Pleasures of the Night by Heather Boyd
Chapter 22
Eugenia accepted Thaddeus’ assistance to alight from the carriage late on the following afternoon. They’d halted at the bottom of a steep, narrow lane. She glanced around, noting the squalor of the neighborhood and the air of decay of all the narrow cottages. Beneath that she could smell the sea. She refused to look at it. “Are you sure your men found the right place?”
“I’m sure.” Thaddeus moved closer to her, his touch light on her back. “Did you believe Bagshaw was a wealthier man?”
She glanced around, seeing nothing that reminded her of anything Robbie might once have described to her. “No, but I assumed his family was from a better neighborhood than this.”
“It’s been years,” Thaddeus warned. “Perhaps they’ve fallen on hard times since?”
She nodded and tried not to worry even more about what she might find here.
Thaddeus tipped his hat to a local who had come out to stare at them from one of the houses. Their traveling carriage would draw even more attention the longer they remained.
Eugenia shivered and drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders.
“Take my arm,” Thaddeus asked. “Stay close to me.”
Eugenia nodded and slipped her arm through his. She was familiar with the dangers of traversing an area on foot where money was in short supply. While not rich herself, she might just be better off than anyone who lived here. Thaddeus’ grooms fanned out before them, and some fell behind. Those in front knocked on doors and asked if anyone knew a Mrs. Bagshaw, along with the exact location of her home.
The first people they spoke to claimed not to know her and shut the door in their faces. But she caught glimpses of children running up the steep hill, jumping fences as they ran ahead.
“She must be here,” she whispered. “Surely they can see we’re harmless.”
“We’re strangers, and my men all carry pistols for our protection, but they won’t use them unless we’re in any danger,” Thaddeus whispered. “Give them a chance to find the right house.”
Eugenia squeezed his arm a little tighter. With Thaddeus so determined to remain by her side, help her discover the truth, she would never stop.
A groom knocked on a faded blue door halfway along the row. The door opened a crack, and someone inside spoke to one of his grooms. And then the door opened wider, and a tiny old lady appeared on the stoop. She raised her hand to shield her old eyes as she peered at them down the street. And then her hand went to her throat.
Eugenia prayed it was her and rushed forward to meet the woman. “Mrs. Bagshaw, mother of Robert Bagshaw?”
The woman drew herself up as tall as her five feet, if that, would allow. “I am. What do you want with me?”
She had fretted about how to introduce herself. The old woman may not even have known about her existence. After so long, she couldn’t recall if Robert had written to his mother about her or had just planned to tell her after the marriage. She had decided to be honest from the beginning and hold nothing back. “I am Mrs. Robert Bagshaw. Eugenia. Formerly of Hastings.”
The old lady’s eyes widened. “It cannot be.”
She reached for her reticule and the only proof that she had to verify she’d known the woman’s son. “I have a letter your son gave me. If you would spare a moment of your time, I’d be very grateful if you would look at it.”
The old lady glanced around suddenly. The neighbors were all standing in front of their cottages, doing little to hide they were watching. “You’d best come inside. Not much happens around here that others don’t want to know about.”
Eugenia exchanged a hopeful glance with Thaddeus and followed the tiny woman into a sparsely furnished cottage. It was only as wide as one room on the ground floor and likely the same above. There was a threadbare rug upon the front room floor where Mrs. Bagshaw led them and only a few pieces of hardwood furniture to be seen. But the cottage was lovingly kept. Neat and clean. The old woman went to sit by the fire on the only upholstered chair in the room, leaving two stools for them to sit on.
Eugenia moved her stool closer to the woman. “How do you do, madam?”
“Very well,” she said, inclining her head toward her. But then her eyes flickered to Thaddeus.
“This is my…”
“Thaddeus Berringer,” he said, apparently deciding that disguising his name was not necessary anymore. “I represent the Duke of Exeter.”
“A duke,” the old woman exclaimed and then stared at Eugenia in surprise. “What do you want with me? I don’t have any money.”
“Please, I want to know everything you can tell me about my husband?”
The woman huffed. “There’s not much to tell.”
“And his family,” Thaddeus added. “Mrs. Bagshaw’s memory of the time she lived as Bagshaw’s wife is patchy at best. I hope her request is not too difficult.”
The old woman glared at him. “Do you think my memory of my son could be flawed?”
Eugenia studied the woman. From here, she could sense no malice, but defiance. Pride, too. They could dance around the subject for an hour, and Eugenia would likely come away with no more knowledge than she’d arrived with if she didn’t win the woman’s cooperation quickly. It might be easier all around to come straight to the point with this lady. If she was her husband’s mother, they were family.
“I met Robbie when I was three and twenty. It was just after my brother had died. He swept me off my feet, and he proposed the very next day. We were married a month later by banns, but he had to leave to return to you. He left very early the morning after we wed to travel by packet boat to Dover.”
“You said you’d show me a letter.”
“Yes, this is what I found he’d left on the hearth mantel after he was gone.” She passed the letter over, and the old woman squinted at the folded paper. She stood and moved to the front window, squinting still to read the faded words of her son, who would have died the very next day by drowning, if what Eugenia had been told was true.
And then a sob tore from the old lady’s throat. “He said he’d met a girl he wanted to marry and I could hardly believe it. But I always wondered what happened to you.”
The old woman suddenly rushed away into an adjoining chamber.
She and Thaddeus exchanged a long look. They could both hear the rummaging around in the other room very clearly. A moment later, Mrs. Bagshaw returned with a second yellowed paper clutched in her hand. The paper appeared the same size and shape as Eugenia’s letter from Robbie. As old, too, perhaps.
“He wrote to me before you must have married.”
Eugenia took the note she was given and read it where she sat, but turned toward the light as well. Thaddeus likely couldn’t see the words but was probably as eager to know what that letter contained as she was.
Eugenia cleared her throat and read it out loud.
My Dearest Mama,
It will no doubt surprise you to learn I intend to be married before I return home to you. I have met the most gracious and charming woman in Hastings that I find I cannot do without. Mama, I am sure you will grow to love her as I have, and at last, I will be able to make good on my promise to get you away from Dover for a quieter life where I can continue my profession in peace. My future wife has a home large enough for us all to live in, too. We might all be very comfortable and never bothered again. Make ready for your journey, dearest Mama. I shall come for you within a week of my marriage, and finally, you will be free of embarrassment.
Your loving son,
R. J. B.
“Robert James Bagshaw,” Eugenia whispered as she wiped away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. She had forgotten until now that Robbie even had a middle name, but seeing the initials written down brought the knowledge rushing back.
She could understand Robbie wanting to move his mother out of this part of town. But Robbie had not told her that Mrs. Bagshaw should have come to live with them.
If only she’d known, they might not be the strangers they were today, and both their lives might have been very different indeed.
She took one last look at the letter, then folded it and handed it back to her mama-in-law.
She looked across at the older woman, who was clutching her letter, and Eugenia’s, too, to her chest and did not ask for it back.
Thaddeus cleared his throat. “May I see both letters?”
Eugenia passed them over when Mrs. Bagshaw finally gave them up. Thaddeus spread both out upon his knees, comparing the handwriting in both. “Identical penmanship in every way,” he murmured.
“Of course they are. I’d recognize my son’s handwriting anywhere.”
“Would you recognize him, too, even now?”
“What sort of a question is that?”
Thaddeus nodded slowly. “Madam, would you be willing to make a journey to London?”
The old woman stared at Thaddeus, eyes wide. “What do you expect me to do in London?”
Thaddeus glanced Eugenia’s way, and she knew what he was about to say. “A man has recently come to London claiming to be Eugenia’s husband, your son Robert Bagshaw, but she was assured that he drowned before he could reach Dover.”
“My Robert did drown.” Mrs. Bagshaw swallowed. “I buried him.”
Eugenia rocked forward, nearly shedding tears in relief to hear those words spoken out loud. Robbie had not deserted her, and the man in London was an imposter.
“Not to be rude, but are you certain it was your son you buried?”
The old woman paled. “A mother knows her own flesh and blood when it is laid out for burial in her own parlor.”
Thaddeus turned to Eugenia. “Then who is it parading about London, I wonder? You say he looks just like Robbie.”
“Similar, but an imposter, obviously. Just as I said he was from the start.” She gulped through. “A very convincing imposter in possession of my late husband’s papers.”
Thaddeus turned back to Mrs. Bagshaw. “Did Robert have a cousin who favored him in appearance? Or a friend that could pass for him who might know intimate details of his courtship of Eugenia?”
The old woman’s eyes had narrowed, turning as hard as the sea. “His bastard half-brother could pass for him in poor light.”
“A half-brother?”
“My husband’s bastard comes around from time to time. Snooping and tormenting me with his face, so similar to my lost boy.”
“Snooping?”
“Found him here six months ago. Cursed him to hell and back as he scampered away like the gutter rat he’s always been. Hasn’t returned since, but he stole from me. I thought it was just another way to hurt me because I won’t have anything to do with the likes of him. If only Robbie had lived long enough for us to have met, I would have escaped him to live in Hastings with you and never had to deal with him again.”
“What is your husband’s son’s name?”
“Calls himself Regis Bagshaw,” Mrs. Bagshaw supplied with a grimace of distaste. “Not that he has the right to the surname.”
“What sort of man is Regis truly?”
“Useless, good for nothing but scraping muck from the hull of a stinking whaler and stealing into places he doesn’t belong. He is nothing like my son. My Robert was a good lad. Honest and kind. He never spoke harshly to anyone, except for that Regis.”
“So Regis came here and took…how many letters did your son write to you?”
“Plenty. My son was smart and wrote to his mother every week he was away on business.”
“And then so armed with your son’s letters from here, knowing his life history and Eugenia’s name, he must have decided to reinvent himself as Robert Bagshaw,” Thaddeus whispered, disgust evident in his tone.
“But how did he get the marriage license? Robbie had that and the captain never returned any of his possessions to me.” She looked at her mama-in-law. “Did you have our marriage license?”
“No. But Regis was following along from the dock when my son’s body was brought to me. He had…” the old woman scowled. “He was carrying Robbie’s trunk, but I never saw it again after that day.”
“So he stole everything he needed,” Eugenia sat back, appalled. “He might have even gone to Hastings. It’s where Robbie and I married, and from there discovered where I’d gone to from the vicar or even an old neighbor,” Eugenia mused.
“It’s a fair conclusion,” Thaddeus murmured. “Do you write to anyone in Hastings still?”
“Yes. A neighbor. I wrote and told them about Sylvia’s engagement to the Marquess of Wharton, but that was only last week.”
Thaddeus rubbed his jaw. “He could have acquired the Albemarle Street address from someone in Hastings, come to London and learned you’d recently moved, and possibly followed you or your cousins back to Lord Wharton’s abode.”
She shuddered.
“I ought to give that weasel a piece of my mind for meddling with my daughter-in-law,” the old lady complained suddenly.
“Could you come with us?” Eugenia spun to face the old woman. “Right now, Regis is making a nuisance of himself in London. We need to expose his lies and make it clear that I was never married to him.”
The old lady nodded. “I would be glad to.”
“We will see to your every comfort on the journey there and back,” Thaddeus promised.
The old lady looked at Thaddeus. “This Duke of Exeter must be very fond of my daughter-in-law?”
“His whole family is,” Thaddeus promised.
Eugenia put her hands over her belly. “If my memory of Robbie hadn’t weakened over time,” she said. “I would have remembered how often he wrote letters to you and come to you sooner. Regis claimed an injury of his hand had changed his penmanship when Lord Wharton made him write out his name for comparison to the license.”
“I should have come to you, just like my boy wanted,” Mrs. Bagshaw apologized. “But I couldn’t leave Dover with him so recently buried here.”
“I would have liked to have met you sooner.” Eugenia smiled and looked up at Thaddeus, who had stood. “What more can we need to prove he’s an imposter?”
“Well,” Thaddeus sat down again, facing Mrs. Bagshaw. “Aside from taking this dear lady to London, I’m sure we can clear up any doubt about his good character, given he could be in possession of stolen property of Wharton’s.”
The old lady grinned evilly. “He won’t be happy to see me. I’m responsible for him breaking his arm when I caught him trespassing just after burying Robbie. He fell out the upper window, clutching his ill-gotten gains in his grubby hands. Dropped half of it before the neighbors chased him off.”
“A career criminal. All the better.” Teddy smiled in delight. “A confrontation involving Mrs. Bagshaw senior should unsettle him enough to reveal the true man behind the disguise. Would you happen to know if anyone in these parts remembers him well?”
“The local magistrate will.”
“I wonder if he could be persuaded to travel to London to answer a summons from the Duke of Exeter. All expenses paid, of course.”
The old woman’s eyes were lit with excitement now. “I’ll hit him again if it helps, too.”
“Let’s hope violence is not called for, but between you and me, I’d enjoy planting him a facer myself after his charade,” Thaddeus confessed.
The old woman looked around suddenly. “What about my things?”
“I can leave a groom behind to watch over your possessions while you’re gone. I can assure you everything will be as it is now upon your return. I’d like to leave tomorrow at dawn if that suits you both.”
Mrs. Bagshaw nodded and then turned to Eugenia, her eyes pleading.
Eugenia glanced at Thaddeus. “Could we have a moment alone, sir?”
“Of course. I’ll wait outside. Take all the time that you need.”
As soon as Thaddeus was gone, the old woman smiled. “You’ve fallen in with important people since my Robbie died. I’m glad you had someone to look after you.”
But Mrs. Bagshaw had no one. She’d been left to the uncaring and grasping attentions of her husband’s bastard son. “My cousin, Sylvia, is to marry a marquess soon. My other cousin, Aurora and I, reside with them in a grand mansion in Mayfair.”
“And who is this formidable duke Mr. Berringer speaks of?”
“His cousin. A friend, and a fine man for all that he’s titled.”
“Married?”
“The duke? Yes, to his childhood sweetheart.”
“And what of this Mr. Berringer attending you? He seems quite invested in discovering the truth with you.”
Eugenia had never been asked that question before. He was her friend and lover, but she could not tell her mother-in-law that upon their first conversation. “He is a man who seeks to right a wrong being done to me. He offered his help, carriage, and men, to find you. I could not have done without him.”
“He’s a good man then, and has my thanks for uniting us at last. Robbie would be glad you have so many who care about you.”
Eugenia inched her chair closer to her mama-in-law. “I can’t tell you how very satisfying it is to meet you at last.”
“You must have thought the worst of my son after Regis’ pretense. Imagined he’d not died after all, and he’d used and deserted you.”
“Not for a moment,” Eugenia promised. “When I looked in Regis’ eyes, I saw a man I had never loved or ever could.”
“My Robert would be glad to hear it. He was too often mistaken for Regis as a lad.” The older woman’s eyes fixed on her.
“Perhaps that’s where Regis got the idea to become him,” Eugenia mused. And she’d stop him as soon as possible. She stood and reached for her mama-in-law’s hand.
Mrs. Bagshaw gripped her hand tight. “Did you have his child? My Robbie’s?”
Eugenia winced. “No. We were together one night and then he was gone. It wasn’t to be.”
“I’m so sorry to hear it,” Mrs. Bagshaw whispered, all the life draining from her. “There’s nothing sadder than a woman without her children.”
Eugenia swallowed a sudden lump that had formed in her throat. “Yes.”
She’d never had a chance for a family. Love did not come along every day, nor did children if a lady took precautions. She regretted that was how it had to be. It might be nice to sit by a fire and have children playing at her feet, and to have a husband who loved her no matter what sitting in a window looking on. Teddy.She nodded. “Well. Until tomorrow, Mrs. Bagshaw.”
“Until dawn, Mrs. Bagshaw.” The old lady stood and escorted Eugenia to the door and beyond.
Thaddeus, the man she loved, was waiting on the cobblestone street in the company of his men, who were waiting to escort them down the steep slope to the carriage.
A pair of his men introduced themselves to Mrs. Bagshaw and promised to return before dawn to take charge of her house in her absence.
Eugenia waved goodbye to her mama-in-law and started down, holding tightly to Thaddeus’ strong arm.
“I’m not married,” she whispered.
“You’re a widow, Mrs. Bagshaw,” Thaddeus whispered back.
She winced at the name she’d never really thought of as her own for so long, but there was no escaping it now. She would have to adjust to it, answering to the name for the first time in four years. The elder Mrs. Bagshaw would certainly use it when she came to London with them, and so would everyone else eventually, too. “At least now I am able to always go about without a chaperone.”
“What a lovely development for me,” Thaddeus murmured as he helped her into the carriage. He spoke to the driver and then joined her in the intimately darkened confines.