Mistress - Amanda Quick [75]
“Quite unaware. One can only imagine that the entire village would be horrified if the truth came out. Everyone back in Deepford, including the sister, believes that Miss Bright is still traipsing about Italy in the company of her cousin.”
“I wonder what the good people of Deepford thought of Miss Bright’s decision to tour the Continent?”
“You may be certain that the journey was viewed with considerable disapproval.”
“But it was not considered scandalous?”
“No, although there were any number of villagers who predicted that Miss Bright would come to a bad end when she closed her academy for young ladies and took off for the Continent.”
“I’ll wager there were.” He got to his feet and went to stand at the window. “You have done an excellent job, Barclay.”
“Thank you, sir, I do try.”
“I know that I can rely upon your continued absolute discretion.”
“Of course.” Barclay sounded deeply grieved that Marcus even bothered to mention discretion. “Not a word will pass my lips.”
“Thank you, Barclay.”
Barclay hesitated. “There is one other small fact which may or may not be of interest to you, sir.”
“What is that?”
“I mentioned that Miss Bright’s sister, Corina, is married to Richard Hampton.”
“What of it?”
“It seems that a couple of years ago there was talk of Mr. Hampton marrying the elder Miss Bright rather than Corina.”
Marcus stilled. “Indeed?”
“There appears to have been some confusion on the matter.” Barclay paused. “Even the elder Miss Bright is said to have been, shall we say, surprised when Hampton made his interest in Corina known.”
“Is that so?”
“The villagers concluded that the elder Miss Bright’s heart was broken when Mr. Hampton made it plain that he preferred Miss Corina.”
The news that Iphiginia had loved another man, might still be in love with him, went through Marcus like a knife.
Did he break your heart, Iphiginia? Was that why you cast off the shackles of propriety and chose to ignore the rules? Do you still love him? Was Richard Hampton the man you were thinking of last night when you held me in your arms and whispered that you loved me?
Marcus gazed out into the garden for a few minutes. A gentle rain was falling, muting the bright hues of the flowers and dampening the verdant green of the foliage. The day had turned unexpectedly bleak.
He turned back to face Barclay. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“No, m’lord, I believe that about sums up the results of my inquiries.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Of course, sir.” Barclay heaved himself to his feet. “It was a rather hectic journey. I look forward to going home and putting my feet up in front of my own hearth.”
“There is one more thing.”
“Sir?”
“Tomorrow I would like you to make other inquiries for me.”
“Concerning?”
“I would like you to find out who recently built an elaborate sepulchral monument to a Mrs. Elizabeth Eaton in Reeding Cemetery.”
Barclay eyed him askance. “A sepulchral monument?”
“Yes, Barclay. A sort of grotto arrangement.”
Barclay looked resigned. “Very well, m’lord. I shall see what I can discover. Will there be anything else?”
“No, Barclay, you may go.”
Marcus waited until he was alone in the library. Then he walked slowly back to his desk and picked up the message he had received from Hannah an hour ago.
M:
Must see you. Urgent. Entrance to Dollanger
Gardens. Two o’clock.
Yrs.
H.
Marcus crumpled the small sheet of paper in one hand. He was afraid he could guess why Hannah was so anxious to risk seeing him again.
At two o’clock that afternoon, Marcus got into the nondescript hackney coach that halted on the street outside Dollanger Gardens.
Hannah, heavily veiled and dressed in an unremarkable brown carriage gown, waited inside. She had closed the curtains on the windows. The interior of the coach was drenched in shadows.
She confirmed his unpleasant hypothesis immediately.
“I received another blackmail demand while you were out of town, Marcus. Another five thousand pounds.” Hannah’s normally soft voice was harsh with anxiety.