Seductive Lies (Secret Lives Series) (22 page)

Somewhere in the discussion
, she heard mention of a new puppy. A huge smile widened on Victoria’s face. Oh, the little minx! She was her father’s daughter, manipulating the situation to her advantage.

Slipping out of bed, Harriet fluffed out her gown and covered it with her wrap. Extending her hand to her daughter, she said, “Come, Victoria. Let’s go find Aunt Eleanor. I’m certain she must be looking for you. We will leave Lord Daneford to prepare for the day.”

“Father, Momma,” Victoria corrected. “I have a father now.”

Victoria accepted her mother’s hand and scooted off the bed. Glancing behind Victoria, Arthur’s gaze met hers and smiled a winning smile.

Oh…whatever was she going to do! Now, she had two of them to deal with…and she had never been happier.

Arthur was not in his chamber. Harriet gazed around the room, satisfied she was alone. She had plucked up her courage for this attempt. She couldn’t falter. Arthur had arranged for their departure on the morrow.

Frustration had led Harriet to this point—Arthur’s refusal to acknowledge there was more to Victoria’s abduction. Harriet had never accepted that Padgett had reacted to the possibility of losing her in such an extreme manner—abducting Victoria. It made no sense. Their arrangement had never been more than a convenient marriage
: fondness, yes, but never love. There had to be more.

She hadn’t a doubt of Arthur’s intention. He wanted to protect her and their daughter. Of Arthur and his love, she didn’t question, but of the abduction there was much more she did. So much more.

Logic dictated the happenings of the last few years held a connection. The deception that led to Arthur and her separation. Sophia’s death. Victoria’s abduction. Somehow, someway, there had to be a common link.

Harriet had an epiphany the moment Arthur brought Victoria back to her. For years, she had believed her grandfather’s assumption that her
gift
was in truth a curse. She heard clearly her grandfather ranting and raving about
those blasted gypsies
.

“Not to be trusted. Thieves. All of them. Not a decent bone in their body. No, those people never do anything without a scheme behind their words.”

But never once in his rants did her grandfather deny Harriet had become different after Madame Vadoma said her words. Even given her young age, she realized the reason. Her grandfather feared she would be looked at as strange, whispered behind her back, even shunned.

What he had not understood, what she had not understood,
was that one didn’t have a choice about who they were. The choice became whether they embraced that person. She could turn her back on her visions, or use them as they were meant to be.

Harriet reflected upon her decision once feared. At this moment, she felt only anticipation of what she might discover…needed to discover.

She thought briefly back to the ring Arthur had once given her. Someone, something, had tried to give her a message, one she couldn’t interpret. Was that not what Madame Vadoma tried in vain to tell her? To listen...to observe.
The answers are there. It is for you to decipher.

She had the day Victoria disappeared, although Arthur had quickly dismissed her vision as her fanciful imagination.

“Darling, unconsciously you probably suspected Padgett as being untrustworthy. You are an intelligent woman. You surmised a logical deduction.”

No, for all the brevity, Harriet knew the vision was more. Despite Arthur’s denial, the vision had saved Victoria. It had sent him in the right direction. Suddenly, her visions meant something different to her.

This new perspective had led her to this moment, hunting for those letters of Padgett’s that Arthur had confiscated. She had watched and waited for an opportunity.

Tomorrow
, Arthur had arranged for Victoria, Aunt Eleanor, and herself to be taken to London and the Duke of Torridge’s residence. Arthur and James were heading out for the day to investigate further into Padgett’s background.

She wanted only to touch the letters, read them. Perhaps it was her fanciful imagination, but she swore they called to her. How else would she have known that Arthur had placed the letters in the top drawer of the table beside his bed? Or at least it was what she believed.

She glanced back over her shoulder and then pulled open the drawer. The letters were there. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began reading. Her eyes were drawn upon the words…her head spun…she saw…she knew.

The words mingled together, but the inference was clear. Padgett had come to Danbe Dale with one intent—Harriet. From the letter, it seemed he owed someone a huge favor…a favor that had been called in.

Harriet’s hands trembled as she read. Instructions,
detailed instructions, on what had been expected out of Padgett. Oh, God…Oh, God! Her baby!

The instructions read clear and concise. It was the bottom of the letters that sent chills down her spine.

The wrath shall fall down around the guilty. I shall not rest until all are punished
, for the sins of the father are placed upon the child.

The Gracious One!

Suddenly, she realized she wasn’t alone. No sound. Just an awareness of his presence.

“Harriet?”

She looked up at her husband. She didn’t try to hide the letters. It would have been pointless. She bit her bottom lip, tilting her head to the side. “I know you said not to concern myself…that I wasn’t to worry, but I knew you were troubled. I had to know…”

“I suppose I was deluding myself that I could keep my concern from you.” Arthur sat beside her. He began picking up the letters spread across his bed. “You need to trust me. I won’t let anything happen to either you or Victoria.”

He laid the letters on top of the table and picked the letter she held out of her hand. He glanced over it. He shook his head. “My darling, you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m not made of glass, Arthur.” She sighed. “You should have told me.”

“Let’s not have a row,” he said. Reaching over, he touched her face. She couldn’t help but smile at his attempted diversion. He leaned over and kissed her. “I have a better way to spend our last hours before you leave.”

Oh, he had a way to make her forget everything else…but she couldn’t…not now.

“Arthur.” Her breath caught with his caress. “Arthur. I know…”

“Know what?” His lips trailed along her neck. Gently, she pressed her hands against his chest. With the greatest reluctance, he relented. “What do you know?”

“I know who is behind the scheme
, or at least what it means.”

Arthur leaned back and looked at her. Darkly. Tensely. “It is not one of your visions?”

She frowned deeply. “No,” she answered. She reached over and held up the letter. “I didn’t need one to figure out what this is about. It is all this raving about vengeance. I have heard it before. This person is talking about the Furies from Greek mythology.

“You
know—the ones who would go out and punish those who committed wrong doings against Society. In the books, if I remember correctly, the Furies were relentless and without mercy. Arthur…” Harriet paused. “The Furies were known to drive their victims mad.”

Arthur nodded
, as if he now remembered the story. “Greek mythology? What has that got to do with us?”

“As I read, memories resurged. I remember all too clearly comments and…books. She was always mixing stories up. She never read them the right way. I would have to explain them to her.”

“Who? Harriet, who on earth are you talking about?”

“Bessie, Arthur. Bessie. I don’t know what part she has played in this scheme, but I can assure you she has played a part. She was always calling herself the
Gracious One
. It’s Bessie, Arthur.”

“Good Lord, Harriet. Bessie? It makes no sense. She hasn’t an intelligent thought in her head…”

His voice trailed off, as if reliving events in the past.

“She was always with Sophia. I remember when I went to your townhouse
, Bessie was there.” Harriet paused. She cupped his face in her hands. “You asked me to trust you. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”

He nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore. Bessie was Sophia’s friend, her only friend at the end. Why
, she was the last one to see her before her death...

“Bloody hell!” Arthur stood. “I should have suspected!”

“It is not your fault.” Harriet soothed him. “Like you, I doubt she is the mastermind behind the scheme, but perhaps she can lead us to the one who is.”

He leaned over and kissed her quickly. “This changes everything. I need to speak to Carlisle.”

Harriet watched him walk back over to the door. She called to him. “Arthur, as for my visions.” She waited until he turned back to her. “You will find Mr. Padgett’s body under the bridge. It seems when he fell, his coat caught on a spike of the bridge’s post. He got entangled and drowned.”

* * * *

Arthur did not arrive at his townhouse in London until long after midnight. He waited until he would be certain his brother would be home. Earlier in the day, he settled his family at the Duke of Torridge’s residence. Harriet hadn’t been the happiest at the arrangement, but it was the safest accommodation. He didn’t want her far from his side and certainly wasn’t allowing her to stay at his townhouse.

He could no longer deny that Harriet had information she shouldn’t have been privy to unless she had been told in some manner or another. He had no explanation for the knowledge she uttered. He refused to consider a supernatural force. He didn’t believe in such nonsense, but understood it all too well.

He had not grown up along the moorlands of the Devon shore, not far from Cornwall, without giving credence to the legends, fairies, witches, and ghosts. There was no doubt Harriet and he had been raised where stories of such creatures were rife.

His patience
was tried to the extreme when Carlisle had accepted Harriet’s
gift
. Good Lord, at one time, he was the man who would have had her installed into an asylum. Now, his friend was her biggest ally. Finding Padgett’s body where Harriet had told him didn’t help the matter.

To Arthur, it mattered little whether or not his wife was gifted in a special way. It mattered that a madman, not a ghost, was after his family, bent on destroying what he held most dear.

Having given instructions to the butler to inform Ewan of his presence, Arthur entered into the study and poured himself a drink. He waited.

He turned his mind to his interview with Clark, his solicitor, reprimanding himself for not having asked the prevalent questions when he first discovered the deceit. He had been blinded at the time by rage. His sole mission had been to salvage his relationship with Harriet—which had failed miserably, leaving him trapped in a dark abyss.

He threw back his drink. His temper had not calmed by the time he heard the front door open. A moment later, his brother sauntered into the room. He threw his waistcoat over a high back chair and untied his cravat.

“Ah, Arthur, you have returned. You should have notified me. I would have had your room prepared,” Ewan said, heading for the decanter. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“It matters little, brother,” Arthur replied. “I am not staying. I came for only one purpose. Where is your wife?”

Ewan looked at Arthur in a peculiar manner and laughed. Pursing his lips, he shrugged
. “Your guess is as good as mine. She left about a month ago. Haven’t seen or heard from her since and, mind you, I haven’t tried. Why the devil are you looking for Bessie? There was no love lost between the two of you.”

“Let us say that I have an interest in her activities.”

Ewan stared intently at Arthur. Taking his poured drink in hand, he sat across from his brother. “Then I would be the last person to ask. I have no knowledge of her actions. Furthermore, I have no interest myself. My wife is free to do what she will as long as it doesn’t include me.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “Then we will start with that information. If you have no feelings toward the lady, why did you marry her?”

Ewan looked at Arthur with some cautiousness. “Why the sudden interest in Bessie? What has happened?”

“Why did you marry her?” Arthur pressed. “It is an easy question. Love
… convenience…money? Come. There had to be a reason.”

“Grandfather arranged it, dear chap. You of all people can understand Grandfather.”

“Do not lie to me, Ewan. I have visited with Clark.”

“Then why ask me if you have all the answers
?” Ewan shot back.

Arthur slammed down his fist, shaking the desk. “Don’t you dare be snip with me. I am not in the mood. Bessie has been found to be at the center of a conspiracy. Are you also? What part have you played?”

“Bloody hell! Conspiracy! Are you mad? Bessie?”

Arthur studied Ewan. The shock on his face seemed real, along with riddled confusion. Arthur leaned back. “I have come to suspect that Bessie may be behind a plot to undermine our family, not only with Sophia’s care, but I fear she had dealings with a man who abducted my daughter. A Padgett fellow.”