Shadowed by Sin (15 page)

“You insolent fool. Of all the children that survived, I had to be stuck with you for an heir. Heaven forbid—”

Benedict could not help but feel awkward and out of place.

Duncan nudged him and then leaned in to whisper, “If I have not said it before, I am telling you again. This family has trouble. I have a sneaking suspicion the worst is yet to come.”

“Where is your blasted cousin? I have not been able to locate him either,” the earl asked.

“How should I know? The ungrateful brat is always taking off when he is upset.”

The earl mumbled something and stepped away from his son, and walked toward his favorite chair. A footman waiting nearby poured Lord Cuthbert a drink, and, after passing it to him, he stepped back, awaiting more orders.

“I think it is rather clear that every time I think things could not get worse a body shows up, or dismembered appendages. I cannot imagine what the inspector will have to say about this.”

“My lord, a man can very well survive without a finger. We cannot assume there is another body, that is, until it is found,” Benedict advised, taking a nearby seat, and his friend followed suit. “I realize this is all very troubling, but I am certain you will get to the bottom of this,” he advised angrily while he fisted his hands.

Benedict leaned back in his seat, pulling out his pocket watch. He had to retire early, or he would never make it out on time to head back to town. “Well, gentlemen, I think I will retire for the evening. My lord, I will look into those things tomorrow as you requested.”

As he walked by George, he heard him mumble, “We will see about that.”

Benedict could not believe what he heard, so when he turned his head to glare at the earl’s son, the insolent fool snickered.

“A good evening to you, Lord St. John. I am ever grateful that you could attend this week.”

Benedict left the room with Duncan following him out as well. Duncan was right; the worst was yet to come.

* * * *

“Estelle, what are you reading?”

Oh, mama, how I wish you were still here. I fear for my life. Edwin has become unstable. I overheard the servants the other night commenting on his frequent trips into the Limehouse District. Just yesterday, Matthew had to retrieve him at the request of my dear uncle. Edwin is in such a state that he stormed into the library and began throwing things. Our uncle, of course, is quite vexed and has forbidden him to leave the manor.

Then there is George. He visited my room last night, and this time I caught him coming through a sliding panel near my bed. George did not realize I could see him entering, but I kept my eyes closed.

Oh, how I wish Gabriel could speak with my uncle sooner. If we could run away and marry by way of the blacksmith, I know he’d keep me safe.

I am not sure how much more I can take of this. Do I risk my soul ending up in purgatory if I put an end to this, or do I allow them both to destroy me until there is nothing left? A child cannot be born from these relations. I have to find a way to get away. I am so lost…

Mama, why did you leave me?

Benedict had caught her unawares in the parlor, looking jittery and on the verge of weeping. She fumbled with the final letter Helen wrote, days before she was found dead.

“Are you reading one of the romantic poems you love to read? Wait, why do you look weepy? What is the matter? If you are truly unhappy here, I will arrange for us to leave right away,” he admonished.

“You cannot leave,” George said from the doorway. “I mean, that is to say, with the officers now gone, we can be at ease. The Mr. Templeton will have a proper funeral and all.”

“Is there any other reason for your interruption, George?” Estelle asked, moving closer to her fiancé.

“No, I will be on my way now.” He glared at her sardonically. George walked out without so much as giving them a second look.

Estelle had not meant to come across as rude, but she did not want to be left alone with him. After reading Helen’s stack, being under the same roof with Edwin and George was not safe. “Ben, we need to leave as soon as possible. When we return to town, I have something to give to the inspector.”

“What is it, Estelle?”

“I found letters, evidence that things are not what they seem to be. No one is safe here, not even us. We need to leave and try and stop this before anyone else dies.”

He gripped her arms and gave her a discerning look. “If you know who murdered Gabriel, you need to tell me, now.”

“I know who murdered Gabriel, and I am pretty sure I know what happened to Helen. But I will not tell you while we are here. We must leave. I will not stay here any longer than necessary.”

Estelle felt the weight of her worries lift from her chest. She followed Benedict out of the parlor and found the maid that showed her to the attic.

“Mary, would you come along with us? I need a hand with some packing.”

“Yes, ma’am. Allow me to get word to our driver.”

Estelle followed her beloved up the stairs to her room, only to open the door and find her room had been ransacked.

“What in damnation!” Ben bellowed behind her, nearly knocking her over as he rushed into the room. “What could you possibly have that would warrant this mess?”

When their host joined them, Lord Cuthbert gasped and he blanched at the condition of the room. “I had heard you were leaving, and I can certainly see why. The bizarre events these last few days are disturbing.”

“You cannot tell me that this is surprising, Lord Cuthbert. I imagine since Helen and her brother arrived here, things began happening,” Estelle said.

The earl did not respond, so she continued grilling him. “And you cannot be remiss in what truly happened to Helen. Her death is no mystery at all, admit it; she took her own life.”

He grimaced, but then spoke softly. “She did, though I do not know why. She always seemed so happy, very pleasant to be around people. Her passing was quite tragic. Things have not been quite the same. Her brother went into a decline, and our own George could not stand to be under the same roof. After Helen’s death, he went on a tour of the continent. He took it so hard, he needed time away.”

I am sure he did.

“I have taken too much of your time already. Thank you for joining our family here, Lord St. John, Miss Humphrey.” The earl bowed and left them to her packing.

She could not wait to be at home with her papa and continue finalizing her wedding plans.

Two days later.

“Estelle, you have a visitor,” her papa said.

“Please tell me it is Ben.”

“I wish I could, dearest, but it is not. I believe it is an inspector from Scotland Yard.”

Scotland Yard?
“Show him in, Papa, and I would be happy to answer any questions the gentleman might have.”

A man slightly shorter than Ben entered the room. He wore spectacles, and his cheeks were a ruddy color. Portly in stature, he had to be nearing fifty in age. The gentleman took a seat across from her and studied her for a moment. He coughed and then opened his notebook. “Miss Humphrey, it is my understanding that you and Lord St. John are engaged. Is this fact true?”

“It is. We are to be married in two weeks’ time.”

“And when was the last time you saw Lord St. John?”

“The night before we left Lord Cuthbert’s estate, sir. I sent word to his home, but I have not heard anything back. I would be lying if I said I was not worried.”

The inspector paused to write something down and continued, “Miss Humphrey, were you aware that he sent me a missive during your stay at Hawthorne Hall, advising he was highly suspicious of your host’s family? He had some concerns and wanted to express them to me in person. ’Tis the truth. I have been waiting for him to arrive at my station for the same amount of time. Would you have any reason to suspect that the Cuthbert’s would do anything to harm him?”

“No but on the eve of our departure, there had been an incident at the dinner table. Apparently, the countess had a platter placed in front of her, and in the mouth of the lamb a freshly dismembered finger stuck out. There is also the questionable death of Mr. Gabriel Templeton, who supposedly threw himself onto the terrace. ” She paused to look at her papa and returned her attention to the inspector again. “Ben also found a dismembered finger on his pillow.”

His eyebrows shot up, and a gasp from the door alerted her that her aunt had been listening in.

“Be honest with me, young lady. Have there been any more deaths since that first night you arrived? Your fiancé told me about your swoon that night, after that gent fell to his death from the terrace. Do you have any reason to suspect someone from the house pushed him?”

Estelle pondered, but knew too little of the family’s history to suspect they would be capable of any wrong-doing.

“No. I cannot say that I know any of them that well. However, before the earl’s niece, Helen, passed away so suddenly, she was planning to get away to the country. At least that is what she confided in me. We had been friends for a while, you see. She wouldn’t confide in me why, but it was clear there had been a matter of distrust between her and George. I cannot even say if he is the reason why she wanted to leave.”

“My dear, the only single reason why a girl would swiftly retreat to the country, is if she were with child. I am going to tell you a little secret about the Cuthbert’s. They are a lot of sinners. Helen’s death had been poorly covered up, and by the time I had just enough evidence to bring in George for questioning, the earl had paid off the magistrate, and case closed. If I had to stake my life on it, I am certain that George had his hands on her.”

An incestuous affair? The inspector has to be wrong. He just has to be. Why would the earl’s son even consider such a sinful act?
Although at this point nothing would surprise her.

“I know this is not the appropriate time to mention this, but it might be useful in your current investigation. The night I swooned, I was returned to my room. I had been drugged and later told that a red rose tied with a black ribbon had been left on my bed. Several days later, we discovered a secret passageway into my room. You should know if there is one, there has to be more, although I cannot confirm it.”

The inspector closed his notebook and glanced at her with wary eyes. “I think that your information will help. However, we still have the issue of your missing fiancé. Even his parents haven’t heard from him, and he was expected around the same time. If I have need for you to return with me, will you?”

“Absolutely not!” her father bellowed from the door. “I will not let her return to that devil’s home. Not after everything she has revealed.” Her papa turned his focus on her now. “My dear, sweet girl, why did you not tell me? Your foolish aunt should have informed me the instant you both returned.”

Estelle had pleaded with her aunt for thirty minutes before they arrived home; it had much to do with her parents being uninformed of the tragedy during their visitation.

The inspector got up from his seat and inclined his head toward her. “I thank you kindly for your time, Miss Humphrey. I will see myself out.”

He rose and strode to the door slowly and then stopped, as if remembering something. The inspector turned around and faced her once again. “Just one last note, Miss. The earl’s heir returned to England under suspicious motives. His original plans were to return one month from tomorrow, and I have it on good authority that I am to expect French officials any day now. Do you think George Cuthbert is capable of murder?”

Estelle’s stomach dropped somewhere beneath her feet. Could it really have been George this entire time? Inconceivable to think the man acted alone. He had to have an accomplice. Yet, the inspector stood there waiting for an answer.

“Estelle, dearest, do not keep the man waiting. I am certain he would like to get home in time for his supper,” her aunt drawled.

“I apologize, Inspector, but if I had to guess, and after everything that has transpired at the manor thus far, I would have to confirm that your suspicions would not be a far stretch of the truth.”

“Thank you, Miss, Mr. Humphrey.”

I cannot believe I just had this discussion.

* * * *

Benedict shook his head, waiting for the fog to lift and his senses to return. He’d been bound to a post, and his limited vision from the darkness didn’t help one bit. Damnation! What happened?

The scent of rotting wood and decaying flesh burned his nasal passages, and the floor he sat upon dampened his trousers. Just where in the world was he, and how?
Blast it. George!

But where had George taken him? At what remote location did he have him concealed, or did he dare to return him to the estate? The last memory he had was being hit over the head, which explained the blasted pain throbbing in his skull. Nausea made him want to heave but he continued to keep breathing at a steady pace.

Benedict tried to recount all the events that led to where he sat. His friend had fallen from the terrace the first night, then someone entered Estelle’s room via a secret passageway and drugged her. Not one but two fingers were conveniently placed on a dinner platter and on his pillow. There were far too many inconsistencies with all the different attacks.

Benedict started to believe there was more than one assailant, which disturbed him on a greater scale. Just what in the world were the Cuthbert’s protecting?

A noise somewhere off in the distance alerted him that he would not be alone for much longer. Benedict tried to calm himself, but soon found his imagination running away on him.

“Look who is finally awake.” Darkness engulfed him, and only the light from the lantern that George had brought with him gave him a little hope.

“Why am I here, George? Or are you afraid that the inspector is going to dig deeper?”

“Silence!” George bellowed, his voice echoing in their cavernous surroundings.

Benedict heard a moaning somewhere behind him. Who could possibly be in here with him? He tried to crane his neck, but George delivered him a blow to the face.