AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bridget took a shuddering breath, then set down her tea.
“In that case,” she said, “I suppose I should start from the beginning.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Abolt of lightning lit the whole room in stark white, thunder rattling the windows. Bridget placed her empty cup down on its saucer, and Graham refilled it for her at once. With that, she began her story.
“Mary and I met Lord Bragg on a hunt here in Hertfordshire nearly two months ago,” she said. “He had only returned to England from the Caribbean this summer, and was looking to do with his new money what any young lord might do—find a wife and settle down in his country home to start a family. You see, he always told us he’d never had a stable home and family as a child, growing up as he did abroad.
“Mary took pity on him, for he told quite the pitiable tale. His mother had died when he was young, he said, and his father was a cruel man. He was raised primarily by the servants in his father’s home, while his father traversed the ocean between England and the Caribbean. I know for a fact it is true, for we knew several other girls who knew of Lord Bragg’s father, and he was known to be a horrible man, and an even worse master.
“Lord Bragg, though, portrayed himself as a man of kindness and dignity. He spent the first two weeks of our acquaintance working hard to woo Mary, though I did not think much of him.” She looked up at Graham’s mother. “You must remember, Your Grace, that he rarely behaves like a gentleman, and he frequently asked Mary to go on solitary adventures despite the impropriety of such things. And Mary went with him, because she was always wild of spirit.”
Fanny smiled sadly. “Yes,” she said. “My dear girl. I remember that well.”
“I understood, though,” Bridget said. “Lord Bragg is… well, he is not someone I would chose, but he is handsome enough, I suppose, in a roguish way. He reminded Mary of the pirate adventures she so loved to read in our youth, and he was more than willing to play the role for her. He promised her a life of adventure—if she would give him her hand in marriage. And so she agreed.”
Graham shook his head, his brow furrowing. “I do not understand how she could have been wooed without my knowing,” he muttered. “It is simply not the way things are done.”
“But when did Mary ever hold to convention?” Fanny said, an expression of sad fondness on her face.
“Exactly,” Bridget said. “And she feared you would not approve, Graham, and so she kept it a secret from all but me and her lady’s maid.”
“Jane?” Graham said. “In all the chaos, I had nearly forgotten she was the one who suggested I speak with you in the first place. She must have known there was something more to Mary’s death.”
“I have not spoken to her since,” Bridget said. “Perhaps she can provide more information after I have told you all I know.”
“Yes, perhaps,” Graham said. “Please, continue.”
She paused to sip at the hot tea gratefully. She was visibly regaining her strength now, her clothes steaming as she sat beside the fire.
“Mary and Lord Bragg had a whirlwind romance,” Bridget said. “He swept her off her feet in a matter of weeks. It did not take long for him to convince her to accept his proposal. He made himself at home in Hertfordshire, staying most often at the inn in the village, but coming frequently to Foxglove Hall. I tried to tell her she should be careful with him, that I believed he was most interested in the coffers of the Barnet family, but all it did was drive a rift between Mary and I, so I let it lie.
“Lord Bragg, though, was fool enough to sabotage himself. For he had a problem—a problem he apparently shared with his father—in that he enjoyed dallying with the servants. And not just dallying. He…”
She trailed off, and Graham took her free hand.
“You don’t have to say it,” he said quietly.
“I must,” Bridget said. “I must—for Mary.”
Graham nodded, glancing at his mother and finding her sitting stock still, riveted by the tale. Yet she, too, reached out to comfort Bridget, squeezing her shoulder.
“Go on, dear girl,” she said.
“As I was saying,” Bridget said, her voice barely a whisper. “Lord Bragg would… force himself on the female servants at times. At first, Mary feared he would have an affair with one of them, and I believe he may have, but then she caught him abusing Jane.”
“Damn him!” Graham cursed, drawing a gasp from Bridget. “This must have been what Warren meant when he said a young lady’s honor was at stake.”
“The servants knew better than we did what was going on,” Bridget said. “Indeed, it was my lady’s maid Tilda who first told me I should be cautious. Unfortunately for Mary, it was already too late.”
She swallowed hard, staring into her teacup.
“When Mary caught him attacking Jane, she threatened to go to the authorities if he did not leave Hertfordshire straightaway. I did not know of any of this until she asked me to meet her at the lake, where she told me the whole tale. I was horrified, of course, but there was nothing I could do, for Oliver came upon us there, having followed her from Foxglove Hall.”
She closed her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Graham wanted to hold her but she needed to finish the story first.
So, he waited, ready to listen.
