The butler gasped in outrage. “I must protest this intrusion?—!”
“Protest all you want; it won’t change anything,” Drake noted firmly.
“I’ll send for the watch!” the servant sputtered.
This time, Drake paused and set his face directly in front of his. “You will mind your own business and look the other way.Mr. Porterdidn’t earn his reputation for no reason, so for your sake, I would be careful how far you test my patience.”
Immediately the butler looked as though he’d seen a ghost. He actually made the sign of the cross, proof of his apparent Catholic upbringing, before he turned and rushed the opposite direction.
Although Fleur hadn’t been sure what to think about Drake’s fearsome repute, she was thankful for it right then.
“Where shall we begin?” she asked.
He glanced at her. “Where all women keep their most prized possessions. In the bedchamber.”
She nodded, but when they reached the lady’s hallowed apartments, she glanced at Drake curiously. “What am I looking for?”
He finally paused to look at her steadily. “Anything tying her to Reynolds.”
Her mouth fell open. “Do you mean?—?”
“Indeed,” he said almost bitterly. “There is a twisting tale starting to unfold and I should know the truth.”
As he started to open drawers and go through them, Fleur’s mind began racing. For no particular reason, the conversation he’d shared with Amos flew back into her mind and she knew that, before she could go any further, she had to know some truth of her own. “Do you still think Flavian is guilty of wrongdoing?”
Drake stilled in the midst of his task, and without turning to face her, he asked softly, “Why do you ask?”
She swallowed hard over the lump threatening to choke her. “I overheard your conversation with Amos about a list of names and how he needed to be watched.” She blew out a heavy breath. “In light of recent circumstances, and your confirmation that you believe the villain was a grenadier, please tell me you still don’t cast Flavian in such a bad light.”
Drake finally straightened and turned to her. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe. I told you the idea was likely that it was a grenadier, but that doesn’t make it so. Since your brother is missing and I didn’t gain a good look at the culprit, I can’t answer that question yet.” He paused and she could feel the center of her stomach drop to her toes. “But,’ he added. “I hope that Devon can answer that for us, along with whatever information we might find here.”
Fleur nodded. She supposed that was as close to an apology she might receive. And at least he appeared to be speaking the truth. That meant more to her than any lies he might have uttered to the contrary.
After that, silence took over the room as they continued to rummage around Harriette’s personal effects. Drake stood with his hands on his hips and glared as he looked about the room. “I’m going downstairs. Perhaps she has a study she utilizes.”
When he left, Fleur was starting to feel the same frustration, mainly because she didn’t know what sort of evidence she was supposed to be procuring.
Closing her eyes, she started to imagine where Harriette might put something close to her heart. Her eyes popped open and she moved to the bed. While the trunk at the foot of the bed had been exhausted, she bent down and searched beneath the frame. When that proved fruitless, she ran her hand beneath the lady’s pillow and the feather mattress. She wondered if that would turn out to be nothing more than the same worthless endeavor, but her fingers brushed the edge of something that felt suspiciously like an envelope. Her heart started to race anew as she grabbed the paper corner and slid it out.
There, with simple, feminine handwriting, was Harriette’s name scrawled across the front. Fleur’s hands were shaking as she turned it over and removed the folded letter inside. It had creases of wear, as if the precious item had been read over and over again. There was a slight smudge of ink, as if a tear had fallen upon the words where the sadness would remain for all time.
The lines were faded, but she still had no trouble reading the poor entreaty.
Dearest Harriette,
I employ you to help me. I have lost everything although I cannot blame anyone but my poor sense of judgment. I had two men who would do anything for me and I have used them most ill. They have washed their hands of me and I have no one else to turn. Elijah has tortured me anew and I fear that his mind is tarnished. He was not the same since he returned from the war and I thought I might find some semblance of peace with him, but I fear I am not long for this world. I am riddled with disease and melancholy and I yearn for easier days in which to pass on from this life. I know I do not deserve any sort of special consideration from you, dear cousin, but I beg of you to ease my suffering. Send for the apothecary and request a bottle of arsenic. I shall contrive the rest. It will be a blessing to leave this world behind. It has not been kind to women of our ilk and I find I no longer care to remain. After the loss of two children that might have carried me through these days of grief, I no longer have the desire to continue. Please do not blame Elijah, as I truly believe he wants to live a good life. He is just unable to do so without the proper guidance, the sort of which he cannot gain from Avalon. I fear he will soon lose all sense of reality and fall prey to his own mind. I have also written to his brother in Greenwich to see what might be done to save him. I pray that he isn’t struck down as I have been—as you may be someday, cousin dear.
I will eagerly await your arrival. It is the last wish of my miserable existence and I hope you will grant it.
Yours Faithfully,
Elina
A tear slid down Fleur’s face, but before it could fall upon the letter, she folded it and set it back inside the envelope. Pressing it to her chest, she closed her eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. She understood the plight of this poor woman because she had nearly fallen down the same path should she not allowed her love for her brother to keep her getting up each day and pressing forward. Unfortunately, for Drake’s ex-lover, there was nothing more to be done for her fractured soul.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
The snide, feminine comment had Fleur spinning around to meet the accusing glare of Harriette. The woman’s dark eyes were a menacing bore as they peered at the letter held in Fleur’s grasp. Wiping away the evidence of her empathetic grief, she asked the one thing she was desperate to know. “Did you?—?”
