Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,5

Trust me, you’ll be exhausted and fit for nothing but bed when I’ve finished explaining the strange nature of events.”

The strength it took to keep a tight rein on his emotions left him weary, though he doubted he would sleep tonight.

“Leave your greatcoat on the chair by the window, and I shall pour you a drink.” Sophia’s weak smile failed to hide her apprehension. Clearly, this was difficult for her, too. “P-port or brandy?”

“Brandy.”

He could not drink port without recalling the time they stole his father’s decanter, keen to experience why the fortified wine made men spout nonsense. The prank led to their first kiss. And despite the heartache that followed, nothing could eradicate the beauty of the moment.

While she ventured to the rosewood chiffonier, he removed his coat and draped it over the chair. He poked the fire until she joined him, though she placed the brandy goblet on the side table, not in his hand.

“I suppose I should start with what happened while you were away in Belgium,” she said, lowering into the wingback chair. Evidently, she was just as keen to get this over with.

“Held hostage in Belgium,” he corrected, taking a seat at the far end of the sofa. “There’s a vast difference.”

“Yes.” Sophia stared at the flames crackling in the hearth before turning to face him. “Of course, you’re aware my father gave permission for Jessica to wed Mr Archer. It was assumed we would marry first. When we learnt you were amongst the casualties at Waterloo, Father insisted they wait until I was settled.”

She spoke with an air of detachment, as if updating him on the local gossip.

“I recall Archer being an impatient man with burning ambition. But then he was a little older than Jessica if memory serves me right.”

“Yes. He was twenty-two when my father made the announcement that was to ruin all our lives.”

Finlay inhaled a sharp breath. If he hoped to help with her dilemma, he had to focus on Jessica and not on their misfortune.

“Your father loved you dearly and could not have foreseen how events would unfold.”

“No, I’m thankful he is no longer here to see how dreadful things have become.”

Finlay snatched his glass. He swallowed a mouthful of brandy and welcomed the burn. “What happened after your father insisted on a lengthy betrothal?”

Sophia sighed. “I shall spare you every crude detail. Mr Archer’s impatience got the better of him and he seduced Maud. Jessica found them writhing in Maud’s attic room. She fled in a blind panic, tripped and tumbled—” Her voice broke, cracking like the poor girl’s bones hitting the boards.

An internal war raged.

Despite Sophia’s distress, he could not pull her into an embrace.

“I presume Archer thought himself in love with Maud,” he said in the measured tone he used when distancing himself from clients. “Why else would he marry her?” He was desperate to ask about Jessica’s health but wanted to delay the onset of Sophia’s tears.

“Guilt. He married Maud out of guilt.”

Finlay decided not to mention that gentlemen often took advantage of the hired help. His colleague’s last case involved a similar situation. No one would have expected Archer to marry the girl, though Finlay would have flogged the profligate had he been at home.

“So, Archer married Maud as a form of reparation?” he said.

“No. He married Maud to protect Jessica.”

“Forgive me. I’m confused.”

“J-Jessica hit her head in the fall and has not been of sound mind since.” Sophia blinked back tears.

Damn it!

Focus on the case.

“Not of sound mind?” He was keen to know who made the diagnosis, keen to judge the situation for himself. “Is that why a doctor visits weekly?” Sophia spent an inordinate amount of time in town. She would not leave Jessica were it not safe to do so.

“It’s a rather unusual condition. Sometimes she seems like the happy girl of old. Other times it’s as if she is possessed by a wickedness that makes her as devious as the devil. Then she behaves as if she were ten and I find her scrumping in the orchard, or paddling her feet in the moat.”

“To summarise, she is unpredictable.”

“So unpredictable I can no longer sleep peacefully at night.”

Finlay had experience with afflictions of the mind but would judge Jessica’s condition without prejudice. Prevalent men in society needed little evidence of strange behaviour to commit a woman to an asylum. No doubt it was the reason Jessica lived in the heart of an eerie wood, far from the nearest coaching inn, far