Ransome's Honor (32 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

C
harlotte jerked awake, a scream strangled in her throat. The pounding came again followed by footsteps running down the stairs. Pink shards of light needled through the lace curtains. The sun wasn’t even fully awake yet, so why all the noise?

Men’s voices reverberated through the house—and one of them sounded like William. She rolled out of the bed, thrust her arms into the sleeves of her dressing gown, and tied it as she sprinted from her room and started downstairs. She pressed her back to the wall out of Collin’s way. He rushed up from the foyer, taking the stairs three at a time.

Concerned, Charlotte bolted downstairs. William paced the front foyer, his face stony with anger.

“What is it?” she breathed.

William’s expression never changed. “Julia is missing. I need Collin’s help to go after her.”

“What can I do?” Charlotte grasped William’s wrist. Julia in trouble ?

He gently extracted his arm from her grip and turned away, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing—nothing but pray for her safe return.”

A hand settled on Charlotte’s shoulder, and she looked around into her mother’s soft eyes.

“Yes, William. We will pray.” Mama’s calm voice had an edge to it. “But should not the authorities be made aware also?”

William paced the length of the hall. “No. This is my fault—my fault for delaying the wedding. My fault for leaving her in harm’s way. My fault for not going to London myself to see her father—for not taking her to her father.”

Mama left Charlotte and planted herself in front of William. When he stopped, she rested her hands on the gold epaulettes on his shoulders. “William, you cannot blame yourself. Do you know for certain what has happened to her?”

“She has been duped by those aunts of hers—from what her butler told me, it sounds as if Julia agreed to go to the Pembroke estate with Lady MacDougall yesterday.”

“But she had planned this visit. It is probably nothing to worry about.”

“Something does not sit right, Mother. The plans suddenly changed, yet Julia did not let anyone else know? Why would she and Lady MacDougall leave a day early without Lady Pembroke? It makes no sense. I know they are plotting a way to get their hands on Sir Edward’s money.” He banged his fist against his leg. “This is all my fault.”

Charlotte thought about the circumstances for a moment. “Julia said Lady MacDougall reminded her very much of her mother. Do you think she is capable of such duplicity?”

“If she is at all like Lady Pembroke, yes.” William resumed pacing. “If anything happens to her, I will never forgive myself.”

Mama stepped in his path again. “You cannot blame yourself for the actions of others. You had no way of knowing that something like this would happen.” She raised her hand to stop him from speaking. “No. I do not believe even you thought her relatives capable of such deeds. I am confident no harm will come to her. Lady Pembroke might be prone to maliciousness, but I do not believe even she would want to see any physical harm come to Julia. There would be no benefit to it.”

For a moment, William stood ramrod straight, face stony, eyes searching their mother’s face. Finally, his expression eased, the lines around his eyes diminishing. “Knowing you will be praying for her gives me confidence we will find her and return her safely to your protection, Mother.”

All three turned as Collin forged down the stairs, buttoning his uniform coat, his sword slapping his leg and the stair railing balusters. Susan, stricken and pale, followed, Collin’s hat clutched in her arms.

Charlotte, Mama, and Susan followed the two captains to the door, Charlotte in the lead. She stopped short on the threshold. A man she vaguely recognized stood on the front walk.

“Creighton, return home,” William commanded. “You must act as though you are ignorant of anything amiss.”

The Witheringtons’ butler saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

“Also, you must serve Lady Pembroke as if nothing has happened.”

“Yes, sir.” Creighton ran down the walk to an unsaddled horse and took off at a gallop.

Collin turned and kissed Susan’s forehead. “Everything will be well, my love. Pray for us.”

She nodded, tears streaming down both cheeks. “I will. Give Julia all my best love when you find her.”

Collin’s mask of determination slipped into a slight smile. “I believe I shall give that task over to William, if you do not mind.”

Susan gave a weepy laugh. “I do not mind at all.”

Halfway to the street, William turned. “Charlotte?”

Her heart pounded at the sudden notice. “Yes?”

“Go to the port Admiralty. Find Admiral Glover. Explain to him that Sir Drake Pembroke bribed the postmaster to divert all correspondence to and from Admiral Witherington. Get Admiral Glover to go to the post office with you to see how many letters have arrived from the admiral and what has become of them.”

Excitement at the assignment overrode the fear that had held Charlotte in its grasp since she’d awoken. “Yes, William.”

He fitted his hat to his head and touched the fore point of it. “Ladies, next time we see you will be when we bring Julia home.”

The pounding, pounding, pounding beneath him was enough to drive a man dart. Drake’s head throbbed in rhythm with the horse’s hooves. The darkness barely lessened as the sun made its way over the horizon behind the threatening gray clouds. Only the chill wind and intermittent rain slapping his face kept him alert and focused on reaching his destination.

Two hours ago, he’d stumbled back to the dingy room above the tavern where he’d been hiding out for the past week after a night of trying to earn back some of his losses at the tables. He’d been shocked nearly to soberness to discover a messenger from his mother waiting outside his door. The instructions in her note had almost knocked away the rest of the inebriation.

By the end of the week, he would be married to Julia Witherington, and her fortune would free him from his troubles.

How they had gotten Julia to agree, Drake did not want to imagine. He’d heard enough of his mother and aunt’s scheming recently to know that whatever method they employed was better left unexplored.

After an hour’s hard riding, he pulled up to the inn in Bishop’s Waltham. Once he presented the innkeeper with one of the precious coins his mother had sent along with the note, the man was more than willing to answer Drake’s questions.

“There was two ladies stopped by yesterday afternoon for tea—an older lady and a younger pretty mite. They had one of the lads run down to the big house at Marchwood to let them know to be ready for overnight visitors. But then the older lady let slip that they be heading for Scotland for the young woman’s wedding.”

“Thank you, my good man.” Drake tossed the man another one of his few coins. Aunt Hedwig was following his mother’s plan to the letter. He kicked the lathered horse into a trot. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the blowing, sweat-flecked beast to a stop in front of the sprawling, two-hundred-year-old manse.

Julia yawned and walked the length of the hall to try to work the knots out of her back. The lumpy bed in her mother’s old room had given her little rest, and doubts over the wisdom of this trip nibbled at her mind all night like a dozen ravenous mice.

Aunt Hedwig had taken to her bed as soon as they arrived last night, leaving Julia to explore on her own, though the long shadows cast by her candle had thrown an eerie pall over the vacant rooms.

The few servants were nowhere to be easily found this morning. The giant clock in the hall chimed eight times. She tried to calculate when she could anticipate Augusta’s arrival. She hoped Augusta was even now leaving Portsmouth so she would arrive by noon. But the steady rain might slow her progress.

Julia stepped into another bedroom, the furniture ghostlike under white sheets. What little she’d seen of Marchwood last night was grand but colder than she remembered from childhood. Faces of angry-looking ancestors stared at her from ancient portraits on nearly every wall. And though everything was clean, an aura of neglect permeated the house.

If the house had been this cheerless when her mother was a child, it was no surprise she’d married at seventeen. Julia wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“Julia?” Hedwig’s voice pealed through the halls.

“Yes, coming.” She hastened down the hall to her aunt’s room. “You look like you’re feeling better this morning.”

Hedwig plumped a pillow and put it behind her as she sat up in the bed. “A good night’s sleep was all I needed.”

Julia puzzled over the gleam in Hedwig’s eyes. “What...what a relief.”

“Yes. Now, you and I must discuss our real reason for this visit to Marchwood. Sit. Your height is craning my neck.”

With sudden trepidation, Julia sank into the straight-backed, wooden chair beside the bed. In this light, with no smile softening her mouth, Hedwig did not look much like Eleanor Witherington. “Our
real
reason?”

“We have something important to discuss now we are here. I came to Portsmouth in response to a letter from Augusta expressing her concern over your ill-judged engagement to a sailor.” She shifted herself into a straighter position. “I have observed. And more to the point, I have listened. I can keep my silence no longer. It has come to my attention that this engagement of yours is not a love match as so many in that backward town are so willing to believe.”

Invisible fingers tightened around Julia’s throat.

“I hate to bring you pain, but I have learned that your Captain Ransome is not the man of honor that everyone believes him to be. No, let me finish. I have been told by a reputable source that he marries you only for your dowry, and that he has been duping your father for years, acting the part of son to him only to curry favor and gain promotion and prestige. And your father, bless him, is too daft—I believe that is the word that was used-to realize Ransome has been taking him in all these years.”

A new understanding and a deep realization of her own stupidity for trusting Hedwig froze Julia’s spirit. A year ago, this argument might have had the desired effect. But her rekindled relationship with her father and her growing knowledge of William let her see through this paltry attempt to turn her against him. “I thank you for your concern, ma’am, but I assure you that is not the case. Captain Ransome is a man of genuine honor, and he would no more dupe my father than turn spy for France.”

The sympathetic simper vanished from Lady MacDougall’s expression. “I did not want it to come to this, Julia, truly I did not. But you have given me no choice. You think what I said to be untrue. But what will others think should they hear it? What would Captain Ransome’s fellow officers think should they know of his mercenary ways, marrying you only for your thirty thousand pounds?”

Icy dread wove throughout Julia’s soul. Oh,
Father God,
please do not let
her
do this... “You would not dare—”

“Think of how it would affect his mother and his sister—she just came out into society, did she not?-if everyone knew William married you only to gain favor with the admiral?”

Hedwig leaned forward, her icy gaze now feverish. “And think of your father, Julia. If it should become widely known that he had his own daughter play the harlot with most of the Admiralty to gain favor and advantage for himself. Your father would be drummed out of all good society, and Captain Ransome denied any further advancement for being married to a loose woman. The Ransome family would be so tainted by association with you that Miss Ransome would never secure a good marriage, no matter the amount her brothers have settled upon her.”

Julia gasped at the ugly insinuation and covered her mouth with a clammy hand, afraid she might be physically ill.

With a mad glint in her brown eyes, Hedwig thrust a piece of paper at Julia. “I have taken the liberty of composing a letter breaking your engagement. Tonight, this letter, copied over in your hand, will go to Captain Ransome; otherwise, all of Portsmouth will begin to believe you a paramour, Captain Ransome a mercenary, and your father a daft old man who prostitutes his daughter for his own advancement.”