The Promise (6 page)

Lord Wallace stood up angrily and paced to the hearth
. I can take you to the grave.
A painful knot lodged in his throat.

Rutledge wrote down more names and passed them out. Jane began to wonder if everyone she had met in the past five years would parade through the library before the day was done.

Moments later one of the officers ushered in Jane’s first witness, The Honorable Hugh Bartram, Esquire.

“Mr. Bartram, thank you so much for coming.” She rose, curtsied, and managed a weak smile.

The solicitor’s sharp eyes swept the room and grasped the gravity of the situation in the span of a heartbeat. His eyes softened when they came to rest on Jane, hands clenched at her waist. She looked small, young, helpless.

“Miss Gray, are you embroiled in some sort of contretemps? Are these gentlemen
interrogating
you? If so, I must advise you to stop talking immediately. Under English Common law you have the right to silence. You cannot be compelled to incriminate yourself.”

He sent the Duke an admonishing look and quoted, “
Nemo tenetur se ipsum accusare
, Your Grace. I trust you were taught both Latin and basic legal rights at university?”

The Duke, who had expected the solicitor to support his effort, was taken aback by the admonishment.

“Mr. Bartram, we are not endeavoring to incriminate Miss Gray, but attempting to glean some information regarding the theft of a valuable necklace.”

Mr. Bartram sniffed. “If it was stolen, you can rest assured that Miss Gray had nothing to do with it,” he said confidently. Then he turned to Jane.

“The Duke and his brother are powerful, educated men, Miss Gray. Both are Members of Parliament, in fact.” He took off his spectacles and made a show of giving them a thorough polish before returning them to his nose. Jane suspected he was using the time to compose what he would say next. It was obvious he relished the oratorical spotlight. Despite the gravity of her situation, Jane’s lips tilted upward.

“Such men are well aware of the protections afforded you under the law. Perhaps that is why you have been detained here, rather than at a police station where it would have been a routine matter to apprise you of those rights?” He looked over the top rim of his spectacles and pinned Finn and Cameron with an accusatorial look. He turned to the police officers and rebuked them in turn. “ ’Tis a shameful dereliction of your duties, gentlemen.”

Mr. Bartram was clearly out of sorts, Finn observed. Whether that stemmed from resentment over being dragged from his office under imperious ducal summons or from an obvious fondness for his client was unclear, but what the man said next threatened to derail their efforts.

“Do you wish to employ my services, Miss Gray? If you do, the first thing I would do is call a halt to this inquisition.”

Damnation!
The duplicitous Miss Gray needed a champion and Mr. Bartram had been moved to chivalry. Finn groaned. Summoning the solicitor first had been a serious tactical error. He realized too late that a sympathetic attorney would naturally advise his client not to cooperate. It looked as if they were about to slam into a brick wall.

Her next words shocked every man in the room.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Bartram, but thank you for your wise counsel. I cannot afford your services in any case.” She reached out and patted his sleeve.

“I would be willing to do the work pro bono. I’ve every confidence in your innocence. Perhaps we should confer in private?” he said hopefully.

Finn rolled his eyes at his brother who looked furious.

“Thank you, Mr. Bartram. I’m honored by your faith in my character as well as your generous offer of assistance, but I do not think it will come to that. Furthermore, I release you from any obligations of confidentiality regarding our recent transaction. Please answer His Grace’s questions regarding the trust I attempted to establish for Pip. You may include the more private details of our conversation if you wish.”

For the first time, Finn’s absolute certainty of Jane’s guilt began to waver. She could read it on his face. She also knew that every step he took toward believing her was also a step toward accepting that his sister was dead. It was only natural that he would embark upon that journey reluctantly.

“Your Grace, may I check on Pip while you speak with Mr. Bartram?”

“Of course, Miss Gray.”

Jane gripped the armrests. As she rose, she was surprised to find Lord Wallace standing behind her. He pulled out her chair and placed a steadying hand under her elbow. Rutledge also stood, regarding her with a kinder expression. She walked to the French doors on wobbly legs and slipped outside, relieved to escape the tension.

After Jane left, Cameron painstakingly questioned Mr. Bartram. The solicitor confirmed her story and added details about the death of her friends in the cholera outbreak and her resulting fear of leaving Pip alone in the world.

“Did she mention how she would raise funds for the trust?” Finn asked. “She is a baker. Her salary must be meager.”

“In truth, I felt sorry for her. She had saved fifty pounds and thought it quite a large sum as it had taken her years to amass it. When I informed her it was not nearly enough for the purpose, Miss Gray told me she had a valuable necklace that had been left to her daughter. She intended to sell it to seed trust. Her next appointment was scheduled for two weeks hence.”

Cameron picked up the locket and turned it over in his hand. He had come to a turning point. Miss Gray’s story had acquired the ring of truth.

“Your Grace, after serving in the legal profession for more than twenty years, I have developed excellent instincts about people. I cannot conceive of that young woman’s involvement in any type of criminal activity. She was most sincere about her love and concern for the child.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bartram. I have no more questions.” Cameron exhaled loudly as he sank back in his chair.

Like Mr. Bartram, Midwife Allen confirmed Jane’s story and provided even more corroborating details. She explained how Jane had hired a wet nurse for the baby, the wife of a cooper who was still nursing her fifth child and happy for the extra income.

With a heavy heart, Cameron asked her to describe the birth. The midwife told him it had been routine. She repeated Jane’s description of the hemorrhage. A physician had been summoned, but arrived too late.

“I offered to take the bairn to a foundling home. But Miss Gray wouldn’t hear of it; she said she knew what those places were like and she wouldn’t suffer a child to live nor die in one. Told her I knew of a house that wasn’t so bad as t’others. Told her the Good Lord wouldn’t hold her to a pledge she made under such conditions. She hadn’t been given a choice, had she? I asked how she planned to raise a child with no man and no money. But she held fast to it… she wouldn’t listen to reason nor break her promise.”

“What promise?” Finn and Cameron asked in unison.

“When the poor lass realized her life was slipping away, she clutched at Miss Gray and begged her to care for the babe… to raise it as her own. Miss Gray swore she would. ’Twas the last thing that poor girl ever heard and it seemed to give her peace.”

Cameron buried his face in his hands. The midwife had painted a grim picture. Maura would have been terrified by the sight of her own blood. Had she suffered greatly? She should have had her mother to comfort her in those final moments. He struggled to reconcile what he had learned with the carefree, sweet tempered sister he remembered. Why had she not come to him? He would have forgiven her anything.
Anything.

“Do you have any more questions for Midwife Allen?” he asked his brother. Finn shook his head somberly.

The officer who had been dispatched to check the parish records returned. He verified that the birth of Piper Livingston and death of Daphne Livingston had occurred on the same day at the address of the bakery.  The date was nearly four months after the Sunday Trading Bill protest, the day of Maura’s disappearance. The very day Jane claimed she first saw the girl she had known as Daphne in Russell Square.

Chapter Five

Finn leaned against the wall on the far side of the library and watched Jane through the glass. She was nodding her head while the child danced around her, keeping up a steady stream of chatter. The woman wore a brave smile, but her eyes were profoundly sad.

Finn knew her thoughts were tripping ahead to the inevitable conclusion of this day. By her own admission, Pip was Maura’s daughter. Miss Gray had no legal grounds to claim guardianship, her care of the child for the last five years notwithstanding. He suspected she would not fight for custody even if she had the resources, which clearly she did not. To try to keep Pip would be an act of selfishness, and she had proven herself to be anything but selfish.

A life of status and privilege were Pip’s birthright; she wasn’t meant to live the modest life of a baker’s daughter. Yes, Miss Gray would want the best for Pip. The business with the trust revealed more about her character than anything else could have.

His heart went out to her. The defeated set of her shoulders and resigned expression told Finn she knew the Wallace family would claim the child. He breathed deeply and steeled his resolve. Whatever was done, he would use the best interests of the child as his guiding principle.

Delicate and graceful, he thought Miss Gray was a pretty woman in a gentle, unassuming way. There was a serenity about her Finn found intriguing. She had been the peaceful eye of the storm in the library, a calm center amid the questions and accusations that flew around her. He doubted most men of his acquaintance could have remained as composed.

His conviction that she was part of a scheme had faded with every witness until he was forced to accept the truth. Maura had run away from home to keep her pregnancy a secret. He closed his eyes and pictured his sister as he so often had... smiling. She had a beautiful, joyful, irrepressible smile, one that summoned an equally joyful response in others. It crushed him to know he would never see that smile again. Although he had long suspected she was gone, knowing it for certain felt entirely different.

Along with bone-deep sadness and confusion, the seething anger that he had directed toward Jane was flowing in a new direction. Who had fathered Maura’s child? How could he have used and abandoned her so callously? Finn vowed to hunt down the scoundrel and make him pay for his crimes. Anger was fortifying, far easier to deal with than grief, so he drew strength from it.

He tried to understand how it had happened. His sister had always been well chaperoned, her reputation carefully safeguarded. Finn’s mind began to run through possibilities of where and when. The faces of all her male acquaintances, of his and Cameron’s, flashed through his mind. He dwelt on every possible scenario, even the possibility that it could have been a servant or trusted family friend. Had she been forced?

No!
He would not spend the next five years as he had the last. Imagining the worst. Torturing himself with the grimmest scenarios he could conjure.

He turned his attention to the child in the garden. She bore an amazing resemblance to his sister and none at all to the woman who had raised her, yet the affection between them was obvious.

A movement on the far side of the terrace caught his eye. His mother was standing thirty feet away, staring at Pip with the strangest look on her face. Clearly startled, Jane returned the older woman’s dazed, grief-stricken expression. Then she looked up at the library window; her eyes met Finn’s as if seeking guidance.

“Cameron, we have a problem. Mother is in the garden.” He didn’t have to say anything more. Rutledge rose and flashed an all-encompassing glance across the room. “Gentlemen, we are finished here. I’ll contact you if I require anything further.”

“There’ll be no charges filed against the woman then, Your Grace?” one of the policemen asked.

“None,” Cameron confirmed stiffly. He fixed them with his most regal glare. “If
any
of this becomes public, the source will be self-evident and your positions with the force will be forfeit. Am I clear?
Nothing
is to appear in print.”

The officers nodded and silently left the room.

“You’re satisfied that she speaks the truth.”

“I am,” Finn affirmed. “The records, the witnesses, there are too many facts that support her story for it to be a lie.”

“I agree. It is time for us to see this through. I’ll have refreshments brought to the child and her moth… to Miss Gray while we explain everything to Mother.”

He gave instructions to a footman then stepped out into the spring sunshine to face the heartbreaking task of telling his mother that Maura would never be coming home.

Jane’s inquisitors stepped through the French doors onto the terrace and headed in opposite directions. It was obvious that a decision had been reached. Since there were no policemen bearing down on her, she allowed herself to relax for the first time that day.

They believed her.

Rutledge walked toward his mother, Lord Wallace toward Jane. His long, booted legs quickly ate up the distance. She stiffened. The insolent words he had spoken to her earlier in the day replayed in her mind. He was tall and broad, but it wasn’t only his imposing size that she found intimidating. He had the aura of a man accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. Jane tried to appear calm while she battled the impulse to scoop up Pip and run.

“Miss Gray, please accept our invitation to lunch,” Finn said.

Invitation to lunch?
Jane’s knees almost buckled.

The face that had glared at her all morning with antagonism and suspicion now held a gentle expression of sadness and sympathy.

“We must inform our mother of everything we’ve learned today. In the meantime, refreshments will be served in the library. There are picture books on the lower shelves. Please make yourselves at home. I’ll have Jenny locate some toys.”

“Thank you. Does this mean you believe me?” she asked softly.

“We do.”

“What now?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

Her simple question was anything but. It referred to the convoluted nature of her relationship to Pip. She was not related to the child by blood, yet she was her mother. The Duke and his brother were Pip’s uncles, but they were complete strangers. It was a mess and it would take the wisdom of Solomon to sort it all out.

“Miss Gray, we comprehend how important the child is to you, and you to her. Rest assured that we have no wish to distress either of you. Given the unprecedented nature of the situation, we are all in uncharted waters. You are obviously an intelligent woman, and therefore must understand that we have a legal claim and a moral obligation to see that the child...”

“Pip.”

“Beg pardon?”

“She is not ‘the child,’ her name is Pip.” Jane knew it was unwise to be trenchant, but she resented his high-handed attitude. If he was going to press a ‘legal claim’ to Pip, he had better treat his niece as the precious gift she was.

“Yes, of course. As I was saying, we have a legal claim and moral obligation to see that Pip is raised with every advantage and privilege due her by birth. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Well, that certainly cut to the heart of the matter.

Jane looked at Pip with tears in her eyes.

“I would, but you cannot expect me to leave her here without preparing her first. No matter how fine your home, my lord, you are a stranger to her. She would feel frightened and confused if I left her abruptly.”

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Miss Gray. Obviously we must discuss the transition. We will, but first I must join my mother and brother. No matter how this unfolds, you may rest assured that we’ve no wish to traumatize the chi… to traumatize Pip. With your permission, she will stay in Maura’s room tonight and, if your circumstance allows it, you may stay with her.  Tomorrow we’ll begin to spend time with Pip. It will be a new beginning for all of us.”

Lord Wallace’s words were equal parts invitation, suggestion, and command. He was telling, not asking, how it would be. The change in his attitude plainly revealed that she had risen in status from suspect to guest, but he also claimed authority over Pip. Jane would not walk out of Carlisle House with her daughter, and if she hoped to have any role in Pip’s life in the future, then she would have to be as agreeable and accommodating.

She swayed, suddenly light-headed. Lord Wallace reached out to steady her. His strong, warm hand should not have been comforting, attached as it was to the man who had taunted and accused her of terrible things all morning, but somehow it was.

Jane closed her eyes, willing a halt to the wail of grief rising in her throat.

“I love her,” Jane whispered.

“I know,” he said with genuine concern in his eyes.

“I FOUND THESE IN an old trunk in the attic,” Jenny said as she toted an armful of toys to where Jane and Pip sat reading books on the carpet. Pip’s eyes grew enormous when she saw the painted porcelain face of a doll that Jane would never have been able to give her. It wore a pink lace dress with a wide satin ribbon tied around its waist, and velvet slippers. Its pale blonde curls hung in crisp ringlets that framed unblinking blue eyes. She imagined Pip dressed like the doll.

Jane wondered how many women would soon take her place in Pip’s life? Would Rutledge hire a nurse, a governess, and a maid to see to his niece’s needs? She was only five years old. Jane had few memories from that age and wondered how long it would take Pip to forget her. How long before her face blended into the parade of caretakers and servants?

Defeated by the depressing thought, Jane leaned her back against the wall and let Jenny take over. The sleepless night and intensely emotional morning were taking their toll. Now that arrest was no longer imminent, she found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.

She smiled sadly when she looked at Pip, so excited to play with such beautiful toys. She was too young to wonder why she was in the Duke’s mansion or to notice that her mother was struggling to hide fear and grief. With Pip’s voice chattering in the background, Jane’s eyelids drooped and she soon drifted to sleep on a sunny patch of carpet.

IN THE BLUE SALON the duchess was sobbing. Her sons recounted Jane’s story and everything that had transpired since the locket surfaced. Slowly she composed herself and began to shift focus from the past to the future.

“What…” she hiccupped, “…What is the child’s name?”

“Pip.”

“How sweet. Is it short for Phillipa?”

“Piper, I believe. The child seems well mannered and healthy. Miss Gray seems to have done an admirable job, especially considering the challenges she must have faced raising a child alone. I gave my assurance that we would work together to smooth the transition,” Finn said.

There was no discussion whether they would claim Pip. It went without saying. “I thought it logical that Pip take Maura’s room and that her mother… that Miss Gray… stay with her, at least for tonight. After that, we’ll have to take each day as it comes.”

Cameron and his mother readily agreed.

“We owe that young woman a great debt,” she said. Her sons nodded gravely.

“Cameron, we must find a way to repay Miss Gray for what she has done. She took care of Maura for months and...” A notion suddenly seized the duchess. “Where is she? Where is my baby buried?” Tears began to fall anew.

“In the cemetery at St. Botolph’s, but her grave bears a different name. Maura told Miss Gray her name was Daphne Livingston. I’ll make arrangements to have her moved to the family plot in Somerset with a new headstone as soon as possible,” his voice caught and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “I agree we must offer Miss Gray some sort of compensation. Without her, who knows what might have come of Maura and her child.”

Finn frowned. “She may consider an offer of ‘compensation’ an insult. I hope you do not intend to use that word, Cameron.”

Rutledge sent Finn an exasperated look. “Of course I’ll be tactful. For someone who spent the entire day calling her a liar and a fraud, you have made an abrupt about face.”

“I have,” he admitted without rancor, knowing he had called her much worse than a fraud. He felt ashamed of how he had treated her. “My assessment of her has changed so much that I’m not certain she’ll accept anything from us. I watched her with the child. She’s devastated. We should determine her emotional state and her expectations before we propose any payment. I wouldn’t want her to think we are offering to buy the child. She has been Pip’s mother for five years. To hand her money and push her out the door would be unconscionable.”

“Again, not my intention,” Rutledge said dryly.

“Nor did I say it was. The truth is, you treated her with something akin to respect today; I’m sorry to say I was far less gracious.”

Mollified, Cameron said, “Your point is well taken, Finn. We’ll ascertain Miss Gray’s state of mind before we proceed.”

“I suspect the only thing she wants is to retain some contact with the child. I’m inclined to allow it. Nothing in her manner is rude or common.”

Cameron nodded. “She’s well spoken, reserved. Not at all what one might expect from someone of her background.”