Chapter Twenty-Two
Hugh let Ned take the lead so he might think unimpeded. He had debated asking Eleanor not to travel with them; indeed, he’d thought about forbidding it. She would slow them down. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Her countenance was pale, and from the looks of her, she hadn’t been eating. He blamed himself for that. If only he’d waited to speak to her about their daughter until after he’d had a chance to calm down and consider the matter from her point of view. He should have been more understanding. She’d deceived him, and he had a right to be angry. But he was beginning to comprehend her reasons, one of which was to shield him from scandal. And she’d apologized. Most sincerely. But no, like the resentful, judgmental man he was, he had barged in and accused her of everything from lying to neglecting and abandoning her child. He’d said she was exactly like his mother, and she hadn’t even flinched. She carried too much on those slim shoulders as it was, and he’d added to her burdens. And now this.
Could Eleanor possibly have believed he would not want Lili? She had said she did not know the kind of man he was and had no idea what to expect from him. At the time she had learned she was with child, their acquaintance had been of short duration. It wasn’t until he’d returned and they’d become close—more than close—that he’d confessed his feelings about his mother. She could not have known he would never, ever, willingly give up a child he’d fathered. She’d stated, and she was right, that in such a circumstance, men usually ask to be informed if there are consequences. It was de rigueur. Most men wouldn’t have meant it sincerely, though Hugh most certainly had. But she hadn’t known that at the time they’d made love atop some hay bales on a freezing November night.
Eleanor had said she wished to start over posing as a widow with a child, in a new location. Perhaps she believed that was the only way forward. Such a lonely, isolated existence that would be.
…
They broke the journey at a coaching inn near Petersfield. Ned opened the door of the coach and let down the steps for Eleanor, and they joined her father and Hugh, who were waiting in the yard.
“We haven’t much time,” Hugh said. “I’ll have them bring out a tankard for everybody. Eleanor, I understand your cook provided us with victuals?”
She’d forgotten about the basket, since food was the last thing on her mind. “Yes. Sandwiches. The basket is in the coach.” She turned to retrieve it, but Hugh stopped her.
“Leave it. We’ll congregate there in a few minutes.”
Eleanor nodded and went off to locate the privy. When she’d finished, she found a barrel of water nearby for washing up. While she was rinsing her hands, something caught her eye. A bit of white fabric, which she initially assumed was a lost handkerchief, lay beneath a scraggly yew tree. Out of curiosity, she drew closer to investigate. It was then that she noticed the vivid red fabric, now torn and soiled, attached to the bit of white. Her heart rioting in her chest, she squatted down and picked it up.
It was Lili’s doll.
Eleanor didn’t know if she possessed the strength to stand up again. If her legs would hold her. But at length she stood, and they did. Clutching the doll to her chest, she made her way back to the front of the inn and found the others gathered around the carriage. Her father had opened the basket, and he, Ned, and Sarah, Eleanor’s maid, were all munching on sandwiches. Hugh stood alone, drinking from a tankard. Eleanor stopped before she reached them. Hugh looked up and saw her, tossed his drink to the ground, and came to her at once.
He grasped her arm. “You must sit before you fall down,” he said. “What is this you’re holding? What have you found?”
She felt the stares of the others. Somehow, Hugh shooed them away from the carriage and helped Eleanor inside, then climbed in and sat next to her. He started to speak, but before he got any words out, a great, racking sob burst from her. She dropped the doll and covered her face with her hands.
“Is this Lili’s doll, Eleanor? It looks like countless other dolls to me, but I can see you’ve recognized it, and most likely made the dress. You’ve taken such pains with it. It’s beautiful. Is that right?”
She nodded. “And the doll.” His voice was soft, almost crooning, and it soothed her. When she uncovered her face, Hugh handed her his handkerchief. “Lili loves her doll. She sleeps with it, carries it about. She would never leave it or throw it away. Someone took it from her. Maybe hurt her. Oh God, Hugh.”
Now he clutched her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “Look at me. They were probably in a hurry, and Mrs. Abbot took her to the privy. When they dashed off, Lili dropped the doll. It was most certainly an accident. Nothing more.”
“But what if—”
Hugh gave her a stern look. “I forbid any ‘what-ifs.’ Try to see this in a positive light. Now we know we’re on the right track. We know for certain they were here, at this very inn, which means there is no longer any doubt as to where they are headed. This is the proof we needed.”
Eleanor dabbed at her face with the handkerchief. “Very well. I’ll try to look at it that way.”
“Can you eat something, Eleanor? You need your strength for tomorrow. That is when we shall find our daughter, yes?”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Yes.”
“I’m not leaving this carriage until you’ve bitten into a sandwich.” He fished one out of the basket for her, then opened the carriage door and shouted to Ned. In a minute, Ned passed Hugh a tankard of ale.
She supposed she would be holding them up if she did not try to eat, so she dutifully took a bite and washed it down with some ale. After she’d repeated the process a few times, Hugh seemed satisfied.
“Well done,” he said, smiling. When he turned to climb out, Eleanor laid a hand on his arm.
“Hugh.” He paused and looked at her, eyebrow cocked. “I will always regret keeping Lili from you.”
Did his expression harden? He nodded and was gone so fast she could not judge his frame of mind.
The remainder of the trip flew past in a blur. Eleanor sat and stroked the doll, remembering her last visit with Lili, how she’d helped her to dress it in the ball gown. Her little hands had not quite been up to the task. Sarah, perched on the opposite seat, was knitting. Eleanor didn’t know how she could do so in such dim light.
Hugh was being quite kind. She could almost forgive him for his harsh words and his grim determination to remove Lili from her. But he hadn’t asked for her forgiveness, nor had he said anything about a change of heart. This whole episode further called into question Eleanor’s fitness as Lili’s mother.
It was of no consequence. Nothing mattered right now except finding Lili.
When they neared Portsmouth, the traffic increased. Eleanor glimpsed the cobalt blue of the sea shimmering in the distance and spotted riggings of some of the ships. The coach slowed and stopped, and she heard the men conferring. After a moment, the carriage door opened, and her father, after putting down the steps, motioned to her to descend. “Come, Norrie.”
For the first time, Eleanor swiveled around to take in her surroundings. The London Road had given way to the High Street in Portsmouth. The garrison, a looming fortress built of limestone, stretched in either direction. Hugh said, “Are you up to a short walk? The coach must be conveyed to the livery, and given the volume of traffic, we don’t want to attempt to drive it through Town.” Hugh offered his arm, but she pretended not to see.
“Of course,” she said, eyes seeking her father. He smiled at her, and she grasped his arm. She could not allow herself to want Hugh, to trust him, to lean on him, ever again. Depend on him she must, to find Lili. But there was no sense in pursuing an artificial closeness with him. After they’d secured the safety of their daughter, their relationship would become adversarial. He, the instrument of her loss, would become her enemy. She must not forget that, even temporarily.
After passing through the Landport Gate, they set off walking, jostled by the crowds. Naval officers in their blue coats with gold buttons, seamen in varying dress, all of them wearing cocked hats. Women of questionable virtue, dressed in their evening finery, strolled about. Eleanor tried not to gawk. Fishmongers, costermongers, and flower vendors were all hawking their wares, striving to be heard over the cacophony. Even at this hour, the road was heavily trafficked with drays, carts, and coaches jockeying for position, and in some cases, narrowly avoiding accidents. Eleanor’s confidence began to ebb. How could they ever find one little girl amid all this chaos?
After passing the Customs House and crossing a bridge, they took East Street to Broad Street, until they found the area where the hostelries were located. Her father explained they were at the Point, home of the vast dockyard. This was the part of Town in which they were most likely to find the Abbots, and thus Lili.
They secured rooms at the King’s Tower Inn, a reputable-looking establishment. “I’ll request a private dining parlor,” Hugh said. Although he seemed composed, Eleanor saw signs of exhaustion in the lines around his mouth and the tension in his expression. “Shall we meet here for supper in, say, a half hour?”
Eleanor and Sarah found their room. After the maid had helped her bathe and change, Eleanor flopped down on the bed. “I want to close my eyes for just a moment,” she said.
“But, miss, you hardly have time for that.”
Nonetheless, she fell into a deep abyss, and when Sarah roused her a mere fifteen minutes later, her mood was black.
…
When the group met for supper, Hugh realized they were all somewhat worse for wear. The deep grooves around Sir William’s mouth seemed more pronounced, and even Ned appeared haggard, while Eleanor’s eyes were puffy.
It was late, past ten o’clock now. Hugh had ordered a light collation. A servant brought in cold mutton and fowl, vegetables, bread, and cheese. And wine. Plenty of wine. He’d borrowed a map of the Point from the innkeeper and spread it out on the table. While they ate, he suggested a starting point for running Jacob Abbot to ground.
“We should start at the shipbuilding yard.” He tapped the location on the map. “That’s where the block mills are located, as well as any other labor that would involve carpentry.”
“Agreed,” Ned said. “But how do we approach them? We can’t simply wander in and look around for Abbot. There must be hundreds of men employed in the yard.”
There was general agreement with Ned’s statement. “Surely they have offices,” Sir William said. “We can start there.”
Eleanor’s voice cut into the self-assured ones of the men. “You do realize that Edith Abbot will be the one looking after Lili? And she won’t be anywhere near the dockyard. She’ll be somewhere in this maze of streets, in lodgings. Or perhaps in a park.”
Hugh winced. Leave it to Eleanor to get to the heart of the matter. “Of course, you’re right. But, unless we find her husband, how will we find her and Lili? I had thought to locate Abbot and follow him.”
“While two of us are pursuing the lead at the block mills, others can be checking on the most likely areas where they might have taken rooms,” Ned said. “And visit parks, the quay, anyplace a mother might take a child.” He swept a hand over the pertinent areas of the map.
“Eleanor, can you give us a description of Mrs. Abbot?” Hugh asked.
“Of course.” She smiled. “Look for a woman who is heavy with child. She would be approaching confinement if she were in normal circumstances. But keeping a child Lili’s age in rooms all day would be difficult, so I don’t believe the usual rules would apply.”
Broxton chimed in. “She’s a small woman, brown haired. Unfortunately, no truly distinguishing features.”
“One thing,” Eleanor said. “She has a mole, just here.” She pointed to a spot above one corner of her mouth, by her nose. “The left side.”
Hugh hated to ask the next question in front of the group, but it couldn’t be helped. “And Lili. Describe her, if you will.” He heard the coldness in his voice, and so would everybody else.
Tears welled in Eleanor’s eyes, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. If he weren’t so deuced angry with her, he would wrap his arms around her and try to comfort her.
Looking at him straight on, she said, “Lili has your coloring, Hugh. Dark hair, dark brown eyes. She is nearly two years old and is quite lively.”
Hugh held Eleanor’s gaze. He’d been so sure Lili would resemble Eleanor, not him. He couldn’t help what burst out next. “She doesn’t look like you, then? I had expected she would.”
The others had gone quiet, but after a moment, some judicious throat clearing interrupted the private moment between Hugh and Eleanor. Ned said, “Is she talking?”
“Oh my, yes. She’s making sentences, quite coherent ones. She knows my dog, Bobby. If you should find her, ask her if she would like to play with Bobby. And see her mama.” She blushed and lowered her head.
It struck Hugh then that Eleanor must see a good deal of Lili. In the throes of his anger, he had imagined she visited the child rarely. But he was wrong. She knew things about Lili that she couldn’t possibly know unless she saw her regularly. “She is close in age to my nephew, then,” Hugh said.
“Yes.” He could see that Eleanor was on the verge of weeping, and he wasn’t feeling too well in control of his emotions, either. He cleared his throat. “The hour grows late, and we should all get some rest.
“If we agree, in the morning Ned and I will take the dockyard, since we can both identify Abbot. Sir William, Adam, and Eleanor will divide up the streets and be on the lookout for Mrs. Abbot and Lili. You can ask the innkeeper about parks or other likely places small children might be taken by their nursemaids or parents before you set out.”
Wearily, they agreed to the plan.
“One thing we haven’t discussed,” Sir William said. “What do we do with Abbot when we find him? Turn him over to the magistrate?”
“I’ve been debating that,” Hugh said. “He’s guilty of several serious offenses. Arson. Extortion. And now, kidnapping. And we’ve yet to discover his motive for it, since there have been no demands for money.”
“As much as I despise the man,” Eleanor said, “I have sympathy for his wife. What will happen to her if he’s transported, or hanged?”
Hugh nodded, looking her in the eye. “I’ve thought the same thing. But perhaps arrangements could be made to offer her aid.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “We have time yet to think on it.”
It was after eleven o’clock when they began to wander off to their beds. Hugh asked Eleanor to remain behind for a moment. She nodded, although she didn’t seem happy about it. He was not sure why he wished to speak to her, but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. For the first time, the vague abstraction of a child seemed more real to him. He was father to a two-year-old child, and she was that child’s mother. Despite everything, he loved her. God, how he loved her. For the last week, he’d been denying it to himself, but it was no use.
“I know you are tired, and I won’t keep you long,” he said. Guiltily, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes.
She resumed her seat. “What is it, Hugh?”
Not a good beginning. Especially when he wasn’t sure what he wished to say. “I wanted you to know that I…perhaps…that is, I may have spoken too hastily and too harshly when I confronted you about Lili. I should have waited until I’d had time to sort matters out. Instead, I rushed to judgment and said some unforgivable things.” He hesitated, because Eleanor’s expression hadn’t softened one iota. He couldn’t blame her. He sounded weak and tentative.
When she made no response, he bumbled on. “I can see you are an excellent mother, in the circumstances. I’ve recently learned that mothers oftentimes cannot do as they might wish where children are concerned. And I’ve come to believe they should be forgiven for it.”
“What do you mean? How did you learn this?”
“I found some letters my mother sent me after she left Longmere. My father had never given them to me. All these years, I’ve thought she didn’t give a damn about me.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “And one night when I was at Adam’s, Wesley, my father’s old butler, mentioned that my mother had tried over the years to visit me, but Father had forbidden it. I never knew any of this.”
“So you’ve forgiven your mother and now believe you should forgive me. I do hope, for both your sakes, that you can reconcile. However, my life will carry on, even if you never forgive me. As I tried to explain, I did the best I could for Lili. I love my daughter more than my life, and at present, my chief concern is finding her.”
Hugh sighed. He seemed unable to say what was in his heart. Her words, her feelings, confused him. He’d meant this to be an apology, but he’d ended up sounding like God doling out absolution.
Abruptly, Eleanor pushed back her chair and stood. “What about seeking custody of Lili? Are you going to carry on with that plan?”
Because of his confusion, and her coldness, and the fact that he was weary to the bone, he said, “Yes.”
She spun on her heel and exited the room, leaving him bewildered.
Christ. How could things have gone so wrong? He slammed his wineglass into the hearth. The shards glowed like hellfire.