Chapter Thirty
Tristan offered his arm to Arabella as he escorted her from the sitting room and into the foyer, where his mother and Miriam were standing. His mother was dressed in a dark purple velvet gown and actually gave Jules and the others a civil smile as they passed, while Miriam was in her usual dark grey and standing on the steps scowling at everyone.
“I shall be right with you, mother.” Tristan gave his mother a forced smile while nodding at the others to go on without him. “Marcus, would you escort Arabella into the dining room? I will be there in a moment,” Tristan turned to Marcus who nodded and offered his arm to Arabella. Arabella hesitated for a moment before nodding and accepting Marcus’s arm, letting him lead her down the corridor towards the small family dining room.
Once everyone had moved further down the corridor, Tristan stepped up to his mother.
“How may I help you, mother?” Tristan asked and saw a smile flit across his mother’s face as she watched his guests move towards the dining room.
“Penelope told me you had guests, but why was I not invited?” The dowager asked softly.
“Because I did not think you would wish to join us, usually you rebuffed my offers or Arabella’s. My friends are not members of the aristocracy; they are simply businessmen. But if you think you can behave civilly towards them, you are welcome to join us,” Tristan said. Tristan was surprised when his mother nodded in acceptance.
“Yes, of course I am a lady after all. I have a question, I know that we have never gotten along and that is my fault, but are you so angry at me that you are sending me away?” His mother frowned. “Miriam said that you are sending me away to Rawlings. Do you despise me so much that you are sending me to that crumbling down hall?”
“I do not despise you, mother, and yes; I am sending you to Rawlings, but not out of spite. I have been in contact with Mr. Thornton, and before Father died, he had written to Mr. Thornton instructing him to sell off the old furniture, with a plan to buy new. He had also instructed Mr. Thornton to make repairs. Father wanted to take you there so that the two of you could repair your marriage. As I respect your taste, I’m sending you to Thornton to oversee the start of the redecorating, and to allow Arabella a chance to make Hastings House her own.” Tristan stated, to his surprise, his mother gave him a week smile. “In a few months, once the fall season has begun you of course can return. If that is acceptable, then you are welcome to join us for dinner.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Tristan. I understand, and I would like to join you and your friends. My mind seems clearer these days, sharper. I know I was cruel to you as a boy, and I’m sorry.” His mother gave him another fleeting smile. “When do you want me to leave?”
Tristan was surprised at his mother’s sudden change of heart and her kind words, and then he remembered what Penelope had told him that she had been diluting his mother’s health tonic. Perhaps the tonic was more insidious than he’d thought.
“Tomorrow, you need not worry about a lack of staff. I have sent funds and directions to Mr. Thornton to hire new maids, footmen, and a cook. The house will soon be fully staffed, now the others are waiting,” Tristan offered his arm to his mother, who took it with a nod.
“Yes, of course. Miriam, you can start packing then, I will not need my evening gowns or formal wear. And lay out my stationery for me, I shall have to send letters to my friends after dinner.” The dowager stated.
“What, you mean to go along with this? You mean to let him send you away? What of your nerves, my lady?” Miriam protested. “And what of me? I don’t wish to go to a rural estate. I refuse to leave.”
“That is your choice, Miriam, if you don’t go with my mother, then you will break your contract and be dismissed. Now, if you will excuse us dinner, is waiting,” Tristan gave Miriam a hard look, then placing his hand over his mother’s where it rested on his arm, he led her down the corridor towards the dining room. The die was cast now; if Miriam was Margaret Lester, then she would surely make a move tonight.
As Tristan escorted his mother down the corridor, he heard Miriam running up the steps and then the slamming of a door.
“I don’t think Miriam is happy about the move,” Tristan quipped and was surprised to see his mother shrug.
“Perhaps, but now that I am feeling better, I have begun to notice that she is rather hard at times, and tries to make me do things I don’t want to do. And she isn’t that good a maid or a companion.” The dowager replied as they stepped into the family dining room together.
“Indeed, mother, I noticed that right away, now let me introduce you to my friends,” Tristan said as his friends turned to face them.
* * * *
Tristan leaned back on the chaise, sipping his wine while he watched his mother, Penelope, Victor, and Jules playing a game of whist together. He didn’t recognize his mother this evening; she was not only pleasant but friendly to not only him and Arabella but also his friends. The mantel clock was chiming ten when the parlor door opened, and Miriam stepped inside.
“My lady, it is late, you must come up now,” Miriam stepped into the room carrying a wine glass filled with a dark liquid. “And you must take your tonic, you haven’t taken any in days, and you are acting, most irrationally. The doctor would be alarmed if he knew this.”
The dowager put down her cards and scowled, “I will come up now as I wish to check the packing, but I don’t wish to take any tonic. I am feeling just fine. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, thank you for the game.”
“A pleasure,” Jules replied as Marcus rose to offer his hand to the dowager to help her up.
“Indeed, a lovely evening, it was a pleasure to meet you,” Victor stated putting down his cards and rising.
Accepting Marcus’s help the dowager rose and waved away Miriam. “I don’t want any.”
“But you must, my lady, now take your tonic.” Miriam insisted holding the glass out to the dowager.
“Well, I’ll take it, been having a hard time falling asleep these days,” Marcus reached for the glass, only to have Miriam jerk it away and then drop it. The glass bounced on the carpet, the dark liquid splashing over Marcus’s polished evening pumps.
“You imbecile, look what you made me do,” Miriam raged her fist twisting into a fearsome scowl.
Tristan rose as beside him Arabella let out a gasp of dismay and set aside the book of poetry she’d been reading aloud aside.
“That is a bit uncalled for, you dropped it.” Marcus stated regarding Miriam coolly.
“Come my lady,” Miriam stated ignoring Marcus to look at the dowager.
“Enough Miriam, I’m coming. Good night everyone,” The dowager gave everyone a nod then headed for the door followed by Miriam who slammed the door shut behind her.
Marcus frowned and pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket, and kneeling, blotted the dark liquid up off the carpet and his shoe, rising, he dropped the handkerchief on the table.
“So that is the infamous Miriam; she is as unpleasant as you described,” Jules stated, staring at the closed door.
“Indeed, she has become much more forceful since I arrived at Hastings House. When I first arrived here after my husband cast me out, she was very quiet and polite to both mother and I. But now that I think about it she was always pouring glasses of her tonic and forcing us to take it. Telling mother to rest, for us both to rest, even if we were not tired. I also caught her on numerous occasions taking mother’s mail. When I would question her actions, she would say that the Doctor wanted Mother to stay calm, that he feared for her health.” Penelope set her cards on the table then rose smoothly. “It wasn’t until Arabella arrived and cautioned me against taking any more tonic that I began to question Miriam’s actions. She was keeping us quiet and under her thumb for far too long. Looking back now. I realize she was controlling both mother and I. I will be glad to see the back of her. Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I promised the boys I would read to them. We are taking turns reading a penny dreadful that Marcus gave them.”
Jules and Victor each gave her a small bow, which Penelope returned with a small smile.
“Lady Penelope would you do me the great honor of accompanying me to Regency park Saturday afternoon, your boys are invited as well of course.” Jules asked.
Penelope blushed, then nodded as she gave Jules a nod. “Yes, that would be very pleasant Mr. Burns. Good night gentlemen.”
“Good night, Penelope,” Tristan gave his sister a nod and a smile as beside him Arabella did the same.
Penelope stepped up to the door, gave everyone a nod, then slipped through the door. Once the door had shut behind Penelope, Tristan turned to the others.
“Marcus, if you would,” Tristan jerked his head towards the door. Marcus quietly stepped to the parlor door, opening it; he peered into the foyer, spotting Buttons, who was sitting in a chair against the opposite wall. Buttons was nodding off in his chair and didn’t notice Marcus at first. When he did, Marcus lifted his finger to his lips, then jerked his head towards the upper floor.
Buttons seemed to understand and nodded, then rose to cross the foyer and climb the steps, as Marcus watched. Upon reaching the upper landing, he looked down the corridor towards where the dowager and Miriam’s rooms were, then nodded as if saying no one was about. Marcus gave Buttons a nod of thanks, then stepped back into the parlor.
Marcus shut the door quietly behind him, then turned to look at the others. “The foyer is clear, and Buttons is on watch on the upper landing.”
“Excellent, it is time, gentlemen. You should leave now and loudly. Then walk around the block , come up the side lane, and then into the mews that runs along the side of the house. Robert’s will let you in the kitchen garden door and then bring you up the back stairs and put you in a room down from mine and Arabella’s.” Tristan stated.
“Agreed, this is all rather exciting, much better than another boring night at the club playing, chess and discussing the Corn Laws,” Victor said with an almost gleeful expression.
“There is no guarantee that anything will happen tonight,” Jules stated. “But judging from the fact that an attempt was made on Tristan’s life today and the fact that he has given Miriam an ultimatum, then it is indeed highly likely that they might make a try for him tonight.”
“Jules is right, there is no guarantee that anything will happen tonight. I had a private word with Roberts earlier, and he made sure the chamber selected for you has been cleaned and has beds set up.” Tristan added.
“A bed, I was resigned to sleeping on the floor, but a bed is appreciated,” Jules stated.
“What about the boys and Penelope? Will they be safe?” Arabella asked, stepping up to Tristan’s side.
“I will see to the boys. A few nights a week, the boys have me tell them stories about their uncle Tristan’s time in the army; sometimes they fall asleep on my bed. I could make up bedrolls on the floor for them, and have them spend the night in my bed chamber; they would be safe that way.” Marcus offered.
“That is an excellent idea, and I didn’t know that you were telling the boys stories,” Tristan gave his friend a questioning look.
“Yes, well, they wanted to know more about their uncle and what he did for England. Besides, they are good boys and just looking for a father figure.” Marcus replied.
“Thank you all the same, now we shall walk Jules and Victor to the door and loudly say good bye, then we shall retire to our rooms and wait. Does everyone understand?” Tristan asked, and a moment later, the others all nodded.
“Excellent,” Tristan replied, then stepped up to the parlor door and opened it wide. He stepped out into the foyer and then turned to wait for Arabella. She stepped up to him with a smile, while Marcus crossed to the front door and opened it wide.
“Thank you so much for coming tonight. I look forward to seeing you both again soon,” Tristan said loudly, holding out his hand to shake Victor’s and then Jules’s hand. The men took his hand in turn, each giving it a hearty shake, while Arabella stepped up to take Tristan’s arm and wish the men each a good night.
Marcus made a show of wishing the others goodnight before loudly shutting and then locking the door.
“Right, I’m off upstairs, seeing you both in the morning,” Marcus said, turning to look at Tristan and Arabella.
“Yes, us too,” Tristan replied, “See you in the morning,”
With a subtle wink, Marcus walked past them to then stomp loudly up the steps to the second floor. Tristan tried not to laugh at Marcus‘s loud stomping. He turned to Arabella with a smile.
“Ready for bed, my love?” Tristan asked.
“Oh yes, it was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?” Arabella replied, taking Tristan’s arm and letting him lead her towards the stairs.
“Yes, it was, dinner was excellent as usual,” Tristan gave Arabella a smile earning, a smile in return.
“Thank you, I will let Cook know,” Arabella replied as they reached the second-floor landing.
“Good night, Buttons, could you please lock up below and be sure all the lamps are out?” Tristan said loudly, glancing from Buttons towards his mother’s room and back.
“Yes, very good, sir,” Buttons replied in an equally loud voice, a conspiratorial smile on his face. Tristan had pulled Buttons aside and taken him into his confidence about what was happening.
Tristan escorted Arabella down the corridor, stopping before their chamber he pulled the room key out of his pocket and used it to unlock the door. He pushed the door open wide and stepped inside. followed by Arabella.
The room was dark, lit only by faint light filtering in through the windows. Tristan stepped up to the table before the window, and using the flint and tinder there lit the oil lamp. The lamp flared brightly, then Tristan turned it down and set the chimney on top. Once the lamp was lit he walked back to the door and shut it soundly, then locked it.
Stepping back to examine the door, Tristan looked from it to the nearby chair, then stepped up to it and, grabbing the chair, hauled it over to the door to shove it under the doorknob.
“Do you think that is necessary?” Arabella asked softly from behind him.
“I don’t want to take any chances, especially not with your safety,” Tristan replied, turning to slip his arms about Arabella and pull her against his chest. “Where is the pistol Marcus gave you?”
“Under my pillow,” Arabella replied, looking up at Tristan in the dim light. “And yours?”
“I gave mine to Robert’s; I will be fine without it. Now, do you want me to help you undress or shall I fetch Mia?” Tristan asked, placing a soft kiss on Arabella’s forehead.
“I gave her the night off; you shall have to help me undress,” Arabella replied with a saucy smile.
“Mm, a wonderful idea, I don’t mind being your lady’s maid at all,” Tristan replied and reached up to begin taking the pins out of Arabella’s bright hair.
“And I shall be your valet, though I think it shall be easier to rid you of your clothes than mine.” Arabella teased as she reached up to begin undoing Tristan’s neat cravat.
“Mm, that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Tristan replied, bending to steal a kiss. Whatever happened that night or in the days that were to come, all that mattered was Arabella and keeping her safe.
* * * *
Tristan was just drifting off to sleep when he heard the doorknob of his room rattle as if someone was trying to get into the room. After a few minutes, the rattling stopped as Tristan pushed himself up to watch the door.
Someone was trying to get into the room, and he was glad that he had pushed the chair beneath the handle. Turning to Arabella, he placed his hand over her mouth while he pressed his mouth close to her ear.
“Bella, Bella, don’t make a sound, but I need you to wake up, someone is trying to get into the room,” Tristan whispered. He felt her stiffen under his hand, then nod. In the dim light filtering around the curtain, he could see her nod. “Get out of bed, put on your wrapper and get your pistol. I’m going to open the door and see who is there, nod if you understand?”
Arabella felt a frisson of fear go through her, but she nodded, and Tristan’s hand came away from her mouth. Tristan eased out of the bed glad, he’d worn his loose breeches to bed again. Looking over to see Arabella was out of bed and slipping into her wrapper, he padded silently over to the door. Giving Arabella a nod as if to say be ready, he silently moved the chair away from the door.
Tristan checked to be sure Arabella was ready one last time, then turned the lock and opened the door an inch as silently as possible. Peering into the dim corridor, he could see two dark figures, a man and a woman in dark clothes who were trying to get into his office.
“The papers have to be in here; they can’t have been so foolish as to sell off the trunks without going through them first,” The man said.
“Stop talking and open the door,” The woman hissed. From the sound of the voice, it was obviously Miriam.
“Don’t tell me what to do; you were the one who was to watch over the trunks”, the man retorted acridly.
“And how was I to watch over them when I wasn’t in the house. And you are the one who hid the papers in the attic,” Miriam protested.
“Be quiet, the bastard changed all the locks, so I will have to try and pick the lock,” The man hissed.
“We should just break down his bed chamber door and put a pistol to his head and demand he hand over the keys and the papers,” Miriam snarled.
Tristan didn’t like what he’d heard, nor did he want Miriam and this strange man running amok in the house. He slid his hand over to where he placed the fire poker from the stove, and closed his hand over it, then armed with the poker, stepped into the dark corridor.
“I would really prefer neither happened. It’s Mr. Keene isn’t it, or should I say Lester. You are actually Ebenezer Lester, aren’t you?” Tristan stated evenly, as he lifted the poker before him like a sword.
Miriam and Ebenezer spun as one to face him. In the dim light cast by a lamp from the end of the hall, Tristan could see the surprise on their faces.
“You, you hand over the keys and tell us where the papers are,” Ebenezer snarled, pulling a small pistol from his jacket pocket and waving it at Tristan.
“I don’t think so, and what do you intend to do shoot me and have the entire house show up? I don’t think you have enough bullets to kill everyone, nor would you be able to get away with it. Now put down the gun.” Tristan replied, stepping further into the corridor.
Ebenezer seemed to waver for a heartbeat as the barrel of the pistol dipped for a moment.
“Just shoot him, then we can grab the red-haired bitch and continue with the plan,” Miriam shouted.
Tristan heard a footstep behind him and threw himself sideways as a loud bang sounded behind him. As he hit the carpeted floor hard, something whizzed past his head to bury into the wall where he’d been standing, and plaster fell on him. Tristan rolled sideways and smashed out with the fire poker, catching Ebenezer in the legs.
Ebenezer let out a shriek and toppled to the floor, dropping the pistol as he did. Tristan crawled forward and pushed himself up as Arabella stepped into the hall behind him. He eyed Ebenezer’s dropped pistol; it was too far away for him to go for without risking being shot, and he had an unknown attacker behind him and Arabella to think of.
Arabella stepped from the bed chamber in time to see Mortimer fire at Tristan. Gasping in shock, Arabella pointed her pocket pistol at Mortimer as he advanced on her. Arabella’s heart skipped a beat. What was she to do? Arabella in her brief glance had seen Miriam with a pistol and Tristan on the floor.
“Stay back,” Arabella warned as she heard the door open at the end of the corridor and knew reinforcements were coming; she just needed to buy time till Marcus and Jules arrived.
“Come here, Arabella,” Mortimer sneered and lunged for her.
Gasping, Arabella fired as she heard Marcus shout her and Tristan’s name. The second shot seemed even louder than the first as the bullet hit Mortimer high in the left shoulder and knocked him backwards to crash into the wall behind him. He slid down the wall grasping his shoulder a surprised look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe Arabella had shot him.
Tristan pushed to his feet as he heard Arabella warn someone to stay back and then fire, the shot deafening in the confined corridor. Tristan, still holding onto the fire poker, turned to check on Arabella as Marcus, Jules, and Victor appeared in the corridor behind him, closely followed by Roberts holding a lantern. Lying on the floor a few feet from Arabella was Mortimer, a dark stain spreading across his shoulder and chest as he lay against the wall whimpering. Tristan turned back to see Ebenezer writhing on the floor, and holding his left shin, which was bleeding freely. Apparently he had caught Ebenezer with the hook on the tip, leaving a nasty gash. Miriam, with a hiss of rage lunged forward to grab Ebenezer’s dropped pistol, holding it with both hands as the others stopped a few feet away.
“Stay back, all of you. Get up, Eb it isn’t that bad,” Miriam sneered, glancing quickly down at her brother.
“It hurts,” Ebenezer whined as he crawled to the wall and then used it to help himself up. Once standing, he stood there shaking and looking from Miriam to the others and back.
“So what are you planning to do, shoot us all? You only have one bullet?” Marcus quipped, stepping past the others to glare at Miriam. Disregarding Miriam and Ebenezer, Jules knelt beside Mortimer to check his wound. Mortimer was whimpering like a child, mumbling curses and rocking back and forth while shooting Jules hateful looks.
“Put the pistol down, miss, I’ve never shot a woman before, but I will if I have to,” Roberts said, stepping forward so that he was before the others. While at the end of the hall, Penelope and the dowager stepped into the hall dressed in their nightgowns and wrappers.
“No, no, this isn’t how it is supposed to go, we were to grab the papers and kill you and go,” Miriam protested, while she pointed the pistol first at Marcus and then Tristan as if unsure who to shoot.
“Lower the pistol you have nowhere to go and even if you did manage to flee the authorities know that you are involved in the murder of my family.” Tristan turned from Arabella to Miriam. Arabella was obviously shaken but unharmed, which was a relief. He would have to comfort her later; it was traumatic and life-changing to shoot another person, Tristan knew from personal experience. But comforting would have to wait for now.
“Do it Miriam you have nowhere to go,” Arabella said loudly. She was shaken by what she’d done but grateful that Tristan was unharmed. She peered around Tristan’s back to look at Miriam, seeing a frightened woman now and not an enemy, not the vicious woman she knew. “This was your mother and brother’s plan, wasn’t it? They talked you into doing this, maybe even forced you to. As a woman, I understand we often don’t have any choices in our lives, but if you shoot one of us you will only make things worse for yourself. Now put the pistol down, you have no place to go and no hope of succeeding.”
“Don’t listen to her, shoot lord Tristan; once he is dead, Mortimer will be the heir to everything. Do it for mother,” Ebenezer wheezed as he pushed himself off the wall.
Tristan had had enough of being threatened; he flicked the poker up, catching Miriam’s hands and forcing them and the pistol up. The pistol went off as she cried out and dropped the pistol where it pounced on the carpeted floor. Tristan darted forward to grab the pistol as Buttons and three of the footmen came charging down the corridor. Tristan recognized two of the men as Jules’s men from Scotland Yard.
Jules turned to nod to two of the men, “Jasper, Higgins, take the three of them downstairs.”
“Where, sir?” Jasper, the tallest of the three men, asked, bending to grab the still moaning Mortimer.
“Take them to the second parlor downstairs; it has a few chairs in, but nothing they can use as a weapon,” Tristan ordered.
“Yes, sir,” The men grabbed Mortimer under the arms and dragged him to his feet, while Jules stepped up to Ebenezer and pointed his pistol at him.
“You downstairs now,” Jules prompted, glaring at Ebenezer.
“I’m injured, I can’t possibly walk down the stairs,” Ebenezer protested as he leaned on the wall favoring his injured leg,
“You can either walk on your own, or I can drag you down the steps,” Marcus retorted, folding his arms before his chest and fixing Ebenezer with a glare.
Mumbling curses, Ebenezer pushed away from the wall and limped past the others while Mortimer was half-carried, half-dragged down the stairs.
“Come, Miriam, you can either walk down the stairs on your own or be carried,” Jules stated, motioning at her with his pistol. After a moment she laid down the pistol and stepped away from it.
“Fine, I am going,” Miriam stormed past Tristan and the others. pausing at the top of the stairs to glare at Penelope and Dowager. “I’m glad this is over, if for no other reason than I will no longer have to deal with you and your constant harping and complaints. I don’t know why the tonic stopped working, only that it did. If I’d had my way, I would have simply poisoned you and been done with it.” With a snort, Miriam stomped down the steps, followed by Jules who was now brandishing her discarded pistol as well as his own.
“What is going on? I heard two loud bangs?” The dowager demanded as she approached Tristan and the others, her hands pressed to her chest where they held her wrapper shut.
Tristan stepped past the others and gave his mother and Penelope what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I will explain it all in the morning; everything is all right now. Go back to your rooms.”
“But I demand to know what is going on,” The dowager protested, fixing Tristan with a frosty, imperious glare.
“Miriam and Mr. Keene are the children of Katherine Lester. They poisoned your husband and sons and were trying to kill Tristan. I strongly suggest you return to your chamber, my lady,” Marcus stated, giving the dowager an even look. The dowager stepped back, going pale as the reality of what Marcus had said sank in. Penelope stepped up to her and slipped an arm about her shoulders.
“Come back to bed, mother, there is nothing for us to do. Tristan will explain everything in the morning,” Penelope stated as she began to turn her mother about.
“Very well, but I’m not pleased, not at all, and I want answers.” The dowager protested.
“Are the boys all right?” Tristan asked, noting that Seamus and Sebastian were not in the corridor.
“They are in my chamber. When I heard the first shot, I told them to stay in my chamber and not to leave till their mother, you, or I came for them.” Marcus replied.
“Thank you, Marcus,” Penelope said, giving him a grateful smile over her shoulder, before ushering her mother away.
“Buttons, as quietly as you can, wake Davis, Mitchel, and Jimmy, and quietly check on the other servants. I believe someone is watching the house, and I don’t want to give any clue that Miriam and her brothers have been taken. Once they are awake, have water boiled, and then bring it, soap, and clean cloth to the second parlor. Also, check the house, be sure that we don’t have any other unwanted visitors, and I want to know how they got in.” Tristan ordered.
“Yes, my lord,” Buttons nodded and moved towards the stairs at a rapid pace.
“Roberts, can you go see to the injured? Make them comfortable, until their injuries can be seen to?” Tristan directed.
“Of course, sir,” Roberts replied, and with a nod hurried down the stairs.
“Let’s change, and then meet downstairs, and Marcus, Victor, thank you,” Tristan said, seeing Victor shrug.
“I didn’t do much, but you are welcome,” Victor replied. “I’ll meet you downstairs after I’m dressed. I’m rather eager to hear what they have to say.”
“I need to treat Mortimer’s injuries; if he dies, I will never forgive myself,” Arabella said.
“That is fine, but Marcus helps you, I don’t trust that man, wounded or not.” Tristan stated, reaching down to catch Arabella’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Agreed, I need to dress,” Arabella replied, looking down at her wrapper.
“Me as well, I can’t question anyone in my breeches, nor can you,” Tristan gave Marcus a pointed look, reminding him he was also only in a pair of breeches. “We will see you downstairs in five minutes, and Marcus, bring your medicine box. I want Mortimer to live long enough to answer my questions and face prosecution.”
“Agreed, and Arabella, you did well. If you hadn’t shot Mortimer, he would have grabbed your pistol and could have shot either you or Tristan.” Marcus gave her a nod, then turned to walk quickly down the corridor to his chamber.
“Come along, Bella,” Tristan squeezed Arabella’s hand again, then turned to gently tug her back into their bed chamber. Closing the door behind her, he pulled her against his chest and gave her a long hard hug. A moment later, her arms came up to slip about his waist as she pressed against his chest.
“I was so frightened; I saw you on the floor and was afraid you were hurt. Then he came at me, and I just pulled the trigger,” Arabella couldn’t believe that she’d actually shot Mortimer, that she’d resorted to violence to stop him. As a healer, it went against everything she believed in to harm another person. “What have I done? I’m a healer, I help people, not harm them.”
“Don’t punish yourself for acting to protect yourself or those you care for. Marcus is correct; had you not acted, Mortimer would have grabbed you, and lord knows what he might have done to you.” Tristan slid his hand down to gently tilt up Arabella’s face. “Now we will dress, and I will help you treat his wound. And do not blame yourself, you did what you had to and acted with bravery, never blame yourself again.”
Arabella nodded, knowing Tristan was correct, but her conscience still weighed heavily; she just prayed Mortimer was not badly injured or died, because she’d never forgive herself.
“Yes, you are right, let us hurry, we should not keep Jules waiting,” Arabella replied. She reluctantly pushed out of Tristan’s arms and turned to light the lamp.
As the light flared, illuminating the dark room, Tristan turned to Arabella, “I know you are upset, but remember this, we have won. Soon this nightmare will be over and we can finally move on, and hold this in your mind, it was him or you.”
Arabella nodded. She knew Tristan was correct, but what she’d done still weighed on her conscience. She would have to do her best to make sure Mortimer didn’t die, or she’d never get over what she’d done.
* * * *
With Marcus’s help, Arabella had treated Mortimer’s wound, which was not as bad as she’d feared. The small caliber bullet had hit Mortimer in the upper arm, and not the shoulder as Arabella had thought. While messy, the wound was not life-threatening. With some prompting and the promise of a good word with the judge, Miriam had divulged that her mother and Dr. Fletcher, who was her husband, had been waiting in a carriage across the park for the signal that Tristan was dead. Jules and his men had given the signal, a green shaded lamp in the window of the parlor and they just had to wait at the front door for them to arrive. Mrs. Lester had been rather vocal in her displeasure at being dragged into the house and arrested by Jules and his men. They had expected to walk triumphantly into the house and not be arrested.
Buttons and the footmen had discovered Mia and Mr. Cayden bound, gagged, and locked in the pantry. Apparently, they had gone to have a late-night cup of tea and encountered Miriam letting Ebenezer and Mortimer into the house. Miriam had struck Mr. Cayden with a rolling pin before forcing Mia to tie him up and then forcing them both into the pantry at knife point. Wedges had been shoved under Cook’s door as well as those of the maids, making it impossible for them to leave their rooms. Apparently, the plan was to recover the papers taken from the attic as they contained the lists of accounts and the banks they were held, in and then have Ebenezer and Mortimer murder Tristan in his sleep and abduct Arabella. Miriam had been very forthcoming with details in exchange for a good word with the Judge. Miriam had loudly protested the fact that she’d been forced to serve as Lady Sizemore’s maid for months, while her mother and Mortimer had lived a life of comparative ease.
Now the whole family was tied to chairs in the second sitting room and glaring daggers at Tristan, Jules and Arabella. Mortimer, Miriam and Ebenezer were along one wall, while Mrs. Lester and Dr. Fletcher were seated before the side wall. Victor and Arabella were seated at the back of the room before a table, each with a pad of paper and a pencil, and tasked with the duty of writing down everything that was said.
“Now that you are all here, we shall begin. If you answer my questions truthfully, it will go better for you. Otherwise, you are all facing the noose. If you cooperate, I will put in a good word with the judge, and you might be transported instead. Your choice now, who wants to go first?” Jules demanded.
“This is preposterous. Untie me at once, I’m a lady, and I have done nothing wrong.” Katherine sputtered as she tried to pull her hands free of the ropes that bound her to the heavy wooden chair
“Ladies don’t usually commit murder, or encourage others to, nor do they hire men to murder people,” Jules quipped. “Now again, who wants to start? I’m told confessing your sins is good for your soul?”
“Release me at once, this is an outrage. I am a lady and cousin to Lady Arabella. I shall have your position for this,” Katherine raged.
“You are no relation to me,” Arabella protested, outraged to be linked to this mad woman in any context.
Tristan nodded in agreement; he, too, was outraged by Katherine’s actions and her claims.
“I will start, and you can either say yeah or nah, all right?” Tristan pushed away from the wall as he pondered everything that he’d learned over the past weeks. “To begin, Mrs. Lester, you were expecting to marry either my father or my uncle Howard, but that fell through, and you were humiliated and had to leave London. But that didn’t sit well with you, did it? You wanted this house back, and you wanted your revenge. You met Mr. Fletcher here, either on your own or through Miriam, while you were living in Bristol.”
“It is Doctor Wade Fletcher,” The tall, dark-haired man snapped, glaring at Tristan.
Tristan shook his head, “No, it isn’t. Mr. Burns and his men spent a great deal of time looking into your past and you never graduated from any university as a doctor. You are pretending to be both an apothecary and a doctor so you can worm your way into people’s lives, steal their money, and poison them. Now you met Miriam and Mrs. Lester, and either together or at Mrs. Lester’s behest, poisoned Mr. Lester as he was in your way.”
Tristan saw Dr. Fletcher blanch and then look away, and he knew he was correct.
“What, that is preposterous,” Mortimer snapped and looked over at his mother. “Tell him it is all a lie, you would never murder father?”
“Be quiet, Mortimer. I did it all for you. You were meant to be Lord Sizemore, and I Lady Sizemore; we would have been if not for both Blake and Howard refusing to marry me.” Katherine hissed. “One of them should have married me; I was promised to a Sizemore, and I want my due.”
“But Uncle Howard didn’t love you. He never loved you. He was kind to you as he felt sorry for you, but he was betrothed to Amelia and loved her. And as for my father, he was a selfish bastard at times, but I learned he’d made no promises to you. Yes, there had been an understanding between his father and yours but nothing more. My grandfather saved your family from ruin; he paid off your father’s debts and gave you a house to live in. But you wanted more; you wanted to be a lady, Lady Sizemore in fact. You could have married anyone as you were popular but you wanted a Sizemore, and when you failed to marry one, you set about your plan for revenge.” Tristan skewered Katherine with a glare and saw her look away.
“I’m right, aren’t I. So the years passed, and you wormed your way into Uncle Howard’s life, visiting often and overstaying your welcome. Arabella told me about how you and Mortimer would arrive uninvited and overstay your welcome, that you became so annoying that Aunt Amelia would have to tell the servants to say you weren’t at home just to avoid you both.” Tristan shook his head. “It was you that recommended Mr. Simmons as uncle’s estate manager, and it was probably through him that you began poisoning my uncle. For you did poison him, didn’t you, didn’t you? Arabella told me he’d been getting better, but suddenly he took a turn for the worse and died. Arabella is a gifted healer, and after years of care Uncle Howard was on the mend, getting stronger, but you can’t have that, so you killed him.”
Mrs. Lester turned bright red, and then she leveled her gaze at Tristan as something cold and dark filled her eyes. “Yes, I did, it was easy to do, he loved his scotch, all I had to do was slip some arsenic in whenever I came for a visit. But it was his fault; I’d waited years for him, years for him to marry me.” Katherine snarled. “He laughed in my face when I suggested it, said we were both too old.”
“But he loved Amelia, and you were married.” Arabella protested.
“Indeed, but I got rid of both my worthless husband and Amelia. The children weren’t supposed to be with Amelia; it was just her that was supposed to die, but the plan all went wrong.” Katherine retorted with a shrug.
“What do you mean it went wrong, Mrs. Lester?” Jules asked, stepping away from the wall. “Tell us the truth, it is past time for secrets, transportation, or hanging your choice?”
Katherine turned to glare at Ebenezer, “It was all his fault; the men he hired were incompetent. I wanted the wheel of her carriage to break and for the carriage to tip and her to die, but they couldn’t even do that right. Amelia was to die and then Howard was to have turned to me. I would be there to comfort him, it would make sense for us to wed, I was a widow, and he was a widower. But it all went wrong, and she was there with her mother, giving him comfort, taking care of him when it should have been me.” Katherine glared at Arabella with a look so hateful it was a wonder Arabella didn’t combust in flames.
“You can’t blame me for that; the men did what you wanted and damaged the wheel. I had no control over when the wheel broke, who was in the carriage, or the fact that there was a storm. And I refuse to hang for you, you made me do it.” Ebenezer shouted back.
“Be quiet, Eb,” Miriam snapped, glaring at her brother.
“Fine, for now, but I’m not going to hang for you mother. This plan was hers and hers alone.” Ebenezer replied.
“You were always weak, Ebenezer, just like your father, and just as useless. I rue the day you were ever born,” Katherine sneered, making Ebenezer blanche and squirm in his chair.
Tristan watched the interchange with interest; he almost felt bad for Ebenezer. He knew what it was like to have a mean and domineering mother. “I shall continue, so when the plan to marry Uncle Howard and murder his family went wrong, you changed your plan, and you began to get rid of my family. In the hope that Mortimer would be made Lord Sizemore? It never would have happened, Mortimer isn’t a blood relation. The crown would have given the title and the lands to someone else; you murdered my entire family for nothing.” Tristan snapped, not believing what he heard.
Katherine shook her head violently, “No, no, we had it all planned. You were never to return to England; Ebenezer made sure that all your correspondence was burned. Wade had already begun taking your place about town; he is tall and dark-haired, and Miriam was a convincing Penelope. Soon, everyone would believe that Wade was you, and then he would openly court and marry Miriam, your mother’s poor, lonely companion. And I could move back into the house, this house.”
“And what of Arabella and Mortimer? Why was he pursuing her?” Tristan demanded, looking from Mortimer to Arabella and back. “What did he hope to gain by marrying her?’
“Sir Howard was believed to have left her Avondale. I would marry her, and Avondale would be mine,” Mortimer turned to leer at Arabella with a look so lewd that it was all Tristan could do not to beat the smile off his face.
“I would wipe that look off your face, or I’ll do it for you. She is my friend and my best friend’s wife.” Marcus stated, moving forward to glare at Mortimer. Tristan gave Marcus a grateful look, then turned back to Mortimer.
“So Wade went about London impersonating Lord Tristan and meeting with his father’s solicitors to take the funds that rightly should be his. In addition, you set about destroying the reputation of Lord Sizemore, Lord Allister, and Lord Richard. May I ask why?” Jules inquired, skewering Dr. Fletcher with a piercing look.
“Because if they were discredited, the ton would look the other way and not question when Wade, as Sir Tristan, moved into Hasting’s House and married Miriam. They would not care when Lady Sizemore died from too much drink, or Lady Penelope simply disappeared.” Katherine shrugged, looking very smug. “Lady Penelope was known to be separated from her husband, who was a rake and a gambler; no one would question her absence. They would think she ran off or her husband murdered her.”
“I admire your planning, Mrs. Lester, clever but despicable. But why did you have Ebenezer embezzle funds from the Sizemores, by all accounts your husband left you well off?” Jules asked.
“Because his family was suspicious of his death, they thought I’d poisoned him. I could not spend my inheritance without drawing more suspicion and I needed funds to support my stay here in London and to pay off the men working for me. Besides, it was owed to me. I was to have been Lady Sizemore.” Kathrine replied.
Arabella had sat quietly to the side, writing down what she’d heard, but she couldn’t stay quiet any longer. What she heard was monstrous; the conceit of Katherine Lester was beyond belief. She surged to her feet and stepped forward her hands clenched at her sides to prevent herself from doing harm to Catherine.
“You are a liar and deluded. Yes, you had expectations of a marriage, and that fell through, but many women have suffered such disappointments, and none of them went on murderous rampages. Your conceit is beyond belief; you killed innocent men because you wanted to have a title? What did Tristan’s brothers ever do to you? What did Amelia or her children do to you?” Arabella raged. “The children suffered horribly, as did Amelia. My mother died because she was trying to help them.”
“No, I was owed. I loved both Blake and Howard, loved them all my life. I had expectations, but they both abandoned me, cast me aside. My parents were humiliated after I failed to secure one of them. Even my brother was humiliated and forced to leave England, I am owed.” Katherine snarled.
“Well, I have heard enough for now. She’s mad as a hatter and evil as the devil.” Jules shook his head. “Gentlemen take her away, take them all away. I shall finish my questions after they all spend a day or so in a cell,”
“No, no you can’t do this, I’m a lady.” Katherine raged as Jules’ men moved forward to untie her and then place shackles on her wrists. “Take your hands off me.”
“Mother, do something,” Miriam hissed as she was dragged to her feet and shackled to her mother. “You said everything would be fine, that we would not get caught.”
Shaking his head Jules and his men quickly shackled the Lester’s together and then with the help of the footmen escorted them out of the house and into two waiting prison wagons. As the carriages rolled away into the early morning light Jules turned to Tristan.
“I’ll send you an update as soon as I know anything, but the case shall be seen by Judge Arlington and he is known to be rather harsh. Anyway, it’s all over my friend.” Jules gave Tristan’s hand a hearty shake, nodded to Marcus and then climbed into the waiting carriage. As the carriage rolled away Tristan walked back into the house, shutting the door behind him. He saw Buttons in a chair a few feet away, dozing off and smiled ruefully. It was nearly two and he was exhausted himself.
“Buttons, Buttons wake up and go to bed,” Tristan stated, feeling sorry for the old retainer.
Buttons woke with a start and gave him an apologetic look, “Yes, sir, it is a bit late, isn’t it. Is everything settled then? No more break-ins or villains in the shadows?”
Tristan shook his head. “No, all taken care of. Go to bed Buttons, and sleep late, that is an order.”
Buttons rose slowly and gave Tristan a nod, “Thank you, Sir, I think I shall. And sir, I’m glad it is over, and the villains, caught I’d not liked to have lost you as well.”
Tristan watched Buttons walk slowly away and then turned to see Victor, Marcus and Arabella waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, that was all fascinating in a gothic novel sort of way, but I’m off to bed now. I’d like to write about all this with your approval, that is.” Victor said, turning, to the stairs, with a barely stifled yawn.
“I think that would be a capital idea, maybe clear my father and brother’s names,” Tristan replied. “We shall speak more in the morning, and thank you, Victor.”
“You are welcome, though I did very little. Arabella was the one who stopped Mortimer, I’ll have to buy Clara a pocket pistol, too good way to discourage unwanted suitors,” Victor replied as they climbed the steps as a group.
“Thank you all the same, and you too, Marcus. I never would have solved all this without your help and Arabella’s,” Tristan said, giving Marcus and Arabella smiles and nods of thanks.
“You are more than welcome, and it was all rather exciting. I’m off to bed now, and nobody wake me before at least ten,” Marcus stated when they reached the top landing.
“Agreed, come, Bella, bedtime,” Tristan held his hand out to her, and she took it with a smile.
Tristan and Arabella walked the short way to their chamber, grateful for the low-burning lamps. Tristan opened their door and pulled Arabella into their room. Then closed and locked the door behind them. As he turned about, Arabella reached for him, and he stepped up to her, slipping his arms about her to hold her against him.
“It is over, Bella, finally over. We can live now. Get on with our lives.” Tristan whispered against Arabella’s hair.
“There shall be a shocking scandal when it all gets out,” Arabella murmured.
“True, but the little season is almost over. Soon, everyone will flee London for their country estates to avoid the summer heat, and in the fall, when everyone returns, there will be some new scandal for the gossips, and all this will be forgotten.” Tristan replied.
“Truly is the ton that fickle and changeable?” Arabella asked, looking up at Tristan.
“According to Penelope, yes. I was thinking we could go to Rawlings with Mother; bring Penelope, and the boys. We could have a proper holiday. See to the restorations, then after a few weeks, go to Avondale. Check on Elizabeth and her children; be there for all of August. What do you think?” Tristan asked and saw Arabella smile.
“I think that is a wonderful idea, but what of Marcus and your work?” Arabella would happily leave London. While she enjoyed the shops and museums, there were simply too many people for her; she missed trees and clean air.
“Marcus is his own man and can do as he wishes, and as for work, if I am not in London, they have agreed to send me my work. So is that a yes?” Tristan asked and saw Arabella nod.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Arabella replied, and then yawned widely. “Forgive me.”
“No need, it is late, and it has been a very long day. Bed now, and talk in the morning,” Tristan kissed Arabella on the top of her head, then pulled her towards the bed.
“I like the sound of that, I love you, Tristan,” Arabella said as she stripped off her clothing and slipped into bed in her shift, too tired to put on her nightgown.
“I love you too,” Tristan replied as he stripped down to his breeches and then blew out the light. He climbed into the bed and cuddled up to Arabella, slipping his arm about her as he pulled up the blanket. His nightmare was over, and he and Arabella could finally move on with their lives. He looked forward to that with all his heart.