Page 85 of The Curious Story of the Missing Lady
They bid their farewells to the magistrate and left the court. On their way out, the little clerk at the desk rose, and with a gracious smile on his face, bowed with exaggerated flourish, then sat back down—scribbling on one, scribbling on the other ...
Chapter 59
Giles, the first footman, delivered the note to her on a tray.
“Where did this come from?”
“Delivered by courier just now, M’Lady.”
She took the envelope and sliced it open with a letter opener she got from her chest of drawers.
Lady Madeline,
I must meet with you regardin an urgent matter. There is dire news to report. I can’t have no one listenin in, so the meetin has to be in secret. It has to do with your reputashun bein in danger.
I will be at Thornhill Semetery at eleven o’clock tomorra morn. There will be a burial there so we will be safe amongst people and clergy.
A friend
A sick feeling took over her body. She put the letter down with a trembling hand.
The handwriting was decidedly feminine, but slovenly of hand as well as form. This was all she could tell of her mysterious correspondent, and she stomped her foot in frustration over it.
She paced the room, thinking of all that had happened and all that could yet happen. She was on poor terms with Oliver. Was this about him? And then there was the part about her ‘reputashun’. What about her reputation? Perhaps some rumour was in circulation regarding her incarceration at Lady Elizabeth’s house.
She picked up the letter again. Lady Elizabeth couldn’t have anything to do with this, could she?
How she longed for Oliver now. His cool-headedness would surely be a comfort. Then there was Lord Peter’s gallantry and soothing gentility. He was passionate, to be sure, but it was a passion guided by fortitude. And there was more. In the night, outside her window, he had revealed himself to her so plainly, so tenderly, and endeared himself to her in such a way as to make her feel as though he occupied a place in her heart that had always been prepared for him. She found herself pained by the longing.
No. She shut her eyes tightly and put him out of her mind. It was Oliver she needed now. Her rock. She would humble herself before him. She was a foolish girl without a guiding light in her life. How could she be trusted to make the right decisions regarding a fitful suitor? He was her rock, yes. And she would reach out to him and drag him back to her, and she would indeed be humble.
With renewed courage, she thought of Thornhill Cemetery and its wide, rolling fields, the steeple of the church in view from all corners, and the prospect of a funeral party and clergymen about. Yes, she had been abducted on her wedding day in a house full of bustling staff and pending visitors. But she’d been alone with Lisbelle. This time, she’d be in a cemetery in the midst of a burial. Surely, an abduction would have to be orchestrated by a legion in such an area as that.
The thought pressed her mind:reputation.She knew it would not leave her. Not until she met with the girl.
Chapter 60
The Stamford Parish Church overlooking Thornhill Cemetery was a simple, limestone edifice with a towering steeple. Madeline had hired a coach to take her here. The sun was high and bright on her face and the air smelled sweetly of lilies and honeysuckle.
But all the beauty of nature and all the joyous scents could not wipe away the stain of death that had spread across the breadth of this place. It was death, after all, that fed the flowers that grew freely about, and this fact twisted her stomach. It was death that brought the comfort of people to the corner of the ground in a congealed mass of black, like ants gathered over a drop of honey. She watched them from a distance, standing before a solitary grave. She was heartily sorry for them, whoever they were.
She looked at the grave before her. It belonged to a woman called Martha Sedgewick.
Called by Our Heavenly King at the tender Age of one and twenty. May we number her Light among the Stars.
Who was she? And to be called to Heaven at twenty-one, a year younger than she that stood here beholding the grave to pass the time. What had she done to deserve such a fleeting and base acknowledgement?
Madeline said a little prayer for the girl, and thanked God for giving her to her family – however briefly – for by the inscription it seemed she’d had a spark in her soul that was bright enough to be longed for forever.
She looked up and saw the figure of a girl approaching. And she’d been so lost in her thoughts about the poor creature that lay at her feet that for a mere moment, she thought this might be her ghost gliding swiftly towards her. She came to her senses quickly enough, but her unease remained nonetheless.
“Lady Madeline?” said the girl? She put a hand over her eyes to shield the sun.
“Yes it is, and who, may I ask, are you?”
“That ain’t your concern,” said the girl. “I’m scared, you see. And I don’t want nobody to know that I’ve been here.”
“I understand,” said Madeline, scrutinizing her conversant from head to foot.
