What Rumours Don't Say Read online

  “Now, lie still or you will give me no choice but to deal you another blow and bring you to the authorities,” Reeve threatened.

  The man complied, seemingly wise enough to understand his situation.

  “And tell me what you have against me and my wife.”

  The man sneered at Reeve. “Kill me if you want, but if you don’t, I promise I won’t stop until I make you pay for killing Anne.”

  “Who are you and why do you know Anne?” Reeve asked an hour later inside his basement, the man who had attacked his carriage tied to a chair in front of him. After hearing the mention of Anne’s name, he had decided to take the man into his custody and question him, his intuition telling him that he could learn something important from him.

  “Why should I tell you?” the man asked, his eyes brimming with hate. “You killed her.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Axelle said, stepping forward, ignoring Reeve’s earlier appeal for her to let Reeve handle the man.

  Reeve rolled his eyes but said nothing.

  “With all due respect, miss,” the man said. “You know nothing about your husband.”

  “No, you know nothing,” Axelle told him. “For instance, you do not know that right now, we are on a quest to find who murdered Anne, which is precisely why we have returned to London.”

  The man looked at Axelle and then at Reeve, his expression softening. “She was murdered? I thought she took her own life because she couldn’t bear being cooped up in a large, fancy house.”

  “Do you honestly think, sir, that Anne would take her own life?”

  The man paused, looking at his lap, then slowly shook his head. “No. She would never have hurt herself…or the babe.”

  Axelle’s eyes widened. “You knew about the babe?”

  “She told me about it.”

  Reeve suddenly stepped forward, his jaw clenched. “Were you the father of the child?”

  “No, I wasn’t,” the man said. “I loved her but she only saw me as a friend, maybe a brother, but she never allowed me to touch her and of course, I never forced myself on her.”

  “Who are you?” Reeve repeated his earlier question.

  “My name is Jim,” the man answered. “Anne and I lived in the same area around the docks.” He looked at Reeve. “Do you swear you didn’t kill her?”

  “I thought you believed she took her own life,” Reeve said.

  “But there were some people who said you killed her because you found out she was carrying another man’s child.”

  “I would advise you, Jim, not to pay heed to everything you hear,” Reeve said. “I give you my word as a gentleman, I did not kill her. I did not even know she was with child until her death and even if I had known, I assure you I would not have killed her. I would have adopted the child as my own.”

  Jim looked up at Reeve, searching his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. Then, having verified it, he nodded. “So someone else killed her. Poor girl, all she ever wanted in life was to be happy.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Can you untie me now?” Jim asked.

  Reeve debated on it briefly, then deciding he was no longer a threat to them, untied him.

  “Do you know who might have been the father of Anne’s unborn child?” Axelle asked as Reeve worked on the ropes.

  Jim shook his head. “I only know he was a noble, a rich man. Anne said he was not even handsome and that he had a burn scar on his right hand, which she noticed because he liked to show off his large ring and never take it off.”

  “Was he married?” Axelle asked.

  Jim shrugged. “I suppose he was. Many of Anne’s, er, clients were married.”

  Axelle was about to ask another question but Reeve stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “We thank you for your cooperation,” Reeve said as he handed Jim a bag of coins from his pocket. “Would you like to come work as a footman for me?”

  “That is most gracious, my lord,” Jim said. “But I have work at the docks.”

  Reeve nodded. “If you are ever in dire need, come to this house and I shall see to it that you are fed and given some money.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Reeve watched as Jim left, then led Axelle to his study.

  “Do you believe him, my lord?” Axelle asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Reeve answered. “You see, I happen to know a noble with a large ring and a burn scar on his right hand.”

  “You do, my lord?”

  Reeve nodded. “The Count of Westbury.”

  Reeve walked into the study of the Count of Westbury feeling restless and with a somber expression. He was about to meet a man who had been to bed with the woman he loved, after all, and could very well have killed her, and he could only hope that he could keep his temper reined in.

  Fleetingly, he wished Axelle was at his side, her presence having become a source of strength and comfort to him more than he cared to admit in the course of the past few weeks. He found it strange, but although he had long thought he could not come to love any woman after Anne, he had learned to like Axelle as if it was the most natural occurrence and he could even say that he was fond of her, so much so that he could not withstand the thought of any harm coming to her as it had to Anne or the thought of her with another man, the mere memory of her with the Viscount of Stonevale enough to make him clench his fist and want to pound it into a wall.

  Unfortunately, though, Axelle was no longer in London.

  Shortly after Jim had left the house, a letter arrived, saying that Rosalind had fallen ill. Axelle had gone home ahead to tend to her, with Reeve promising to come home as soon as he could.

  “Ravenhall,” the Count of Westbury said as he entered the room, leaning on an ivory cane for support.

  “Westbury,” Reeve returned the greeting without much emotion.

  “I was under the impression you were in the countryside with your new wife.”

  “I am in London for a few days.”

  “I understand you have something important to discuss with me?” The Count took a seat and gestured for Reeve to do the same.

  “Allow me to get straight to the point,” Reeve said, refusing to be seated. “I have come to ask you about Anne?”

  “Who?” The Count adjusted his spectacles.

  “My first wife,” Reeve said. “I was told you were acquainted with her.”

  The Count frowned. “That is ancient history.”

  “I am currently interested in ancient history,” Reeve said, stepping forward. “Tell me, did you take her to your bed?”

  “Damnation, Reeve,” he said, looking at him with a horrified expression. “Are we truly having this conversation?”

  “Yes we are, Gilbert, and the sooner you tell me what I need to know, the sooner it will be over.”

  “For heaven’s sake, she was a strumpet, Reeve. I merely paid for her services and availed of them.”

  The words caused a lump to form in Reeve’s throat but he swallowed it, keeping his temper contained. “And this was before she became my wife?”

  “Of course,” the Count of Westbury answered. “I would never bed another man’s wife.”

  “Was this shortly before she became my wife?”

  The Count shrugged in exasperation. “I swear I cannot remember and I have to tell you, Reeve, this conversation is making me feel insulted.”

  “Making you feel insulted?” Reeve raised his voice a little. “You are telling me you slept with my wife and you feel insulted?”

  “You would spare yourself the torment if you stopped making this inquiries,” the Count pointed out. “I slept with her before she was your wife and if you must know, she offered herself to me willingly.”

  “Did you know that she conceived your child?”

  “She what?”

  “She was carrying your child.”

  “Impossible,” the Count said. “I only saw her on a few occasions, not more than thrice,
I believe, and never again after that. Nay, I never saw her again after that.”

  Reeve simply frowned.

  “Are you certain the child was mine?”

  Reeve nodded solemnly. “I was informed it was.”

  The Count was speechless for a moment then he gave a deep sigh as he raked his fingers through his balding hair. “I never knew.”

  “She never told you?”

  “No, never,” the Count said. “I swear I had no idea.”

  Reeve nodded, strangely believing him.

  “Please do not tell Caroline,” the Count pleaded. “If she knew, she would kill me.”

  “Rest assured, my lord, I will not tell her,” Reeve said.

  “Good,” the Count said. “That woman can be ruthless. I remember one of my mistresses took off after she threatened her.”

  “Some women are more formidable than others,” Reeve agreed, envisioning Axelle of doing the same, though of course, he would never put her in that situation.

  “Oh, you know nothing about Caroline,” he said. “She once poured boiling water on the arm of a servant because she accidentally tore a bow off one of Olivia’s gowns.”

  Reeve frowned.

  “I hope your current wife does not cause you any trouble,” the Count added.

  “I certainly hope so,” Reeve agreed. He suddenly wondered what Axelle was doing and hoped that she and Rosalind were both well.

  “Rosalind is feeling a little better now but she is yet to recover enough strength to get out of her bedchamber,” Axelle told Mrs. Chapman as she watched the older woman gather some fresh herbs. She had just arrived at the Manor an hour earlier and already, she had decided to visit Mrs. Chapman and ask her for some herbs to help make Rosalind’s recovery.

  “I do have some herbs that can help her recover her strength faster,” Mrs. Chapman said.

  “I would appreciate that, Mrs. Chapman, as well as perhaps a concoction to help keep her fever away or perhaps get rid of it should it return.”

  Mrs. Chapman nodded. “I shall be with you shortly, my lady.”

  Axelle watched Mrs. Chapman enter the house and then looked around the garden, thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to have a garden of her own. Moments later, her thoughts were interrupted by a young woman emerging from the house, a woman who looked a great deal like Mrs. Chapman but seemed at least twenty years younger. She paused as she saw Axelle and then gave a curtsy.

  “You must be the Countess of Ravenhall,” the young woman said.

  “And you must be one of Mrs. Chapman’s daughters,” Axelle said.

  The young woman nodded. “My name is Belinda.”

  “Oh, so you are the one who works as a governess for the children of the Countess of Westbury?”

  “Yes, my lady. I am the governess of the two younger daughters, Margaret and Sophie but today is my day off.”

  “I see.” Axelle paused thoughtfully. “I thought Lady Caroline had three daughters.”

  “Yes, my lady. Her ladyship looks after Agatha personally.”

  “And the son?”

  “Henry has his own tutors.”

  Axelle grinned as she nodded. “I had imagined that. He is the only son and heir, after all.”

  Belinda nodded.

  “The Countess told me she would have had more children but she lost them,” Axelle added.

  “Yes, she lost three, two before Agatha and one after Sophie.”

  “Three?”

  Belinda gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to…”

  “It’s quite alright,” Axelle assured her. “I will not tell Lady Caroline you told me.”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  “How long have you worked at Westbury?”

  “It has been almost six years already, my lady.”

  “Would you like to come work for the Ravenhall household when I have children?”

  Belinda smiled. “I would love to, my lady.”

  Axelle, too, smiled.

  “If you will excuse me, my lady, I was on my way out to run an errand.”

  “Certainly,” Axelle said. “Good day.”

  “Good day, my lady.”

  Axelle watched Belinda go, thinking that she was a fine young lady who would certainly make an excellent governess, though she supposed it would be years before she needed one. She could not help but think, too, about what Belinda had said about the Countess of Westbury, which, along with the things she had learned recently, caused her to suddenly have a speculation.

  The more she speculated, the more she was convinced that she could be right, each thought causing a wave of excitement to surge through her. She was so wrapped up in them, in fact, that she did not notice Mrs. Chapman until the woman was right in front of her.

  “My lady, these are the herbs you asked for.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Chapman.” Axelle took the jars. “And would you be kind enough to answer a few questions?”

  “What was your question again?” Lady Caroline asked after sending the servant who had brought tea away.

  “I was simply asking if you would like to ride with me one time?” Axelle asked.

  After having obtained the answers to her questions, she had quickly made her way to the Westbury Manor, intent on confirming some of her suspicions.

  “That is very kind of you, dear,” Lady Caroline said. “But I am afraid I no longer ride.”

  “I am very sorry to hear that,” Axelle said. “I was told you were an excellent rider.”

  Lady Caroline smiled. “I try to do well in everything.”

  “You used to ride even in Ravenhall, did you not?”

  “Well, the Ravenhall estate is much larger, and there are excellent trails there.”

  “I agree.” Axelle feigned a smile, then took a sip from her cup.

  “So you have just arrived from London?”

  “Yes, I have,” Axelle said. “I was in a ball at the Viscount of Stonevale’s just a few nights ago.”

  Lady Caroline snorted. “That man will take any woman to his bed. I pity Lady Amelia.”

  “You would, of course, not tolerate such a behavior, would you?”

  “Of course not,” Lady Caroline answered. “And neither should you.”

  “Tell me, Lady Caroline.” Axelle set down her cup. “What would you do if you found out your husband had a child with a mistress or a lover?”

  Lady Caroline shrugged. “I would hope that such an unfortunate thing would not happen. If it did, I fear I would lose my mind.”

  “Yet you would do nothing?”

  “My dear, what can women like us do? We cannot leave our husbands nor can we control them regardless of how much we may want to do so.”

  “True,” Axelle agreed. “Unfortunately so.”

  Lady Caroline simply grinned.

  “Might I ask you another question?” Axelle leaned forward. “One that I trust you shall keep in confidence?”

  “Certainly.”

  “If let’s say I have conceived a child but am not yet ready for it, would you know of a means to get rid of the babe without anyone knowing?”

  Lady Caroline looked at her with an expression of horror, but slowly, her expression softened into one of understanding. “Well, I certainly did not expect that question from you.”

  “As you’ve said, I am in no hurry to set up a nursery.”

  “I understand,” Lady Caroline said. “We women must be able to decide when we want to have a child or not.”

  Axelle nodded.

  “I may know of a way,” Lady Caroline went on. “But it shall only work if you are not too far along.”

  “I see,” Axelle said, trying to hide her elation at having confirmed another of her suspicions. “Well, I shall certainly let you know if I run into such a predicament.”

  Lady Caroline just smiled.

  “Forgive me, Lady Caroline, but I’m afraid I cannot stay long.” Axelle rose from her seat. “I must retu
rn to Rosalind and tend to her.”

  “Of course.” Lady Caroline stood up, as well. “I hope she will recover quickly. You will come visit again next time, won’t you?”

  “Certainly,” Axelle said. “Good day, Lady Caroline.”

  “Good day, Lady Axelle.”

  Axelle smiled at the other countess one last time before walking towards the door of the parlor but at the doorway, she stopped, the temptation to ask another question far too great that she could not ignore it.

  “When we first met, Lady Caroline, you said that you had two miscarriages?”

  “It was unfortunate really,” Lady Caroline answered.

  “And you’re certain there were only two?”

  “It is not likely something a woman would forget,” Lady Caroline answered. “Regardless of how much I wish to.”

  “It is unfortunate, indeed,” Axelle agreed. “Good day.”

  She walked on, thinking that she had a good idea of what had happened to Anne and hoping to confirm it when Reeve returned from London and told her of his conversation with the Count of Westbury. She suddenly felt impatient for his return, but had only taken a few steps when she felt something hard and heavy hit the back of her head, and as her vision darkened, her last thought was of her husband before she completely lost consciousness.

  Reeve…

  Eight

  Reeve pulled his horse to a sudden halt, clasping his hand to his chest which felt painfully tight as his heart started pounding.

  He did not know why but he suddenly had a gripping sense of foreboding, much like the one that had possessed him on the night of Anne’s murder.

  No!

  As soon as he had left the study of the Count of Westbury, he had gone to his own study to contemplate what information he had acquired so far, and after a while, a realization occurred to him, one that had sent him running to the stables so that he could have his horse saddled and ride straight to the countryside as fast as he could.