“Go back to the carriage, Livy,” he said tersely.
“But I—”
He took out a pistol. “Now.”
With obvious reluctance, she complied. He entered Longmere’s studio and didn’t like the stillness that greeted him. He cocked his weapon, crossing the antechamber to the nearest room. The door to the front parlor was cracked, and he pushed it open.
The curtains were drawn; in the dimness, easels and paintings lurked like exotic beasts. Seeing no movement, Ben crossed to the windows and parted the drapes. Light flooded in, illuminating the jungle-green walls, the splashes of color on canvas…the pair of gleaming boots sticking out from behind a divan.
Heart hammering, Ben went over. It was Longmere. The earl’s eyes were open, his hair a dark halo against the carpet. As Ben crouched to check for a pulse he knew would not be there, his gaze caught on the bottle tucked in the dead man’s hand. He read the familiar label.
Laudanum.
Footsteps made him jerk upright, and he turned to see Livy dashing into the room.
“I couldn’t wait…” Her gaze fell on Longmere. “Zounds. Is he…?”
“Dead,” Ben said grimly. “Of a laudanum overdose, it appears.”
21
1845, Fall
Livy is 16; Ben is 28
Dear Hadleigh,
It has been three months since I saw you last, and I hope you have been getting my letters. The ones I have been sending you twice a month. Mama says—and Papa agrees—that I must not pester you while you are in mourning, but I hope you find my correspondence a comfort and not a bother.
I wish I had more entertaining tales with which to regale you but, alas, you must content yourself with my schoolmiss adventures. Things have improved considerably at Mrs. Southbridge’s Finishing School now that Glory and Fiona are here with me. Sally Sackville is still up to her tricks—next time I will tell you what she did to poor Miss Tomlinson, a new pupil—and she even tried to give me, Fi, and Glory a mean-spirited moniker: the Willflowers.
Unfortunately for Sally, my friends and I like the name and have decided to keep it.
I hope you are sleeping and eating better and that the country air is improving your constitution. If you wish to reply, I will be at our London address until October. After that, we will return to Scotland. We will be hosting our usual Christmas and Hogmanay celebrations at Strathmore Castle, and you are invited, of course, but by no means obligated to attend (although I do hope you will).
Your ever faithful,
Livy
1846 Early Spring
Dear Hadleigh,
We missed you at Hogmanay, and I hope the Yuletide season brought you some cheer. Wherever you were, I hope you were not alone. I still have not received a reply from you, but I did see Aunt Beatrice, who said she paid you a brief visit. She seemed concerned about you, as any sister rightly should be. Yet when I suggested that I might visit you, she said something about leading a horse to water. In her example, I believe you are the horse, and I am not to try to force you to do anything.
Thus, I shall continue to wait for your return. Patience, as you know, is not one of my virtues, but for your sake I will strive for self-improvement. Mama read the last sentence over my shoulder and started laughing… I do not see what she finds so amusing.
Your ever faithful,
Livy
1846, Summer
Dear Hadleigh,
Thank you ever so much for the lovely birthday gift!
Even before I read the accompanying note, I knew it was from you. Who else would understand my fascination with spiders and send me such a marvelous book on the subject? The engravings are wonderful and delightfully lifelike. I could not resist showing it off to my friends at school. Of course, Sally Sackville had to butt in to comment on my “peculiar interests”…so I showed her the drawing of the Theraposa blondi (the Goliath bird-eating tarantula).
Her resulting case of the vapors made your present worth its weight in gold.
Now that I am seventeen, preparations are underway for my debut. Soon I will be presented at Court, and I have been practicing my curtsy for the Queen. Suitors have also begun to call, which is more a testament to Papa’s title and my dowry than any personal attractions I can lay claim to.
In this regard, I am sad to report that I haven’t changed much since you saw me last. Mama says I am a late bloomer, but I fear I might not bloom at all. I take comfort in knowing that, while I might not be the prettiest blossom, I am at least a hardy Willflower.
Your ever faithful,
Livy
P.S. My family and I visited Aunt Bea’s country estate last month, and I took my brothers swimming in the pond. Remember the swimming lesson you gave me there? As a tribute to your teachings, I dunked Chris and Will quite thoroughly. You would have been proud.
1846, Winter
Dear Hadleigh,
This will be the last letter I write. I fear your ongoing silence is a reply in and of itself, and the last thing I wish is to be a nuisance to you. Please know that I will continue to think of you and pray for your happiness and health. Whenever you are ready, I will be here.
Your ever faithful,
Livy
1847, Spring
My Dearest Livy,
I beg your pardon for my silence and thank you for your many letters. Even though I did not reply, I read each of them, often more than once. They were beacons in the darkness and gave me hope during what has been a long and rather unexpected journey. I am pleased to report that I am now recovered and plan to return to Society next month. It is my fondest wish that your face will be among the first that I see, little friend.
Please convey my regards to your family.
Your servant,
Hadleigh
22
The
