Shattered Dreams Read online

  Throughout his time with the Star Elite, Harry had become a fairly good judge of character. To him, it was plain that this delightful woman before him, who had so unwittingly turned his life on its head, had absolutely nothing to do with what the Dandridges’ were up to.

  If it wasn’t bad enough that they were trying to steal money from him, they had already stolen various ornaments from around the house. Now, for some reason only known to them, they had also stolen the use of his seal, and written a fraudulent note to Tilly to offer her a job that didn’t exist.

  Harry took one look at the panic she tried, and failed to hide, and promised himself that when, not if, he found the proof of the Dandridges’ crimes, they would feel the long arm of the law, and experience their dreams being shattered too.

  His heart went out to the young woman before him and, although logic warned him to keep his distance, he simply wasn’t callous enough to turn a blind eye to her predicament.

  “Can you tell me how you got to hear about the job? I mean, who gave you the actual address?” He knelt on the floor before her, and looked at the tears that hovered on her lashes. Thankfully, she hadn’t succumbed to a fit of the vapours yet, and for that he was extremely grateful. The last thing he wanted as a hysterical female on his hands, so he tried to keep his gaze as reassuring as possible while he waited for her to reply.

  “One day, about a week before Lady Attingham passed away, one of her friends arrived, a Mrs Bolsworthy. I was showing her out because the butler was busy with Lady Attingham. Mrs Bolsworthy told me that she didn’t think Lady Attingham had long to go because her health was so poor. She, Mrs Bolsworthy, said that if I found myself out of a job, I should consider taking the job here. She handed me a note with your name and address on before she left.”

  “So when Lady Attingham passed away a few days later, you did exactly as Mrs Bolsworthy suggested and wrote to me.”

  Tilly nodded. “In my letter, I explained what I had been doing at Attingham House, and said that Mrs Bolsworthy had instructed me to write.” She pointed to the parchment still on Harry’s desk. “I received that about ten days later.”

  Harry shook his head. So the Dandridges’ had been helping themselves to his mail as well? He set that matter to one side for now, and forced his attention back to the current problem - Tilly.

  “What was wrong with Lady Attingham, do you know?”

  Tilly shook her head. “One minute she was fine. The next thing we know, she took poorly. She faded really quickly.”

  Harry frowned at that.

  “Had you known this Mrs Bolsworthy long?”

  “I didn’t know her at all,” Tilly replied. “She was Lady Attingham’s friend.”

  “I am sorry,” Harry sighed. “I meant; had you seen this Mrs Bolsworthy at the house much, prior to Lady Attingham taking ill?”

  Tilly shook her head. “No. She certainly wasn’t a regular visitor at Attingham House in the years that I grew up there.”

  “How many times did she visit Lady Attingham before she passed away?”

  “Oh, about three or four times over the period of about six months. Why?” Tilly frowned at the rather thoughtful look on his face.

  Harry didn’t answer her for a moment, and studied the rug beneath his feet while he contemplated how much to tell her.

  “Did Lady Attingham ever seem worried, or distressed after Mrs Bolsworthy’s visits?”

  Tilly thought about that for a moment.

  “Not really, although I didn’t serve her, Harrold did.” She noted the blank look on his face, and explained. “Harrold was Lady Attingham’s personal butler. He never mentioned to me that Lady Attingham was distressed in any way.”

  He picked the parchment up off his desk and studied it. “When you received this, you hopped onto the next post chaise as instructed, and came straight here.”

  “I had no choice. If I don’t have a job, I have no home. It’s as simple as that. Lady Attingham’s solicitor instructed us all that we had to find alternative employment.” She sighed and looked at the floor sadly. “I used all of my savings, and the last of my wages, to get here.”

  Harry watched a shiver sweep through her, but suspected that it had nothing to do with a chill. He studied her closely, and knew from the look of pure honesty in her eyes that what she had just told him was the truth. He mentally cursed whichever Dandridge was involved, and tried to decide what to do now.

  “I am sorry. It is just a shock.” She lifted her worried gaze to his. “Who would do such a thing? Why? I have come all the way from Lincolnshire for the job. It’s cruel.”

  Harry had to agree, and wished he could give her some answers.

  He could see no reason to mention the fact that it was the Dandridges’ who had brought her here, because then she would start to ask him questions he couldn’t answer. To him, it was obvious that the Dandridges’ were responsible because they were the only ones who had access to the house, his mail, and the seal in his desk drawer.

  “I am just sorry it has happened to you,” he replied quietly.

  Especially someone so young and beautiful, he thought. He studied the fine sweep of her brows over eyes that seemed to draw him in. The world-weary sadness he saw hidden in those beautiful moss green orbs made him wonder just how harsh her life had been.

  “Do you not have family in -” he squinted at her as he tried to remember, “- Lincolnshire?”

  Tilly shook her head. “The only relative I had was my mother. She has passed away.”

  “So you are all alone,” he murmured thoughtfully. He didn’t mean to emphasize just how desperate her situation was, and cursed his stupidity when she physically winced at the harshness of his words.

  He suddenly wished that he had kept his mouth shut, but rather suspected that if she had no family to turn to in her hour of need, then she most probably didn’t have the funds necessary to get another post chaise somewhere else. He struggled to know how best to help her. She probably wouldn’t be inclined to accept charity. Nor was he in a position to offer her a place to stay until she found work somewhere else because he couldn’t risk her presence in his house damaging his investigation. The last thing he needed was to tip the Dandridges’ off that he was on to them. He studied her thoughtfully.

  Tilly felt a cold hand of something undefinable sweep down her back and, for the first time in her entire life, she felt vulnerable, alone, and very, very, frightened.

  In spite of her dilemma, she was painfully aware that this man, in spite of his kindness toward her, was as much of a victim of this cruel prank as she was. He had been minding his own business, only to be visited by a complete stranger who expected him to give her a job. Aware that he was studying her, she straightened her shoulders, and looked at him a little defiantly while she tried to quash the small voice that silently screamed at her to ask him for help.

  “I am fine,” she declared firmly, not entirely sure whether she was trying to reassure herself, or him. She glanced around the room and wondered if she could get out of there before she started to cry.

  “Look, I know it is none of my business, but I wonder what you plan to do now. I can assure you that I didn’t write the letter you received. However, because it has been sent in my name, I cannot help but feel responsible.” He pierced her with a warning look that made her shiver anew. “I promise you here and now, Tilly that I will find out who sent you this letter, and they will be suitably dealt with.”

  Tilly swallowed and nodded. The sound of her name spoken in those husky tones was strangely intimate. However, the ruthless menace hidden in his words made her suddenly very glad that she wasn’t going to be around to see how the culprit was ‘suitably dealt with’. She didn’t want to know what he planned to do, but had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t the kind of man one crossed and forgot.

  “I am sorry, I must go. I have already taken up enough of your time as it is,” Tilly sighed. She suddenly became embarrassingly aware that she had overstayed h
er welcome.

  “What do you plan to do?” he persisted.

  She smiled obliquely at him. “I will be fine,” she whispered. Right now, she hadn’t got a clue what to do, but wasn’t going to admit that to him.

  She looked around for somewhere to leave the brandy, and eventually put it onto the corner of his desk for the butler to deal with. She had only taken a sip, but that was enough to make her already empty stomach more than a little unsettled.

  “Before you go,” Harry sighed. He quickly removed several coins from the secret pouch he carried, and followed her to the study door. “I need to ask you for some information about what Mrs Bolsworthy looks like.”

  Tilly turned toward him with a frown. “She is about middle aged, with curly dark brown hair, and is rather rotund.”

  “Can you remember her eye colour?”

  “Grey, I think.”

  “What about her height. How tall was she?” When Tilly looked a little nonplussed, Harry waved to his own tall frame. “Look at me. Think about her standing in front of you. How tall was she?”

  Tilly studied him thoughtfully. “About as high as your shoulder, I suppose. Certainly no taller,” she mused. It was difficult to ignore the flurry of awareness that swept through her as she considered just how tall he was against her own smaller frame.

  “One last thing,” Harry asked as he watched her clutch her bag tighter and make her way to the door. He was aware that he was deliberately trying to prevent her from leaving while his mind raced to find a way to help her, but it was evident with each minute that passed that he was going to have to let her go.

  She stopped in the hallway and looked at him.

  “Did she give you her direction, the last time you saw her?” He mentally sighed when she shook her head.

  It was a struggle not to gather her into his arms for a hug. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t really reassure her about anything because he had no idea what was going on himself.

  “Thank you for the brandy,” she murmured quietly when he didn’t seem inclined to ask her anything else.

  She moved out into the hallway, painfully aware that he followed her. “Please forgive my intrusion. I just had no reason to believe that someone would do such a thing.”

  “I am sorry that they have,” Harry replied quietly. “I can assure you that I shall be having words with my housekeeper about who has had access to my desk. Meantime, I hope you find a suitable position elsewhere.”

  She smiled at him and turned toward the servants’ door.

  “This way,” Harry murmured gently, and waved toward the front door. She wasn’t a servant in his house so he would be damned if she would use the servants’ doors.

  He glanced at the door to the servants’ quarters, unsurprised to see it swing silently closed. Clearly, Dandridge had heard what he had wanted to hear, and had returned to the kitchen to tell his wife what he had learned.

  Harry opened the door and sighed at the steady downpour that awaited her. He wanted to ask her to stay for a while; at least until the worst of the weather passed, and actually opened his mouth to speak, only for her to give him a brave smile, and march outside before he could say a word.

  Bitter frustration surged through him at his lack of ability to offer assistance to her. He longed to be able to go into the kitchen and dismiss the wastrels who were undoubtedly sitting on their idle backsides around his kitchen table, but he couldn’t.

  If only circumstances had been kinder to them both, he thought with a frown as he watched her walk down the steps and hurry down his driveway.

  He sighed with relief when he spied his good friend, Barnaby pull his curricle to a stop at the end of the drive. Harry stared at him for a moment before he turned to look at Tilly, who was already nearly out of the driveway.

  “Wait!” Harper called, and raced down the drive after her.

  He drew to a stop beside her, and handed her the coins he had taken out of his pouch. “These are to recompense you for the wasted post chaise ticket. Please use it to purchase a ticket to another town. I hope you find the employment you are looking for.” He saw her instinctive objection on her face as she studied the money. “Please take a word of advice, Tilly?”

  Tilly felt everything within her go still, and she nodded jerkily. Her eyes met and held his.

  He didn’t want to frighten her, but the memory of the way Dandridge had leered at her simply wouldn’t go away.

  “Please get the next post chaise out of the town. There are some strange things going on around here at the moment, and I don’t want you getting involved in them.” He placed the coins in her palm and folded her fingers around them carefully. Rather than release her hand though, he held on to it for several moments and looked deep into her eyes.

  “Look after yourself, Tilly,” he murmured huskily. He could see the questions in her beautiful green eyes, but he didn’t have the time to answer them right now.

  The situation in the Rectory wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with her out in the open where anyone might overhear. This was a Star Elite investigation. The less she knew, the safer she was. Before she could ask him something he would have to lie to answer, he gave her hand one last, reassuring squeeze, and tried to ignore the flurry of awareness that made his palms tingle as he turned away.

  It was such a wrench to leave her standing in the pouring rain that, for one brief moment, his footsteps actually faltered. It was only the arrival of Barnaby at his side that kept him moving toward the warmth of the house.

  Tilly stared after him; then looked down at the coins in her hand. She wanted to call him back and return the money, but the coins he had given her were all she had, besides the bag she carried.

  She watched the door close behind him, and suddenly felt hopelessly alone in the world. It was a terrifying thought that made her shudder in horror as tears loomed.

  When a particularly strong gust of wind swept up her back, she shivered and turned away from the Rectory, and its false promise of a new life.

  With her dreams shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, Tilly made her way back toward the hugely unwelcoming suburb of Tooting Mallow, and wondered what on earth she was going to do now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Thank God you are here,” Harry said fervently as he closed the front door.

  “Trouble?” Barnaby asked, and watched Harry throw his butler a look that was so dark; so menacing, that Dandridge immediately turned around and vanished from sight.

  “On my desk,” Harry sighed, and followed his friend into the study.

  Once there, he handed Barnaby the forged letter Tilly had received, and moved over to the window which overlooked the drive while his friend read it.

  To his consternation, there was no sign of her in the road. She had vanished so swiftly that she could have been a figment of his imagination, but he knew that she hadn’t been because the faint scent of lavender she had worn still hung in the air.

  He didn’t know which bothered him more, his inability to help her, or the horrible feeling that now hung over him that by allowing her to leave, he had just made the most colossal mistake of his entire adult life.

  “I am sorry, Barnaby,” Harry said suddenly. “I will be back in a minute.”

  He was only vaguely aware of the astonished look on his friend’s face as he raced out of the house, but didn’t bother to explain. Nothing mattered right now except correcting the wrong he had just done.

  He ran down the drive, and scoured the area as he went, but there was no sign of Miss Fenton, Tilly, anywhere. Where had she vanished to? How had she managed to disappear so quickly? He scoured the area, and studied the trees opposite the house, but couldn’t see any sign of her. He even went to the top of the hill and looked down the street that would take him down to the main road, but she wasn’t there either. Without racing like an idiot down the main street, and going in and out of each and every shop and tavern he came across, he had to accept that she had gone.
r />   “Damn it,” he growled with a shake of his head. Anger burned deep within as he turned around and hurried back to the Rectory to see what his friend thought of the letter.

  If he had stopped to take a closer look at the trees not far from the house, he would have seen Tilly at the base of one particularly thick oak tree, partially hidden by shadows.

  She leaned against the prickly bark, and lost the meagre contents of her stomach. She had only taken a tiny sip of the unfamiliar brandy, but even that was too much for her already exhausted body to cope with. When her retching finally eased, she was more tearful than ever, and lifted a trembling hand to wipe the faint sheen of sweat off her forehead.

  Ten minutes later, she finally stood up. While her stomach didn’t churn so much now, emotionally she was desperate. Now that she was alone, she couldn’t keep the tears at bay, and really had no reason to withhold them. There was nobody outside given that was raining heavily now, and it gave her a few precious moments to herself to try to quell her panic and think about what she should do now.

  Unlike an hour ago, this time Tilly had nowhere to go. She was all alone, with nothing to her name apart from the contents of a rather disreputable looking bag at her feet, and a few coins in her pocket.

  She had no job; no source of income; and no prospect of sanctuary any time soon.

  What was she to do now? She didn’t have the money to go back to Lincolnshire. Even if she could get there, she had no family; no kith; no kin; nobody whom she could turn to for help. She thought about purchasing a broadsheet to try to find another job, but then looked down at her dirt-stained dress and knew that it was futile. Even if she could get an interview; and she had no idea what they were; she would hardly be let into any reputable establishment while she looked as though she belonged in a stable.

  The coins in her hand were suddenly very valuable to her, and it was imperative that she spend them wisely. What should spend them on though? If she used any of her money to purchase a room for the night, the few coins she had wouldn’t last long. Then what?