Chapter Twenty Four
Arabella looked at the pile of invitations that covered her desk, then over at the ledgers. It had been three days since Tristan had been attacked, and as Victor had predicted, they were rather in demand. Arabella had purchased a fancy date book to write down the events they were invited to in the upcoming weeks. At the moment, she had been invited to eight teas, two book clubs, and a ladies benevolence society meeting. And the three of them had been invited to two musicals and a card night as well as a day at the races.
Arabella had been forced to ask Penelope to help her respond to all the invitations, as she was busy working on the drawings for Vincent and going through the account books with Tristan. Marcus had made an important discovery the day before; he had been searching for a new book to read in the library and discovered two daily diaries that had belonged to the late Mr. Vickers.
Tristan and Arabella had begun to go through the diaries, trying to look for dates that were in both the diaries and the accounting book that they had. Marcus was now splitting his time between the War Department and going through the books in the library, looking for more hidden diaries or any other clues. Marcus would bring dispatches home in the afternoon, and he and Tristan would go over them while Arabella worked on the illustrations.
Arabella stretched, trying to ease her lower back, and heard giggling; she turned around to see that Mia and Penelope were head-to-head as they both worked on altering more gowns.
“And what are you two giggling about?” Arabella asked.
“Mr. Burns asked me to go walking with him tomorrow morning, and I was sent four bouquets of flowers this morning from different gentlemen I met last night at the Rosemond’s musical,” Penelope stated.
“I am happy for you,” Arabella replied. She was genuinely pleased for Penelope. Penelope had been refusing to take Miriam’s tonic, and after a week of headaches and shaking, she was feeling like a new woman.
“Would I be horrible to say I am happy for me too? I want to thank you and Tristan for everything you have done for me, and for putting up with me for so long. I also wanted you to know that yesterday, with Marcus’ help, I contacted a solicitor and hired a man of affairs. They are going to aid me in going through Keyon’s papers and accounts and help me sort it all out, and I sent a deposit to Lester’s school for young men. It is on the outskirts of London. The boys will be starting as day students once the summer is over.” Penelope looked up from what she was sewing and smiled.
“Oh, that is wonderful, Penelope, though you aren’t a nuisance at all. You have been a great help to me settling in.” Arabella replied.
There was a knock on her door, and Tristan stepped inside. “Good morning, ladies.”
Tristan smiled when he saw Arabella; she seemed to get more beautiful every day.
“Good morning, Tristan,” Penelope said, while Mia gave him a polite nod.
“You have visitors, Bella,” Tristan said, stepping forward to kiss Arabella on the cheek. His side pulled a little when he did but it was worth it to kiss his bride.
“Visitors, but we told Buttons not to put out the knocker,” Penelope replied. She thought Tristan looked exceptionally handsome these days. Roberts had been trimming and styling his unruly locks each morning and shaving him. Roberts had also been dressing him every day so that he looked like the lord that he was. Not that Tristan looked bad before with his unruly hair and untied cravats. When they first met, he looked rather rakish, like a pirate from a novel; now he was aristocratic perfection.
“Yes, but Marcus brought these visitors, and I think you have been waiting for them,” Tristan replied with a grin.
“Clara and Edgar are here?” Arabella gasped in delight.
“Indeed, I told them that I would come fetch you.” Tristan held his hand out to Arabella, who took it with a smile.
Arabella turned to look at Penelope, “Would you like to meet Clara? She is a delight?”
“I will come down in a few minutes; you will want to greet your friend alone,” Penelope replied.
“All right, but come down soon, she is a wonderful young woman,” Arabella reached up to pat her hair into place, then followed Tristan out the door of her office.
Tristan was pleased to see that Arabella was so happy. Since the attack, she’d been quiet and worried over him, even though his wounds were nearly healed. Tristan caught Arabella’s small hand in his as they neared the top of the landing. He knew it wasn’t fashionable to display affection in public, but he didn’t care; this was his house, and if he wanted to hold his bride’s hand, he would. As they turned to head down the stairs, the dowager appeared before them. She was dressed in an elegant gown, but her normally neat hair was in disarray and she looked fatigued.
“Once again, we have visitors, and I was not informed. Do you mean to keep me hidden away in my chamber like a prisoner?” She snarled.
Tristan took a deep breath to calm himself and forced a smile, though he wished to tell his mother to get stuffed. “Because the visitors are not here to see you mother, they are here for Arabella and myself. You have been invited to dinner every night but refused to come as you didn’t wish to eat with my friend Mr. Berkley, claiming he is a commoner and a barbarian. Now, to keep the peace, you are welcome to come down in a few minutes and meet our guests, but Arabella wished to greet her friends in private.”
The dowager didn’t respond at first, she just looked stunned but then she nodded.
“Very well, I shall come down shortly” The dowager replied slowly, then she turned to walk away, as she did Tristan saw Miriam at the end of the hall watching them like a lion its prey.
Tristan felt Arabella squeeze his hand. He looked down to see her smile up at him, and then with a nod, they descended the stairs together. Tristan let Arabella step into the front parlor first, where Victor, Edgar, and Clara were waiting. Victor and Edgar were sitting on the settee talking, and Clara was looking out the window at the street when they entered. She turned to see them and broke into a huge smile and then let out a squeal of joy to fly across the room and embrace Arabella.
Arabella was thrilled to see her friend. While she enjoyed Penelope’s company, she missed Elizabeth, and it was good to see a female friend again. After a moment, Arabella broke the hug to step back and admire Clara’s outfit.
“You look amazing,” Arabella said, examining the stylish light pink walking dress and matching bonnet Clara was wearing.
“Come sit, you look wonderful, Clara, and Edgar, you look dashing,” Arabella said, guiding Clara to the second settee while Tristan and Marcus settled into two of the empty chairs.
“Thank you, it is new. We all missed you after you left; there wasn’t anyone to discuss plants with or gardening. Elizabeth is charming and friendly but she isn’t you. And no one can tell a joke like Marcus and Tristan,” Clara said. “I know we have not been friends long, but your friendship has meant so much to Edgar and I.”
“We feel the same,” Arabella said, leaning over to squeeze Clara’s hand.
“After you left, Lucinda and her friends were even worse than before. She couldn’t believe that Tristan married you over her. I won’t repeat what she said, but it was most unkind,” Clara shook her head.
“I can imagine,” Arabella replied. She had never liked Lucinda; the girl had always been cruel and a social climber.
“It became so bad that Edgar and I even stopped going to church. We have just been hiding out in the house or walking in the gardens.” Clara shook her head in dismay.
“Well, Tristan and I are delighted that you are here at last. Victor has been wonderful to us; he is one of the few friendly faces we have seen in London. In fact, we have become dependent on his kindness and generosity to us.” Arabella stated.
“Arabella is exaggerating, of course,” Victor said with a smile, though he looked pleased by the praise.
“She isn’t you have been a good friend to us these past few weeks,” Tristan added.
“Indeed, he has been introducing us to his acquaintances and is going to take us to his club,” Marcus said.
“Oh, capital, you must take me along when you go to the club; last time we were in London, Victor claimed that I was too young to go,” Edgar added.
“And you were, Marcus is teaching me to box, you should join us. Though at the moment all he is doing is having me run around our tennis court and lift bags of sand,” Victor commented.
“It’s called building up your stamina and increasing your wind. If you want to be a good boxer, you need to be able to keep your wind up and have superior upper body strength,” Marcus commented.
“You should listen to Marcus, he was regimental champion in both boxing and wrestling for years,” Tristan stated, “But be careful, he hits like a sledgehammer.”
“Thank you and Tristan is fast, very fast,” Marcus added, giving Tristan a smile.
“Oh, you teach boxing. Could you teach me as well? And Arabella, of course, I will need someone to practice with?” Clara asked, giving Marcus a plaintive look.
Marcus shrugged, “I would be happy to, my father taught all my sisters, but why do you wish to learn if I might ask?”
“Well, it isn’t widely known, but I have a substantial inheritance from my mother’s family. You won’t believe the number of fools who think that if they can compromise me, I will be forced to marry them and turn over all my money to them.” Clara stated with a militant look. “It won’t work, of course, father has a premarital agreement ready that says what is mine is mine, but it doesn’t stop down in their luck fellows from trying to impugn my honor. Father has taught me to use my knee, of course, but I would love to know how to give someone a facer.”
Victor laughed loudly and shook his head, “That is my sister for you. I approve, by the way. She is right about the fortune hunters, too; they buzz around her like flies over a pot of honey in the summertime.”
“You would really teach us to box?” Arabella asked, looking from Tristan to Marcus and back.
“Of course, my father taught all my sisters, too. He believed every woman should know how to defend themselves.” Marcus replied.
“That is very forward thinking of him,” Arabella looked over at Tristan, “And you would not mind Tristan? You would let me learn?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You are your own person, Arabella. If you wish to learn to box, you shall. Besides, I remember us discussing this before,” Tristan replied.
“Then it is settled, starting next week, three mornings a week, we shall have training. But it shall have to be early, as Tristan and I must report to work.” Marcus stated, looking at the others.
“And I must go to my office, but I think it is an excellent idea,” Victor stated, “Our own private boxing club.”
“Oh, splendid, how exciting, I love exercise. But we can’t tell anyone if the ton found out they would think us all hoyden’s,” Clara said, clapping her hands together in obvious delight.
“Agreed, I too shall be glad of the exercise,” Edgar stated. “I am not one for drinking far into the night, gambling away my allowance, and then sleeping to noon.”
“Now, Arabella, before I forget, mother wishes to take you shopping tomorrow morning, her treat, of course.” Clara gave Arabella another smile. “And she said you are not to protest or disagree. Victor showed us the all the drawings that you and Tristan have made for my book, and they are amazing. Mother says that such talent has to be rewarded.”
Arabella blushed deeply, “You are too kind, and I’m sure you are exaggerating.”
“I am not, you are a talented illustrator, Arabella, and Tristan’s landscapes and work with India ink are outstanding. In fact, mother is so taken with some of them that she wishes to know if you would mind if she had them framed. She is redoing the morning room and wishes to display them there,” Clara stated, earning a nod of agreement from Victor.
“As Victor purchased the illustrations, they are his to do with as he wishes. But your praise is very flattering.” Tristan replied. He was indeed flattered by the praise; it was rewarding to know that someone other than his wife admired his work.
“Wonderful, she thought you would say that, but she asked me to check,” Clara replied. “Now, back to the shopping trip, I should warn you that mother loves clothes and shopping. She is constantly disappointed that I prefer sensible gowns and breeches to silks and satins, but considering how much time I spent working in the dirt, they just seem more sensible. She will likely make a fuss over you.”
Arabella was secretly pleased at the idea of being taken shopping, of being pampered. While it was true that Tristan had come into some money of late, they were still economizing till all the debts were settled. Tristan had explained that he wanted to rebuy the land at Rawlings that his father had sold in order to make the estate solvent again. Arabella was about to respond that she was thrilled by the idea when Penelope stepped into the room and gave everyone a shy smile. The men moved to rise, but Penelope shook her head.
“No gentlemen please stay seated. I only wished to say hello to Mr. Victor and to thank him again for taking us to the opera and the pleasure gardens. And of course to meet your siblings,” Penelope said.
“Clara, Edgar, this is my sister Lady Penelope Kenyon,” Tristan nodded towards Penelope. “Penelope, this charming lady is Clara Waterhouse, and this fine gentleman is Edgar Waterhouse,”
“A pleasure, Lady Kenyon,” Edgar gave her a polite nod.
“My lady,” Clara gave her a nod and a smile.
“Penelope, would you like to join us?” Arabella asked, motioning towards one of the empty chairs.
“Oh no, thank you, I promised the boys to take them for a walk in the park before lunch, and they shall be down in a moment,” Penelope replied.
“I am glad you enjoyed the opera and the garden, your company made it the outing all the more enjoyable, Lady Penelope. Perhaps we could all go again soon,” Victor said with a smile.
“That would be nice; I enjoyed the opera greatly, but not the pleasure garden.” Marcus shook his head.
“You did not like the garden, Marcus?” Clara gave him a puzzled look.
“The food was not to my liking, the ham was cut as thin as paper, and the vegetables were overcooked,” Marcus replied while he made a face.
Edgar began to laugh, “Marcus is right, the food is horrible and the lemonade is watered downed.”
“But the gardens are so beautiful; it always reminds me of a fairy land.” Clara protested.
“I will agree it is lovely, but I agree with Marcus, the garden is not to my liking,” Tristan added as he remembered the attack all too well. His side and arm still ached from the attack.”
Before anyone could comment, there was a loud knock on the door that drew everyone’s attention to the foyer.
“How odd, I told Buttons not to put the knocker up,” Arabella stated in irritation. She was enjoying her time with Clara and Edgar and didn’t want any strangers to ruin their reunion.
The knock came again, even louder, then footsteps could be heard and the door opening.
“I demand you let me in,” Came a loud female voice.
“Her ladyship is not receiving at the moment, if you would leave your card,” Buttons could be heard replying.
“I am not a visitor, I am related to Miss Layton, now let me in or you shall be sorry,” The woman shouted.
With a frown of annoyance, Tristan got to his feet and stepped into the foyer, meaning to get rid of whoever the rude and disagreeable woman was. Behind him came Arabella and Marcus, both wearing frowns of annoyance.
Tristan stepped up beside Buttons and glared at the older woman and pudgy, greying, well-dressed older man standing on his doorstep. “I am Earl Sizemore. What business do you have here?”
“I am Mrs. Katherine Lester, and this is Magistrate Charles Whitaker. I am here to claim Arabella Layton and take her back to Wilton.” The woman stated as she gave Tristan a withering look of pure disdain.
“What do you mean, claim Arabella Layton, she is not a forgotten piece of luggage, she is my wife,” Tristan demanded in anger.
“Nonsense, you are an imposter,” Mrs. Lester pushed past Buttons and shoved Tristan hard, then swept into the foyer as is if she owned the house. “Tristan Sizemore is not in England; he is in India, and you are an imposter. You took my son’s betrothed under false pretenses and are living in sin with her. I am here to take her home so that she may marry my son.”
Arabella let out a gasp of protest and drew herself up in outrage. “I am not now, and I never have been betrothed to your son, Mortimer Lester. I refused his request multiple times and before witnesses.”
Tristan was proud of Arabella standing up for herself, and slipped his right arm about her waist in support.
“Nonsense, girl, you are promised to my son, and I mean to see that you wed him, you either come with me now, or I will sue you for breach of promise.” Mrs. Lester huffed.
“You can try, but you will fail. Arabella is legally married to me. It was performed by a clergyman, before witnesses. In addition, it is your word against hers that there was any kind of marriage agreement made; there is nothing in writing that she agreed to wed your son. Also your son attacked me, my friend, and my staff and is wanted for theft? Try to bring her to court, and I will sue you back and drag your son’s name through the court.” Tristan stated.
“Nonsense, it is all nonsense and lies. You are an imposter so your so-called marriage to her is invalid. Magistrate Whitaker arrest him for slander against my son, for being an imposter, and seize Miss Layton.” Mrs. Lester, demanded turning to look at the man beside her.
“Ma’am, I cannot arrest this gentleman until I have heard all the evidence. In addition, the young lady says that there was no agreement with your son. Do you have a way to prove your claim that you are Lord Sizemore, sir?” The magistrate asked.
“Damn, this is ridiculous; you barge into my home and call me an imposter? Then you threaten my wife? You are both lucky I do not call the police,” Tristan grated out, he was struggling to keep his temper and not lay hands on Mrs. Lester and the supposed magistrate with her. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his War Department identification card and held it out to Mr. Whitaker.
Mrs. Lester snatched it from his hand with a scowl. “This is obviously a fake,” Mrs. Lester snapped, she was about to rip it in two when Mr. Whitaker reached over to take it from her. The Magistrate examined the card and paled before handing the card back to Tristan.
“Is there a problem, Lord Sizemore?” Victor asked, stepping up to Tristan and Arabella, but his gaze was focused on Mrs. Lester.
“And you are?” Mr. Whitaker inquired, turning to look at Victor.
“I am Victor Waterhouse, and I can assure you that this gentleman is indeed Lord Tristan Sizemore,” Victor held out his calling card to Mr. Whitaker, who took it with a frown.
“You are a solicitor and a publisher?” Mr. Whitaker asked, looking from the card to Victor and back.
“I am, my father, Mr. Waterhouse, lives in Wilton. He and my mother were both at Lord Sizemore and Lady Arabella’s wedding, as were my siblings,” Victor said, motioning to Clara and Edgar behind him.
“I was also there as Lord Sizemore’s best man, and my father performed the wedding. My father also posted the banns in his church, and the banns were posted in the church in Wilton. And notices of the wedding were sent to all the papers in Bath and London. Everything was done according to the law, Mr. Whitaker.” Marcus stepped forward with his arms crossed across his chest and an expression that would cause most men to tremble in their boots.
“And you are, sir?” Mr. Whitaker demanded.
“Marcus Berkley, longtime friend to Lord Sizemore, retired army, and working with Lord Sizemore at the War Department,” Marcus replied.
“My apologies, everyone, but Mrs. Lester came to me saying that her son’s betrothed had been abducted and was in London. She said that we needed to rescue her.” Mr. Whitaker said, looking apologetic. “She claimed that they were promised to each other and that, in addition, the man who kidnapped her had illegally taken Avondale Hall from her son by impersonating Lord Tristan Sizemore.”
“It is all lies. Avondale Hall was left to me by my uncle, Sir Howard Sizemore. And as she stated, Arabella was never betrothed to her son. If you wish to arrest someone, then arrest her son Mortimer for attacking me and my staff, for stealing from Avondale Hall, and making threats against my wife and myself.” Tristan took a deep breath as he fought to contain his anger; he was tired of having to prove who he was, tired of having to deal with endless fools. If Mrs. Lester were a man, he would have thrown him bodily from the house by now. “Now you have tried my patience long enough, I am asking you to leave before I call for the police.”
“I insist that you arrest him; he is an imposter,” Mrs. Lester raged. “And you must detain her and bring her back to Avondale.”
“What on Earth is going on here?” The dowager’s voice cut through the tension in the foyer. Everyone turned to the steps to see the Dowager standing halfway down the steps, followed by Miriam.
“My lady, come back up the stairs at once, you know your nerves can’t handle any sort of excitement,” Miriam protested, tugging on the dowager’s arm.
Tristan was stunned to hear his mother speak out, but what caught his attention was that Miriam’s eyes were focused on Mrs. Lester, looking at the annoying woman as if she recognized her. The dowager’s gaze was focused on Mrs. Lester, and then she frowned.
“Good heavens, its Catherine Harrison. I haven’t seen you since you fled from London some thirty years ago after trying to seduce my brother-in-law and instead ended up with my husband in a garden and Lady Isabella’s ball.” The dowager shook off Miriam’s hold and stormed down the stairs, head held high, looking like a warrior queen.
“No, no, it can’t be,” Mrs. Lester stammered, taking a step backwards.
“I heard your absurd accusations, Catherine, and I can assure you that this gentleman is my son, and the young woman beside him is his wife. While she is not the girl I would have chosen for him, she is an honorable young woman,” The dowager gave Mrs. Lester a withering look as she came to stand before her.
“But, but he can’t be, Tristan Sizemore is supposed to still be in India,” Mrs. Lester protested.
“I don’t know who told you that, but it is foolishness. And as for your preposterous declaration that your son was to inherit Avondale is laughable. Howard Sizemore adored Tristan and thought of him as his son. And your spurious claim that you own Avondale, or should have inherited Avondale was thrown out of court twice.”
“No, no, it was meant to be mine,” Mrs. Lester stamped her feet like a toddler denied a treat.
“Forgive me, Lord Sizemore, Lady Sizemore. I believed Mrs. Lester’s claims as I have known her for many years, and is thought highly of in my county. Come, Mrs. Lester, it is time to leave,” Mr. Whitaker stated.
“This isn’t over,” Mrs. Lester protested. She gave Tristan a hateful look, then turned to stride out the door in a swish of skirts. Mr. Whitaker paused a moment to bow to Tristan, then hurried out the door after her.
Buttons closed the door forcefully behind them and shut the bolt before turning to give Tristan an aggrieved look. “What a deucedly unpleasant woman. Should I fetch tea, my lord?”
Tristan nodded in agreement and then gave Arabella a hug, not caring who saw, then turned to Buttons.
“Yes, please, and thank you, Buttons, for your patience,” Tristan said.
“Of course, my lord,” Buttons said, then turned to silently walk away.
Tristan looked at his mother in a combination of surprise and gratitude. His mother had never stood up for him before. She had barely even recognized him as her son or spoken to him unless she wanted something. And as for Arabella, she’d been civil to her but never kind, probably because she feared what Tristan would do to her if she’d hurt Bella.
“Thank you, mother, for your help,” Tristan said, giving his mother a polite nod.
His mother shrugged. “There is no need for it. Catherine Harrison was a little social climbing tart and a liar thirty odd years ago and she is obviously still one today. You are the Earl now, and my son and I will not have either you or the earldom defamed. Arabella is also your wife and the new lady Sizemore. I will not stand by and let either you or her be impugned by a lying tart.”
Tristan knew that his mother’s declaration was as close as he was ever going to get to her saying she liked him or cared for him, but he would take what crumbs of kindness she offered to keep peace in his home.
“Would you care to join us for tea, your ladyship?” Arabella asked, offering the dowager a polite smile. The dowager had rarely been anything other than politely curt to her, but she had been taught to be courteous at all times.
Penelope stepped forward to slip her arm around her mother surprising the dowager. “Mother, why don’t you come to the park with the boys and I. You haven’t been outside in some time and you never spend any time with the boys.”
The dowager frowned, looking indecisive for several heartbeats. “Yes, that would be pleasant, but I shall need my bonnet. Miriam, go fetch my bonnet and be quick.”
“No, no, my Lady come back upstairs and rest, think of your nerves,” Miriam protested.
“Nonsense, mother needs sunshine, go fetch her bonnet and then come join us in the park,” Penelope stated, then turned to look up at the upper landing where the boys could plainly be seen looking down at the goings on. “Boys, come here please it is rude to eavesdrop.”
The boys, looking sheepish, bounced down the stairs with youthful energy.
“I am glad you are coming with us, Grandmamma,” Young Seamus stated.
“Yes, yes, very well, but no running about or shouting like wild animals,” The dowager stated.
Tristan watched in confusion as his mother allowed Penelope to escort her outside to take the boys for a walk in the park. His mother must be going mad because not only had she stood up for him, but she was going to the park with her grandsons.
“Why don’t we all sit down again?” Arabella suggested, motioning for everyone to return to the parlor. Arabella was feeling a bit rattled by what had transpired. She saw Tristan’s eyes on her. and she gave him a weak smile of reassurance, though she was still unsettled.
“Well, that was exciting.” Clara said, taking Arabella’s arm and giving her a comforting squeeze, “We won’t tell anyone about this, of course.”
Arabella was grateful for Clara’s touch and her support; if they were alone, she probably would have thrown herself into Tristan’s arms.
“May I speak freely and ask a question, with the knowledge that what you say to me, to us, will go no farther than our ears?” Victor asked as he followed Tristan, Clara, and Arabella back into the lounge.
“Of course, I think after the past few weeks you have more than proved your loyalty and friendship to Arabella and I,” Tristan replied as he reclaimed his seat.
“Do you have any idea at all as to why someone has been trying to impersonate you? Or why that unpleasant woman wished to force Arabella to wed her son?” Victor asked.
“I don’t know for a fact, but I believe it has to do with Avondale, my uncle, my brother, and father. Someone, for some unknown reason, wishes to destroy my family and take our property. But I don’t know why. My father was a bit of a scoundrel when it came to women but he always paid his debts and never dabbled with married women.”
“It is obvious that Mrs. Lester has something against you that much is obvious,” Edgar stated.
“Indeed, and the dowager knows her. But the problem is, how do we find out what she knows? Mother is constantly guarded by Miriam. And usually she won’t even speak to me.” Tristan said while shrugging his shoulders.
“Well, Mama knows everyone in the ton. If we ask for her help, she could find out from the grand dames of the ton what happened between that woman, your father, and your uncle.” Clara suggested.
“That is an excellent idea, Miss Waterhouse,” Marcus stated with a nod, then turned to Tristan. “What do you think, Tristan?”
“Indeed it is, would your mother be willing to help me, help us?” Tristan looked over at Arabella; she was pale and obviously shaken by what had just transpired. Tristan wanted this nightmare over; he wanted to learn why his family was being targeted and put the matter to rest. In the army, he had been excellent at gathering information and solving problems. What was happening to his family was a problem that he needed to solve; he just had to gather enough information to figure out why. “I know she and your father helped with our wedding for which I am eternally grateful. But I don’t know if I can ask her to do this for me. It could be dangerous.”
“Nonsense, no one would harm Mother. If they tried anything Father would end them. Father is very protective of Mother and a rather formidable man. Also, mother would be thrilled to help. She is very intelligent and gets bored easily. In London, she is forced to curtail her hobby of baking and confection making, as if it were known people would not think well of her. It took the ton twenty years to forgive her for marrying father over a drunken rake, who just happened to have a title.” Victor replied.
“Then I will gladly ask your mother for any help she can give us. I want to solve this mystery and move on with my life. “Tristan looked over at Arabella. “I want to have a quiet life with Arabella; she doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Then the members of the Secret Boxing Club pledge to help Tristan, Marcus, and Arabella solve the mystery of who is out to harm them,” Clara declared, looking around the room and earning nods of agreement from her brothers.
“Hear, hear,” Edgar said loudly.
“Thank you all for your help. I don’t know what to say,” Tristan said. He was overwhelmed by the kindness being extended to him, for so many years, it had simply been him and Marcus against the world.
“No need to, we are happy to help good people.” Victor replied, “And one day, when I need the help from a noble, I will call in this favor.”
After several minutes of silence, Arabella looked around the room as something came to her.
“Did anyone else happen to remember that the name of the first owner of this house was Harrison?” Arabella asked. “Do you think that Mrs. Lester is related to the previous owner in some way to the original owner of the house?”
Tristan mumbled a curse under his breath; he had been so surprised by what was happening that he had not made that connection. “That is an excellent observation, Arabella. What do you remember about Mrs. Lester and her son?”
“Just what Sir Howard and your aunt told me, that she thought she should have inherited Avondale. Mrs. Lester is somehow related to your late aunt; they are cousins of some kind, if I remember correctly. Mrs. Lester would often come to Avondale uninvited and overstay her welcome. She would make your aunt’s life most unpleasant by constantly directing barbs, at her and she would attempt to flirt with your uncle.” Arabella paused for a moment as she tried to remember what she’d heard. “Over time, it became so bad that the staff had standing orders not to admit her or her son, Mr. Mortimer. In addition I remember hearing your aunt tell my mother that she caught Mrs. Lester trying to steal from her.”
“That is interesting, so Mrs. Lester has been trying to take Avondale for some time and has denied.” Marcus stated aloud what everyone was thinking. He turned to Tristan, “If you asked the dowager, do you think she would enlighten us on what she knows?”
Tristan shook his head, “My mother is not likely to be forthcoming with information, as I said. The only reason she came to our defense is as she said, she didn’t wish to have the family name, or title, besmirched.”
“Then we shall simply have to find out ourselves,” Marcus stated, “If it was a large enough scandal, then people will remember what happened, and Mrs. Waterhouse’s asking will provide us with the answers we are looking for. We just need to be vigilant and patient.”
“If I might make an observation,” Edgar said, gaining everyone’s attention. “I too, studied law for a time. While Victor’s studies were always more focused on matters of judicial law and finance, mine were more related to business and matters of real estate. In class, we learned that all homeowners have to pay window taxes. The name of the homeowner would be listed on the tax rolls; we simply have to examine them.”
“Edgar, that is a brilliant idea, truly brilliant. I shall send a note to Jules and have him look into it,” Tristan replied, he gave Arabella a smile. “And thank you, Arabella, for the observation; it is an important clue, and we need all the clues we can get.”
Arabella flushed at Tristan’s praise and then nodded her thanks. “Clara, after we finish our tea, I would like to show you my conservatory. I could use some advice on plant care. I have never had one before and could use your advice.”
“You have a conservatory, how marvelous,” Clara responded, clapping her hands in delight. “Perhaps tomorrow, after we go dress shopping, we can stop at King’s Road to look for plants.”
“Oh, that is a wonderful idea. I am so glad you are here, Clara,” Arabella said and was rewarded with a beaming smile in return. It was good to have a friend in London, a friend who she could trust and liked what she did. While she loved Tristan, there were just some things one couldn’t talk about with a husband.