"She came to you?" I frowned. "So she already knew your purpose?"
He nodded and crossed his arms. "I don't know how. It may have been August's doing. But she gave me a time and place and true to her word, you were there."
"But what of Vi?"
He shrugged. "I assumed the governess enlisted her help to get you into the woods that day. I saw her in the cottage, you know."
"Before or after you kidnapped me?"
"After. I was about to carry you away when her face appeared at the window. She looked...odd. Sad, perhaps, or conflicted. I don't think her involvement was a decision she came to lightly, if that helps."
"I looked out for her every day of my life. I ensured Miss Levine never became cross with her, only with me. If she couldn't complete a task set by our tutors, I'd help her. If she was cold, I gave her my coat. Yet she abandoned me like I was nothing more to her than a doll she no longer wanted to play with. It doesn't matter how much she was involved. She just was."
I walked off and headed for the lake. Jack came up beside me, and I swiped away my tears. He shortened his stride to walk in time with my steps and he didn't take his gaze off me. Not that I was looking at him, but I could feel him watching me.
"I'm sorry I forced her to do it," he said. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I thought it was best you didn't know. Can you forgive me?"
"I can if you don't lie to me again." I wanted him to talk to me about his past, about being Jack Cutler before he became Jack Langley, but he didn't. Until such time that he did, we could never be true friends, trusting one another implicitly.
It would seem I no longer had a single friend in the world. I turned my face to the lake, but didn't continue on. "Why would Vi betray me like that?" I asked. "Particularly if she were reluctant to do so."
"I can only guess."
"And what is your guess?"
"That she was given no choice, either by your governess or by Lord Wade himself."
"Lord Wade?" I chewed my lip. None of it made sense. Not Vi's involvement, not her father's and certainly not Langley's. I was still skeptical about his motives, even though I was now sure Jack and Sylvia weren't party to them. "How did Langley know where to find another fire starter?"
"He told me that Bollard had heard rumors in the village about a girl kept in an attic in a manor house who could set things on fire. He thinks the villagers must have heard it on the grapevine from the Windamere servants. It's not far from here. I'm sure some of the Harborough residents have been to the village near Windamere. You don't believe that?"
"I'm not sure. What troubles me is that it has happened now. Why?"
He shrugged. "The rumors may have been around for years, but Bollard has only just overheard them."
"Perhaps, but...don't you think it's odd that it coincided with the theft of your uncle's papers?"
"You think the two are linked?"
"I don't know, but it is strange that your friend was commissioned to perform the burglary right after I moved in, and that nothing of monetary value was stolen, only some of your uncle's papers. What was in those papers? How did the man who hired Patrick know where to look and what to look for? He gave Patrick some very specific instructions."
Jack pressed his lips together and put his hands on his hips. After a moment of staring at the lake, he spun round. "You're right. Too many questions." He strode off back to the house.
I picked up my skirts and ran to catch up with him. "Are you going to confront Langley?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm coming with you."
CHAPTER 12
"There you both are!" Sylvia said as Jack and I entered the house via the courtyard. "I've been looking for you. Were you in those horrible old ruins again?"
"I thought you liked the ruins," I said. "You've certainly painted them often enough."
"Only because there is little else to paint hereabouts. It's depressingly cold and damp in winter. I suppose that's why you like it."
"It does have a certain appeal," Jack said, absently. He seemed eager to get away, but I could see that she needed to talk about something.
"Is everything all right?" I asked.
"Yes. No. That is, I wanted to apologize to you, Hannah."
"Me? Why?"
"Because when it was revealed that you weren't Lady Violet, my reaction may have made it seem as if I were..."
"Disgusted?" Jack offered, crossing his arms and lifting one eyebrow.
"I was shocked," she said. "Why are you smirking at me like that, Jack? This is between Hannah and me."
"Anything that concerns Hannah also concerns me." He leaned down so that he was nose to nose with her. "And I just wanted to see how you'd get out of this with your polite façade intact. I seem to recall you having a similar reaction when August took me in. You never apologized to me for being...shocked."
"Then you recall incorrectly." She sniffed. When he smiled, she shoved his shoulder. "Go away. Haven't you got better things to do than torment me?"
"As a matter of fact, we do."
"We're going to speak to your uncle and get some answers." I grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. I wanted her to know I appreciated her seeking me out to apologize. It meant more than she would ever know. "Would you like to come?"
"Not particularly," she said. But when Jack and I walked off, she followed.
Jack went to barge past Bollard as he opened his uncle's door. The servant put out his arm to stop him, but Jack simply squared up to him, smiled, and politely said, "Move, or I'll set your shirt on fire."
"Let them in," Langley said with a frustrated sigh. "What is it, Jack? I thought we already discussed the rebuilding arrangements."
"Is that where you went this morning?" Sylvia asked.
Jack nodded. "I've contracted a builder from the village. He's going to work off the original plans for Frakingham and replicate the destroyed section."
She pulled a face. "Perhaps he could make it a little less Gothic. Arches and gloom are out of fashion."
"That's not why we're here," Jack said to Langley. "We need to talk about what Patrick said."
Langley must have had a spare wheelchair stored somewhere because he sat in another, smaller one, the first no doubt having been reduced to ashes. He had wheeled around to face us when we entered, but now he turned away. "It's none of your business."
"It bloody well is!" Jack grasped the handles of the chair and pulled it around so that his uncle faced him. Langley's nostrils flared, but his gaze didn't flicker as he glared back at his nephew. "Who is the one-armed man?" Jack ground out. "Who hired Patrick to burgle you?"
"It's all in hand—"
"Tell us!"
Langley folded his hands in his lap. "I appreciate your concern for me—"
"I don't want to pursue this for you." Jack straightened and closed his fists at his sides, but not before I saw the glow of his fingers. He was furious, but controlling it. Barely. "I want to get to the bottom of this for Hannah's sake. The theft may have something to do with her abduction."
"What makes you think that?"
"The timing is too coincidental for the events not to be linked. Since you orchestrated her kidnap, and I suspect you know who the one-armed gentleman is, you must know why there's a connection."
"Jack," Langley said on another sigh. The wrinkles around his eyes folded in on each other and his shoulders slumped forward. "The man is dangerous and shouldn't be trifled with. I contacted the constabulary after I realized who it was from Bollard's account. Let the detective inspector do his job."
"The inspector is incompetent. He didn't question all of the staff after the burglary."