Her Saving Grace (22 page)

“I’ll try,” she told him anyway, because she didn’t want to be afraid so much. She wanted to love again, to feel cared for, just as much as she wanted to love and to care for another.

“That’s all I ask,” he told her, his warm smile melting her earlier worries away, as if they were no more substantial than a snowflake.

She leaned down to kiss him and he responded with a fervour that quite made her forget that she was a respectable widow. She felt like a girl again,
young and carefree, galloping through the stubble fields with her father, only here there was no wind in her face and the rhythmic hoof beats were replaced by her galloping heart.

She was so caught up in the moment that she was slightly stunned when
a noise came from next door. She pulled away, panicked. As much as she usually accepted and on occasion, invited ridicule, she had never dreamed of being shamed in this way; as a wanton woman of loose moral character. 

“Nate!” she hissed, knowing that any second, the valet would come through to open his curtains. If he found her here, she would soon be the object of scorn and ridicule throughout the town.

Nathaniel looked as panicked as she though, and clearly had no suggestions.

Hearing footsteps approach, she flung herself from the bed and looked around for something to hide in or behind. Seeing only the bed, she dropped to her knees and crawled underneath it
, as the door to the dressing room opened.

“Good morning, my Lord
,” she heard the valet say.

Thankfully the dressing room doorway was on Nate’s side of the bed
, but the valet would come around her side to open the second set of curtains, so she wriggled into the middle.

“
Good morning, Markham.”

“I’ve left some warm water in the
dressing room and your clothes are laid out.”

“Thank you. I think I can dress myself this morning, if you have any pressing matters to attend to.”

“I don’t, Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite certain, my Lord. It’s no problem.”

Nate hadn’t spoken again so he clearly was out of ideas and even if she could have communicated with him in some way, Damaris didn’t know what else to suggest.

She silently cursed the valet’s work ethic and watched his feet as he walked but as he rounded the end of the bed, she spotted her dressing gown, lying where she had left it, by the door!

Markham stooped to collect it.

She was doomed.

As Markham draped the dressing gown over his arm, Nate’s heart sank. He trusted his valet to be
discreet; he had looked after Nathaniel since he was sixteen, and had worked for the Copleys since he was a boy, working his way up to the position of valet. Nathaniel knew that Winton was training him up as a butler, so he could take over when Winton retired and if he didn’t trust his own judgement, he could trust Winton’s.

No one was infallible, however and if presented with proof that a woman had spent the night with him, no matter how innocently, well that might just be too big a mor
al lapse for Markham to accept. He was loyal to the family after all, not Damaris, but while no one would think less of him for taking a woman to bed, they would surely gossip about the odd, widowed heiress that he had bedded.

He had only one hope.

“Markham, would you return that to my sister please? She came to see me last night. She thought she heard an intruder, and must have dropped it.”

“Now, sir?”

“Please, Markham, she’ll need it to dress.”

“Of course.” He proceeded to the window and opened the curtains, then left the room.

Damaris squirmed out from under the bed and kneeled beside it.

“You sent him to
Annabelle!” she hissed.

“Anna is a good woman, she won’t betray you.”

“But that’s not her gown, she’ll give me away, no matter how unintentionally!”

“Trust me, she will understand. We all three covered for each other’s indiscretions as children.”

“As children!” She sounded scandalised and he couldn’t help chuckling.

“I mean that we covered for bad behaviour, not that we kept strange women, or men in Anna’s case, under the bed. She’ll
accept the robe and won’t say anything untoward, I promise.”

“She’ll hate me,” Damaris wailed, dropping her head onto the mattress so she almost looked as if she was praying.

“She won’t hate you, honestly, but if you don’t go now, Markham will catch us red handed when he returns.”

As angry as she felt, she knew that he was right and she dashed from the room.

***

Damaris closed her door behind her and leaned against it, slightly out of breath after her dash. Than
kfully she hadn’t seen anyone, but just the idea of being caught was enough to make her stomach roll.

What’s worse, she couldn’t blame him for this mess, for she had
gone to him last night, and she had kissed him this morning, which is why she lost track of the time.

There was no Lilly to help her dress but Annabelle’s lady’s maid would be seeing to her for the moment. She prayed that the maid didn’t notice
her lack of gown and Annabelle’s recent acquisition of a new one.

The maid
arrived a few moments later and if she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

Damaris had asked for a simple hair style but what she got was far more intricate than her usual bun, even if it was simple by most standards. She was too distracted to think much about it however, believing that she might be thrown from the house
at any moment, once her lack of decorum was discovered.

She descended the stair
s to breakfast with a heavy heart and found that Nathaniel and Matthew were already there. Nate poured her some tea from the pot while she fixed herself a plate of food. She didn’t take very much however, since she had no appetite and she left before either man was finished.

It wa
s only after breakfast, as she was headed to the study, that she realised she hadn’t even considered her father’s case this morning.

Her dead father’s brutal death had been all but forgotten, for the idea that she had invited censure on a man she had only known for a week.

What was wrong with her? She was out of leads to follow and she should be devoting her attention to that conundrum, not fretting over a man whom she had no intention of marrying

Elizabeth was coming to see
her that afternoon and whilst it warmed her heart to think of spending time with her best friend, it also took her away from the investigation.

Nathaniel entered the study a few minutes after her.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You were very quiet at breakfast.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m just distracted by the investigation, that’s all.”

“You should take a day off,” he told her.

“
Enough time has already been lost, I cannot lose any more.”

“One day is hardly here nor there, Mari, and as I said earlier, you can overthink a problem. Your friend is coming this afternoon and Ella soon after that. Take today off and relax. It might help you to think more clearly tomorrow.

His words were tempting, and she did need to practice on the pianoforte at some point, so why not today?

“He’s my father; I can't abandon this just to enjoy myself.”

“You aren’t abandoning anything,” he assured her. “You are allowed to have your own interests and pursuits, and your father would not want you to spend your every waking moment finding his killer.”

She knew he was right. Something else had been plaguing her.

“Do you still have the letter from Marissa?”

He nodded and made his way to the desk. Withdrawing a letter from a drawer, he handed it to her and left saying, “I’ll give you some time to read it.”

Damaris broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Dear Mari,

I know you must be dreadfully hurt by my withholding some of your father’s papers from you
, but please know that I truly believed I was doing the right thing.

On the last few occasions
that I saw your father, he was deeply troubled, worried about secrets being leaked from his workplace. He wouldn’t tell me many details and it took a lot to even get that much information from him. The only other thing he told me, and that had me so worried, was when he said that the danger was closer than he could ever have guessed.

He wouldn’t tell me what he meant and I only saw him once more
, so he was right, the danger
was
close.

I had thought that perhap
s he was worrying for nothing or exaggerating his worries, but when he went missing, I knew that his fears had been very real.

I know you must hate me and I cannot blame you
, especially after how good you have been to me but please know, I wanted to tell you what I knew, truly I did but each time I tried, the words wouldn’t come. Your father loved you more than life itself and he would have gladly died to keep you safe. Whoever hurt him was still free and would have hurt you too, if you got too close to the truth.

I didn’t read the papers he left here but I did collect them up and kept them somewhere safe.
A lot of people came by to ask what I knew about Charles; the police, his bosses from the War Office, your brother and your detectives, but I didn’t know who to trust, so I didn’t tell them anything, other than that he had been out of sorts recently, which was no secret. I knew that one day, someone would come whom I could trust and I believe that man to be Lord Copley.

I hope I am right, that he keeps you safe and that the papers help
him to find your father’s killer, giving you the answers which you crave. I also hope that one day, you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I was only trying to keep you safe, as your father would have wanted.

Fond
est regards,

Marissa

Damaris’ eyes were wet with tears as she finished the letter. Deep down, she had known that there
must be a good reason for Marissa’s deception, but she had been unwilling to hear it. Now that she knew why, she couldn’t stay angry at the other woman because Marissa was right, her father would not want her to do anything dangerous, and whoever killed her father had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were very dangerous.

She
took out some paper and began writing a response.

***

Elizabeth Franklin called in the afternoon and greeted Damaris with a kiss on her cheek.

They had tea
with Annabelle and Isabelle in the rear parlour, which had a wonderful view of the manicured gardens. Eliza knew both women a little from local events and they chatted easily. Even Damaris tried her best to enter into conversation; this sort of small talk usually annoyed her but she found the opinions of these three women to be interesting, and their discussions were far broader than the usual unsubstantiated gossip.

They first discussed some of the change
s that Eliza’s husband was making on her family’s land to improve farming, then conversation moved onto a novel Annabelle had recently finished, Annals of the Parish by John Galt, which detailed Scottish country life and it’s changes over 50 years.

Damaris remembered loving novels as a child but it only just struck her that in recent years, she hadn’t read any fiction at all.
She asked if she could borrow the book and Annabelle readily agreed.

After perhaps half an hour to satisfy etiquette, Isabelle suggested that Damaris show her friend the gardens
, so that they could talk in private.

“You look better,”
Eliza told her friend as they stepped outside, foregoing a pelisse as the day was warm, but taking shawls to cover their arms from the sun.

“Do I?” Damaris hadn’t been aware that she had ever looked bad.

“Yes, your cheeks are already filling out a little, and you have a sort of glow about you.”

Damaris touched her hands to her face.
“It must be the country air, I don’t go out very much when I’m at home.”

“And how are you coping with everything?”

“I’m not sure to be honest,” she admitted. “At times I feel overwhelmed but I try to stay focused on Father and this investigation.”

“I’m sure you must realise that tongues are wagging in town.”

Just because no one had told her what was being said, didn’t mean that she was unaware. What with her investigation, two murders, being made Constable, her arrest of the abortionist and her adoption of a waif child, the gossips must think all their Christmases had come at once.

“I can imagine,” she said, with a resigned sigh. “Anything I need to know?”

“Well, the ladies of the assembly rooms,” they were the committee which oversaw membership and events held there, “are saying that they expect a June wedding between you and Lord Copley, whilst mothers everywhere are mourning the loss of your fortune for their sons.”

“They think he has proposed?” she sounded surprised.

“Well having seen you both at the May Day Ball, you both seemed rather smitten.”

“Smitten! I didn’t even like him then!”

Eliza smiled. “Does that mean you like him now?”

Damaris blushed.

“It’s all right if you do,” Eliza tried to reassure her friend, taking her arm. “No one expects you to remain a spinster.”

“I’m not a spinster, I’m a widow.”

“You are a vital young woman,” Eliza corrected. “I know you cared for William, but you don’t deserve to be locked away in some ivory tower for the rest of your life, you’re too spirited for that. Lord Copley seems far more your equal and if you do care for him, I think he would be a very good match for you.”

Damaris didn’t want to think too much about her relationship with Nathaniel, so she none too subtly moved the conversation on.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about Franklin?”

Eliza smiled but seemed happy to talk about her husband and family. They had four children in all
, with but a year separating them in age, and Elizabeth seemed as smitten with her children as she was her husband.

Damaris was surprised to realise that while she did feel the occasional pang of longing for her own son, hearing about someone else’s children wasn’t nearly as painful as she might have imagined.

They had three daughters and one son but while Franklin teased her that they still needed a ‘spare’ as well as an heir, Eliza had insisted on a break in children. She didn’t go into details about how they were achieving that, they were so in love that Damaris doubted they were sleeping separately, but she had read enough medical books in her time to have a few ideas.

She was surprised to realise that more than envying Eliza her children, she envied her relationship with her husband more. Franklin seemed a truly loving and respectful husband and from everything Eliza said, they complemented one another’s characters beautifully.

As much as she had cared for William, and he for her she believed, they didn’t have the connection that Eliza and Franklin had.

The women
had walked through the manicured rear gardens and now returned to the house, through the rose garden at the side, which was slightly less orderly and wilder.

“Before I
forget, I must tell you what people are saying about your father.”