A Lady's Addiction (Honor Prevails Book 1) Page 21
Millicent’s movements were jerky as she walked to the doorway of the room.
“Are you all right?” the dowager asked, concern in her voice.
His sister-in-law paused but didn’t turn. “Yes, thank you. I will also attend the theatre this evening. So sorry to be in such a terrible hurry. Good night.”
“She may be in shock,” he said once Millicent had left the room. “I think she cared for the man.”
“Maybe I should go speak with her,” his mother replied.
“Do you really think she would talk to you about Michael Bradley even if she is upset?”
His mother shook her head in answer to his question.
“What about Lady Stafford?”
“What about her?” He knew his words sounded harsh. His next statement would relieve his mother of any expectations she had for his relationship with Anna. “She is free to remarry and gain her fondest desire: children.”
“So that is how it is,” his mother replied, the expression on her face reflected a calm acceptance of her son’s words.
“Yes, mother, that is exactly how it is.”
* * * * *
Millicent studied her image in the dressing table glass. “I need to look my best this evening.”
“I’m finished, my lady,” her new maid Kate replied. The girl passed her mistress a hand mirror and stood back to let Millicent admire her coiffure from all angles.
“That will do.”
The maid didn’t look perturbed by her mistress’s lack of praise.
“You’ve gone very pale, my lady. Do you need a restorative?”
“Certainly not. How silly you are.”
She stared at Kate. This girl didn’t cry over Millicent’s insults as Jane had done. Jane had requested to be released to find employment as a maid elsewhere. The dowager gave the girl a glowing letter of reference. The imbecile had been poisoned therefore she wanted to work elsewhere. Goodness, but her husband’s mother spoiled the servants.
“Leave me. I won’t need your services the rest of the evening.”
“Yes, my lady.” Kate left her mistress to her solitude.
Michael was dead. He was no longer a threat to anyone. All ties to her youth were now gone. Her lover was dead. Her baby was dead. Her husband and his family hated her. Her mother had died when she was a child and her sister had died in childbirth. Her elderly father rarely recognized her when she visited him. His doctors told her he suffered from the onset of dementia.
“Dead, they’re all dead.” Her sing-song voice rang out in the room.
Millicent rose from her seat at the dressing table and moved to her dressing room. She reached up to a shelf in an open cupboard on one side of the room and pulled down a hatbox. Underneath numerous stacked letters resided two brightly wrapped candies.
“I knew I would find a use for you,” she said to the sweets. She took them out of the box and replaced the hatbox on the shelf. “You will help me join Michael. Despite what the church teaches, I don’t believe I will go to hell if I take my own life. My life here on earth has been hell.”
Devlyn probably thought the candy had been sent by Michael. She believed the true culprit to be Lady Pickerel. Michael told her he’d only slept with Cecily because he needed money and he pitied the woman. His heart belonged and always would belong to Millicent. Lady Pickerel was obviously jealous of her and had tried to get rid of any rival for Michael’s affections.
She stared at the candies resting in her hand. The memory of the unpleasantness Jane had gone through came to mind. No, something far less messy was in order.
There had been an article she’d read in the London Times about a man falling off a balcony. He’d broken his neck. The coroner interviewed for the piece stated the man died instantly when he’d landed on the ground.
She absentmindedly dropped the candy into her reticule. Very soon she would see her baby. Nobody would let her see the child after her miscarriage. Her mother-in-law said it wasn’t right. The doctor told her the baby was a girl. She’d had a daughter.
“Don’t worry my darling, I’m coming.” She returned to her bedchamber and checked her appearance in the Cheval mirror in the corner of the room. “I do look my best.”
* * * * *
“Auntie Anna! Auntie Anna!” A familiar voice called her name and a very familiar little boy hurtled himself at her legs.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, young man?” she asked Andrew before she lifted him into her arms for a hug.
“Mother told me you were coming to see us, and I could say good night to you before Nurse puts me to bed.”
She looked over the head of the boy in her arms and noted Cecily’s sheepish look. She wasn’t surprised the woman wanted Andrew present to lessen the awkwardness between them.
Andrew pushed at the arms holding him to get down. “Can I come see kitty tomorrow?”
“We’ll see.” She’d evaded answering the boy’s question, unsure of the future of her relationship with Cecily. “Your mother and I have adult things to talk about and right now you need to go to sleep.”
The boy looked from one woman to the other before running to his mother.
Cecily lifted her son up for a kiss and hug and told him, “Goodnight, darling. I’ll be up in a bit to check on you.”
Andrew whispered loudly into his mother’s ear, “I want to go see kitty tomorrow. Ask Auntie Anna.”
“Yes, my son, I will ask.”
The boy appeared mollified by her reply. Hand in hand with his nurse he went upstairs to the nursery.
“Tea?” Cecily inquired once both women were seated. “Or perhaps you would like a sherry?”
“No thank you. I no longer drink spirits. And I’d prefer you don’t have any right now, either.”
She was surprised at Cecily’s appearance. The woman looked tired. Her eyes were red. Her former friend wore a slightly rumpled day dress and numerous strands of her golden hair had come loose from her chignon. She’d never seen Cecily look anything but well-groomed.
“Your note said you have news about Franco?”
“His real name was Michael Bradley and he’s dead,” she replied.
Cecily gasped. “Franco is dead? What happened?”
“Michael Bradley couldn’t swim. He fell into the Thames and drowned.”
“He wasn’t a nice man, but I never wished him dead. He was Andrew’s father after all.”
Anna briefly explained the events of the afternoon.
“I should thank Mr. Maitlin,” Cecily said unexpectedly when Anna finished her story.
“At present I don’t think that is a particularly good idea.”
The other woman frowned. “You’re probably right. I’m not sure what I would say to him.”
The women looked at each other.
“Anna,” Cecily said in a voice choked by tears. “I know you can never forgive me. I want you to know how sorry I am for involving you in my problems.”
“I believe you are sorry,” she replied, her voice cold. “Sadly, you are sorry for selfish reasons. Forgiveness isn’t the problem. I see no way for us to go forward.”
Tears now flowed down Cecily’s cheeks. “I wanted you to be unhappy like me. My life is horrible. The only good thing I have in it now is Andrew.”
“You pushed everyone away except for me,” she replied. “You thought I was pathetic, so you kept me around.”
Cecily nodded. “You’re right. You’re my only friend because I reject others before they can reject me.”
“I remember you were happy when we were girls, before-”
“-before I married. Most of the ton dislikes my husband so I assumed they would dislike me.”
“You don’t have to live like that.” Anna was struck at the irony of her words. Hadn’t she been behaving the same way? “If you don’t care about yourself how can you expect others to care about you?”
A short silence followed. Cecily worried her lip with her teeth before she said, “If you sti
ll want to spend time with Andrew, he could visit you at Stafford House; alone, of course.”
“I would like that,” she replied.
Cecily smiled weakly. “I really do think Devlyn Maitlin cares for you.”
Anna closed her eyes tightly. She needed to stop her habit of holding her emotions in. There hadn’t been any disapproval attached to the words. She couldn’t imagine ever confiding in Cecily again. Although she pitied the woman, she wasn’t ready to resume their friendship.
“You deserve happiness, Anna.”
She opened her eyes. Cecily looked utterly without hope. She couldn’t reach out to her. Cecily had become a stranger.
“You deserve love and a family.”
“You don’t believe in love,” she said to the other woman.
“I did once,” Cecily replied with a catch in her voice. “When we were young, and I didn’t know the true ugliness that could reside in a man’s heart.”
She had no idea how to comfort Cecily. Both women had chosen badly on the marriage mart.
“My brother lives in Norfolk,” Cecily said out of the blue. She dabbed her eyes with a scrap of linen Anna hadn’t realized the woman clutched in her hand.
“Yes?” She searched and found a lace handkerchief in the reticule on her lap. She dried her own eyes.
“He is married now and has a daughter. I think Andrew would like the country. We have only been out of London once since he was born.”
The picture in her mind of the little boy in the country was a pleasant one. “Andrew would love the countryside. Think of all the animals, and birds, he would see.”
“I haven’t talked to my brother since my wedding day.” Cecily took a deep breath. “Maybe he won’t see me.”
“You never know unless you try.”
Cecily smiled sadly. Anna couldn’t help a feeble smile herself. What a sorry pair they were. Although a large part of their lives had come to an end, she knew good things could blossom from the bad.
“Anna, you were the best friend a horrible woman like me could ever have. Someday I’ll show you I can be a good friend as well.”
She couldn’t believe such a thing could come to pass, but she had finally found some little bit of compassion for the woman seated across from her. “We’ll never know unless you try.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
All Devlyn wanted was a few quiet moments at home before he paid a call on Anna. After that visit he would prepare for his trip on the morrow to see Cameron. Without Millicent in the house, dinner had been a peaceful affair. He settled in the drawing room with his mother. He realized the color of Anna’s eyes were the same color as the brandy in his glass.
He’d sent a note to inform Anna he would arrive at Stafford House after nine of the o’clock. His call on the magistrate had taken longer than he planned. He’d only arrived home shortly before dinner and had just caught Millicent at home before she left for the evening.
“Good heavens, what now?” Devlyn asked his mother upon hearing loud voices coming from the entry hall of the townhouse.
The dowager stood, the expression on her face fearful. “Millicent…”
“Bradley is dead. He can no longer harm her. I will go see what the commotion is all about.”
He strode out of the room, aware his mother would likely follow him. He descended the main staircase of the house to reach the entry hall. Thomas stood speaking with a liveried servant he didn’t recognize.
“This footman desires a word with you, sir,” the butler said to him. “He has been sent here by Lord Deery.”
“Lady Cameron has had an accident.” The footman’s eyes strayed past Devlyn to where the dowager now made her way down the staircase.
Devlyn turned to his mother once she came to stand beside him. “I will see to Millicent. Please return upstairs. I will speak with you when I return.”
The dowager looked as if she would argue but held her tongue in front of the servants. He was relieved good breeding won out over fear.
“No matter how late,” the dowager replied.
He nodded. “No matter how late.”
Devlyn donned his outerwear with the butler’s assistance as his mother made her way upstairs. Once he decided the viscountess was safely out of earshot, he asked Lord Deery’s servant, “What happened?”
“Lady Cameron fell out of a box at Drury Lane Theatre.”
He couldn’t believe it. “Fell out of a box? Is she dead?”
The servant looked reluctant to pass on the bad news himself. “I believe she is, sir. She fell during intermission and came to rest on the seats below in the pit. Lord Deery has sent for the coroner.”
“Let us go.” He nodded to Thomas. “Send my mother’s maid up to her.”
Carriages could be seen leaving the building headed in all directions as he alighted from his coach at the Royal Theatre, Drury Lane. The women he passed as he strode to the main entrance of the theatre held handkerchiefs to their mouths and he heard more than one sob. Lord Deery’s man followed him into the foyer of the building.
“Lead the way,” he said to the footman.
The servant walked through the open double doors of the foyer to the pit. There were few people left in the building. All the candles in the theatre were still lit and he observed a group of men who stood near the left side of the stage. He recognized Lord Deery’s distinguished gray hair among the gentlemen crowded together.
Lord Deery raised a hand and waved when he caught Devlyn’s gaze. Devlyn and the footman walked to where the group stood. With a nod, Lord Deery dismissed his servant.
“Mr. Maitlin, I am sorry to have cause to summon you here.”
A few feet away from where they stood, Millicent lay face up behind a row of chairs. Her eyes were open and staring. A man knelt beside her body. The man leaned over and with thumb and forefinger closed Millicent’s eyes.
The man finished his task and stood. “I am Mr. Griffin, the coroner.”
“What happened here?” Devlyn asked the group at large.
Lord Deery cleared his throat. “At the first intermission I excused myself to go to the lounge. My wife, Lady Weston, and Lady Cameron remained in the box. I had just exited the lounge when I heard screams. I ran to the box to see my wife and Lady Weston leaning over the railing and looking at Lady Cameron lying face down in the pit. Her head was turned at an odd angle.”
The man paused a moment, his pale face taking on a greenish hue. He noticed Lord Deery kept his face averted from Millicent’s body.
“I hurried downstairs to see if I could offer any aid to the lady. She lay motionless. Her eyes were wide open. I found no evidence of breath or pulse. Most of the people in the surrounding area had gone out to the lobby. The men present began escorting women away from the body. I sent for the coroner and I dispatched one of my servants to find you.”
“I turned the lady over to examine her,” the coroner said.
Devlyn walked to the body and bent down. Other than the strange angle of her head, Millicent could have been sleeping.
The coroner spoke again, “There is no sign of foul play. Lady Deery and Lady Weston were witnesses to the accident. Both ladies state Lady Cameron dropped her reticule and grabbed for it. She missed catching the bag and went over the side of the box.”
Devlyn stood up and gave his attention to Lord Deery. “Were there any witnesses in the pit?” he asked.
“Do you question my wife’s story?” Lord Deery didn’t sound affronted, merely confused.
“Not at all,” he replied, his voice calm. “I am merely anxious to spare my family any further distress.”
“Mr. Maitlin, I don’t believe any further inquiry is warranted in this case,” the coroner said. “There is no indication this is anything but a tragic accident. My report will reflect this. I can with all good conscience release the body to you.”
He stared at Millicent’s lifeless body. What a senseless, tragic accident. Her reticule rested nearby. When he bent down
to retrieve the bag, he noticed two small items next to it. The wrapped candies looked familiar. He pocketed the sweets and kept his thoughts to himself.
When he returned home sometime later he found his mother, still dressed in her dinner clothes, dozing in an armchair in her bedchamber. Her maid was not in the room.
“Mother, where is your maid?”
“I sent the girl to bed. No reason all of us should lose sleep. Where is Millicent?”
He put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “She’s dead, mother.”
“Oh, Devlyn… I knew Millicent felt unsettled after hearing your news about Franco.”
He knelt beside his mother’s chair and clasped her hands in his own. He told her what he had seen at the theatre and what the witnesses said about Millicent’s accident.
“We have no way of knowing if she hurt herself on purpose, mother,” he said, not believing his own words.
The dowager shook her head. “You told me the candies were there. She wanted us to know.”
“There was nothing we could have done. If she wanted to do away with herself she would have eventually found a way regardless of our interference.”
“Although I had very little affection for your brother’s wife because of the way she treated Cameron after his accident, I never wished her ill.” His mother’s voice shook as she said, “I can’t imagine anyone having such a wretched existence they believe the only solution is to take their own life.”
He didn’t know how to respond to her words.
“Cameron has to be notified.”
“I will do it,” he replied.
His mother nodded.
“Is she here?”
“The coroner released the body to me. She’s home.”
He leaned in to kiss his mother’s cheek. When he pulled back, he saw tears in her eyes. She removed her hands from his and waved him away. He stood up and she rose to her feet as well, her jaw set.
“You need to rest, mother. The housekeeper knows what to do. I will ride to Kent on the morrow.”
His mother looked every inch a viscountess as she replied, “Millicent was my daughter-in-law, Devlyn. I know what needs to be done and it is my responsibility to do it. Leave me to my duty and go prepare for yours. Cameron needs you.”