by Issy Brooke
Theodore scratched at his chin like an uncouth field-hand. He seemed deep in thought and Adelia had to speak three times before his attention was roused.
“What? No,” he said in answer to her question. “That will be all, at least for now. I must take these clothes and ... examine them.”
They began, by silent mutual assent, to walk back to the house. Adelia fell into step with the Dowager Countess while Lord Mondial attempted to engage Theodore in conversation. Theodore was oblivious to Lord Mondial’s overtures and Adelia could hear the Marquis’s annoyance growing in his voice. She decided not to catch up and interrupt them. It wasn’t far to the castle. There, Theodore wandered off in a thoughtful daze, apparently heading upstairs to their suite. Adelia smiled in wan apology to Lord Mondial, smiled in genuine warmth to her mother-in-law, and followed her husband up.
Theodore was already sitting at the small table in the window, scribbling his ideas feverishly onto a fresh sheet of paper. The burned clothing sat in a heap on the floor at his feet. He didn’t look up when he heard Adelia enter. She sat herself on a couch, and waited until he was ready to speak.
It didn’t take long. He began to tap the pencil repetitively on the paper and muttered, “But why did Mondial not see the attacker? How masked can a man be, and still hit his target? Adelia, my love, in your long and varied life, have you ever been in such a situation of intense dread that you were unable to see?”
“Theodore, darling, don’t suggest to a lady that her life has been long. It may be misconstrued. Likewise, varied can mean all manner of things. That aside, I am not sure.” She cast her mind back but apart from the pain of childbirth, which had certainly done strange things to her perceptions at those moments, she could not recall anything. “No. I have never felt in fear of my life though. And yourself?”
“I thought that I had. I’ve – well, not quite duelled, but I told you about my youthful arguments. Mostly drunken, mostly forgettable. I thought back then that I was quite the daredevil but I suspect that we all did, and it was in truth nothing more than posturing. We were playing at dancing with death, that was all. This is something different. Yet it does not add up. Taylor is hiding something.”
“The valet? He could have been possessed of a fit of madness. Does it not happen,” Adelia suggested, “when someone can have an attack of unreality so convincing that they act quite out of character, but at all other times they seem perfectly normal? Perhaps Taylor has been at the mercy of such an episode, and due to his long service, Lord Mondial feels charitably towards him and is protecting him.”
Theodore burst out laughing, which rather affronted Adelia. He said, “I can understand Mondial protecting Taylor for some reason. I have considered the same thing myself. But not on account of a fit of madness. If Taylor had been seized by insanity and – I don’t know, ripped up half of Mondial’s shirts in some fever – then perhaps. But he has killed. Killed a woman and injured his master. That is unforgiveable. Even your Mrs Hobson’s good bishop husband would struggle to forgive so completely and not seek recompense.”
Adelia nodded. “I agree. Yet he is protecting Taylor in some way, and for what purpose?”
“I don’t know but I shall find out. Can you talk to Dido and get her to press the servants? They seem to know things and now we know that some can be trusted. Start with that girl...”
“Betty Brody?”
“Is that her name? Well, whatever. Yes, her.” Theodore bent and stirred the clothing with his hand. “I will lay this out and perhaps we can see if we can find a matching pair of trousers. I will try to work out the size of man who wore it. Beyond that, I am not totally sure what they might tell us, but I must try.”
“If there is anything to learn from it, then I have no doubt that you shall discover it,” Adelia said. “You seem to be enjoying this investigative lark.”
“Yes. It is a mental challenge but I should do much better if Mondial could leave me alone. It is not so much that he dogs me but his constant presence encroaches upon my ability to think.”
“He is anxious to stop you from discovering what he does not wish you to know,” Adelia told him.
Theodore looked surprised.
“For goodness’ sake,” she said. “Has that not occurred to you?”
“I confess this is all somewhat perplexing,” Theodore said, looking like a small boy faced with algebra for the first time. “Because although we all have secrets, and Mondial no less than anyone else, I still strongly believe that he is a strictly honourable and upright man. He is married to our daughter and I do not regret that match. For all his faults, I cannot imagine that he would protect a murderer for whatever reason. And before you suggest it, yes, I have contemplated whether he is under some thrall of blackmail. A man’s valet knows a lot about that man, and Taylor could have many sorts of incriminating information about Mondial. Yet ... what? What could that possibly be? No. The idea becomes too ridiculous the more that one examines it.”
“But if all other ideas are cast away, then even the most ridiculous one must be the correct one. Perhaps you only resist the idea of Lord Mondial being involved because you feel he represents your class and if he could be involved in such a dreadful deed, so could anyone.”
Theodore shook his head. “While I agree in principle, dear one, I don’t think we’ve considered all the other available ideas yet. And he was utterly distraught when I encountered him. He was in tears, genuine distress, and that wasn’t just the pain in his arm. We could still be looking at a passing robber, though I know I’ve discounted that idea many times. Or maybe ...”
She finished for him. She knew how his thoughts ran. “Or maybe it was Sir Henry after all.”
“Exactly so.”
He looked glum at the thought of discovering the bright young man was a murderer, and Adelia herself felt no better.
But there was one other person whose presence preyed upon her mind. Abruptly she stood up and went to the door, feeling agitated. There were a few hours before she had to dress for dinner but she didn’t think she would have time to get into town and back. And anyway, what excuse could she come up with? She stopped.
She would go tomorrow. She would go at first light, and seek out her brother, and pay him whatever he needed to go away. And she would ask him about what he might have seen in the grounds of the estate. She couldn’t bear to think of him as a potential murderer.
Perhaps, though, he was a witness.
She hoped that she was right. She knew, in a sick feeling in her stomach, that feeling such hope and longing suggested that there was also the possibility in her mind that she was wrong; that her brother had sunk to new depths, and would very soon be dragging them all down alongside him.
ADELIA MUTTERED SOMETHING that Theodore didn’t quite catch, and left the room. He assumed that she was off to see Harriet, Dido or perhaps his mother. He was glad of the freedom now to do something that would have certainly got him reprimanded if he had tried it in front of his wife. He spread out the dirty, charred clothing on the bed so that he could examine it all more closely. He did try not to get too much dust and dirt on the bedclothes but really, such housekeeping details didn’t matter when it was all about the pursuit of justice.
He pushed the image of an angry Smith out of his mind and set to work.
The jacket had multiple scorched edges as if someone had tried to set it alight in various different places. Being tightly-woven woollen cloth had made it pretty resistant to the flames. One sleeve was burned up to the elbow but the other was mostly intact, though the stitching at the shoulder was loose and torn. The pockets of the jacket both inside and out were all empty. It was lined with rough cloth of a more open weave which had burned far better and was mostly gone. The colour was a muddy brown and there were no labels, notes or distinguishing features.
The shirt was in a worse state as it had burned a little more effectively but it, too, had resisted a total conflagration. The stitching was small and neat but the
re were a few patches that showed repair, albeit very skilfully done. So this shirt had belonged to a man who could not afford to simply buy new ones, but who did have a talented wife or daughters, or who could afford to pay a good seamstress.
To Theodore’s mind, that ruled out a lowlier sort of servant but did not exclude Taylor. I must be careful, he reminded himself, to not become so set on the idea of the valet being a murderer that I overlook or ignore other important clues that might point in a different direction.
Yet the valet remained his prime suspect.
He held the jacket up. It was fitted for a tall, thin man.
One more clue that pointed to Taylor.
He pictured Sir Henry and thought that the man’s youth and outdoor pursuits made him too wide for the jacket to fit him well.
Impulsively, he folded it up to hide the burned areas, and left the suite of rooms abruptly. He wanted to confront Taylor immediately with the evidence. Soon, he had no doubt, word would have spread among the servants about the discovery in the pile of leaves, and he didn’t want Taylor to have any time to prepare his excuses. He knew his rash act of speaking to Taylor might annoy Adelia but he resolved that he would argue that she hadn’t been around for him to consult, or he would have.
He was also aware that impulsive acts did not sit well with the idea of being a cool, calm, rational detective. But didn’t Adelia always tell him to be less rigid? So off he went on his mission.
And he failed utterly.
He didn’t fail in the way that he had expected.
He reached Mondial’s rooms and asked a passing maid where he might find Taylor the valet. He was fully prepared to learn that Mondial cleaved to the very ancient style of household servants and have Taylor sleep on a truckle bed at his feet. In the event, that turned out to not be the case. Taylor had his own small room alongside his master’s.
“But you’ll not find him, my lord,” the chambermaid said. She was middle-aged, yet fresh-faced, and one of the more confident ones. She’d likely been in service for twenty years or more. “He’s been called away on urgent business.”
Theodore stared at her in complete shock. He managed to blurt out, “What manner of business?”
“I don’t know, my lord.”
“Where?”
Again she shrugged. “No idea, my lord.”
“What urgent business could a valet possibly have?”
“Sorry, my lord.”
“Where is Lord Mondial?”
“I don’t know.”
Theodore gave up. She melted away and he stamped back to his rooms. Just when he wanted to speak to the damn man, the Marquis was now nowhere to be found.
Fifteen
Adelia was pleased to have plenty of company at the dinner table that night. Things were certainly livelier with her best friend and her mother-in-law present, and she was heartened to see a little colour back in her daughter Dido’s cheeks, too. Dido was dressed in mourning colours even though Philippa had been only a friend; she argued that she felt like a sister to her, and that mourning was appropriate. Her dark, sombre dress had a high neckline and an air of chastity about it that was not usual for eveningwear.
The Dowager Countess had sniffed and said that she was not intending to dress in mourning as a visitor, and no one could argue with that. The expectation that one would make such ongoing displays of grief that affected everyone even remotely connected to the deceased were dying out these days anyway.
Unlike the Countess whose gloved fingers were absolutely stacked with rings, Adelia had made one concession to Dido’s sensibilities in removing most of her more ostentatious jewellery, and wearing only one small dull grey brooch. Theodore had laughed at her when he noticed it as they sat at the table. “You hate that thing; why did you bring it?”
“Smith always packs a range of colours for me. She says ‘you never know’. In this case, she was right.”
“Smith is always right. If women like her were able to run the country, we’d have no more scandals or upsets. Britain would rule the world.”
“We do rule the world,” the Dowager said snippily, unashamedly listening.
Conversation at the table roamed widely over many topics but, noticeably, did not mention the “unfortunate situation that had happened outside” at all. Adelia kept her eye closely on her husband. He’d told her about the strange case of the missing valet, and she had agreed it sounded odd, but she had given him strict instructions to not raise the matter at dinner. She was pleased to see that he was doing his best to comply.
Due to the expanding company, the conversation after dinner continued to be rather sedate. Word had come back from Miss Lamb’s household that someone would be arriving at some point during the following day to collect her companion but they would be grateful for a bed for the night, due to the distance travelled. Adelia felt sad for the old nurse. She had remained in her rooms ever since the murder, and had resisted all attempts from anyone to draw her out for a few hours. She spoke only to the housekeeper.
They all went to bed late but sober.
In spite of her scant few hours of sleep, Adelia rose early. She dressed well, and informed her husband that she was going into town to purchase some “necessities.”
“Do you need some money?” he asked.
She did, but she was cautious about it. He had never overseen her purchases like many husbands did. Luckily here in this strange town she had none of her habitual lines of credit in Theodore’s name, so she would have to pay cash and he would therefore not scrutinise the accounts of everything she was going to buy.
Or everything that she was going to pretend to buy.
The money was for her brother.
Theodore unrolled some London-issued bank notes but also gave her some coins which were more likely to be accepted by the more provincial shops in town. She pocketed the lot and hurried out before he could think to ask her what, exactly, she needed.
She felt as if she were lying to her husband by saying nothing, and she hated it.
THEODORE DIDN’T GIVE Adelia’s trip to town a second thought. He assumed that she was going with Harriet or perhaps his mother. It didn’t matter. It was probably good for her to go off and indulge in some shopping for fripperies. He had more important things to do; there were his investigations to conduct, and he was determined to find out where Taylor had gone, and why. And did Mondial know about his valet, or was he a mere dupe of a cunning servant?
He left their suite of rooms and headed down to the breakfast room. Adelia had not even eaten before going to the stables where she had already apparently pre-arranged a man and a carriage to drive her into town. On the way to the meal, he fell into step with Sir Henry, who was going the same way. Sir Henry still looked pale and Theodore asked first after his health.
“Oh, I fear that I have discovered I am a weaker man than I once thought I was,” Sir Henry said gloomily. “I am making plans to leave but...”
“Before the garden party?”
“That is the sticking point. Lady Mondial tells me she would be mortally offended if I were to go. Yet under the circumstances, how can I stay? The whole thing is a sham, sir, a sham. It should have been cancelled and I don’t mind who hears me say it.”
“It is certainly unusual but hardly completely unthinkable, at least by the standards of the ton.” Theodore recollected his own misgivings and how his conversation with Mondial had changed his mind when he had discovered their common ground. He could not break the Marquis’s confidence, of course.
“The standards of the ton? The demimonde, if you ask me. I wish that I had lived a hundred years ago when we had a stricter and fairer approach to what is considered appropriate behaviour in polite society,” Sir Henry said in a stiff way.
Theodore laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “What nonsense! You are a young man of – what, thirty? Now, look at me. I am ancient. Nearly twice your age. Let me tell you that things were never better in the past, not at all. It’s a lie we te
ll children, though for what ends I do not know. We live now in an age of true enlightenment and I, for one, am grateful beyond measure for fast steam trains and telegraphs and coal-gas to light our rooms and heat our food. And if standards change and loosen, that is generally a good thing. It might feel as if the rug is rucking up under our feet and catching our step from time to time but one cannot stop progress.”
Sir Henry stared at Theodore and he realised he had been ranting. He ground to a halt and harrumphed awkwardly. “Anyway,” he finished, “That is my opinion. Tell me, what do you make of this urgent business that has apparently called Taylor the valet away?”
The turn in topic took Sir Henry by surprise. “Who – what now?”
“Mondial’s valet has disappeared on supposed urgent business. Had you heard?”
Sir Henry continued to shake his head. “No. What Lord Mondial does with his staff is up to him.”
Theodore was disappointed in the lack of information but he had other people to ask about it, so he put it aside. “You have a man with you?”
“Only Carter. I can’t bear to be plagued by servants at every turn. Carter’s only tolerated because he was my man when I was at sea, and he’s seen the very worst of me. I could hardly let him go; he knows too much.”
“I did not realise you were a naval man.”
“Briefly. It did not suit me. Far too much of the up and down, and I missed green hills and trees. I am an outdoor man, as you know, but you can have too much of the – outdoors. So I am content to be a landowner now, and I am as hands-on as my tenants and bailiff will allow me to be, which is not so very much. Why are the workers of the land so resistant to new devices which can only benefit them? Sorry – forgive me. It is a pet topic of mine.”
“No apology needed! I rambled on and now you should do the same. Please, tell me more. What is the latest in agricultural technology?” Theodore asked with genuine enthusiasm.
