"In any event, Paxton prostituted her all over London for money and in fact the solicitors cut her off without a penny due to her unsuitable conduct once they learned of what had befallen her.
"How unkind! That only made her situation so much worse!"
The Duke nodded grimly. "Aye, that it did. She became ill, and with child. Elizabeth was left in sole possession of the fortune once she came of age, and forbidden to have anything to do with her disgraced sister."
"The poor girls!" Pamela shook her head and sighed.
"Indeed. It was all just too much for Jane. She's mad, though it nearly kills me to say it about my own sister. There's no hope of recovery. She has quite lost her senses, raving much of the time. When she's calm she attempts to look after her daughter, and embroider. She always loved to do needlework." He gave a sad smile of reminiscence.
"But the raving spells are becoming increasingly frequent as the disease takes over. So you see, despite Jonathan giving his word and trying to live up to it, he and Jane could never be allowed to marry, no matter what."
"No, indeed," Pamela said, horrified at the very thought.
The Duke moved back to his seat, and drained his teacup, then poured more for them both.
"Yet Jonathan will not abandon Jane, even though I have told him that it's over. That I release him from all promises and obligations. That I don't expect him to give up his whole life for her. He blames himself for not being here. He says that it's all part of his bargain with God."
Her brows knit. "Bargain? I don't understand."
Thomas gave a tight smile. "It's part of the reason he became a vicar as well. You know we were all in the war together?"
She nodded, leaning forward on the edge of her seat, eager to get to the bottom of Jonathan's true character and inner workings of his mind at last.
"He had a terrifying experience. He thought Clifford and I were dead. Killed in action. He begged God to bring us back, and vowed he would give up anything if only we could live. Well, we pulled through. So he's kept his end of the bargain, so far as he sees it."
Pamela stared at him. "And were you? Were you dead?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper.
The Duke sighed. "I have only ever discussed this with two other people, my wife and Clifford. The honest answer is, I don't know. I think I was. I could feel myself slipping away. Then there was a hand reaching out to me. It was Jonathan, praying over me."
"So he thinks these things are all connected in some way?" she said, wonder filling her tone.
"Not least because the man who seduced my sister was our acting commanding officer who sent us into the breach to be killed."
She clapped her hand to her chest. "Paxton sent you all to die?"
"Well, as many of us as tried to storm the city. We were to support the Forlorn Hope, the first men to try to go in and pave the way for the others. Paxton told us the way had been prepared, that the breach was wide open and we would meet no resistance. He had been promoted in the field when our original commanding officer had to be replaced--"
"I don't understand." She rubbed her aching temples, trying to make sense of it all. "The three of you were inseparable. Why would anyone want to kill a good man like Clifford, or Jonathan?"
"We were sold out to the French."
She looked at him pityingly. "I see."
They sat in silence for a time. "And your sister Jane? Is there any hope at all?"
Thomas sighed. "None. The disease cannot be cured, only mitigated. She does well when she's not agitated. When there are no men around. Or no breaks in her routine.
"When Jonathan moved her recently, to a different place, a sanitarium that would let her keep Sophie with her, she was distraught, as Ferncliffe saw. She seems to be calmer now. But no. As much as it pains me to say it, she is only getting worse. And she has no idea who Jonathan is. Or even me any more at times."
She was about to ask where the sanitarium was when Thomas demanded, "Wait, hang on a moment. Where did Ferncliffe say he had seen Jonathan and my sister again?"
"Bath, about six weeks ago."
He stared at her. "But she wasn't at Bath. And we moved her just after you left for Town, not six weeks ago."
Pamela stared at him in confusion. "What are you saying?"
Thomas leapt to his feet. "That he knows where she is, drat it! She's in danger!"
"From Ferncliffe?" she asked in shock. "But why?"
The Duke was already half-way out the door. "Because he knew Herbert Paxton, and Paxton didn't speak French. Ferncliffe must have been party to the plot, and knew my sister afterwards. Damn it all, he was one of the nest of traitors!"