Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

The sun rose above the horizon as Juliet, still wearing her wedding gown, sat in the drawing room beside her mother. Across from them sat Reverend Creassey, who glanced toward the window all too often, likely as nervous as Juliet felt. Why the man should be concerned was beyond her. From all she had learned about him, he had more secrets anyone who was not a vicar should have!

The door opened and Forbes entered the room. “My lady, a Mr. Grant here to speak with you and Miss Juliet. I believe he said he is a magistrate.”

“Send him in,” Juliet’s mother replied with a rehearsed sigh. Everyone played his or her part to perfection. They had to, for too much rode on what happened next.

A man entered, short and round with no more than a ring of hair around his head. Juliet could smell the heavy fragrance of smoke that clung to his clothing. He gave a deep bow. “My apologies for calling so early, but I imagine you understand the urgency.”

“Of course, Mr. Grant,” her mother replied. She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “Would you like some coffee? Tea? I suspect you are weary after a long night.”

“I appreciate the offer, my lady, but I must decline. May I sit?”

Her mother rose with a start. “Oh, yes, of course!” she replied. “Please, forgive me for not offering a seat upon your arrival. I am afraid I am not quite myself at the moment.”

The man sat on the only other chair, waiting for Juliet’s mother to sit first. “I do understand. Quite well.”

Her mother gave him a grateful smile. “You know Reverend Creassey, I am sure.”

Mr. Grant nodded at the vicar. “I do.”

“And my fiancé?” Juliet asked, blinking back tears. “Have you seen him? Is he safe? Tell me the prisoner did not harm him in any way!”

She brought a handkerchief to her face and sobbed into it. She had indeed missed her calling, for the magistrate commiserated with her, completely taken in by her performance. Or so she hoped. She sniffled and looked up at him expectantly. Perhaps she should not overplay her part!

“Juliet,” her mother admonished with a click of her tongue, “allow the man to speak.”

Juliet glanced at her mother before looking down at her hands in shame. “Yes, I am sorry, Mr. Grant. I did not mean to interrupt. Please, continue.”

The older man gave her a sympathetic smile. “I realize this is all very painful for you.” He turned to the reverend. “I understand you were in attendance for this wedding, Reverend Creassey.”

“I was,” the reverend replied. “I was to officiate the ceremony.”

“Would you please tell me what happened exactly?”

Reverend Creassey sighed. “We were just about to begin the ceremony when that heathen boy arrived. He began saying the most hateful things about Miss Juliet, using language better suited for a tavern! And in front of the women.” He gave a disgusted shake to his head. “Lord Rowe, being the brave and honorable man he is, struck the boy. The women became quite agitated, as you can imagine, so I ushered them outside to keep them from being struck by the flailing fists.”

The magistrate made notes using a pencil in a small book he had removed from his coat pocket. “I see,” he murmured. “And when you, Miss Lambert, mentioned ‘the prisoner’, to whom were you referring?”

“Why, Daniel Haskins, of course,” Juliet said, still sniffling. “He wanted to stop the wedding, the brute! He always wanted me, you see, and when I rebuffed him…”

“Juliet, dear,” her mother said, “I am sure Mr. Grant does not need to hear about the boy’s infatuation with you.” She turned to the magistrate. “I am sorry, sir. My daughter is quite distraught, as you can imagine. It is true that the young man had indeed been much too interested in Juliet.” She gave him a purposeful smile. “I would prefer that few people are made aware of that fact, if you please.”

“Of course, my lady,” Mr. Grant said. “What happened once you were outside, Reverend?”

“Once I calmed down the women,” Reverend Creassey continued, “I went to go back inside to see that the boy had not harmed the viscount, but I made it only into the foyer before I was forced back outside by heavy smoke. I had to physically stop Miss Juliet from running inside, she was so worried.”

Mr. Grant looked up from his notebook. “Do you have any idea how the fire started, Reverend?”

Juliet covered her mouth with a gasp. “The candles!” she said. “Oh, why did I insist we light so many candles? You see, because Lord Rowe had plans earlier in the day and I was unable to have a morning ceremony, I wanted to make it as bright as possible. As my fiancé and that horrible man fought, they must have knocked over some of the candles.” She turned to her mother. “Could this have been my fault?”

Her mother patted her hand. “Of course not, my dear. Do not blame yourself.”

“I agree,” Reverend Creassey replied. “If the boy had not arrived and started a fight, the candles would not have been a concern. Do you not agree, Mr. Grant?”

“Indeed,” the magistrate replied. “Please, continue, Reverend.”

Reverend Creassey nodded. “With smoke billowing from the house, I insisted the women return with me to Scarlett Hall so they would not be hurt. I also sent the family butler to Rumsbury for aid. Alas, I knew both men were lost once the windows shattered.” He shook his head sadly. “I have witnessed the aftermath of house fires before and…” He turned to Juliet. “I am sorry, Miss Juliet. I did not want to tell you until I was certain…”

“He is not…” She shook her head. “Please, tell me he is not dead!”

“Were there any other people in attendance?” Mr. Grant asked. “A servant or another guest to explain either of the two bodies?”

The reverend shook his head. “The viscount and Miss Juliet wanted to keep it a private occasion and Lady Lambert did not keep staff at the cottage. Therefore, the only people there are either here in this room or still at the cottage.”

“None of this tells me what has become of my fiancé,” Juliet said.

The magistrate pursed his lips. “We found two bodies amidst the ruins once the fire died down enough to enter, and with no other attendees, they could only have been Daniel Haskins, our escapee, and Lord Rowe. My condolences, Miss Lambert.”

Juliet threw herself into her mother’s arms and wailed in despair. “How can this be?” she cried, her voice muffled by her mother’s shoulder. “We were supposed to be married! Oh, why did this happen?”

Reverend Creassey cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should continue in the hallway, Mr. Grant. I believe the women need to be alone to grieve.”

Mr. Grant stood. “I agree.” He bowed to Juliet. “Again, my condolences for your loss. I will inform you of our findings as soon as I know, but I suspect it will be ruled accidental once the inquiry is concluded. I will say this, however. Your husband may well have been a hero. We found writings in Mr. Haskins’ cell, a manifesto of sorts, explaining his intentions to kidnap you. He seemed to believe you belonged to him and that he would do anything to have you.” He shook his head, clear disbelief on his features. “You are a lucky woman in that sense, but the loss of Lord Rowe will be felt for a very long time.”

Juliet sniffled as she looked up at the kindly man. “Thank you, Mr. Grant, for doing all you can to learn the truth.”

The man bowed and then followed Reverend Creassey from the room.

Once the men were gone, Juliet hurried to the door to listen, but all she could hear was murmuring. When she returned to the sofa, her mother pulled her into her arms once more.

“You certainly can be convincing,” her mother whispered in her ear, her tone filled with admiration. “I believe Mr. Grant accepted our account without hesitation.”

Juliet smiled up at her mother. “I agree,” she said. “I cannot believe this is all finally going to be over.”

“And you and Daniel will be together once again,” her mother said. “Just as it should be.”