Maud leaned closer and whispered, “First, though, run up and unlock Lady Rose’s door. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Lydia nodded and scurried away, as Maud tarried with Michael, both of them waiting for Tristan.
Thank God she’d had the foresight to act swiftly with regard to the Hamiltons! What if she’d delayed? Tristan and Michael would have strolled in to find the women still squarely wedged in the center of their lives. Due to Maud’s shrewd planning, they’d vanished without a trace.
The only problematic detail was Rose and her temper. If Tristan had stayed away as he was supposed to, Maud would have had plenty of time to calm Rose, to convince her that Amelia hadn’t been much of a friend after all.
As it was, Rose’s pique was still fresh, so she’d be difficult, but Maud was adept at handling an unruly child.
The butler was lurking, and Maud had him pour her a sherry, which she was sipping as Tristan entered.
“Well... ?” Michael asked him.
“Completely empty. They didn’t leave so much as a lock of hair.”
“Damn,” Michael muttered, then he apologized. “Sorry, Maud.”
“Apology accepted, but Captain, what is going on? We agreed that Michael would travel to Scotland and remain there.”
Tristan ignored her and spoke to Michael. “Think back. Did she ever mention a relative? Maybe an acquaintance in the city?”
“No one that I remember, and there was just her mother’s family, but they wouldn’t assist Helen or Jane—no matter how desperate they were.”
“Bastards,” Tristan grumbled.
“Captain!” Maud scolded. “Honestly. What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“Did you give her any money when she left?” Tristan absurdly probed.
“Why would I have?” Maud scoffed. “If she needed cash, she should have saved the wages you paid her. You did pay her, I assume?”
“Yes, but not an amount sufficient to see her through this debacle.”
“So,” Michael mused, “they’re broke and on the streets again. I’m very worried.”
“So am I,” Tristan concurred. “Why would Helen go? Why would she place her sisters in jeopardy? I realize she was angry with me, but she wouldn’t have deliberately endangered Amelia. I offered her lodging and an allowance. Why choose the streets, instead?”
“I don’t understand it,” Michael said. “What should we do?”
“I won’t have you fretting over it now,” Maud interrupted, intent on dissuading any rash pursuit while the trail was hot. “You’ll wash up and eat, you’ll have a good night’s sleep, and your options will be clearer in the morning.”
“I want to take action,” Michael insisted. “I can’t dawdle, wondering if Jane is all right.”
Maud was incensed, and she stomped over to him.
“You are not to speak that girl’s name.”
“It’s not up to you,” he retorted.
“It certainly is. You’ve caused enough trouble. We contained the scandal at Hastings Manor, and I won’t have you stirring it up in the city. If you start chasing around after her, what will people say?
“And you!” she fumed at Tristan. “What were you thinking, bringing him here? We had it all arranged.”
“I decided that separation was pointless,” he maddeningly stated. “Michael is old enough to make his own mistakes. I’m not the man to baby-sit him.”
“You’re permitting him to ... to ... involve himself with her?”
“If that’s what he wishes.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake!”
Maud was so irate that little red circles formed at the corners of her vision, and she truly thought she was about to suffer an apoplexy.
There was a sofa behind her, and she sagged down onto it.
What a disaster!
For a moment, her alarm returned as it seemed everything was ruined, but then, she recollected how perfectly her scheme had been implemented.
Rafferty had already contacted her. The Hamilton sisters were the newest tenants in Newgate Prison, and when a woman went inside, she rarely came out again.
Maud’s panic was ridiculous. She’d never be found out, and she might have relaxed, but she’d forgotten about Rose.
Suddenly, a pair of determined footsteps pounded down the hall.
“Tristan! Tristan!” Rose called as she ran in.
When he saw her livid face, he frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Ask her what’s wrong,” Rose charged, advancing on Maud. “You evil, wicked witch!”
Rose lunged, as if she might attack, and Maud squealed with fright and jumped behind the sofa, using it as a barrier.
“Whoa!” Tristan said, and he grabbed Rose around the waist, holding her as she fought and kicked, trying to escape so she could assault Maud.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
“Rose!” Michael admonished. “What are you doing?”
“She locked me in my room!” Rose told him. “The whole time I’ve been home, I’ve been locked in.”
“What?”
Michael glared at Maud.
“I couldn’t say good-bye to Amelia,” Rose whined.
“You saw Amelia?” Tristan inquired.
“Through the upstairs window. Maud wouldn’t let me come down.” Her struggles had ceased, and she grew limp in his arms, her burst of fury spent.
“But you talked to her?”
“Only for a second.”
“Was she with Helen and Jane?”
“Yes. Amelia was very distressed. Maud did something terrible to them. I just know it!”
Both men glowered at Maud, and she huffed, “Rose Seymour, your imagination is outrageous. How dare you level false allegations! You’re lucky I’m not the type to have you whipped for telling tales. And where are your manners? Your brothers have just arrived, yet you’re screeching like a banshee.”
“What did you do to them?” Rose yelled.
“Rose!” Maud snapped. “I won’t put up with such discourtesy!”
Rose couldn’t be allowed to hurl dangerous accusations. Maud approached her and eased her away from Tristan.
“Let’s get you up to your bedchamber,” Maud said. “You may come back down when you’re more yourself.”
Rose wrestled away and gazed up at Tristan. “You never listen to me. You never help me when it’s important.”
“I just walked in the door, Rose. Give me a few minutes. Michael and I will sort it out.”
“Don’t bother,” Rose angrily fumed. “You never cared about Amelia.
I
am the one who loved her. I’ll find out what happened to her on my own. I don’t need you!”
She stormed out, and as her strides faded, there was an awkward silence.
“At her age,” Maud counseled, “a girl can be so volatile. Let me pour you that brandy.”
She gestured to the butler, as Tristan stared out in the hall, focused on the spot where Rose had vanished.
“Maybe I should go after her,” he murmured.
“Absolutely not!” Maud insisted. “You’d be encouraging her in her rude behavior. She’ll assume she can act that way and get away with it.”
“I hate to have her so upset.”
“For now, we’ll leave her be. After she’s calmed, she’ll apologize to us. Only then will we converse with her on any topic.”
He might have continued to vacillate, but she was saved by Miriam hurrying in.
“Michael, you’re home!” she said, beaming.
“Hello, Miriam.” His tone was cool and ominously polite.
“I thought you were off to Scotland.”
“No,” was all he said.
“Let’s go in to supper, shall we? I want to hear of your adventures so far.”
Without waiting for his reply, she deftly guided him to the dining room.
“You must be starving, too,” Maud remarked to Tristan, and she motioned after them, urging him to follow.
“I am hungry, now that you mention it.”
He went easily, any concern over Rose temporarily forgotten.
Disaster
averted!
With Rose sent away in disgrace, Maud had the opportunity to convince him that the girl was completely mistaken about everything.
“We can discuss Rose after the meal,” she suggested. “We have to figure out what’s to be done with her.”
“She’s distraught because she’s missing Amelia, and I expect she will keep on missing her for quite some time.”
“Yes, she will, poor child, but she’ll get over it. We’ll see to it, hmm?”
Tristan held her chair, and she smiled.
TAP! Tap! Tap!
At first, Rose didn’t realize that the noise was anything special. She imagined it was tree branches scraping the house, and she was too enraged to pay attention. During her imprisonment, with that sneaky Lydia delivering her food, Rose had planned the revenge she’d have once her brothers returned, but she’d confessed every indignity, and they wouldn’t listen.
They never listened.
The noise came again.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
She walked over to the window and threw it open. The night was very dark, so it was difficult to see.
“Who is it?” she asked. “Who’s there?”
To her surprise, Amelia stepped out of the shadows, and when Rose almost called out to her, she pressed a finger to her lips, indicating Rose should be silent.
Let me in!
Amelia mouthed.
Rose pointed to the servants’ entrance, and she raced down the rear stairs. In a matter of minutes, they were in her room, with no one the wiser as to Amelia’s arrival.
They huddled on the floor in Rose’s closet, behind her rows and rows of dresses, and on studying her friend, Rose bristled with temper.
Amelia’s face and hands were dirty, her shoes scuffed, her hair straggly. Her stockings were torn at the knees, as if she’d fallen.
“Where are your sisters?” Rose whispered.
“You won’t believe what happened to us!”
“Yes, I will.”
As Amelia recounted her tale of treachery and arrest, Rose was so furious that she thought she might explode.
“We can’t let Maud get away with this!” Rose said.
“No, we can’t.”
“What should we do?”
“I was hoping we could talk to Captain Odell or Lord Hastings.”
“I already tried. They ignored me.”
At the news, Amelia looked deflated and very near to tears.
“I’m supposed to meet Miss Dudley very soon,” Amelia mentioned. “What will I tell her?”
“You’ll tell her Captain Odell is a cruel blowhard and that he won’t help us. She’ll understand.”
“She’ll know where Helen and Jane are, though. Perhaps we could rescue them ourselves!”
“Yes, perhaps we could.”
Rose stood and grabbed a shawl, and she made a sort of sack and started stuffing various items into it.
“What are you doing?” Amelia inquired.
“I’m running away. I’m going to live with you and Miss Dudley.”
“We don’t have a home for you.”
“Then we’ll live on the streets, but we’ll be together. I hate it here, and I refuse to remain another second. Maud will never lock me in again.”
She tugged Amelia to her feet, and they riffled through Rose’s clothes and pulled out her two warmest cloaks. They drew them on, then tiptoed to the door and peeked out. It was late and very quiet.
“We can sneak out the kitchen,” Rose murmured. “We’ll take some food with us.”
“We should bring extra. Miss Dudley will be hungry.”
Holding hands, they crept to the stairs.
TRISTAN sat at his desk in the library. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes.
Everyone was in bed, and he should have been, too, but he kept thinking about Helen and where she might have gone. There must have been a detail he’d missed, some hint of where to begin his search.
He picked up the folder he’d been perusing, scrutinized it again, then dropped it onto the polished wood. It contained the original letter sent over from Mrs. Ford’s employment agency when Helen had come for her interview.
Helen Hamilton, age twenty-four, proficient in French, Italian, pianoforte, geography mathematics. Especially good with comportment and social graces.
He’d read the lines a hundred times, as if the paltry narrative could offer a clue as to where she was.
In the morning, he’d visit Mrs. Ford, as well as the decrepit boardinghouse where Helen had previously stayed. He’d even call on her despicable relatives.
Someone, somewhere, had to know what had happened to her.