She said that last word so quietly that it was only audible because hardly anyone in the room was breathing.
‘It definitely was not an accident?’ Tobias’ stomach twisted as he questioned her. He did not want to push her, not when the distress was clear in every line of her body, but he also had to be sure.
She shook her head and then, as if realising he needed to hear the words, she said, ‘It was not an accident. I am sure that my parents arranged it. They could not control Clare and so they ended her life.’ Tears were falling down her face now, too quickly for her to brush them away. ‘The world will always be poorer for the loss of them.’
The urge to wrap his arms around her, to offer comfort, was almost overwhelming. But he knew that he could not. They were not alone, and, even if they had been, he would still not have been able to. She was not his to touch.
Emily stood and put her arms around Grace’s shoulders. She murmured something that no one could hear and Grace shook her head. ‘I need to get to the end.’ She took a deep breath and continued. ‘By the time I was made aware of what had happened, my parents had already taken custody of Charlotte. For months, I was in such a state of shock, I could not make any decisions or focus on anything other than my grief. Clare had been my world for as long as I could remember and without her, I was adrift. When I finally regainedcontrol of my senses, I realised something was terribly wrong. My parents were trying to get control of Charlotte’s inheritance. I knew that Sebastian had named his brothers Charlotte’s guardians should anything happen to him. At the time, I believed that their deaths were a tragic accident, but I did not like the way my parents were treating Charlotte as they had Clare and me. Even though she was only a baby, they were already planning her future. They began spending wildly, using credit against Charlotte’s name. When it became clear that my parents had no intention of following Sebastian’s will, I took Charlotte and brought her to England.’
Tobias sensed there was a lot more to that story than the simple delivery suggested. From the look Freddie shot Edward, he obviously thought so too. There would be time in the coming months to ask Grace more about it. For now, it was better to stick to the basic facts. The sooner the retelling was over, the sooner Grace’s distress would end.
‘Once I knew she was safely with you and that you had accepted the terms of Sebastian’s will, I returned to America. I had left all of Sebastian and Clare’s belongings in a safe place and I wanted to make sure that none of it fell into my parents’ or Ichabod’s hands. Leaving America for a second time was… difficult.’ Again, there had to be more to this story, but Tobias did not want to add to Grace’s discomfort by asking her about it. ‘But I am here now and I intend to stay. There is nothing for me to return to in America and every sight and sound in Boston reminded me of my sister.’
The Blue Lounge descended into a cavernous silence.
‘Did you…?’ she began again, when nobody said anything. ‘Did you send someone to investigate?’
‘Yes. We sent a Mr Hornel,’ said Tobias. ‘He has been sending us reports.’
‘I thought you must have done. A man was asking questions about Sebastian. An Englishman. I tried to speak to him on a few occasions, but he was never available. I heard word that my parents thought I had returned to America, so I decided to hurry up my departure.’
Tobias remembered that Mr Hornel had mentioned a woman had come looking for him but that he had been out at the time of her arrival. This fitted with what they already knew. Something else he remembered from the investigator’s letters, something that had come up towards the beginning of the man’s arrival in America, and which had been bothering him for some time. ‘Do you know of a Gabriel Ashby?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I am not aware of such a person. Why?’
‘According to Mr Hornel, a man of that name tried to take money from Sebastian’s account not long after Sebastian died. He claimed to be his brother-in-law, but when this Gabriel was refused access, he did not insist.’
‘I do not have any brothers, so this person is of no relation to Clare or me.’ She paused, studying her plate intently and nodding slightly. ‘Ichabod did sometimes refer to himself as Gabriel, which was his father’s name. It is possible that it was him, although we will never be able to find out the truth about that. He died over a year ago in a bar brawl.’ Her skin lost what little colour she’d had and she returned her plate to the table, her food untouched.
‘My family have done your family a great disservice and there is nothing I can do to make up for Sebastian’s loss, however I want you to know how terribly sorry I am. I would give anything for you to have your brother back and for Charlotte to have her father.’
‘It was not your fault, Mrs Wilmott. None of us blame you.’ He’d thought his words were reassuring, but when Grace covered her face with her hands and began to cry in earnest, he thought perhaps he haddone wrong again. He looked at Emily, hoping to convey with his eyes that she needed to offer comfort.
Tobias need not have worried; Emily was already back at Grace’s side, as were his other sisters-in-law. It couldn’t matter that Tobias wanted to be the one to comfort her; she would not welcome him coming anywhere near her. Although it would hurt him to do so, he would leave her to her privacy. Glancing at his brothers, Tobias nodded towards the door. They could do nothing more now and there was much they needed to discuss.
Chapter Eleven
For almost three years, Grace had imagined telling the Dashworths the story of their brother’s death. She had gone through her account of events a million times in her head, and then a million more, wanting to get through it as emotion-free as possible. She had shed tears for her sister and her sister’s husband, but that was a private grief she would live with forever and she hadn’t wanted to burden the family with that. There were still so many things she had left unsaid; things she should reveal because it was right that they knew everything, even if it cost Grace dearly. For now, the family knew enough.
In all her planning, she had never given herself time to think much about what would happen after she told the Dashworths the awful truth about her parents. If her mind had ever strayed beyond the point of her confession, all she’d been able to picture was their terrible anger. With no other outlet for it, she’d thought they would direct their ire at her. She would have understood that. Every time Grace went through the events that had led to the disastrous day, she had tried to pinpoint a moment where she could have stopped it from happening. Tinged with hindsight, those occasions seemed obvious. So yes, she would have understood if the Dashworths had blamed her. It was one of the reasons why she had waited until she had seenCharlotte again before spilling the awful truth. For the last two years she had ached with the longing to see her niece. The Dashworths would have been justified in not allowing it.
Charlotte had blossomed since Grace had last seen her. Her speech, which had all but stopped after the death of her parents, was coming along nicely. Her skin shone with health and her smile was radiant. Grace could find no fault in the care that Charlotte had received. The hour in which the two of them had played with toy soldiers had filled Grace’s soul with happiness, warming a part of her heart that had been dormant since she had last spent time with her niece.
And yet, the whole while, the interaction had been tainted with fear. Her parents had done the Dashworths a terrible, deeply evil wrong and Grace had let them get away with it. Admittedly, at first, she hadn’t realised there was anything to get away with. She’d been so bound up in her grief, it had taken her a long time to comprehend what her parents were doing with Charlotte’s money and even longer to work out that she needed to act.
Revealing the terrible news had been like ice cracking, spilling freezing water through her body. Then there had been Tobias. The duke had wrong-footed her at every turn. In that first meeting, his anger at her actions had taken her by surprise, but that had been nothing in comparison to his steady kindness yesterday. When he had said he did not blame her for the events that had caused his brother’s death, the tears had come.
What she had not expected was for the Dashworth wives to surround her with hugs and kind words, to ply her with cake and cups of sweet tea. The women wouldn’t let her return home until they were sure that she had stopped crying, and had made her promise to call on them to spend more time with Charlotte. The gentleness of theiractions had left her feeling befuddled, like she’d had one too many glasses of wine while being spun about on the dance floor.
She’d managed to get her feelings under control, had even managed to pretend that she was well and able to leave them. It wasn’t just that she was trying to respect the family’s right to mourn together; she also needed to be by herself for a while. Remembering all that had happened was draining. But now she had woken up feeling as if a lead weight had lodged itself on her chest, and not even a warm cup of chocolate could alleviate the sensation.
‘I think I am coming down with a malady,’ she told Sarah. ‘Please inform Parker that I am not at home should anyone call.’
Her maid reached over and touched her forehead. ‘You are looking quite pale, but you do not have a temperature. Perhaps a lie-down will do you good.’
Grace’s heart squeezed. Sarah and she had met while Grace was fleeing America the first time. Sarah had reasons of her own for wanting to leave and together they had formed a tight bond. ‘I am lucky to have you,’ Grace told her.
Sarah laughed. ‘It is me who was lucky to have found you, let’s make no mistake about that. Now, if you please, I must get on. That green dress of yours has a tear and I want to see if I can get it mended before your next outing. It makes you look like a queen.’
