The Daughter of Highland Hall (23 page)

Louisa questioned her all the way to Ramsey House as to why she had bought the paper, and Kate finally told her that William knew the man. That wasn’t a complete explanation, but it was all she could bring herself to say.

William rose from his desk and faced Louisa. “I don’t know Reginald Martindale personally. I only know of him.”

“Don’t be vague. What is your connection to this man who has been murdered in cold blood in his own home?”

Julia gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth. “He’s dead?”

Louisa pointed to the article again. “Apparently, if this newspaper can be relied upon to tell the truth.”

William picked up the paper and scanned the article. His shoulders sagged as he laid it on the desk again. “We may not know Reginald Martindale, but I’m afraid there is a connection between us.”

“Well, what is it?” her aunt demanded.

“My brother David has been romantically involved with his wife, Dorothea, for a few months.”

Louisa’s hand flew to her chest. “Good heavens … Your brother had an affair with the wife of a diplomat?” Her eyes widened. “Is he responsible for this?”

“If you’re asking did he shoot Reginald Martindale, then no, I don’t believe he did. But his connection with Dorothea and his presence at the house last night will make him a suspect in the case.”

“He was there … when the man was murdered?” Louisa sank down in the chair and lifted her hand to her forehead. “Oh, dear, this is terrible! I feel quite faint.”

Sick dread washed over Kate. A man had been murdered, and though David had not fired the shot, he had played a role in it.

Julia rose and crossed to Louisa’s side. She laid her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I know this is upsetting, but perhaps when you know the facts it will help you come to terms with what’s happened.”

“I doubt hearing the details will soothe my nerves.” Her aunt looked up at William. “But I suppose you should tell me the rest.”

William relayed what had happened at the Martindale home the night before.

Louisa’s face flushed, and she grimaced as the story progressed. “If your brother is interviewed as a witness, his involvement with Dorothea Martindale will come to light, and nothing can stop the spread of that kind of poisonous gossip once it starts.”

William’s eyes clouded. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s true. There is no turning back the tide on a story like this, even if David is never arrested.”

Louisa paced across the room, intent in thought. When she reached the piano, she spun around and glared at William as though he were the one who shot Reginald Martindale. “Of course you know this could ruin all our
hopes for Katherine. No one will want their son to marry into a family rife with scandal!”

Kate’s thoughts flashed back to her ball. She had been the star of the evening, with a line of young men eager to dance with her. What would they say now?

William lowered his dark eyebrows. “We all care about Kate and want the best for her, but a man’s life has been lost, a family destroyed, and my brother may be accused of a murder he did not commit. Certainly those are the most important things to consider right now.”

“Of course, but there’s nothing we can do about those matters.” Louisa shifted her unhappy gaze to Kate. “Our focus should be on Katherine and containing the damage this will do to her reputation.”

A dizzy feeling swept through Kate. Her eyes burned as she tried to blink away her tears. She would not cry—not in front of everyone. She swallowed hard and forced out her words. “Excuse me. I … have some things I need to do.” She turned and hurried toward the library door.

“Oh, Katherine …” Julia’s voice choked.

Rather than comforting her, Julia’s sympathetic tone broke through her wall she’d raised to protect her emotions. A renegade tear slipped down her cheek as she strode out of the library and across the entrance hall. How foolish! She must get hold of herself.

“Kate, wait a minute.” Jon stepped out of the library.

She quickly swiped her cheek before she turned to face him.

He pulled the library door closed behind him and crossed to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. Compassion filled his eyes as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “I’m awfully sorry about all this.”

She accepted the handkerchief and blotted away her tears. “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s not going to change anything.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a few tears.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. Most men hate to see a woman cry.”

“I have a mother and a sister. I am used to it.”

“I can’t imagine Julia crying over something like this.”

“Oh, she’s shed plenty of tears over issues much less important.”

“Do you think my aunt is right?”

Jon paused for a moment. “London society does seem to place a great deal of importance on a family’s reputation.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true, but if they find the person who murdered Mr. Martindale, then David’s part might only be a small line at the bottom of a newspaper story.”

Jon glanced away, looking doubtful.

She frowned. “Well, it could happen like that … if they find the man who did it.”

“I’m sorry, Kate, but your cousin’s involvement with Mrs. Martindale and his presence at her home the night of the murder are facts that won’t soon be forgotten. It’s unfortunate, but people seem to relish a murder mystery, especially one that involves a romance.”

Kate sank down on the steps. “You’re probably right. This will make us all outcasts for the rest of the season. Perhaps we should just leave and go home to Highland.”

“Give up just because the road has become rough?” He sat down beside her. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She glanced at him. “It doesn’t?”

He shook his head and watched her a moment more, kindness in his eyes. “I have an idea. Why don’t you take a break from all this and come with me to the Daystar Clinic?”

She straightened and met his gaze. “What would I do there? I’m not a doctor or a nurse.”

“You could lend a hand at the reception desk, or better yet, comfort a child who is ill or help a mother who is trying to manage two or three young children while she waits to see the doctor.”

“Would they welcome an untrained volunteer?”

“You’d only be untrained for the first ten minutes.” His smile warmed. “What do you think?”

The tension in Kate’s shoulders eased. “It would be wonderful to get away for a few hours.”

“I’m sure Dr. Pittsford and the rest of the staff would welcome your help.” His voice softened. “I’ve often wished I had an assistant—not just another set of hands, but someone who was kind and caring—to help me with the patients.”

She looked into his eyes, trying to read the emotion behind his words. Was that friendship reflected in his gaze … or affection? A shiver raced down her arms, and she pushed the question aside. Jon was a kind and caring person. Friendship was all he felt for her, and that was all she would allow herself to feel for him.

Louisa walked out of the library and spotted them sitting on the steps. Her eyes flashed. “Katherine, how many times have I told you ladies do not sit on the stairs?”

Katherine rose to her feet, but she refused to apologize.

Jon stood beside her.

Louisa glared at her. “Go upstairs and get your hat and gloves.”

Kate frowned. “Why? Where are we going?”

“I want to make a few calls and see what we can do to squelch the gossip that is sure to be circulating.”

Kate stared at her aunt. How could she even think of paying calls today?

“Well … don’t just stand there. Hurry up. We’ve no time to waste.”

“But Jon asked me to go with him to the Daystar Clinic this afternoon.”

Louisa shot a disdainful glance at Jon. “A medical clinic on the East End is no place for a lady, especially a
free
clinic.” Her lip curled. “Who knows what kind of diseases those people carry.”

Kate stiffened. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe with Jon.”

He gave a firm nod. “I wouldn’t allow Kate to have contact with contagious patients.”

Her aunt shook her head. “It’s out of the question.”

“I don’t understand why you are making such a fuss.” Kate clenched her hands. “I’ve done everything you asked and gone everywhere you wanted for the last month. I’m simply asking for one afternoon to do as I choose.”

“I don’t want to discuss it. Now go upstairs and get your things.”

Kate locked gazes with her aunt, her face growing ever warmer. She hated to admit it, but she could not win this battle, and continuing the argument in front of Jon would only cause everyone more embarrassment. She turned and stalked up the stairs, but as she passed the lower landing she glanced back at Jon.

He stood by the bottom step, his stance unyielding.

When Kate reached the upper landing, she took one last look at Jon and her aunt.

He remained where she had left him, facing Louisa like a silent sentinel.

Her aunt lifted her chin. “Why are you still standing there? Do you have something to say?”

“If I were not a gentleman, I would tell you exactly what I think of your overbearing manner toward Kate, but since I am, I will keep my opinion to myself.”

“Ha! A gentleman indeed.” Louisa lowered her voice. “I’ve seen the way you look at my niece.”

Kate froze, then leaned against the wall, just out of sight, and waited to hear what would be said next.

“There was nothing I could do to prevent William from becoming engaged to your sister”—Louisa’s tone came harsh and cutting—“but I do not intend to stand by and let Katherine throw her life away on someone who would carry her off to India to suffer a martyr’s death among the heathen!”

Jon huffed out a mocking laugh.

“You think this is a laughing matter?”

“No, it’s just your perspective on missionary life is quite … unusual.”

“You listen to me, young man.” Louisa lowered her voice, but Kate could still hear her clearly. “You are not a suitable match for Katherine, and you will keep your distance. Do I make myself clear?”

Kate held her breath, waiting for Jon’s answer.

“More than clear. But it’s hard to believe you could be so presumptuous and cold hearted.”

Louisa gasped.

Jon’s footsteps crossed the entrance hall, the front door opened, and then it banged closed.

Kate’s heart pounded as she slipped down the hall toward her room. Jonathan Foster was a brave man to stand up to her aunt like that. It made her admire him even more, and nothing her aunt said would change her opinion of him.

Lydia snipped the white thread with her sewing scissors and chose a needle from the felt packet. She only had a short time before tea, but if she hurried she might be able to repair the rip in Miss Katherine’s petticoat before everyone else came to join her in the servants’ hall. She spread the lacy ruffle across her lap and examined the torn section. Miss Katherine had stepped on it while dancing last night.

Miss Katherine had told her about the evening while Lydia helped her undress before bed. Miss Katherine had danced with at least a dozen different partners, twice with Mr. Jonathan Foster and four times with Mr. Edward Wellington, the future heir of some estate in Somerset.

It all sounded wonderful.

She was glad for Miss Katherine. She deserved some happiness after losing both her parents when she was so young. It wasn’t always easy being her lady’s maid—Miss Katherine knew what she wanted and she spoke her mind. But she’d tried to help Lydia find her sister, and though nothing had come of their search, Lydia would always be grateful for that.

The scent of bread baking drifted in from the kitchen, and Lydia’s stomach grumbled. She shifted in her chair and focused on her sewing again. Thank goodness it was almost teatime.

Patrick, the second footman, walked in and sat next to her at the long wooden table. “What’s that you’re working on?”

“Never you mind, Patrick Sawyer.”

His eyes widened and his face reddened as he glanced at the lacy garment. “Sorry, Lydia. I didn’t mean anything improper.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know you didn’t. You’re just too easy to tease.”

He smiled. “Say, I was wondering … I have my half day tomorrow, and I thought I might do a bit of sightseeing. Maybe go to the park for a band concert.” He shifted on the bench and glanced her way. “Would you like to come with me?”

Lydia blinked and stared at him. “You and me … go off on our own?” She shook her head. “I don’t think Mrs. Adams would like that.”

Ann took a seat on the other side of Lydia. “You should go. This might be your last chance to get out and see the sights.”

“Oh, we’ve plenty of time.” Lydia pulled the needle through the next stitch.

Ann tipped her head. “That’s not what I heard.”

Lydia looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I think we may be headed back to Highland any day.”

Patrick frowned. “Where’d you hear such a thing?”

Ann lowered her voice. “I just heard Lady Gatewood carrying on something awful. There’s a scandal brewing, and she said it’s going to ruin the family.”

Patrick leaned forward. “What kind of scandal?”