Aeronaut Gone Page 12

  “I’ll never forgive myself, if we don’t, my dear. I have no desire to take this burden into the next life. Why don’t we save my good for nothing grandson and the wife he’s pushed to madness? You will help me, won’t you?”

  “And you’re sure you want to be involved?” Hettie asked. “We can do this for you.”

  “Oh my dears,” Grandfather Longmont said gently. “You give me hope for this world after I leave it. These fools are more my responsibility than yours, so yes. I am sure I want to be involved.”

  “All right then,” Ro told him. She nodded at Hettie, and they went to gather Betsy. She’d been standing near the side of the ship, gazing below. They had lifted off once again and were heading towards the correct river and the waterfalls they originally intended to see.

  “Lovely day,” Hettie said, “stretch your legs with us a bit? I find that walking in the jungle leaves me quite tense and I should like to loosen up.”

  “Lovely?” Betsy shrugged as they slowly moved out of the line of sight of Grandfather Longmont and Captain Herzfeld. “I suppose so. I should like to go back to the hotel, have a bath and a real meal. I imagine you feel much the same.”

  Before either of them could answer, Grandfather Longmont, who was not facing them, called, “Douglas. Come sit next to me.”

  Douglas left his spot near the rum bottle and crossed to his grandfather, dropping down. The fool hadn’t even looked around, and now he wasn’t facing them at all.

  “I need to speak with you, boy. Your brother as well, though his turn is next. You are my legacy—such as it is—” Grandfather Longmont’s tone conveyed deep disappointment, “and we all know I don’t have much time left.”

  “He should have taken Douglas in hand long ago.” Betsy murmured low, so they wouldn’t be overhead. She took the chance to eavesdrop as readily as the others. “You see what he’s like. He doesn’t care about anything. Least of all his dying grandfather.”

  “Have you made a change to our inheritance?” Douglas asked with irritation and maybe a bit of panic in his voice.

  “I might at that, you ungrateful codfish, but that’s not what I’m discussing with you right now. I want to talk to you about what it means to be a man. Give you some words of wisdom before I’m gone. An honorable man, the type of man I insist my grandsons become, does not carry debts. You must pay your debts in full, Douglas, and you must do it before I die or I will lock you out of your inheritance. Don’t think that I won’t. We all know you’re less than satisfactory and Will is man enough to outshine both you and Frederick.”

  Douglas was immediately defensive. “I don’t have any debts. You must have finally lost your marbles, Grandfather.”

  “Don’t even attempt to dodge the facts, Douglas. Pay your debts. That is all we’ll say on that matter. Don’t deny or obfuscate—it only makes you look worse. Furthermore, you must cease your philandering ways.”

  Betsy snorted meanly, but she said nothing. Her faith in her husband was probably all he deserved.

  “Frederick has problems enough, without you disgracing yourself, your sweet wife, and Frederick’s marriage as well.”

  Ro watched Betsy’s face very carefully. Would she take the bait? Would they be able to get a reaction from her?

  Betsy’s eyes narrowed and her grip on the rail tightened. This was it.

  “Philandering ways?” Douglas tried to play dumb. No one believed it, least of all his wife.

  “Don’t bother, Douglas. If you are man enough to parade around with your brother’s wife behind his back and dishonor your own wife in the process, you must be man enough to own your actions.”

  “Every man has dalliances on the side, Grandfather. It’s practically in our blood. Why do you care so much?”

  “I care because your lack of discretion and your lack of honor is turning my family—my legacy—and my last days into a circus. Have you no shame, Douglas? Your brother’s wife of all people. Have you thought about what this must be like for your sweet Betsy?”

  Ro watched Betsy hold her breath at the mention of her name.

  “My wife is a spoiled wretch of a woman. She’s afraid of her own shadow and cares only for the niceties in life. She doesn’t love me and even if she did, it wouldn’t matter because I love Daisy. It’s not just some torrid, meaningless affair. I love her. Marrying Betsy was a mistake, to be sure.”

  Betsy let out a growl that sounded like it belonged in the jungle, but she didn’t move.

  “She has been trying to kill you, you know,” Grandfather Longmont said. “I wonder when she’ll succeed.”

  Douglas scoffed. “Betsy? That vapid cow? I hardly think so.”

  Betsy slowly clutched her throat, her gaze fixed on her husband. She seemed entirely unaware of her audience.

  “I planned the murder of my husband many times,” Hettie said low. “Not sure I blame you for wanting to get rid of that wretch.”

  Betsy shook her head, but Douglas’s mocking laughter seemed to reach right into her soul and drive her to madness. She reached for the dagger that Ro had holstered to her thigh and raced across the deck, throwing herself at Douglas in the process.

  “Vapid! To be sure I am! For marrying you!”

  Ro didn’t think she’d ever heard such a visceral cry of pain and hatred and grief in one moment as she’d heard in Betsy’s reaction to the knowledge of just how little Douglas cared for her.

  In a flash, Truman jumped from his hiding place and tackled Douglas, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to completely prevent Betsy from stabbing Douglas. She gasped as she saw Ro’s dagger in her hand, still embedded in her husband’s shoulder.

  “Betsy?” Douglas stared at his wife, perhaps stunned speechless for the first time in his life.

  Betsy, however, stared back with loathing and twisted the blade.

  Ro grabbed Betsy’s arm and Hettie grabbed Betsy’s hair, and they hauled her off her howling husband as his wife dragged the dagger with her.

  Hettie kicked it out of Betsy’s hand and Ro kicked it across the deck while they pulled Betsy farther away.

  “We thought he’d push you over the edge,” Hettie said, “but I hoped he wouldn’t.”

  “I told him I wanted a divorce,” Betsy snarled. “He said no. He should have just let me go. I told him I couldn’t stand another day of him and that he’d drive me straight into madness, and he laughed.”

  “He shouldn’t have laughed,” Ro told Betsy kindly, helping her to her feet. “He should have let you go.”

  “It’s his fault,” Betsy told them. “It’s his fault! He broke all his promises and then he wouldn’t let me go. He should have just let me go.”

  Neither Hettie nor Ro agreed with Betsy aloud, but their gazes met, and they both knew the other agreed.

  The others on the ship had all reached the deck. Peter Longmont stared at his bleeding son, crying as he held his shoulder and then glanced at the laughing Frederick. Daisy dropped to her knees next to her lover, and slowly Frederick’s laughter stopped as his wife wept over his twin. A dawning understanding crossed his face, and he shouted, “Him? This is your lover? I’ll wring your neck!”

  “That is quite enough of that,” Grandfather Longmont snapped. “Everyone here knows about Cheri Harris.”

  “But—” Frederick gasped, looking about for support. He found none.

  “Father,” Peter Longmont sighed. “I—”

  “Changes will be made,” Grandfather Longmont told the group. “Will, please help me to the side of the ship. We’ll be heading back now, and I should like to see the jungle for as long as possible.”

  Will rushed to his grandfather’s side, and the old man seemed weak as they crossed the deck with Jade trailing after, carrying the chair.

  Truman took Betsy’s arm and sighed. “Into a cabin with you, I’m afraid. Girls,” his gaze was directed to Hettie and Ro, “you’ll have to take Daisy on.”

  Hettie shook her head and Ro echoed it.

  “They can’t
be together,” Truman said.

  “Lock them in different cabins,” Ro suggested as Hettie finished, “We’ll sleep on deck. Better a night under the stars with the jungle below than in a cabin with that woman.”

  Chapter 18

  “What a trip,” Ro sighed, glancing at the others. “This was supposed to be so magical.”

  “Parts of it were magical,” Truman told her. “I’ll never forget that waterfall even if we only saw it from above.”

  “Or the color of the birds, the way the jungle teems with life,” Neville added. “It was life affirming in a way I would never have expected.”

  “The sloths were all that I wanted,” Hettie told Ro. “The crocodiles leave something to be desired unless I was looking for nightmare fodder, but the sloths. The monkeys. All of those colorful birds. They were magical.”

  Ro’s nose scrunched and then she nodded. “Let alone sailing over it in that airship. We should absolutely do that again, somewhere less horrifying.”

  They’d been back to the hotel long enough to have a solid scrub in a cool bath, followed by draining the water and having a second solid scrub and then a long soak in the cool, soapy water. Hettie and Ro had discussed their bathing plans on the way to the hotel and met up after, smelling once again of roses and lavender.

  The boys had returned with them, but separated early as Truman had to take Betsy to the local authorities. Neville had seen them back to the hotel along with Herzfeld who was situated with a locally hired caregiver.

  In the time while Hettie and Ro bathed multiple times, ordered a cocktail to their room, and indulged in a pastry…or three, the gents had returned clean shaven, pressed, and freshened. They’d reached the restaurant and ordered an excessive spread of food. Hettie had to admit that despite indulging in pastries, she wanted nothing more than hot-cooked food made with spices and care.

  “God bless us everyone,” Ro said, reaching for a rum cocktail and breathing the food in deeply. “Anything at all. Anything that wasn’t cooked over a fire, dried before we left, or that includes grains.”

  Truman snorted, then handed Ro one of the plates the boys ordered and she sighed into it. Hettie took the juice that Nevi had ordered for her and sighed into it. “This is so fresh.”

  “The jungle and the heat do have some benefits,” Nevi said smiling as Hettie savored the juice. “The fruit here is amazing.”

  Hettie scrunched her nose. “That might be true, but it’s Paris for me. I may well move into a Turkish bath until I feel certain the stink of the jungle is off me.”

  “It’s off of you already,” Neville told her.

  “Speaking of the jungle--” Ro glanced at Truman before her attention returned to her plate. “What will happen to Betsy Longmont?”

  Truman shook his head and admitted, “I have no idea. Peter Longmont is ready to wash his hands of her, but she asked me to wire her father, and I did.”

  “Do you think she shouldn’t hang?” Neville asked Truman who hesitated for a long moment.

  “I suppose I feel for her,” Truman admitted. “Douglas Longmont is a terrible husband and he treated her poorly. There is very little to recommend him to her, to me, or to mankind. She also didn’t succeed in killing him.”

  Ro snorted and added, “She just tried very, very hard.”

  “Over and over again,” Hettie added. “When you suspected us of trying to kill our husbands—”

  Truman winced but Hettie and Ro waved him off.

  “—it seemed so obvious to us that we had other options. Why kill them when we could leave them? The law has changed since then. Divorce was a possibility for Betsy.”

  Neville’s kind eyes turned down as he considered and then said, “The problem is that she didn’t divorce him.”

  “That’s a hard road to take,” Hettie told him. “It can well ruin your life.”

  “So does attempted murder,” Truman replied, sounding just as exhausted. “She didn’t succeed in killing him. If her father comes and he’s wealthy, he may well do what can be done to help her, but I can’t imagine the rest of her life will be a smooth one.”

  “It hasn’t been a smooth one, I would wager, since she was stupid enough to marry that cad, Douglas. It was the same for me with Leonard,” Ro shuddered. “Or Hettie with Harvey. Have you ever read Middlemarch by George Eliot?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “It’s essentially a treatise, in novel form, on why it is so important to marry well and the damage an inattentive or uncaring family can do to a young naive woman’s marriage choice. I could throw the responsibility for my poor choice on my parents as they certainly pressured me.”

  “I, on the other hand,” Hettie said, shaking her head, “am far too responsible for Harvey.”

  “But,” Ro said, leaping to Hettie’s defense, “if you had met who her family intended for her—it wasn’t as though they were taking better care of her.”

  “I wonder what Betsy or Daisy’s family said about those Longmont twins.”

  “Or Jade,” Hettie added. “She married well to Will. I wonder if her family pointed out his good attributes, his kind nature, and told her she was wiser than her years?”

  “And now,” Neville asked, “after you’ve learned these lessons, will you refuse to ever again ally yourself with another?”

  Hettie started to tell him no, but instead she said, “The day I met you, there was a picture of a woman in your office.”

  Neville paused and then he said, “It isn’t there any longer.”

  “Who was it?” Ro demanded. Her gaze was accusatory since Hettie had been letting that picture weigh on her mind and had said nothing.

  “I was going to marry her once,” Neville told them. “She married my best friend instead.”

  Ro gasped, but Hettie’s head tilted, her eyes full of nameless feelings. She was bearing all of those feelings herself, but they were too riotous to read.

  “It was devastating at the time. But of course, he was a far better catch than me. Richer, handsomer, more sporting. He had it all.”

  “Was he kinder?” Hettie demanded. “The reason Will is such a good catch is because he’s so kind.”

  “How can he answer that?” Truman laughed. “And what does it matter, really? Kinder or not. She chose differently.”

  “What about you?” Ro asked him. “Have you married before or been close?”

  “I was close once,” Truman said. “She wasn’t what I thought. It doesn’t just apply to women, you know. The need to choose wisely in finding a spouse. For a good man, the wrong woman can also be torturous.”

  “So should we just give up?” Hettie asked him. “Perhaps we should.”

  “No,” Neville said instantly and Hettie’s gaze jerked to him.

  “Perhaps, instead,” Truman cut in, “we should just accept that three crimes faced together have revealed our poor decisions. Hettie is too inclined to kindly invite others, Ro drinks too much, I am too quick to judge and perhaps too harsh. Neville, alternatively, is too kind. Who knew that would be such a detriment?”

  “So,” Ro asked, as she reached out to Hettie. “What are you saying?”

  Ro’s hand was shaking in Hettie’s.

  “I’m saying that Neville and Hettie are too nice to survive without us.”

  Neville snorted.

  “They need us,” Ro agreed. “Otherwise, Hettie will ever be inviting criminals into her trips.”

  “Indeed,” Truman agreed.

  “Alternatively,” Neville said, “these two need a bit of humanity.”

  Hettie laughed, clutching at Ro.

  “I think what they’re trying to say,” Ro told Hettie, “is that they want to join our family. Since you and I are already forever friends.”

  Hettie started to answer and found her throat clutching closed. Her eyes were wide and surprised when Neville dropped to his knees and took Hettie’s hand, leaving her still clutching Ro. “Hettie, I know I’m neither dashing nor charming, but
I wonder if you might accept me anyway as I love you without reservation and to distraction.”

  He slowly pulled out a simple gold ring. Hettie glanced at Ro, who had teared up alongside her friend.

  “It’s real,” Ro told Hettie.

  Hettie’s lower lip trembled as she turned back to Nevi. Her heart was thumping and her nerves were dancing, but in the deepest part of her heart, she was without reservation. She nodded and he pushed to his feet, pulling her up to hug her tightly.

  When they finally parted and returned to their seats, Truman glanced at Ro and said, “I suppose asking to say ditto to what Nev said but in reference to you is insufficient.”

  “You’re darned right,” Ro said, gaze narrowed upon his face. “I demand supplication.”

  “And adoration,” Hettie said quickly.

  “And heartfelt compliments.”

  “You,” Truman told Ro, grabbing her by the wrist and hauling her against his body, “are a meddling, sharp-tongued, defensive, difficult to get close to, abrasive wench.”

  Truman put his thumb under Ro’s chin as she gaped at him. “Who I adore. I demand you put me out of my misery and allow me to protect you from your endless poor choices for the rest of our no doubt fraught lives.”

  Hettie giggled into her hand and then snuggled into Nevi’s side as Truman kissed Ro senseless.

  “You’ll never cheat on me,” Ro demanded.

  “Never,” Truman swore.

  “Hettie is my family,” Ro said after another round of firm kisses.

  “And mine,” Truman told Ro.

  Ro’s eyes teared at that.

  “You aren’t after my money?”

  “Tie it up and keep it from me,” he told her. “I only want your love.”

  “Well I suppose I better let you have it then,” Ro told him and this time his kiss was soft and gentle.

  “I suppose this is it,” Hettie told Nevi.

  “What?” he asked softly as Ro curled into Truman and whispered low to him.

  “The start of our happily ever after.”

  Neville lifted her hand and kissed the back of it before he said, “That it is.”