"The woman's references were impeccable," her father interjected. The frown on his face intensified while he thought about the treachery.
"We now know she'd gotten rid of you, mi'lady. She must have had cold feet at the last minute. She didn't have any money to support herself without a job. The authorities found her in a tenement building. She'd been strangled. It's believed she came home and interrupted a robbery."
Elliott abruptly stood up. "That's enough talk about the past. George, I'll sign these vouchers tomorrow."
Mary Rose could see how distressed her father had become.
"Will you have time to go riding today, Father?" she asked, thinking to turn his attention.
He believed it was a splendid idea. Mary Rose excused herself and went up to her bedroom to change into her riding habit. She found Harrison hunched over the desk, pouring over old papers again.
"I met MacPherson," she told him after she'd shut the door behind her. "Are you certain he's the one behind the kidnapping? He seems to be too refined and timid to ever do anything so bold."
He rubbed his neck to ease the stiffness, rolled his shoulders, and then stood up. "Hell, I don't know anymore. Douglas told me the man he saw was dressed in evening attire, and MacPherson was supposed to have gone to the theater with friends."
"Everyone dresses for the evening."
"Not staff."
She sighed. "You're looking for the discrepancy in one of the charitable donations, aren't you? Have you had any luck yet?"
"There are almost a dozen organizations I've never heard of," he answered. "I'll check them out to make certain they exist."
"And if they are all credible?"
"I'll start looking somewhere else."
"Why is it so important for you to find out?"
"Are you serious?"
"You seem to be obsessed with this, Harrison. It happened years ago, and if the authorities weren't able to make a connection between MacPherson and the nursemaid, why do you think you can?"
"None of them talked to Douglas," he answered. "Your brother's description of the man he saw sounds like MacPherson, doesn't it?"
"He could have been describing a thousand men. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You're exhausted. You can't keep up this pace much longer. Every spare minute you have you spend poring over old documents. Why is it so important to you?"
He didn't know how to make her understand. "I have to finish it," he snapped.
She tried not to be offended by his irritation. Exhaustion was the reason for his behavior.
"Do you have to leave tomorrow?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Where are you going now?" she asked when he reached for his jacket.
"To the office, sweetheart. Quit worrying about me."
"I wanted to talk to you about our future. Will you have time tonight?"
"I'll make time," he promised. "Now, quit worrying about me."
He had become as abrupt and agitated as her father had been when she'd asked questions about that night so many years ago.
He kissed her good-bye and then left the room. His own personal demons followed him. He felt he had a debt to pay, and if he had become obsessed, it was only because he owed it to his savior to finish what the jackals had started. Harrison couldn't rest until he knew for certain that MacPherson wasn't the mastermind behind the crime. He had to at least try to solve the mystery because of the kindness Elliott had shown his father.
The debt consumed him.
The following afternoon Mary Rose happened to be crossing the entryway when the mail was being delivered. She was so eager to find out if any of the letters were from her brothers, she all but snatched them out of the butler's hands.
She spotted Adam's handwriting right away, of course, and let out a cry of joy. Then she ran back upstairs to read his letter in privacy. She knew she was going to weep and didn't want anyone to see her.
Adam wondered why she hadn't written. He told her he realized she must be busy, but it wasn't like her to be unthoughtful, and she surely must know her brothers worried about her. Couldn't she spare a few minutes to pen them a note?
She was horrified by the anguish her brothers must be going through. She was disheartened too. Why hadn't her brothers received her letters?
Had they been intercepted before they left the house? No, of course they hadn't been. Her relatives wouldn't deliberately be cruel, and it would be a grave insult for her to ask.
She wrote back right away, sealed her envelope, and then tucked it into the pocket of her coat. Ann Marie came into the bedroom then.
"Where are you going, mi'lady? Have you forgotten your lessons?"
Mary Rose smiled. "Missing one afternoon learning how to run a household won't upset my aunt, will it? Will you send Eleanor to me?"
"She's helping to organize your aunt's invitations. Do you wish me to interrupt her?"
"No," Mary Rose replied. She was already going to suffer Aunt's Lillian's ire for missing her lessons. Taking her pride and joy away would only send her into a lather. Eleanor was making herself indispensable to her relative. Mary Rose was glad the two women were so fond of each other, for while her aunt was busy giving Eleanor orders, she left Mary Rose alone.
"I feel like a nice, brisk walk. Would you like to come with me?"
The maid eagerly nodded and went to fetch her coat. Mary Rose had an ulterior motive for asking her to accompany her. She wanted to send a wire to her brothers letting them know she was all right, and she needed Ann Marie to help her find the telegraph office.
She also had another favor to ask. "You have Wednesday afternoons off, don't you?"
"Yes, mi'lady," Ann Marie answered. "And every other Saturday morning as well."
"Would you be willing to post my letters for me when you're away from the house? I would really appreciate your help, Ann Marie."
The maid looked surprised by the request, but didn't argue with her mistress. She agreed to do as she was asked and promised not to mention the favor to any of the family.
"Please don't mention I'm sending a wire either," she asked.
"Is there some reason you don't trust the staff, mi'lady?"
"No, of course not. I just don't want my letters… lost. My father becomes upset when I talk about my family back in Montana. Seeing my letters on the hall table would only distress him."
"And upset your aunts as well," Ann Marie added with a nod. Mary Rose felt much better after she'd formulated her plans. Adam's letter made her smile all the rest of the day.
Her days and nights fell into a pattern throughout the winter months. She was always sure she lingered in the foyer until the mail was delivered so she would be certain her letters weren't accidentally misdirected, and twice a week she gave her letters to Ann Marie to post for her.
Her sleeping habits drastically changed. It wasn't possible for her to dance half the night away and continue to get up from her bed at the crack of dawn.
There were other noticeable changes about her as well. She became extremely quiet and nervous, jumped at the drop of a hat, and never, ever made a comment without first weighing every word. Her relatives couldn't have been happier with her. They obviously didn't notice the strain she was under. They believed she was making the transition to her new life as Lady Victoria completely. She was the rave of London society. Her circle of acquaintances extended, and some days she received three invitations to parties being held on the same night. She was constantly coming or going or changing her clothes. Some days there wasn't even time to think. She liked those days most of all because when she was occupied rushing about, she didn't have time to worry about what was happening to her.
There were many lavish, wonderful things for her to enjoy, and she certainly appreciated the luxurious life she suddenly had. She began to soften in her attitude toward her Aunt Lillian as well. When the dour woman wasn't in one of her bossy, you-mustn't-ever-say-that-again moods, she was actually likable. She had a bizarre sense of humor too. She shared stories with her niece about the mischief she'd gotten into as a child, and some of the incidents she recounted made Mary Rose laugh.