Page 45 of A Father's Insistence

Chapter Twenty-One

Theodore

Joanna and I rest for no longer than half an hour before the need to find my sisters gets the better of both of us. We make our way down to the office where William is surrounded by papers, which he’s frantically searching through for any evidence of where my father could be hiding. Nicholas follows us down with a baby monitor in his hand and immediately picks up a pile of his own papers. He looks exhausted, and I can see the love both men have for my sisters. They may be quiet and tired of waiting, but they’ll be vicious when it comes to the rescue. A mobile sits next to William within easy access for when the call we’re all longing for comes through. In total, the girls have been missing for an hour, and it’s been the longest hour of all our lives. I know what my father is truly capable of, now. I would like to think his paternal nature would kick in and protect Tamara and Victoria, but after hearing the way he treated Joanna and ordered my execution, I know he’s incapable of compassion.

“I’m going to see if the chef can get us all a sandwich and a drink.” Joanna stands up on tiptoes and kisses my lips. “We need to keep our energy up.”

Nicholas looks up from his papers and signals it’s a good idea before asking, “Would you mind checking on Rose as well? She’s sleeping but is unsettled. I think she knows her mummy is missing. A feminine touch might help.”

“Of course.” Joanna lets go of my hand and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

“How is she?” William looks up from where he’s been studying a piece of paper that looks like a bank statement.

“Ok.” I pick up a couple of the sheets he’s yet to examine and start looking over them. “It’s going to take a while, but she’s strong.”

We fall into silence for a short while. Each of us are lost in our own thoughts as we search for something, anything, to tell us where my father could be. The paper I have lists financial transactions from his bank. Different amounts relating to donations, household expenditures, and a couple of costs for properties he owns.

“Has someone checked our property in Yorkshire?”

“Yes,” Nicholas replies. “It seems he moved Joanna’s keeper, Camilla Fentress, up there. She’s dead, killed by a bullet to the center of her forehead. He’s obviously been cleaning house, getting ready to take over from me.”

I remember the woman who was there when I was married to Joanna. She seemed kind, but I know better now. I won’t mourn her death. I hope she suffered.

“We’ve got to be missing something.” William throws down his pile of papers. “I need to get Tamara back. She’s pregnant, and Joanna warned Victoria about the Viscount and his fascination with her.”

“He made Joanna dress up as Tamara,” I blurt out.

“What?” William is on his feet and thumping his hands on the desk.

“She told me it was you, and you had a wig made like Tamara when she had long hair.”

William and Nicholas look at each other.

“Fuck!” Nicholas exclaims. “He’s sicker than I thought.”

“What?” I question.

“Tamara was taken by an old associate of the society, a perverted man named Lord West. We were late rescuing her, and the Viscount got there first. I didn’t understand it at that point, but I do now,” William explains.

“Sorry you’ve lost me?”

“While she was kidnapped, Tamara’s hair had been chopped short, but we never found the hair that was removed. We assumed it had been thrown on the fire, but I’ve now got a feeling perhaps it was taken by the Viscount.” William goes over to the corner of the room and pours a glass of what looks like brandy. He waves the decanter at me, and I nod to say yes.

“Perhaps what he did to Tamara’s mother twisted his mind. I wonder if it was the first time he’d raped a woman?” Nicholas joins us, and William pours him a glass.

“First time?” These two brothers know so much more of what is happening around me than I do. I’ve been kept in the dark and am catching up quickly.

“When he raped Elsie and conceived Tamara,” William informs me, and we all remain silent for a moment and take a sip of drink.

“I can’t help but think it was more. Possibly a result of the trials and what his parents put him through. If it wasn’t for Victoria, I’m not sure my mind would have survived what our father ordered me to do.” Nicholas muses into the bottom of his glass.

“I don’t understand how they’ve been able to get away with treating women the way they have for so long. When my father bought Joanna, he just assumed the marriage between me and her would take place.” Nicholas shrugs at me. “And it was never suggested I should be allowed to choose my own bride. Have generations of our families been so warped that they haven’t been able to see right from wrong?”

“Eight generations,” William mulls into his brandy glass.

“How many women have suffered at their hands?” I query and take another mouthful of the amber nectar.

“That we know of? Over the centuries, the sum total of the chosen ladies given to a Duke on his thirtieth birthday is…forty-three.” Nicholas answers before shutting his eyes as the pain of the number sinks in with William and me.

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