“We shall have time, my dear. If I have anything to do with it, there shall be no further secrets between us. There is much more you need to know.” He glanced at Sebastian to include him in that statement. “But for now, I think we could do with a brief respite. With your permission, I will go to my room now and get settled. I do believe you may have a death mask for me to look at.” With that, he quietly left the room.
“I apologise for crying all over you,” Amelia said, carefully moving away from Sebastian’s distracting embrace.
“I’m getting used to it,” Sebastian teased somewhat ruefully, as he eyed the damp patch on his jacket. “Talk to me, Amelia.”
“There is a lot to think about,” Amelia replied with a frown. “There is a lot I hadn’t considered, and need to understand.”
“You are not angry with me?” Sebastian didn’t like the sudden distance he could feel between them. As he had feared, she was mentally and emotionally withdrawing from him.
“No,” Amelia replied softly, with a gentle shake of her head. “I should be, but right now I am not sure what to think about my parents’ marriage, and everything. It was all a sham. I don’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t you just take a day at a time and let things happen. Spend a bit more time with your father. I am sure there is much more he has to tell you. There are three years of lost time to make up.”
Sensing her lingering disquiet, he changed the subject. “Peter has just returned with news from Derby Gaol. Not only about the death mask, but also about Jemima.”
Sebastian settled back in the seat with a sigh. He was tired from days of riding, but relished just sitting and chatting amiably with her. He wanted to ask if Sir Hubert had left her a reference, but given her raw grief at the mere mention of his name, decided to wait for now.
“Jemima?” Amelia’s curiosity was piqued.
“I don’t believe you know about Jemima,” Sebastian replied ruefully. “That’s Peter’s scandal,” he added, with a full blown smile that made Amelia’s knees tremble.
“More scandals?” she murmured weakly, with a shake of her head.
“Come on, let’s join the others. We will see if we can combine what we have all learnt about Ballantyne and Hawksworth.” He held out his hand, pleased when she hesitantly took it and allowed him to guide her to the library.
Amelia wondered just what the future held in store for all of them. More importantly, if they were all strong enough to deal with the changes that appeared to be upon them.
CHAPTER TEN
Following dinner, everyone once again eschewed etiquette and gathered in the library to discuss their individual findings.
As she entered, Amelia eyed the strange object sitting on a small table in the centre of the room, loosely wrapped in a piece of cloth.
“Is that it?” she asked Sebastian warily. The small hairs on the back of her neck rose just looking at the shrouded object, and she instinctively shifted closer to his reassuring bulk.
Sebastian nodded. “That’s the death mask. You don’t have to stay while your father takes a look at it, if you don’t want to. We will call you back when it is covered up.” He eyed her pale cheeks with concern. There were dark smudges under her eyes that hadn’t been there before, and despite her healthy appetite at dinner, she looked exhausted.
Amelia shook her head and squared her shoulders. “No. I want to see it too. I want to see if it resembles the Penny Dreadful.”
“If you are absolutely sure. I have to admit, I would feel better if you don’t look at it.” Sebastian looked across at Isobel. “If neither of you looked at it.”
“Oh rubbish, Sebastian. It is a mask of a dead man, that’s all. There is nothing threatening about it. We need to know if it is Hawksworth. The only way we will find out for certain is to take a look.” With a quick nod of her head, she motioned for Peter to remove the cloth.
Despite her bravado, Amelia gasped. The face that stared back at them was unnerving to say the least. The detailing on the mask was eerie. Cast entirely in bronze, it looked almost peaceful, and so lifelike, Amelia wouldn’t have been surprised if its eyes had opened. She leant forward to study the eyelashes and thick ridge of hairs of the eyebrows with rapt horror.
“It is Hawksworth,” Eastleigh muttered, moving to stand beside his daughter and study the face closely.
“Are you sure?” Sebastian walked slowly around the object, studying it carefully.
“I’m positive. He had a cut above his brow. See here?” Eastleigh’s finger traced the haphazard line of a cut above the right eye. It was so small; it was almost imperceptible unless it was pointed out.
“He got this on a hunting trip when he rode straight into a branch. The stupid man was out hunting full to the gills with brandy. He could barely sit atop his horse, much less stay on.” Eastleigh’s voice was laden with disgust. “He was a raging alcoholic from his teenage years, and got worse as he got older. Thankfully, I only did business with him a few times, and was glad when our agreement came to a conclusion.”
“What agreement did you have?” Amelia asked, thinking about the times she had seen the man in the hallway of Eastleigh House.
“I purchased some paintings and furniture off him when he found himself strapped for cash. Each time he wanted to get rid of something, he visited his father’s old acquaintances and struck a deal. He delivered the items personally, and took away the cash. I have no doubt he drank the proceeds before he got home.” He shot a rueful look at his daughter. “I hoped he took it home to pay some of his debts, and tried to persuade him to break away from his acquaintances. Despite knowing that the furnishings would eventually run out, and he would have to account for his debts, he seemed unable to help himself. He always seemed contrite and convincing. Always agreeing with whatever was suggested, but never following it through. If it wasn’t for my old friendship with his late father, I would have no compunction against throwing his worthless hide out on his ear.”
Amelia stared at the bust. “What connection did he have with Ballantyne? Do you know?”