The Duke of Wintercrest paced continually in his office. He had become more and more irritable of late, and the hustle around the house this morning only seemed to sour his mood further. He was the reason for all the excitement in the manor and probably should have been happy for it. However, he was most certainly not.
It had now been a fortnight since Isabella’s departure and he felt that little had been done in that time.
One small accomplishment for the duke had been to convince his mother to go to London for the season and host her lavish ball there, in the town residence. She had resisted, at first, knowing full well that his reasoning was Isabella.
With a change of venue, the whole event would need to be pushed back from its pre-season timetable. It would give the duke more time, and the vicinity, to regain acquaintance with Isabella and clear her name.
Now, the house was abuzz with preparations for their departure that morning. The duke, however, refused to leave without seeing the morning post. He was expecting a significant letter that he hoped would turn everything around for him.
Over the last four weeks, the duke had been sharing correspondence with Mr. Jenkins, unknown to either his family or Isabella.
Mr. Jenkins had first hoped to produce a solicitor that had worked for Mr. Smith to destroy his allegation. Such man was nowhere to be found. Though his sudden disappearance was questionable, it wasn’t enough to prove foul play.
A few days after Isabella fled, Mrs. Peterson handed the duke a letter addressed to her. He was appalled at the words written therein and couldn’t believe that, for the past months, Isabella had been subjected to such vile writings.
He had immediately sent the letter on to Mr. Jenkins. It clearly proved the scoundrel harbored ill intent toward Isabella. The duke was concerned because the letter was not signed, but hoped that at least through some sort of writing comparison, Mr. Jenkins could prove the ill character of the man and his clear intent to harm Isabella.
“Your Grace, a letter has just arrived, as you hoped,” Mr. Larson said, holding a parchment on a silver tray.
"Thank you,” he said as he took the letter greedily.
To the Duke of Wintercrest
Your Grace,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. Am I to understand that you will shortly be joining the ranks of this most humble servant here in London?
I will be most glad for the much shorter distance our correspondence will have to travel. I can honestly say that your contributions in this delicate endeavor have made a significant difference.
I am happy to inform you that I have compared the letter that was addressed to Miss Watts, to writing I already had on hand from the offending gentlemen. I, myself, see it as a clear match.
To solidify this case, I have gotten the written word of three others to confirm that the handwritings do match. Without a name at the bottom, though, we cannot but hope that this will prove our case.
I am also glad to inform you that we have also found a second fault to Mr. Smith’s claims. It has come to my attention that, just after acquiring full ownership of Baron Leinster’s shipment company and all his estate with it, Mr. Smith made a large investment.
He made this investment through the mercantile company for the shipment of goods back from the recently lost colonies. He foolishly thought that he could invest in a large shipment of textiles from the country and make a market on it,whilst others were still unwilling do so in the still unfriendly political atmosphere.
In the end, the ships he sent never returned, no doubt now living their lives out in the Virginias. He lost a great deal of money, not only what he invested in the venture, but also what he had expected to gain out of it.
According to my sources, Mr. Smith had no means, within the company, to fund such an ill-planned venture. It is my calculation that he used the selling of the late Baron’s goods and home to fund his expedition.
He, no doubt, thought that he would see a return in his investment before needing to use the money for its actual purpose.
With no way to pay back the debtors now calling on him, Mr. Smith turned to the claim that Miss Watts had stolen from him, rendering him unable to pay any debts.
Though he does have to prove that Miss Watts took the locket after strict instructions not to do so, I am confident that it will not be enough to prove her guilt, as Mr. Smith hopes.
I am hopeful, as I take our case before a court later this week, that in due time, justice will be served. I have little doubt that Miss Watts will be cleared of all charges in no more than a year’s time.
Your Humble Servant,
Mr. Abram Jenkins
The duke sat down in his chair as he read over the letter a second time.
“A year,” he breathed out loud, setting the letter on the desk.
Most certainly, the duke could wait as much time as was needed before he again engaged Isabella, but he couldn’t imagine her suffering a whole year, living as she now did.
Though the duke was reassured that the Earl and Lady Gilcrest were taking good care of her, she was most certainly bound to the four walls of their house. There would be no party, no gathering that she would be accepted to. The longer this vile Mr. Smith kept his accusations up, the more irreversible the situation would become for her.
The Duke of Wintercrest would not stand by a whole year, while Isabella waited in house arrest for her name to be cleared. He wasn’t sure how he would do it, but he would find a way to rectify the situation while in London himself.
He was also determined to do it before his mother’s grand event, so that Isabella would be there by his side when the time finally came.
The trip to London was long and laborious for the duke, who could not seem to find any more patience for the whole situation. He sat next to his mother who was deeply enthralled in her embroidery, while his sister and niece sat across from him, biding their time with books and card games.
Lady Abigail had taken on much of Jacqueline’s education in the absence of her governess. Though she was not very well trained in the art of teaching, she happily spent most of her mornings and afternoons in the schoolroom with Jackie, doing her best to pick up where Isabella had left off.
“Will I get to see Miss Watts?” Jacqueline asked, the afternoon they came into the city. “She said in her letter that she loved me dearly. Doesn’t that mean she will want to see me while I am here?”
Lady Abigail looked to her mother and brother across the carriage. Though the whole of the party was aware of Miss Isabella Watts’ presence in London, it was also an unspoken fact that they wouldn’t be able to see her.
“I am sure that Miss Watts would want to see you. I am afraid, however, that it just might not be possible,” Lady Abigail said, as delicately as possible.
She looked back to her brother who was now sternly staring out the carriage window. She watched the muscles in his jaw as he tightened them.
“Why ever not?” Jacqueline asked.
“Because,” Lady Abigail said, turning back to the child, “you will be so busy with all the wonderful things to see and pretty frocks to buy, that I don’t suppose you will have a moment to spare.”
“I would always find a moment for Miss Watts,” Jacqueline said. She knew the answer to her question wouldn’t change no matter what she said. She leaned her golden head on her aunt’s shoulder, “I miss her so much. It’s as if I left mother all over again.”
Lady Abigail placed her arm around the child and did her best to comfort her. The silence in the carriage from that moment on was deafening.
As soon as the carriage came to the townhouse, the duke went straight to his office to pen a letter. He wanted to inform Mr. Jenkins that he had arrived in London and that Mr. Jenkins should expect a call from him in the morning.
The duke stayed in his office for the remainder of the night, not even joining the family for an evening meal. He could sense Isabella’s closeness and his hands turned to brush her cheek again.
He locked himself in the office for fear that if he walked out, he would continue to do so till he found himself before the residence of the Earl of Gilcrest. He knew he must wait and pace himself.
First, he would meet with Mr. Jenkins, then he would put into practice the plan he had developed on the long ride over.
It wasn’t a plan to see Mr. Smith behind bars, something he would most like to do, but it was a way to end it all and again have Isabella as his future bride.