

“Wait, if you please,” she called
after the man. “How is she?”

“The woman is unwell, I’m
afraid.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She is old.”

“Age is not a disease,” she corrected
him.

The man shrugged and continued toward
the door. Sophy went after him.

“What is being done for
her?”

“She has been given the medication she
needs. Someone will give her more tomorrow.” He opened the door and
went out.

She tried to follow him, but two large
bodies blocked her path.

“Excuse me, miss.” One of the gorillas
reached in and pulled the door shut. Sophy turned to the servant
still working in the room. She was glancing at her
nervously.

“Is Mr. Warren back?” she
asked.

“I don’t know, miss.”

“Then find out and bring the answer to
me,” she said sharply. “And if he is not here, then I should like
to speak with the housekeeper.”

The girl curtsied and hurried to the
door, speaking through it before being allowed out.

Fuming, Sophy strode to Priya’s bed
and picked up a cup from a table beside the bed. It hadn’t been
there before. There were still a few drops of a heavy black liquid
left at the bottom. There was a cloying sweetness to the
smell.

“More of whatever they gave you
before, no doubt,” she said, caressing the gray hair of the
sleeping woman.

Her memory was coming back. She could
remember who she was, but she still couldn’t recall anything of the
night she’d jumped in the river. And she couldn’t recall the
crossing. She gazed down at her dear companion's face.

Of course they would keep Priya
sedated. She possessed the answers Sophy was looking
for.

CHAPTER 35

No pointless civility of afternoon
tea. No informal chitchat at supper. At some point they had to meet
again, but not in such artificial circumstances.

“Better to do it now,” John Warren
murmured to himself.

It was late enough that he could use
fatigue as an excuse to retire anytime the reunion became
unendurable.

“Bring Miss Warren here,” he growled
at his butler. As the man went out, Warren shouted after him,
“Escorted!”

He saw Peter Hodgson edge toward the
door.

“Where are you going?” he
asked.

“Only next door. I assume you would
like privacy for this reunion with your niece before . . . before
she is told of your plans.”

“Not
my
plans, imbecile. Her father’s
plans,” he snapped. “Never forget that. She must be told these were
Arthur’s expressed wishes.”

Hodgson nodded politely and sat down
on the edge of the chair in the corner.

“You are not afraid of her, are
you?”

“No, sir. Of course not. But she was
quite displeased with me this afternoon about the manner in which
we brought her here.”

“Well, she asked for it,
going into hiding for months the way she did.” Warren thought back
over the unpleasant meeting she had this afternoon with the banking
heiress, Miss Burdett-Coutts. The woman was livid at having
Catherine taken from her personal carriage. He had nearly had to
shout her down, reminding her that if there was anyone who should
be angry, it was he for not being told that his niece was alive and
well for all this time. He’d also told her of Arthur’s plans for
his daughter’s marriage, and
that
had shut her up and sent her packing.

“You should know that there are also
rumors,” Hodgson started but hesitated.

“
Rumors of what?” Warren
snapped.

“Your niece was seen in the company of
Captain Seymour on more than a few occasions while she was
supposedly staying with Miss Burdett-Coutts.”

Everywhere he turned, he kept hearing
the name. The man was not even out of the Navy before everyone
started talking about him being destined for Parliament. Warren
never met the son, but he had met the Admiral, his father, some
time back. Arrogant bastard. They all had too much family money.
They could not be persuaded, flattered, or bought.

“Captain Seymour caused the trouble at
the warehouse on the Isle of Dogs. Also, the word is that he is the
one who has been pushing the investigation after the incident in
Hyde Park,” Hodgson continued. “There are rumors that he intends to
propose marriage and that your niece is inclined to
accept.”

“I don’t give a straw
what
his
or
her
intentions are. Her father had other plans for her, and
that’s the end of the discussion.”

The door of the sitting room opened,
and Warren looked up as his niece glided in. He had to give her
credit. Whatever distress she’d gone through this afternoon, she
showed no sign of it. In fact, she looked as regal as the queen
herself. Her beauty so much resembled her mother’s. Of course, all
of that was totally wasted on Hodgson. Not that it
mattered.

“Catherine,” he said, infusing his
words with as much warmth as possible. He leaned on the cane and
pushed himself to his feet. He opened his arms.

She regarded the gesture for a moment
before approaching and allowing him to kiss her cheek. She could
have been a statue made of stone.

“You cannot fathom the fright and the
heartache you’ve caused me these past months. How could you not
communicate with me? Let me know you were well and where you were
situated? Why all the secrecy?”

He sat down and motioned to her do the
same. She glanced disdainfully at Hodgson and took a chair where
her back was to him.

“I was injured when I entered the
river, uncle.”

“That’s the way that friend of yours,
the banker's daughter, explained it.”

“When did you meet Miss
Burdett-Coutts?” she asked, obviously caught off guard by
that.

“The woman came to me this
afternoon.”

“And no one let me know of it?” she
asked, barely able to hide her fury.

“Why should we? She has no connection
with our family. We don’t know what her intentions have been,
keeping you from us all this time.”

“I mentioned before that I was
injured. It took sometime to recover. She has only been a help to
me. And I had every intention of letting you know of my whereabouts
at—”

“Yes, I know. You intended to make a
grand entrance at Lord Beauchamp’s ball. It’s a blessing that no
one can keep secrets these days,” he interrupted. “Well, that is
not the way our family behaves. I am not much of a society hound,
and I prefer this more private reunion. And I suggest you become
more accustomed to this behavior, for you won’t be staying in
London for long. What’s the purpose of making friends among that
lot?”

“I won’t be staying in
London?”

“No, you are sailing for Calcutta
before Christmas.”

“Back to Calcutta? Why?”

“Those were your father’s
instructions, niece. A three months stay in London, a small wedding
ceremony, and a prompt return so that your husband can take over
his responsibilities in India. There is a great deal that has been
neglected this year.”

“He expected me to find a husband in
three months?”

“Oh, no. He had already chosen one for
you. As I said, a person qualified to take over the operation of
the company.”

“My father died suddenly,” she
reminded him. “But this is the first time I am hearing any of
this.”

“Yes, but don’t you think that I, as
the executor of his estate, would be familiar with his
arrangement?” Warren matched her sharp tone.

“I would like to see all of this in
writing. In my father’s handwriting.”

Warren glared at the hotheaded young
woman. Forging documents with Arthur’s name was, of course, no
challenge. He’d been doing it for years. Oddly, though, he was
taking great pleasure of bursting her little fantasy of marrying
Captain Seymour. “You shall. I shall have my lawyers show it to you
before the wedding.”

“Wedding?” she burst out.

“Yes, the banns will be posted
immediately. In three weeks, you will be married and then you and
your husband will be on your way before Christmas.”

He watched the hands fisting in her
lap. The color of her face matched the embers in the hearth. He’d
heard she was spoiled by Arthur, but he hadn’t witnessed her temper
before now. He was glad they were not alone in the room.

“He never mentioned any of this—of any
arranged marriage.”

“Why would he? He expected to live
forever. In that case, he had all the time in the world to allow
you to be involved in choosing a husband.”

“And who is my husband to be?” she
asked through clenched teeth.

“Mr. Peter Hodgson. I know you two
have met.”

She leaped to her feet and whirled on
the other man.

Warren watched his assistant visibly
cower in the chair. After the wedding, any plan for Catherine’s
demise would clearly have to be engineered by Warren himself.
Hodgson was obviously no match for her on any level. To be honest,
he had been questioning, of late, the usefulness of the pitiful
creature. Hodgson was bright enough, but he hadn’t the brass to
continue at his right hand. He needed to feel the lash at all
times. He would certainly not do to be stationed on the other side
of the world. After the wedding, both of them would have to
go.

“I will die before I marry him,” she
finally was able to say before marching out.

Warren waited until the door slammed
shut before he turned to Hodgson.

“Either way, it works.”

CHAPTER 36

She stormed out of the sitting room
and then stopped dead.

The news Sophy had been handed would
certainly be enough to make any free-thinking woman jump off the
deck of a ship. She wondered if some hint of this conversation had
been the motivation for doing just exactly that.

She knew her father
would
never
have
chosen someone like Peter Hodgson for her as a husband. The
sycophantic weasel was everything Arthur Warren despised. People
like him were kept a safe distance away when she’d been in India.
Sophy had been told repeatedly the importance and the purpose of
the education arranged for her. She was raised to be independent
and strong and had been encouraged to surround herself with
whomever she wished, so long as they were respectable. To be
offered that kind of upbringing by her father and then have Hodgson
chosen as a husband?
Never
!