The Secret of Hollyfield House by Jude Bayton (first ebook reader TXT) 📕

“What happened?”

“Something changed. He became distant. It began with him not showing up at our arranged meetings, a place we frequented for more than two years.” Her eyes watered once again. She set down the cup and saucer to retrieve her handkerchief.

I had little experience being on the receiving end of such a confidence. Especially to a person with Lady Mountjoy’s standing within society. I could offer no counsel to this woman. What did she expect me to say?

“Jillian, I know you wonder at my telling you.” She sniffed and took a sip of tea. “I speak of my secret because of what has happened recently. When I learned of Jareth’s death, I was utterly devastated.”

“I can imagine.” And I could after what she had just told me.

She held up a gloved hand. “No, please let me finish. I was devastated but also immensely relieved.”

I almost dropped my cup. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me correctly. Though I loved him, Jareth Flynn was a scoundrel. For the past two months, he had been blackmailing me.”

Chapter Eighteen

I WAS INCREDULOUS. HER COMMENT was the last thing I expected to hear. “Blackmailing you—why?”

She set down her cup. “Because of our affair, of course. Jareth threatened to tell Monty everything, unless I paid him a weekly stipend.” She looked at me sternly. “Please do not tell me I was foolish to pay him. I had no choice. I was guilty and consequently paid the price for that indulgence.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Of course not,” she gasped. “And if you speak a word of it to anyone, I shall deny it all! Look,” her tone softened. “I did not plan to ever speak of it, Jillian. But with what happened to Marabelle, I am unnerved, though I cannot tell you why. You are a bright young woman, and Victor remarked that you and Dominic are making enquiries about Jareth’s death—which is understandable with Billy in such awful trouble. I wanted you to have my side of the story in case you discover anything that links him to me.” Her pretty face looked drawn. Sharing such a dark secret had taken its toll upon her.

“How did you pay Jareth?”

“In coin, for I could not risk anyone connecting us.” She got to her feet, and I did the same. “Jillian, I do not know if the two deaths are even connected. Yet, like you, my instinct tells me different.” She held out a gloved hand and took mine. “Remember, I have put my trust in you and hope you will keep my confidence.”

“Of course, Louisa,” I said gravely. Though in my heart, I wondered what she expected me to do with her information.

I closed the front door behind Lady Mountjoy and contemplated all she had said. Though I was more than a little surprised at her affair with Flynn, it was hardly implausible. I could well imagine a beautiful young bride brought to Mountjoy House and ultimately meeting the handsome blacksmith. They were both young, attractive, and she, bored with life far away from London. But in a small hamlet such as Ambleside, it must have been challenging to keep their love affair secret.

Then a thought occurred as I remembered the scraps of paper Billy had hidden in his box. Had they come from a letter of blackmail as we suspected? More importantly, could they have been written by Jareth?

IT WAS ALL I COULD DO NOT TO run to Wolfe Farm. I needed to speak to Dominic and share my suspicions. This would be difficult without betraying Louisa Mountjoy’s secret, but I intended to try anyway.

I arrived at the farm, and after knocking several times at the front door, I realised Dominic was not at home. I searched the barn and cowshed. He was likely gone to see his brother again. Yet he had mentioned talking to Victor. Perhaps he was at Hollyfield House?

I made up my mind and left the farm and headed towards the LaVelles. If I passed anyone along the way, I did not notice, so intent was I on my mission. But as I neared the turn-off for the lane, I changed direction and instead walked toward the boathouse and not the house itself. I do not know what compelled me, but I allowed my feet to take me there.

The boathouse looked far more welcoming than it had been yesterday during the terrible rainstorm. Had it only been a day earlier I had been here with Dominic? It was difficult to come to terms with the fact Marabelle Pike had still been alive then. I chased the thought from my head. The time to mourn would come later. There was much to be done first.

As I neared the building, I caught the murmur of voices and I stopped in my tracks. Where were they coming from? Quietly I stepped closer to the boathouse and leaned back against the brickwork. I closed my eyes to focus. There it was again—the hum of conversation. A wooded area divided the main house from the boathouse. I deduced whoever was speaking had to be somewhere in there.

Slowly I inched my way towards the sound of conversation, glad the sodden ground muffled my footsteps. I moved with the stealth of a cat, reluctant to have my presence known. As I drew closer, the voices grew clearer. Then all at once, I could make out two figures ahead of me. I stopped and aligned myself with the thick bark of an oak tree to hide. I peered around and looked again.

Evergreen and Marik were in the midst of a heated discussion. I strained to listen.

“Dear God, it is tragic. And I feel all the more wretched because there is also a feeling of relief,” Marik said solemnly.

“Don’t be so weak, Marik. Though we wish she had not had the accident, do not feel guilty that her passing eases the situation. We just have to hope she kept quiet as promised,” Evergreen spoke