"It's all right, Janine. Perhaps Jessamine is right. We're so caught up in everything. Maybe we can't see things clearly any longer. Though I'm not certain you could be any more objective than we are. But you must promise that what you hear today will not go beyond this room."
"I am not my mother. You have my sincere word on it."
"All right then," Cecilia said, sighing heavily. She waited while Loudon served them, using the time to gather her thoughts. After he left, she took a sip of tea, drew a deep breath, and told her how she came to marry Mr. Waddley and what she assumed were her brother's motives for arranging the match. The tale took some telling. There were some parts of Cecilia’s story Janine did not understand, and much that sickened her, for her life had been insulated against such atrocities. But when Cecilia told her of Mr. Thornbridge's revelations about Lord Havelock and Sir Harry, she would not accept Lord Havelock as the guilty party.
"I will grant you he has changed, but nothing could undermine his basic good nature to that extent. No. I refuse to believe it of him. It has to be Sir Harry."
"But Janine, Angel Swafford as much as said it was Lord Havelock."
"She didn't name him explicitly, did she? And you said yourself you only saw a dark silhouette of the man who took Miss Swafford. It could have been Sir Harry. They are of the same height."
"Janine, Janine, see how hard it is not to allow one's emotions to color one's judgment?"
"He could not have changed that radically! You didn't know him as I did. To change in the manner you're suggesting implies insanity."
"I don't know how anyone could enter into this spice trade, as they call it, without being insane," said Lady Meriton softly.
"It can't be Havelock. I could more believe him to be this government infiltrator than I could the perpetrator of such horror."
"Cecilia, I have a thought. You say you only saw his silhouette. Do you think you would recognize that silhouette if you saw it again?" Lady Meriton asked.
Cecilia nodded slowly, the light of comprehension shining in her eyes. "Yes, I believe I would. Do you have silhouettes of both gentlemen? Preferably ones I have not seen before? That way, I can avoid prejudice."
"I believe I do," Lady Meriton said, rising and hurrying toward the door. "I'll not be but a few moments."
"And I promise, should it prove to be Lord Havelock, I'll not object," said Janine.
"I should never have told you. It's not fair to burden you in this manner. I dislike burdening others in any way."
"No. Don't feel that way. I've lived too sheltered a life. I think, maybe, all of us in society lead sheltered lives. To us, evil and crime are out there somewhere, apart from our world. It's like they're enacted on stage, and we sit in our protected little boxes watching it all—untouched by reality. That's not right."
Janine's face shone with an intentness and conviction that startled Cecilia. She'd not thought of the matter in the global manner Janine did. To do so hinted at a growing corruption within the very fabric of their society—regardless of any personal relationship with the perpetrators. She found herself idiotically wishing the entire matter would disappear in a puff of smoke. She chided herself for her weakness, but the wish remained.
"Here," Lady Meriton said, coming through the door. She stopped to close it carefully behind her. "I have brought four pictures. Two are Havelock and Elsdon. The other two are not. Their names are written on the back. I shall place them on this table over here," she said, clearing a space on the cluttered table behind the sofa. "Now, Cecilia, come here and identify Miss Swafford's abductor."
Cecilia came around the sofa hesitantly, nervously. She was followed by Janine, who peered around her at the four silhouettes.
She thought she instantly recognized the man, but she took an extra moment to study them all carefully. Finally, she pointed to the second one from the end. "That one."
Lady Meriton flipped it over. HAVELOCK.
Janine went white but steadied herself on the table edge. Cecilia put an arm about her, and together they stared at the damning silhouette.
A soft knock on the door pulled their attention away from the black profile. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but Sir Harry is here."
"Send him up," Cecilia said peremptorily.
"Do you think that's wise? Though we may believe Havelock to be the leader, that does not mean he works alone," Lady Meriton said as she gathered up the pictures.
"True, but I doubt he'd have more than one in the same social circle," Cecilia said. She led Janine back around the sofa. "Sir Harry, my lady," announced Loudon.
"Mrs. Waddley, I am-sorry to intrude on you in this fashion. Hie ho! But it seems the world is falling around me. I shall never get my play produced. But that is not important now. Dear Mrs. Waddley, I have just come from Cheney House. I went to pay my respects to your brother. While I was there, the baron suffered some sort of seizure and collapsed."
"No," whispered Cecilia. She turned to Lady Meriton. "Didn't I say I had no idea what form papa's reaction would take? I should have gone to him this morning!"
"This morning, you were in no condition to be of help to anyone," her aunt said, her expression considering, her eyes never leaving Sir Harry.
"The place is in an uproar. The duke is yelling at everyone, and the baron is asking for you," he said, holding out his hand toward Cecilia. "I said, as my coach was just outside, I'd fetch you. But it would be best if you came quickly. I don't know if he has much time left."
