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“I see.” William glanced at Richard, both knowing that this was not enough land to support a large estate.

Mrs. Browning began to reminisce, unaware of their silent exchange. “At one time, Northgate was thriving, with nearly a hundred servants and tenants tending the grounds and the house. It was quite a showplace. Now much of the up-keep, as well as the management are left to Cliffton, me, and the few others who are left.”

Seeing the question in their eyes, she offered, “Cliffton is my husband. He has been the butler at Northgate for nearly as long as I have been there, almost thirty years now, though his duties are so much more extensive than that. At present, he is watching the house so I can meet with you. Mr. Johnston, the Stanton’s steward, has arrived, and I overheard him tell his assistant that Lord Stanton would be coming to Northgate in the near future, I suppose to approve the final repairs.”

She sulked. “I am never notified of his comings or goings anymore, so it behooves us to hurry, just in case he arrives later today. I would not have him wondering where I am.”

Mrs. Browning saw the men glance towards her sister and nephew. “You may speak freely in front of Mary and Arthur. Arthur was the one I sent to Meryton to find Miss Elizabeth’s sister, and Mary hid her in this house while she recovered from her injuries. You can trust them.”

William apologised. “I am sorry if we offended anyone. We are just fearful for Elizabeth’s safety.”

“No offense was taken. I am glad that you are careful, as you are correct to fear. The young master can be cruel, and I believe him capable of doing great harm if he feels threatened.”

William ventured, “May I ask why you continue to work for such a man?”

“I do not work for the son, I work for the father,” she replied defensively. “The old master, Lord Stanton, is a good man, though he is rarely here anymore. He suffered a great heartache years ago when his foreign wife left him, taking their son back to Italy with her. He was but seven at the time. Afterwards, the master lived here only about four months a year, preferring to live in London the rest of the time.” She shook her head. “I think Northgate Manor held too many memories.

“When Stephen, Viscount Glascomb, returned to England at almost twenty, he and Lord Stanton moved back here. I understand that Lord Stanton had hopes of grooming him to take over the estate after university. However, the viscount was no longer a sweet-tempered boy. In fact, he had a volatile temper, and they disagreed often and forcefully. After he entered Cambridge, Stephen refused to visit, and Lord Stanton returned to London. In the last few years, I have seen them sporadically and usually separately.”

“You called him Stephen, though he calls himself Stefano,” Richard interjected.

“Yes, well he was born Stephen Anthony Stanton, Viscount Glascomb. However, when he returned from Italy, he preferred the name and title he had inherited from his maternal grandfather, Count Stefano Gianni Montalvo de Cavour. He is quite taken with his perceived importance and refers to himself as Count Stefano. Naturally, the rejection of the family name broke his father’s heart.”

“You seem to care for the father. Why would you risk making him angry by seemingly betraying the son?”

“There are two reasons. First, Lord Stanton does not approve of most of his son’s activities, though it is plain he chooses to ignore some of his faults. After all, Stephen is still his son, even if he is estranged from him.”

William ventured, “And second?”

“I truly care for Miss Elizabeth. She is a very kind young woman who has been ill-used. She puts me in mind of my youngest sister, Grace.” For just a moment, Mrs. Browning seemed to reminisce as she played with the fringe on a pillow. “We lost her to a ruthless cad many years ago.” Then shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, she resumed her narration.

“I was surprised when the young master arrived with Miss Elizabeth, as he had hardly been in residence in the previous six months. In any event, he arrived unannounced in the middle of the night, carrying this young woman in his arms—his wife, he insisted. I assumed she was ill, as she was definitely not conscious. She did not stir for days, and I began to worry that she never would.”

William closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths before rising to take his usual stance at a window. His discomposure was noticed by the other occupants of the room, Mrs. Browning especially. She had suspected all along that this wealthy gentleman would not have taken Miss Elizabeth into his home, as the Bingleys had explained, unless he was very much in love with her. Seeking the colonel’s eyes, his nod gave her permission to resume her story.

“Stephen rattled on almost incoherently—they had been married in Gretna Green—she was ill—he hoped their marriage would be incentive for her to recover. The next day I was given very precise instructions as to her care. I was to administer powders, mixed in tea, every morning before she had eaten.” She began to sniffle, her voice almost a whisper. “I truly did not know she was being drugged to keep her submissive until much later.”

Richard’s eyes cut to William, who had initially clasped his hands behind his back. Now his arms hung down futilely, the only sign of his discomposure being the curling and uncurling of his fingers into fists. Mrs. Browning’s next exclamation brought Richard’s attention back to her.

“Almost immediately, Stephen left! He received an express from London the day after and set off for Town, staying away three full months. This became his practice, arriving and staying for two or three days, then leaving and staying away for months on end. It continued this same way for almost two years ... until the fire.

“Dutifully, I gave Miss Elizabeth the powders every day for weeks, since he had left explicit instructions, and I believed her to be ill. However, the truth always comes out in the end! My sister, Mary, was terribly sick and had no one to care for her, so I had to leave. I left it up to Addie, Miss Elizabeth’s maid, to administer the powders, and being a flighty young thing, she forgot. By that evening, her charge was awake and talking. So the next day, Addie withheld the powders again—deliberately—and she improved even more astonishingly. By the time that I returned several days later, it was obvious that the powders were being used only to keep her immobile and mute. But, of course, this discovery brought its own set of problems.”

“She realised she had been trapped,” William ventured from his perch by the windows. His voice sounded hoarse, and though he kept his gaze fixed on something in the distance, Richard noted that he had begun to run his hands through his hair. This had always been a sure indication that William was trying to control his temper.

Mrs. Browning’s head swung around, astounded at William’s understanding. “Precisely!”

William continued, his voice eerily calm. “And she could not remember how she came to be married.”

“You are correct, sir. Miss Elizabeth could not remember anything beyond entering her home to find her own mother entertaining the man she had vehemently refused—Count Stefano ... Stephen. She began to cry hysterically, telling me she would never have consented to marry him and asking for my help. But what remedy did the poor child have? She could not return home if her own vile mother had pushed him upon her daughter, mind you. And if she left now, her reputation would be ruined anyway. She had no hope of escape.”

All was quiet in the small parlour for several seconds, each person present considering Elizabeth’s cruel fate. Mrs. Browning pulled a large white handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her now red eyes. “Addie and I came to believe she had been drugged and kidnapped with her mother’s consent.”

“When did she become resigned to her fate?” The flat tone of William’s enquiry belied the turmoil he felt, and even Mrs. Browning was not fooled.

“Not many days later, I found her staring into space. She no longer carried on much conversation with Addie or me, preferring to be alone. We worried for her sanity and her person, thinking once she had given up, she might harm herself.”

William shuddered, dropping his head. “What happened when Stefano returned to find her awake?”