Good Dukes Wear Black (15 page)

“What was the topic of your serious story?” Trent asked, an edge in his voice that told her he did not like her investigation into such dark topics any more than Mr. Carrington had.

“I hadn't started mine yet,” she admitted, feeling somehow disloyal because she'd let Maggie put herself in danger while she stood safely out of the way. “We had agreed that she would write hers first to show Mr. Carrington that it could be done in a way that would appeal to the
Gazette
's existing readers. Then, when he saw that, I would write the next one.”

“So what did her notes say, Ophelia?” Hermione asked, curious.

“They weren't explicit, but it did mention the Hayes Clinic in conjunction with one particular home for unwed mothers run by a Mr. Daniel Swinton, and the words ‘discarded girls,'” Ophelia said. “And I do not believe that was a coincidence.”

“You might have mentioned this before we met with Dr. Hayes,” Trent said, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I could hardly make an accusation based on a few scribbled notes,” she retorted. “And you saw how Dr. Hayes reacted to our questioning. Can you imagine what his response would have been if I'd asked about his clinic in reference to children born out of wedlock?”

“We might have seen if he had any response to the name Swinton,” Trent countered. “If you don't confide in me, Ophelia, I don't see how we will ever find out what happened to Mrs. Grayson.”

She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. He was right, of course. But she was not one who refused to admit when she was wrong. “You're right,” she said with a sigh. “I'm just so used to keeping the details of Maggie's investigation a secret that I didn't tell you.”

“Well, I'm here now,” he said calmly. “And I need to know everything you know if we're to find your friend.”

She nodded. “That is everything, I promise.”

Feeling all eyes in the room on her, she quickly got back to the subject at hand. “So, have any of you heard of the Hayes Clinic? Or an orphanage run by a Daniel Swinton?”

“In fact,” Mainwaring said with a frown, “I have heard of this Daniel Swinton fellow.” He glanced at Freddy and Trent. “You know Lord Knox. Older chap, will talk your ear off if you give him half a chance? Lurks in the reading room at Brooks's in search of innocent victims to sacrifice on the altar of his long-winded sermons?”

Freddy groaned. “He is relentless. I vow, he caught me a few weeks ago and I thought I'd have to fake a fainting spell to get him to let me leave.”

“What did he have to say about Swinton?” Trent pressed, leaning his shoulders back against the mantel.

“Well, he trapped me in much the same way as he had Freddy,” Mainwaring said with a grimace. “And his topic of conversation was Daniel Swinton and how he's successfully reforming the children in his orphanage using some sort of miraculous technique that is able to turn even the most recalcitrant of youths into law-abiding citizens.”

“What is it?” Ophelia asked. “There was something in Maggie's notes about ‘the method' in relation to Swinton, but she didn't give any details of it.”

“From what I remember,” Mainwaring said, wrinkling his brow, “I think it had something to do with immersion in cold water followed by strenuous labor.”

“Sounds delightful,” Leonora said acidly. “Just the thing to make a young prostitute being pimped out by her own mother change her evil ways.”

“I say,” Mainwaring objected with a stern look at their hostess. “That's a bit dark.”

“Don't be priggish, darling,” Hermione said to her husband. “Ophelia and I are quite aware of the horrors that occur every day in the poorer parts of the city.”

“And unfortunately, Leonora is right,” Ophelia said with a sigh. “It's very likely that this method is being used on young prostitutes, given that the topic of Maggie's story was unwed mothers. For what it's worth, she seemed to conclude that there was nothing criminal about the practice.”

“Just heartless,” Trent said grimly. “I wonder how this Swinton would like to be the one enduring the cold baths and hard labor.”

“Like most men of that ilk,” Freddy said dryly, “I can only guess that he would scream bloody murder and claim to have been abused dreadfully.”

“Bullies are much the same wherever you go.” Mainwaring nodded. “Cowards, every last one of them.”

It was difficult for Ophelia to imagine herself trapped in such a place. She only hoped that wherever Maggie was, it wasn't Daniel Swinton's orphanage.

“Speaking of cowards and unwed mothers,” Leonora said, her eyes troubled. “I have recalled just where I had heard of the Hayes Clinic.”

Ophelia didn't miss the comforting arm Freddy slipped around his wife's shoulders. “I don't like the sound of this,” he said, not taking his eyes from her face.

“It's nothing to do with me personally,” Leonora assured him, patting his hand. “But you both remember my cousin Daisy, don't you, Hermione and Ophelia?”

At their nods, she continued. “I'm quite sure she was confined at the Hayes Clinic.”

*   *   *

Ophelia's eyes widened. “Daisy? Wasn't she the one who went on an extended tour of Italy just a couple of years ago?”

Nodding, Leonora continued, “She was. But what wasn't for public consumption at the time was the fact that she first spent several months in the care of Dr. Hayes.”

The room was silent as a tomb while they waited for Leonora to speak.

“Daisy was the sweetest little girl imaginable,” Leonora said with a smile. “I recall her as a sunny-natured child, who loved her dolls and was always ready with a laugh. But something changed when she began to mature. And, not to put too fine a point on it, she became somewhat difficult to manage around the age of sixteen. She was lovely—I mean, so beautiful that it was remarked upon by everyone who met her. And she attracted the notice of men. Many of whom were not eligible in the least.”

A knot formed in Ophelia's stomach. She had a bad feeling about where this story was headed.

“This wasn't a problem when she was in her right mind,” Leonora continued. “But when she was seventeen she suffered a brain fever that left her with a diminished capacity to make sound decisions. All the ineligible young men whom she'd rejected before the fever she suddenly allowed to pay her court. And … other things. And I am quite certain if she'd been a boy no one would have remarked upon it.”

“You are likely correct,” Freddy said with a frown. “There is a frightful double standard when it comes to such things.”

“The worst of it was that every time she became involved with one of these men, no matter what his motives,” Leonora said sadly, “Daisy fancied herself desperately in love. She wanted to marry each and every one of them, but my aunt and uncle refused to give their consent. It was their only means of controlling her. And because she had a handsome dowry that they were convinced the men wanted access to.”

“But what of her reputation?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed. “Surely they would wish her to marry as quickly as possible to save it.”

“They didn't trust any of the men to do right by her once they'd gained her fortune,” Leonora explained.

“So what happened?” Ophelia asked, dreading the answer.

“Aunt Sibyl placed her under the care of Dr. Hayes, who recommended immediate confinement in his clinic,” Leonora continued, “and for a little while at least, it worked. Out of the reach of the fortune hunters, she was able to gain some sense of perspective. Or at least that's what my aunt said. It's hard to know whether it was being out of reach or a change of heart that made the difference in Daisy's behavior.”

“But,” Trent said, his voice grim.

“She wept frequently,” Leonora said sadly. “And her beautiful hair began to fall out. She complained to her mother that the medications they were giving her made her ill. Until finally Aunt Sibyl convinced Uncle Harold that they should remove her from the clinic altogether and take her away to the Continent for treatment.”

“So they took her to Italy,” Ophelia said.

“They did,” Leonora confirmed. “And slowly but surely she began to regain her health. And before long she even met a young man there on holiday, who fell in love with her. Who had a fortune of his own, so my aunt and uncle trusted him. And soon after they married.”

“So Dr. Hayes's treatment made her ill,” Trent said. “As indictments go that's not particularly damning.”

“There is one thing I failed to mention, however,” Leonora said, her mouth tight with anger. “When my cousin and her new husband returned from the Continent, they brought someone with them.”

“Who?” Mainwaring asked, eyes narrowed.

But Ophelia already knew. “A child,” she said softly. “A child that her new husband claimed was his own.”

“Precisely,” Leonora said. “But the timing was all wrong—at least I knew that from my aunt's letters. No one else is aware of it as far as I know.”

“So, you think she was with someone at the Hayes Clinic?” Trent asked. “Or is it worse than that? You think she was raped?”

“I cannot know,” Leonora said with a shake of her head. “The thing is that Daisy was very persuadable. It's why her parents were so concerned about her. She fell in love at the drop of a hat. And I can quite easily imagine her allowing one of those young fortune hunters to make love to her. But she was at the clinic for months without any sign of pregnancy. I know because I visited her there. It had to have happened after she went into the clinic and before she left for Italy. Remember, she complained that the medication was making her ill. It's equally possible she was suffering from morning sickness.”

“Is it possible that someone at the Hayes Clinic is preying on vulnerable patients?” Ophelia asked thoughtfully, her mind teeming with images that made her skin crawl. “And then, what, when the victims become pregnant sending them to Daniel Swinton's home for unwed mothers?”

“It's a possibility, certainly,” Trent agreed. “And a logical reason for Maggie to have both the Hayes Clinic and Swinton in her notes.”

“I should like to speak to Daisy,” Ophelia said to Leonora. “Do you think she would feel comfortable answering some questions? I don't wish to upset her. And I know she's been through a great deal.”

“She'll be at the Kinston ball tonight,” Leonora replied. “She doesn't like to talk about her time in the Hayes Clinic, but I suspect she will wish to help you as much as she's able. I'll see you two are introduced tonight.”

“I promise to be gentle with her,” Ophelia said gratefully. “And discreet. I have no wish to intrude upon her newfound happiness.”

“Don't tell me you mean to attend a ball after the drama of the past couple of days,” Trent said with a frown. “You suffered quite a serious blow to the head yesterday.”

Ophelia frowned at his high-handed tone. Just because they were working together did not mean he had the right to make decisions for her.

“And now I am feeling much better,” she said coolly. “Besides which, my sister is betrothed to the Marquess of Kinston so my mother is expecting me to attend whether I feel up to it or not. And I most certainly do feel up to it.”

He looked as if he would like to say more, but perhaps seeing the mulish set of her jaw, he kept silent.

“I can promise to look after her.” Leonora exchanged a sly look with her husband, who winked. “Unless, of course, you mean to attend too, Trent.”

“He must attend,” Freddy said guilelessly. “For I mean to keep you busy dancing, my dear. You will have no time to watch over Ophelia.”

“I'm sitting right here, you know,” Ophelia said, rolling her eyes. “And I have no need of a keeper. At least not the last time I checked.”

Trent muttered something under his breath, but when she scowled at him, he shrugged as if to say, “Who, me?”

Annoyed with all of them, she stood. “I believe I'll walk home. It is a fair enough afternoon and my house is only a few streets away.”

“Of course I'll take you,” Trent said, looking offended. “As I said, you've had an eventful couple of days. And as I am going in that direction anyway it will be no inconvenience.”

It would serve him right if she refused, Ophelia thought stubbornly. But it was true that she was tired. And if she were going to attend a ball that evening she'd do better to conserve her energy. “Very well,” she said.

“We'll see you there tonight,” Hermione said as she and Leonora ushered their friend into the hallway and toward the front entrance.

*   *   *

Trent made to follow Ophelia, but was stayed by Freddy's hand on his arm.

“What's going on here?” his friend asked with a speaking look in the direction of the departing ladies. “I was unaware that you and Ophelia were more than speaking acquaintances.”

“Certainly not close enough to ride about town together in your curricle for two days in a row,” Mainwaring added, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Don't be daft,” Trent said with a frown. “We are only working together to find her friend because George Grayson is a member of the Lords of Anarchy. Nothing more than that.”

“But it would be easy enough for you to look for Maggie Grayson on your own, surely?” Freddy asked, pinning him with his blue gaze. “Especially considering that you don't know what's in store when you find her. Shouldn't you leave Ophelia to her own devices for safety's sake if nothing else?”

At the suggestion he was endangering Ophelia in some way, Trent stiffened. “Now see here, Lisle,” he said with a voice that sounded threatening even to his own ears. “I am doing my utmost to see that she remains safe. If I were to leave her to her own devices as you so helpfully suggest, then she would be God knows where poking her nose into the devil knows what. That lady is as stubborn as a mule and the only reason she is still safe is because I've ensured that she doesn't take the sort of risks she'd doubtless undertake if she were allowed to go about unchecked.”