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No Wind of Blame

Page 21

by Georgette Heyer


  Ermyntrude came in. Before anyone could speak, Vicky had cast herself upon the maternal bosom. ‘Oh, mother, mother, don’t let them!’

  The Inspector opened his mouth, and shut it again. Mary said indignantly: ‘Vicky, it’s not fair! Stop it!’

  Ermyntrude clasped her daughter in her arms. Over Vicky’s golden head, she cast a flaming look at Hemingway. ‘What have you been saying to her?’ she demanded, in a voice that would have made a braver man than Hemingway quail. ‘Tell me this instant!’

  ‘It isn’t his fault!’ sobbed Vicky. ‘Alexis has told him about my shooting, and being on the scene! Oh mother, I knew all along Alexis thought I’d done it, but I never, never thought he’d set the police on to me!’

  ‘Oh! ’ said Mary, in a choking voice.

  ‘Alexis told you?’ Ermyntrude said terribly.

  ‘Look here, madam—’

  ‘You called to me, Trudinka?’ said the Prince, appearing suddenly in the doorway. ‘Ah, but what is this? What has distressed the little Vicky?’

  He encountered a look from the widow which made him take an involuntary step backwards.

  ‘Answer me this!’ commanded Ermyntrude. ‘What have you been saying to that man about my child?’

  ‘But, Trudinka—’

  ‘Don’t you call me Trudinka! What did you say to that man?’

  ‘I said nothing! But nothing!’ declared the Prince, the smile quite vanished from his face. ‘If he has told you that I said a word about Vicky, it is a lie!’

  Inspector Hemingway, whose senses were reeling, discovered the breaking-point of his admirable temper. ‘I’ve had more than enough of you!’ he said. ‘Not say a word about her! Oh, didn’t you, indeed!’

  Ermyntrude extended an arm towards the Prince in the most superb gesture of her life. ‘Out of my sight!’ she said. ‘You viper!’

  Twelve

  From that moment, the situation developed with such rapidity, and rose to such heights of dramatic fervour, that Mary, and Hugh, and the Inspector could do nothing but retire into the background. Ermyntrude certainly dominated the stage, but the Prince, no mean performer, very nearly stole the scene from her, once he had recovered from his first stupefaction.

  ‘Above all else, I am a Mother!’ Ermyntrude declared. She then said that she felt herself to be seeing Alexis for the first time, and announced in tragic accents that she had been a blind fool.

  The Prince countered by assuring her that he had been grossly misunderstood by the Inspector, who was a dunderhead; but any mollifying effect that this might have had was at once ruined by Vicky, who accused him of wanting to get her out of the way. This made the Prince lose his temper, and he found himself in the middle of a violent quarrel with his persecutor before he had time to reflect that to call heaven to witness that she was a liar, a mischief-maker, and an unprincipled baggage was scarcely likely to assuage her mother’s wrath. He clapped a hand to his brow, and cried out: ‘Ah, my God, what am I saying? No, no, I do not mean it! But when you try to come between me and this dear Ermyntrude, I grow mad, I do not know what I say! For I love her, do you see? I love her!’

  ‘A fine way to show me you love me!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘Standing there insulting my baby! Oh, my eyes are opened at last! Don’t touch me!’

  ‘Duchinka, be calm!’ implored the Prince. ‘It is a plot to undo me! Do not heed this foolish Vicky! She is jealous, but that I understand, and I forgive. You cannot think that I would seek to harm one who is dear to you!’

  ‘Don’t you talk to me!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘You to try to fling my Vicky to the wolves!’

  ‘Yes, I thought it wouldn’t be long before I got cast for a part in this,’ said the Inspector, in a gloomy undertone.

  ‘But I did not fling her to the wolves! It is false, quite false! Merely, when the police would have accused me, I said, to laugh to scorn the idea, “As well accuse Miss Fanshawe, or Miss Cliffe!” You see? To show the folly of it!’

  Unfortunately Ermyntrude seized on only one point of this explanation, and exclaimed indignantly: ‘You dare to tell me you tried to drag Mary into it too? Well, never did I think to live to see the day when a Prince would behave like a cad! The idea of trying to put the blame on to two innocent girls, when for all we know, it was you who shot poor Wally all along, just because I told you I didn’t hold with divorce! And if you think that I’d marry a man who comes to me with his hands red with my husband’s blood, you’ve got a very funny idea of me in your head, because I wouldn’t marry you, not if you had fifty titles! I dare say that’s the way you carry on in Russia, but you needn’t think you can bring your heathenish ways into this country, because you can’t!’

  The Prince showed signs of being about to tear his hair. ‘But I did not kill your husband! I defy you to say such a thing!’

  ‘Then don’t you let me hear you insinuating that my girl had anything to do with it! No, nor Mary either, for if anyone’s behaved like a daughter to me I’m sure she has, and not a word will I hear against her!’

  ‘Yet it is this quiet, good Mary who benefits by Carter’s death!’ said the Prince, nettled into taking another false step.

  ‘It’s not true! Mary won’t inherit Clara Carter’s fortune!’ said Vicky. ‘Hugh says so!’

  ‘She won’t?’ said Ermyntrude, momentarily diverted. ‘Well, I do call that a shame! Not that I ever believed in Wally’s precious Aunt Clara, because, if you ask me there isn’t any such person. And whatever the rights of it, I call it a real ungentlemanly thing to try to put the blame of Wally’s death on to a couple of girls!’

  Nothing that the Prince could say had the power to move her from this standpoint, and as he had, in fact, tried to do exactly what she accused him of, and was hampered in his denials by the Inspector’s presence, he soon found himself in a very awkward position, and ended by losing his head, and recommending the Inspector to ask himself why the murdered man’s relatives desired so palpably to discredit him.

  It was not necessary for Vicky to fan the flames kindled by this unwary hand. The scene rocketed into the realms of melodrama, with Ermyntrude holding the centre of the stage, and the Prince trying to deliver an impassioned speech which was invariably interrupted at the third word.

  Mary made one attempt to intervene, for she recognised the signs of rising hysteria in Ermyntrude, and guessed that this unleashed rage was to a great extent the outcome of overstrained nerves. Neither of the combatants paid the least attention to her soothing remarks, so she retired again into the background, and told Vicky that she ought to be ashamed of herself.

  The Inspector glanced towards the door, measuring his chances of escape, but before he had made up his mind to risk the attempt, a fresh actor appeared upon the scene. Dr Chester stood upon the threshold, surveying the room. ‘What in the name of all that’s wonderful is the matter?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, Maurice, thank God you’ve come!’ cried Mary, hurrying across the room towards him. ‘Oh, for Heaven’s sake, do something!’

  He took her hand, but looked towards Ermyntrude. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  Her wrath had exhausted Ermyntrude. She collapsed suddenly on to the sofa, and burst into tears. ‘Ask him! Ask him what he said about my Vicky!’ she sobbed. ‘Oh, I’ve never been so deceived in anyone in my life!’

  The Prince at once burst into speech, but as his agitation had made him forget his English, no one, least of all the doctor, could understand much of what he said. It was Mary who gave the doctor a hurried account of the quarrel. He betrayed neither surprise nor indignation, but merely said that since the situation was clearly impossible, he thought the Prince had better come and stay at his house until after the Inquest.

  Ermyntrude, who was weeping on Vicky’s shoulder, lifted her head to say in a broken voice that she was sure she didn’t want to hurry the Prince’s departure
, but Mary threw the doctor a look of heartful gratitude, and took the Prince aside to explain to him that Ermyntrude’s nerves were in such a precarious condition that she feared a breakdown, and thought he would be better out of the house.

  Finally, the Prince went upstairs to superintend the packing of his suitcases; Ermyntrude was resuscitated with brandy, and smelling-salts; and the rest of the party, with the exception of Vicky, who stayed to hold her mother’s hand, withdrew into the hall.

  Mary said: ‘I’ll never forget this, Maurice, never! You are the truest friend anyone ever had!’

  ‘Well, I think I’d better be getting along,’ said Hugh. ‘Can I give you a lift, Inspector?’

  ‘No, thank you, sir: the police-car’s waiting for me. Now, I don’t want to worry you, miss, but just tell me one thing! Was Mrs Carter thinking of divorcing her husband, or was she not?’

  ‘No, no, of course she wasn’t!’ replied Mary. ‘She told me quite definitely that nothing would induce her to.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s all I wanted to know,’ said Hemingway, and left the house in Hugh Dering’s wake.

  In the porch he drew a long breath, and said: ‘Talk about the old Lyceum! Why, it was nothing to it! Don’t you run away, sir! I want you to tell me just what that young terror was playing at! I don’t mind owning I didn’t see my way at all.’

  ‘I warned you that you were in for a shock,’ grinned Hugh.

  ‘Seems to me you’d better have warned me to bring along my trick cycle,’ retorted the Inspector. ‘Quite out of the picture, I was. Well, I’ve met some queer people in my time, but this little lot fairly takes my breath away. Don’t tell me the Duchess of Malfi isn’t on the stage, because I wouldn’t believe you!’

  Hugh laughed. ‘Was, not is. Are you interested in the Drama?’

  ‘I am, but I never had a bit of use for Family Charades. What was it all about, that’s what I’d like to know?’

  ‘Miss Fanshawe,’ said Hugh carefully, ‘does not wish her mother to marry Prince Varasashvili.’

  ‘Well, I’m bound to say she shows sense,’ remarked the Inspector. ‘All the same, you’d think the girl could think of some way of getting rid of him without putting on a three-reel drama, wouldn’t you? The nerve of her dragging me into her antics! Not but what it was a highly talented performance. She’s got more brain than I gave her credit for.’

  At this moment, Vicky came out of the house. ‘Oh, good, you haven’t gone!’ she said, addressing Hugh. ‘It’s suddenly dawned on me that it’s very nearly eight o’clock. You’d better stay to dinner, because you’ll be frightfully late if you go back to the Manor. Besides, we may as well think out a good plan of campaign while we have the chance.’ She noticed the Inspector, half-hidden in the shadows beyond the shaft of light coming through the open door. ‘Oh, you weren’t meant to hear that! I dare say it doesn’t actually matter, but I do rather feel that it’s time you went home.’

  ‘Thanks to you, miss, I’m feeling very much the same myself. I suppose you didn’t happen to think when you were carrying on like that, that there might be two ways of looking at that big act of yours?’

  ‘There aren’t two ways of looking at the Prince,’ said Vicky positively. ‘Anyone can see that he’s utterly apocryphal, besides being a complete adder.’

  ‘We won’t go into that,’ said the Inspector. ‘What I meant was, that you were so anxious to get me to say I’d a case against you to suit your own ends, that perhaps you didn’t stop to think whether I might really have a case against you?’

  ‘That’s nonsense!’ Hugh said quickly.

  The Inspector looked at him. ‘Oh, is it? What makes you so sure of that, sir?’

  ‘I saw Miss Fanshawe when she came up from the bridge. If she had just shot her stepfather, she’s a better actress than she’s yet given me any reason to suppose.’

  ‘Well, you needn’t spoil it!’ said Vicky indignantly. ‘What about the act I’ve just put on? I thought it went awfully well, and though you may not know it, it isn’t everyone who can cry real tears in an act. I did!’

  ‘Why didn’t your dog bark, miss?’

  ‘I can’t think, and it’s bothered me a lot,’ replied Vicky frankly. ‘Does that look as though I must have done it? Shall you arrest me?’

  ‘Go inside, you impossible brat!’ said Hugh, grasping her by the arm, and twisting her round. ‘You don’t want her, do you, Inspector?’

  ‘No, sir, you’re more than welcome,’ replied Hemingway.

  Hugh pushed Vicky into the house, and shook her. ‘You ought to have been drowned at birth! Do you imagine all this is some kind of a parlour game?’

  ‘Oh no, I think it’s quite ghoulish, and as a matter of fact, it gives me nightmares. Oh, I can hear Alexis! Come quickly into the library! It would be most frightfully gauche and tactless of me to run into him after all that lovely sabotage! Besides, I’m going to ring up Robert.’

  ‘What the devil for?’ demanded Hugh, following her into the library.

  Vicky picked up the receiver and began to dial a number. ‘Oh, don’t be silly! It’s his cue, of course. You’ve no idea how cherishing he is, which is just what Ermyntrude needs. Darling Robert! He wouldn’t try and set the police on to little Vicky!… Oh, is that you, Robert? This is Vicky. Would you like to come and see Ermyntrude after dinner? I thought it would be a goodish sort of a move if you were just to drift in too utterly casually, because everything is most dislocated here, and I’m practically imprisoned already, which is naturally very upsetting for Ermyntrude… Oh no, truly, I’m not joking! It’s only that I do so believe in wearing a brave smile, like Invictus… No, I don’t think I could explain over the telephone, on account of people listening in… Oh no! that’s all part of it; he’s gone – at least, he’s going… Yes, I thought you would. Good-bye, and come at about nine!’ She put down the receiver, and turned towards Hugh, who was standing with his shoulders against the door, somewhat grimly regarding her. ‘The great thing is to strike while the iron’s hot,’ she said earnestly.

  ‘Does it occur to you,’ said Hugh, ‘that this matchmaking of yours is a trifle premature?’

  ‘No, because Ermyntrude simply must have a protector. Poor sweet, she’s not very sensible, you know, and she might quite easily let her kind heart get the better of her, and forgive Alexis, which would be fatal. Even you must see that he’s the most appalling menace!’

  Hugh could not deny this, but said: ‘You’re a bit of a menace yourself, if I may say so, Vicky.’

  ‘Yes, but I have the most beautiful intentions,’ Vicky assured him.

  But Mary, when they joined her in the dining-room a quarter of an hour later, seemed unable to perceive the beauty of Vicky’s intentions. She had done what she could do to soothe the Prince’s injured feelings, and had bidden him a most civil farewell upon the doorstep; and she had then been called to Ermyntrude’s side, so that she had a good deal of excuse for being out of temper.

  Although Ermyntrude had chosen to have her dinner sent into the drawing-room on a tray, conversation between Hugh and the two girls was necessarily of a spasmodic nature, since the butler was continually coming in and out of the room. This helped to add to Mary’s exasperation, and by the time the dessert was on the table, and they were finally rid of Peake, she was cross enough, and tired enough, to say angrily to Vicky: ‘Well, I hope you’re satisfied with your work!’

  ‘Artistes are never wholly satisfied, but I must say I thought it went with quite a swing,’ replied Vicky sunnily.

  ‘It may interest you to know that I think you behaved disgustingly! I was absolutely ashamed of you!’

  ‘But, darling, be fair!’ begged Vicky. ‘You said only yesterday that you didn’t know how on earth to get rid of Alexis.’

  ‘I never dreamed you meant to do anything so ill-bred, and – and atr
ocious!’

  ‘No, but I do rather feel that we couldn’t have got rid of Alexis in a well-bred way. As a matter of fact, I’ve been frightfully bothered about it the whole afternoon, because I found him making the most subtle love to Ermyntrude, and I couldn’t see my way at all. Only he very kindly played right into my hands, setting the police on to me.’

  ‘I don’t believe he did any such thing!’

  ‘Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there, Mary!’ Hugh interposed. ‘Every time I’ve had the privilege of meeting him, he’s managed to cast suspicion on to someone or other.’

  ‘Next you’ll say that you enjoyed that vulgar exhibition!’ snapped Mary.

  ‘Well, I did, rather,’ Hugh confessed. ‘You must admit it was epic!’

  ‘I don’t admit anything of the kind. I feel hot with shame whenever I think of it.’

  ‘Poor sweet, that isn’t shame: this room’s awfully stuffy. I’ll open a window, shall I?’ suggested Vicky.

  ‘No! I’m only sorry that you can’t see how badly you’ve behaved. Hugh may think it was very funny, and egg you on, but Maurice didn’t. He said you ought to be smacked!’

  ‘How dear and mild of him! He’s rather precious, isn’t he? Hugh said I ought to have been drowned at birth.’

  ‘You can try to turn it into a joke as much as you like, but you won’t succeed in getting me to see the humour of it. You pitchforked us into a perfectly ghastly scene – in front of that Inspector, too! – and though I don’t expect you to care about my feelings, I should have thought you’d have had more consideration for your mother than to have upset her like that.’

  ‘Darling, you simply can’t imagine how resilient the poor lamb is! Besides, I’ve told Robert to look in this evening. To catch her first bounce, you know, because I quite agree it would be fatal for her just to trickle away to some frightful person on the boundary.’

  ‘Vicky, how can you talk like that?’

  Vicky stretched out a hand towards a dish of grapes. ‘But, dearest pet, I don’t see that it would be a bit helpful of me to pretend that Ermyntrude isn’t the sort of darling idiot who’ll make the most unparalleled muck of things, if not cherished by a Good Man. Well, I mean to say, just look at the way she fell for Wally, who was an utter loss! Naturally, you don’t see it as I do, because she isn’t your mother; but it’s no good expecting me to sit back in a well-bred way while she lets a boa-constrictor like Alexis coil himself all round her.’

 

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