Chapter Twenty-One
Landon and Opal put the paintings in the wardrobe in his bedchamber so neither Miss Kesner nor the maid would be able to use them again. He was about to ask Opal if she felt safe enough to stay in her bedchamber while he searched for the two ladies when a knock came from the door that led to the hallway.
“Wait here,” he told Opal.
Once he opened the door, the butler said, “There is a lady who wishes to speak with either you or your wife about something she thinks is important. Her name is Miss Tumilson.”
“We’ll be there in a moment,” Landon replied.
After the butler headed down the hallway, Landon shut the door and returned to Opal. “Did you hear that?”
She nodded. “I met Miss Tumilson, but it was only one time. Miss Kesner used to be her mother’s lady’s maid.”
Really? Then this could give them some light on the situation they were dealing with. “Do you want to go down there with me?”
“Yes. I’d like to know what she has to say.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the room and down the stairs. They reached the drawing room just as the butler was placing tea on the table in front of Miss Tumilson.
Landon waited until the butler shut the doors of the drawing room before he brought Opal over to the settee.
“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Tumilson,” Opal said as she poured tea into the cups. “How have you been doing?”
“I’m a little lonely since my mother passed away, but I’m all right.” Miss Tumilson accepted the cup Opal handed her. “I came here because I found something yesterday while I was going through Mother’s belongings. I think it might be something you need to read.” She showed Opal a neatly folded missive, which Landon just now realized she’d been clasping in her hand.
Opal accepted it and opened it.
“I don’t know if it is important or not,” Miss Tumilson added. “I might be making a bigger deal of it than it really is. I have a tendency to do that from time to time. I’ll read something, and I think it’s something serious. But later I find out it wasn’t as important as I thought it was.”
Unable to hide his curiosity any longer, Landon peered over Opal’s shoulder and read the missive. It was written to Miss Kesner, and it said she might find it profitable if she were to come under the employment of Lord Farewell or his new wife. The gentleman then told Miss Kesner where she could talk with him for more details if she wanted. Down at the bottom, it was signed by Mr. Hamilton.
“I don’t know anyone by the name of Mr. Hamilton,” Opal said. “Why would he tell Miss Kesner to come here for employment?”
Miss Tumilson shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard of him, either.”
Landon’s gaze went to the date on the missive. “He wrote it right after we married,” he told Opal. When both ladies looked in his direction, he cleared his throat. “I met Mr. Hamilton, but I only talked to him one time. He approached me right before we married. He wanted me to let him rent thith townhouth. I told him no. He didn’t like my reply, but he never approached me again.”
Opal’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did he say why he wanted to rent this townhouse?”
“He claimed he wanted to be near family,” he replied. “I didn’t believe him.”
“You think he was lying?”
He nodded.
“But why would he do that?” Opal asked.
“I have a better quethtion. Why would he write that?” He gestured to the missive in her hand. “I think if we know that, then we’ll know everything elth.”
Her eyes lit up with understanding. “I think you’re right.” She turned her attention back to Miss Tumilson. “This missive is important. Thank you for bringing it to our intention.”
“Will everything be all right?” Miss Tumilson asked, her brow wrinkled in concern.
“Yes, it will be,” Opal assured her. “Thanks to you.”
“I want to talk to your brother about it,” Landon told her. “Would you like to remain here?”
Opal glanced at Miss Tumilson and nodded. “I would. Miss Tumilson has been gracious to me in the past, and she’s showing us a kindness now by giving us this missive. I’d like to sit and visit with her for a while.”
“Do you mind if I go to your brother now?”
“No. I feel comfortable with everything.”
Glad she was assured of her sanity, he gave the small of her back a pat, thanked Miss Tumilson, and took the missive. On his way out, he shut the drawing room doors and left the townhouse.
Guy didn’t know Mr. Hamilton, but Warren might. Or, at the very least, Warren might know who Mr. Hamilton was. He probably should have asked Warren about the gentleman that night he went to Warren’s dinner party right before the wedding. But his nerves had gotten in the way, and he’d forgotten all about him.
How was he to know Mr. Hamilton would work with Miss Kesner to try to make Opal think she was losing her mind? And why would he do such a thing? Because he wanted Opal to go to the country to visit her brother’s grave? Landon couldn’t think of a single reason why paintings of a ghost and a graveyard would be in the den otherwise. Nor could he find another reason to explain the missive from her dead brother or the fact that his ‘ghost’ appeared in her bedchamber.
Now the lad lying to him about Thalia made sense. The maid and Miss Kesner needed him out of the way so they could set up the paintings, the missive, and the ghostly visitor. If they were going to get to Opal, they needed him to be out of the townhouse. Otherwise, he might see something, and that would ruin their plans. The fact that they had restricted their activities to the bedchambers and the den told him not all of the staff were in on the scheme.
By the time he arrived at Warren’s townhouse, he realized the whole elaborate plan was to drive him and Opal out of Lady Chadwick’s townhouse. But why? What was so important about her townhouse that Mr. Hamilton had to be in it?
Fortunately, Warren was there to speak with him.
“Do you know Mr. Hamilton?” Landon asked as soon as he saw the gentleman. He had considered starting with the normal pleasantries, but he was too impatient to do so.
“Mr. Hamilton?” Warren asked.
Landon proceeded to describe him the best he could. He was in the middle of explaining the gentleman’s long nose when Warren stopped him.
“I know of the gentleman you’re referring to,” Warren said. “He’s been trying to get into White’s for years, but he can’t get enough votes. Why? Is he giving you trouble?”
“Not directly.”
From there, Landon explained everything that had been happening with Opal, deciding he wouldn’t bother worrying about his lisp because doing so would take too long to describe the situation. As had been the case with Miss Tumilson, this situation was much too important to agonize over every single word he spoke. If he lisped and it bothered them, then they were just going to have to deal with it.
By the time he was done, Warren’s jaw was hanging open in shock. “Why would anyone want to make Opal think she’s losing her mind?”
“I think they want Opal and me to get out of the townhouth,” Landon said. “I think Lady Chadwick left thomething important there.”
“Something important that Mr. Hamilton wants?”
Landon nodded and showed him the missive Miss Tumilson had given him and Opal. “No other thing would explain the letter he wrote Mith Kethner.”
Warren read the missive, eyebrows furrowed. “When did Opal start noticing the strange things that were going on?”
Landon thought back to the day when Opal insisted the inkwells had been switched around. “After Mith Kethner came under our employment.”
“The timing certainly is suspicious.” Warren shook his head. “Poor Opal. So many things have gone wrong for her.”
Landon was about to ask if Warren considered his marriage to Opal to be one of those things, but then Warren continued speaking.
“Thankfully, she has you,” Warren said, setting his mind at ease. After a moment, he asked, “How is she doing today?”
“Better now that we know about Mr. Hamilton. I’d like to find everyone who ith working with him.”
“I would, too. I’d especially like to know who is pretending to be Byron. Mr. Hamilton doesn’t look like Byron.”
That reminded Landon… He pulled the missive out of his pocket that Opal had given him. “Opal found it attached to a painting in the den.”
Warren took it, his eyes growing wide. “This is Byron’s handwriting. Did she think Byron really wrote this?”
“No. Opal thought the letter wath in her mind.”
“Somehow, Mr. Hamilton or someone he knows found out about Byron.”
“And they were trying to get her to leave London. Everything that happened to Opal ith about the townhouth.”
“The question is, how are we going to prove it?”
“I’d like your help doing that.”
“I’ll help you,” Warren promised. After a moment, he added, “Let’s bring Opal here and discuss what we should do. She’ll need to be a part of this since they’re trying to make her think she’s losing her mind.”
“Opal will be glad when we get the matter taken care of.”
“I bet she will.”
Without another word, the two left the townhouse to get Opal.
***
The next afternoon as Opal sat in front of her vanity, she couldn’t help but wonder if Miss Kesner and the maid would do something to make her believe she was losing her mind. Landon had made sure the maid was nearby when he told Opal he would be gone for a few hours.
After he left, Opal spent an hour in the drawing room, pretending to read a book. She chose the drawing room since nothing strange had ever happened in that room, and leaving the doors opened allowed her to catch sight of any of the staff who happened to be passing by. She suspected there was a reason the maid and Miss Kesner were only using the den and the bedchambers.
The plan Landon and Warren came up with was fairly simple. Landon was using the hour she was in the drawing room to get Warren and the detective they had hired yesterday. The three gentlemen then planned to sneak into the townhouse and hide in her and Landon’s bedchambers. Landon would hide under her bed while Warren and the detective would be in Landon’s bedchamber. The detective had said he suspected most of the activity would be going on in Landon’s bedchamber since the knocking had been coming from there.
Once Opal was sure the gentlemen had enough time to hide in there, she went to her bedchamber and summoned Miss Kesner to help her get ready for dinner. Now, as Miss Kesner brushed her hair, Opal wondered if anything would happen. Would there be knocking? Would the door open on its own? Would Miss Kesner deny it? Or would Miss Kesner and the maid not try something today?
This was the first opportunity they had where they would believe Landon wasn’t anywhere nearby to see or hear what they were doing. Surely, they would do something. They wouldn’t want this opportunity to slip by them, especially since she had told Landon, “Maybe we should spend a little time in the country,” as Miss Kesner was styling her hair that morning. Landon, in turn, pretended to be reluctant to leave London. Warren and Landon had been sure if they did that, then Miss Kesner would tell the maid. Then the two would assume their efforts were working and try something at the first moment Landon wasn’t around.
“You’re tense,” Miss Kesner said, breaking Opal out of her thoughts.
Opal glanced at Miss Kesner’s reflection in the mirror. Miss Kesner gave her the impression of being concerned, though there was the aloof politeness that accompanied just about everything else she did. Opal cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”
It was what Opal would have said if she still believed she was losing her mind, so she figured it was the best response to give her. She hoped that Miss Kesner would assume she worried that she might see or hear something that wasn’t really there. She wasn’t sure how good she was at pretending she was filled with the same nervous dread she’d been dealing with for the past couple of weeks.
At the moment, she was trying not to show how angry she was at Miss Kesner for putting her through so much turmoil. Did Miss Kesner know what Opal had been through in the past with her mother? Could she possibly know how much crueler her plan had been because of it?
Miss Kesner finished brushing her hair and began pinning it back into an attractive style.
A knock came from the door separating her bedchamber with Landon’s. Instinctively, Opal turned her head to the door, and the pin slipped from Miss Kesner’s hand and landed on the floor.
Opal looked at her bed and then at Miss Kesner, worried that Miss Kesner might realize Landon was under her bed and watching the entire thing. But Miss Kesner’s gaze never went to the bed. Opal breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the mirror.
Another knock came as Miss Kesner stood back up. Opal studied Miss Kesner’s reflection, trying to determine if there was a sign—ever so slight—that gave away the fact that she was hearing the knocking, even though she’d never admit it.
Opal waited for the next knock, but instead, the doorknob turned. But Opal kept her focus on Miss Kesner’s reflection, and as the door creaked opened, she noticed the telltale wrinkle in Miss Kesner’s forehead. The action happened so fast that she almost missed it.
Remaining still, Opal’s eyes went to the door. It creaked open further, but she didn’t see anyone on the other side.
“Opal,” came a whisper from behind the door.
This was new. The maid and Miss Kesner had decided to do more this time. She shouldn’t be surprised. If they thought what they had done so far was working and since she hadn’t convinced Landon to leave for the country yet, they needed to add a new element to make her panic enough to insist that Landon take her out of London.
“Do you hear that?” Opal asked Miss Kesner, just to make sure this was part of the scheme—that it wasn’t Warren or the detective calling out to her.
“Hear what, my lady?” Miss Kesner asked.
So it was part of their scheme. “Someone called my name from my husband’s bedchamber.”
“Opal,” came another whisper.
“There. They did it again,” Opal said. “It’s a whisper.”
Miss Kesner stopped pinning her hair and waited. After several long moments, someone whispered her name again.
“Right then,” Opal said. “Didn’t you hear it?”
Miss Kesner shook her head. “I’m sorry, my lady. I don’t hear anything.” Then, placing a hand on her shoulder as if trying to comfort her, she added, “Are you feeling all right? Do you need to lie down?”
The door opened further, and this time Opal saw someone peeking into her bedchamber. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t be sure from the limited view she had of him, but it looked like the gentleman who’d been disguised as Byron’s ghost the other day. He opened the door further, and sure enough, it was the same person. He had the same ghostly appearance.
If she hadn’t known Landon was hiding under the bed, she would have felt a chill crawl up her spine. Even though she knew it wasn’t really Byron’s ghost staring mournfully at her, they had done a good job of making him look like it.
“You don’t look well,” Miss Kesner told her. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down for a while? Maybe some rest will do you good.”
The gentleman stepped into the room, still staring at Opal with that haunting expression on his face. “I’m lonely,” he whispered. “Why don’t you visit me?”
“Because you can’t visit someone who’s dead,” came Warren’s voice from behind the gentleman.
Opal’s gaze went to her brother. Miss Kesner stiffened behind her, and the gentleman spun around to face Warren.
“I think we have all we need,” Landon said as he came out from under the bed.
“Yes, we do,” Detective Hall added from Landon’s bedchamber.
Opal rose to her feet so she could see the detective. His hand was wrapped around the maid’s arm so she couldn’t run out of the room.
Opal turned back to Miss Kesner. “Why would you do this to me?”
“I can tell you the answer to that,” the detective said when Miss Kesner refused to look at her. “But I think it’s best if we discuss this in the drawing room. The others are waiting for us there.”
Others? What others? Besides Mr. Hamilton, she had no idea who was behind this elaborate scheme to make her think she was losing her mind. Landon took her by the hand and led her out of the bedchamber and into the hallway as the others joined them.
She chanced a look at Miss Kesner, who still refused to make eye contact with her. Had her gut instinct been warning her about the lady the entire time? Was that why she never felt comfortable with her?
Then she glanced at the maid and the gentleman who looked so much like Byron. Just who else had been involved in this? And, more importantly, why? Well, she would find out soon enough. In silence, the group went to the drawing room.