Chapter 19
“What are you doing here?” Blackthorn said, holding back his anger. He’d just finished his breakfast in his study when he’d heard the commotion in the foyer and went to investigate the ruckus. His mother’s footman was bringing in her bags and belongings, with her maid trailing behind her.
“I’m here to help with the wedding, of course,” his mother said. “You don’t expect me to not be involved, do you?”
“We agreed you would stay in Blackthorn Hall.”
“No, dear boy. I never agreed to anything.”
“My God, how many servants do you lug around with you?”
“As many as I need,” she said. “Now, take those up to my room, dear girl. Tell the housekeeper I will have a menu ready for her tonight.”
“There won’t be a grand wedding. I am acquiring a special license to marry in the privacy of my home. Then we’re off to Scotland to meet her grandmother.”
His mother’s mouth opened as if to argue with him. “Is this what she wants?”
“Yes, we both agreed on this.”
“But she is an heiress. Her family will not want this.”
“Her grandmother wants a quick wedding, believe me in this.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is she with child?”
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but no.”
“This woman cannot know what she is missing. She must have a grand wedding. I have already informed my friends and family members of this grand news.”
“You’ll just have to un-inform them.”
“I will do no such thing. Do you know the scandal this will cause?” She paced the room. “I must speak to your fiancée.”
“No.” He stepped up to his mother. “You will not speak to her. Or approach her without my permission,” he said with sudden protectiveness.
“Don’t speak to me with that tone. I am still your mother.”
“My mother?” he said. “Yes, you are. Tell me, where were you when Max died, and when he was asking for you after you left us? When Father asked for you to come to Max’s funeral? Where were you when Father died?”
“I . . . I . . .” she said in a bereaved tone. “I wanted to come, but you know how your father was. He could be cruel and heartless. You know this firsthand.”
“So, you didn’t come because you didn’t want to face your husband?”
“You cannot know the misery that man put me through.”
“Enough of this,” Blackthorn said. “When I return home, I don’t want you here. Now, return to Blackthorn Hall today.”
He had no time to argue with his mother further. Sooner or later he would have to make her understand he had no intention of staying in London. Shaking his head, he ordered his baffled butler to assist until he came home later.
Amelia woke to an empty bed in the early morning.
Richard had slipped out in the middle of the night without waking her. While she had hoped he would stay, she told herself it was better that he’d left. It would be utterly awkward to face him in the morning. In fact, she wanted to pretend last night had never happened.
“What are your plans today?” Kate asked, sipping hot chocolate across from her in the morning room. “Will you see Lord Blackthorn?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Amelia said. She tried to avoid extensive conversation with Kate, because eventually Kate would discover what she had done with Richard, and she wasn’t ready to share that experience with anyone yet.
“Hmm, an interesting answer,” Kate said. “You’re awfully strange this morning.” Kate put her cup down on her saucer.
“I am?” Amelia said. “Where is Mrs. Pots, anyway? I haven’t seen her this morning.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It is,” she said. Perhaps the woman finally understood that Amelia really did not need her. Perhaps she didn’t want to face the earl insisting that she come along on every excursion. Either way, Amelia was happy to be free of her. “Do you have plans?” She needed to take the conversation away from herself.
“Actually, I have a friend who arrived from Boston this morning. I just received a note from him.”
This was a rarity. Kate had seldom spoken of her friends or her past to Amelia before. “That’s wonderful news. Perhaps we can have tea together in the afternoon.”
Kate shook her head. “He is here on business and will not have much time. I am meeting him at the Grillon Hotel in an hour. He is staying only for a few days, then he will be heading up to Norfolk to see relatives.”
Amelia would have liked to meet one of Kate’s friends. But she knew Richard would be coming for her soon to look for Cook. Hopefully sooner than later, as she was ready to leave now.
It was nearly ten in the morning when Richard came to call. Finally, Mrs. Pots greeted the earl when she walked down the stairs, but said nothing else before she left the foyer. Good; the woman at least knew how to behave in the presence of an earl.
While Amelia grabbed her bonnet, gloves, and spencer jacket, he waited quietly in the foyer. Too quietly. From the way he stood there, it was as if nothing had transpired between them last night. This realization irked her. Irked and embarrassed her.
“You look lovely this morning,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He led her to the carriage parked outside.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“Then why are we in this carriage?”
“You’re going to tell me everything you know about Cook; then I will inquire about this man on my own.”
“Didn’t we already discuss this?” She was beginning to wonder if he took her words seriously. Why was she in such a foul mood this morning, anyway? “I am going with you.”
He sighed heavily. “My sweet—"
“No, please don’t call me that,” she barked. “I am going with you.”
He observed her most curiously. “You are brusque this morning.”
“So are you, might I add.” She took several breaths to calm herself. “I am merely expressing my concern and if I happen to be short this morning, then so be it.” She breathed in slowly. “Why is it so difficult for you to understand I need to be part of this?” This was a risk, she knew. A risk she had to take, as sooner or later he’d discover the truth about her birth, that she was the daughter of a whore. It was as if this were a real engagement, a real marriage, she thought with a stab to her heart.
“You want to know the truth?” he said with a grimace. “I can’t do my job and get things accomplished when you’re with me.”
“Why? Because you don’t care to involve me in your affairs?”
“No, bloody woman,” he blurted out. “Because I fear for your safety and I need to be clearheaded in this.”
“Oh,” she said. “Why didn’t you say so?” He didn’t want baggage or to have to worry about her. Thoughtful, she thought, but still she would rather go with him. It would be lovely to see Cook again.
“Must you always fight me?” he said. When she opened her mouth to speak, he kissed her quite passionately for a long minute, reminding her of how they had been together last night. “Trust me. I will find Cook if he is in London.”
“All right, I will remain home this time.”
She spent about an hour telling Richard everything she knew of Cook while the carriage drove around Hyde Park. Where he worked and who he knew. She kept quiet about the more intimate stories that would reveal her past. The morsels Cook had given her when she had been hungry. How he had always made her feel safe and made her laugh. Her mother had often cried on his shoulder too, and Amelia used to wonder what had caused her so much sorrow. Richard did not need to know that. She touched the necklace her mother had given her, wondering why her mother had never written one letter, or attempted to visit her.
“Is that all?” Richard asked.
“Yes,” she said, touching the stone on her silver necklace again.
“It’s special to you.”
“What is?”
“The necklace,” he said. “I never see you without it.”
She sighed. “I suppose it was, once. I guess it’s out of habit, more than anything, that I keep putting it on every morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure. I should get rid of it,” she said with a pang of hurt pricking her heart. The carriage came to a stop in front of her townhouse. “We could have easily spoken in the parlor.”
“I suppose, but I wanted you to myself this morning, even for a brief moment.”
“Richard,” she said. “About last night…”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, and helped her off the carriage.
It took him half a day to track down Cook. He had not been at the pub Amelia had told him about. He found Cook a mile away at another pub where he had been working in the kitchen for nearly a year. Blackthorn met with an overweight man in his fifties donning an apron.
Initially Cook had been reluctant to say anything about Millie, but when Blackthorn revealed that Amelia was his fiancée, Cook spoke without reservation. He spoke of her mother, Amelia’s childhood, and Millie.
Blackthorn’s heart tugged at the brutal childhood Amelia and Millie must have endured in the slums of St. Giles among the murderers and thieves. A sense of admiration pulled at his heartstrings, too. After about an hour of talking, Cook mentioned Philip.
“Philip Kendall?” Blackthorn asked. When Cook nodded, he asked, “What about him?”
“He used to come and look fer Millie ‘ere. He liked her all right. I told her it wasn’t a good idea, told her many times. She wouldn’t listen and now look wot happened. She’s with child and missing. Damn girl. I told ‘er not to get herself involved with him.”
This was going to get a lot more complicated with Philip involved. While he was a decent young man, he allowed his father to dictate his life. Surely his father would hate to have this information revealed to the public. Philip’s father would most likely do just about anything to hide this shame.
Blackthorn thanked the man and left the pub. If he recalled, Sir Kendall had a membership at White’s. While Sir Kendall spent time at the club, Blackthorn wasn’t certain about Philip. Perhaps he’d go and speak with the owner. His father had had a membership there and knew the family, so it wouldn't be difficult to find out.
Entering the private club, he was quickly greeted by an impeccably dressed footman.
“Will you be requiring your private room, my lord?” he asked.
“No, I won’t be staying long,” Blackthorn said. “Has Mr. Philip Kendall been here?”
“I believe Sir Kendall and Mr. Kendall arrived an hour ago,” he said, looking toward a seat next to the window.
Blackthorn followed his gaze and saw one man, his back to him. “I changed my mind. Can you inform Mr. Philip Kendall I’d like to speak to him in my private room?” he said. “Discreetly.”
With that done, he walked to the back of the club where the private rooms for exclusive members were located. He ensconced himself, poured himself a scotch, and downed it in one gulp, waiting. Within five minutes, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
The door swung opened and Philip came in to join him. “This is a surprise,” he said. “I don’t often get invited to drink in such an exclusive part of the club.”
These rooms were reserved for lords and persons of great influence. “It’s been a long time. Sit.”
Philip eagerly sat across from Blackthorn and ordered his drink from the private footman stationed outside the door. Blackthorn waited until Philip had his drink.
They exchanged pleasantries and talked about Blackthorn’s recent engagement and the war. Philip shared the news of his engagement to Lady Lucinda and how pleased his father was.
“Are you pleased with the engagement?” Blackthorn asked.
Philip nodded. “She is exquisite. I am pleased, actually. Yes, I am very pleased.” There was something disconcerting in his expression.
“Then why do I sense hesitation in your tone?” Blackthorn was never one to shy away from getting to the truth. In fact, he believed in getting to the point. Easier that way. “Does this have anything to do with Millie Penn?”
It was then that Philip’s expression changed. “How do you know that name?”
“That isn’t the issue here,” Blackthorn said, leaning forward to look at the young man who was now nervous. “Listen carefully, because I won’t repeat what I am going to tell you. Millie is with child and she is missing. If you have any information about her, I need to know.”
“She is with child?”
Blackthorn watched Philip get up and pace the room, raking his hair nervously.
“How many months?”
“I don’t know.”
“My father cannot know this,” he said anxiously. “He will murder me.”
The woman in the prison had said that Millie had gone to see her lover and he had tossed her out. “So you knew nothing about this?”
Philip shook his head.
There was only one man who could have done this. Sir Kendall. The young man looked so frightened that Blackthorn decided to spare him the details and how his father may be involved in all this. It must have been Sir Kendall that kicked her out of his property when she came to see Philip. That didn’t mean Sir Kendall would resort to kidnapping and murder, but self-preservation was a powerful force. Blackthorn knew this firsthand.
Perhaps the girl was in hiding. But he knew oftentimes a woman like her didn’t have many places to go. The likelihood that Sir Kendall was involved in her disappearance was high.
“She loves me, and I would have married her, if not for my father,” Philip said. “I am an only child and son. I cannot disappoint the man.”
“Are you aware she came to see you?” Blackthorn said.
He shook his head. “No.”
Blackthorn understood that, too. There was shame in his expression. This young man needed to grow a spine. “I am not telling you to confront your father,” he stated. “But I need you to be aware and keep an eye open for Millie. If you hear anything, let me know.”
“I will,” he said. “How are you involved in this?”
“I am doing this as a favor to a friend.”