The Rakehell Regency(320)
"In the meantime, I shall keep Jonathan busy with his parish duties. And it's high time I did something sensible about Jane. I think the best plan is for her to go to a special institution, where doctors and nurses can actively help her. I shall get Jonathan to deal with the matter, so that he can be settled in his own mind that he has done everything he can to help her and Sophie.
"Perhaps he'll see the hopelessness of the situation. Having Jane in a house with servants waiting on her night and day hasn't been bad, but I believe it's given him false hopes. That it's created an illusion of domesticity which can never be possible.
"And as much as Jane loves Sophie, it's not healthy for the child to be with her mother for much longer, not when Jane is in obvious decline. She can certainly visit on her good days, but I need to make better arrangements for her too."
Vanessa nodded, and moved over from her chair to pat him on the shoulder. "Clifford and I will do anything we can to help."
Thomas gave her a grateful smile. "I shall call upon you both if need be. But for the moment, let Jonathan do it. It will either take his mind off his problems, or force him to confront the contrast between what is, and what can be."
The following day, Jonathan left Bath, charged with the solemn tasks the Duke had given him, and more than ready to leave the place that had caused him so much joy and pain. Sarah went with him, but promised to see all of the others soon.
Clifford and Vanessa were returning for a short time to Stone Court, but would be at the Duke's townhouse for the start of the Season proper. "We'll be up the day before the Royal Academy exhibition. If Vanessa's feeling up to it, of course."
Thomas kissed her hand. "Many congratulations."
"And to you and Charlotte," Clifford said with a wink. He shook Thomas's hand, and they headed off back home.
Charlotte supervised the closing down of the townhouse, whilst Elizabeth saw to all the packing. Thomas wrote to the Horse Guards and the Admiralty, asking for information on the Earl of Ferncliffe, Herbert Paxton, Captain Breedon, and several other men of their acquaintance he had lost track of, including his cousin from Ireland, Stewart Fitzgerald.
Thomas had not seen the Duke of Clancar since before the Siege of Cuidad Rodrigo, when Thomas and Clifford had been so seriously injured. Killed, if Jonathan's account of the events on that day were to be believed.
But then, a great deal had not been cleared up about that day. Thomas had been quite badly injured and happy to go home, to put the war behind him. But Paxton's actions in January 1812 had caused nothing but chaos for his family. Two of Paxton's known associates now turning up at about the same time, in his own quiet corner of Somerset, should have given him pause. His happiness with Charlotte, and the death of Paxton, had lulled him into a false sense of security.
The fact was that Paxton had committed treason. Someone had lured him into it, and he had not acted alone. He had been too much of a coward. No, someone else had been involved. But who? Though he had lost Portugal and Spain, Napoleon was still winning yet more victories in the East, only increasing in power so far has he could tell.
Thomas certainly did not want to go back to the Army again, especially not without Clifford and Jonathan. But he would do his duty if called upon.
He was also determined to find some answers as to what had happened to the Davenports, for all of them had vanished without trace during the war, and one of them was the rightful Earl of Ferncliffe.
He also needed to discover the truth about the events upon that fateful day when he and the Rakehells had been betrayed. Thomas wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling that all of Jonathan's and Pamela's happiness might well depend upon it.
Chapter Twenty-six
The Duke of Ellesmere's carriage pulled up outside the small ivy-clad stone cottage.
Jonathan felt the same sick pang he always did every time he looked at the picturesque domicile which housed such horrors inside.
Sarah took his hand and squeezed it hard, as if the physical pain could block out his emotional anguish.
He gave her a wan half smile, and returned the pressure more gently.
"It really is for the best."
"I wish to God I could believe that," he said bitterly.
"Medical science makes great inroads every day. Perhaps they might be able to--"
"You sound like Blake Sanderson, and every other doctor we've ever consulted. But you and I both know it's hopeless."
"Yet you still continue to hope?" Sarah said with an ironic little smile.
He shrugged. "It's all I have left to me."
"Jonathan, you know I've always loved Jane as a sister, but how can anyone reasonably expect you to keep faith after--"