“Of course. Hmm, I’ll have to see if I can learn what is wrong with Lady Esther, and if we should visit her, or simply send our best wishes for her recovery. I recall her as a rather crotchety old woman even while I was growing up. I can’t imagine what she’s like now.”
“Still crotchety when I last saw her.” My teeth clacked together as Bridget yanked the comb through a section of my hair, bouncing my head about.
“Speaking of family, I suppose I should find out whom to contact about the footman. I don’t know what to do about a funeral either.” She raised her hands. “I’ve never had anyone on my staff die before.”
“I suspect Mrs. Ansel or Crocker might be able to give you some guidance there. I have the direction for his closest family so you can write them. They can tell you their wishes. In the meantime, the doctor is doing some tests, and I have no idea how long that will take.”
“What type of tests?”
“To determine if Michael died from arsenic poisoning.”
“I thought he already decided that.”
I shrugged. “He’s relatively confident, but wants to be certain.”
“Well, I certainly hope he’s right. Otherwise, we’ll be back to chaos in the servants’ hall again, with everyone suspecting one of them murdered the boy, and no one willing to eat for fear of Mrs. Humphries’s cooking.”
I too would be relieved to know for certain if Michael’s death was accidental, but even with my doubts, I’d be willing to sample Mrs. Humphries’s cooking. “Please say we are to have luncheon soon, Fiona.”
“Absolutely. We meet the gentlemen for a picnic lunch then we walk to the village this afternoon.”
* * *
Apparently, the shoot was going well. The gentlemen were all in good spirits when they broke for a quick luncheon with us. Today they were hunting on the grounds of Greenbriars, a neighboring estate to the south of Risings, belonging to a Mr. Easton. He and his brother-in-law had joined the shooting party today. Fiona made arrangements for the two gentlemen and Mrs. Easton to dine with us later in the week.
We chatted for an hour or so, but the guns were calling to the men, and as soon as the last bite was eaten, they returned to the fields. One of them, with great reluctance.
Ernest Treadwell stood by Lily’s side and called out to Leo. “The ladies are to have an outing this afternoon, old man. If you choose not to accompany your fiancée, perhaps I should.”
The sunlight shone on Treadwell’s fair head, casting a reflection almost like a halo, though I didn’t believe his motive to be angelic. “Suit yourself, Treadwell.” Leo was already moving away. “You escort the ladies to the shops, and I’ll bring home dinner.” He turned to wink at the group of us. “We’ll see which of us makes the better impression.”
Heavens, Lily really must put an end to this. The younger Kendrick girls were involved in another of their endless arguments, but Eliza Durant stared daggers at Lily and Treadwell. I came to my feet with the intention of sending the man on his way when Fiona spoke up.
“Take yourself off, Treadwell,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hands as she approached the pair. “This outing is for ladies only. I’ve been walking to the village since I was a child and there is no need for male protection. Go back to your shoot. Mr. Kendrick is correct. We need the birds for dinner, and I expect you to shoot a brace of them.”
Mr. Treadwell hesitated, as if he might just refuse to leave, but ultimately, he grinned, made Fiona a courtly bow, and headed after the departing gentlemen. Lily stood, staring at her shoes until I took her arm and led her toward the lane, neglecting my duty of keeping Anne Kendrick in my care. Right now, my own sister required my attention.
“What are you doing?” I hissed as soon as we were far enough away from the group.
She pulled herself from her stupor and gave me an angry glare. “What do you mean?”
“We discussed this. I thought you agreed to discourage Mr. Treadwell?”
Her look of shock seemed a bit forced, but mine was quite genuine. I’d expected anything but this. “Tell me the truth. Are the two of you carrying on?”
This time I’d truly surprised her. “No, no. Nothing like that. Goodness, Franny, you know I love Leo more than anything.”
“Of course, I do. I would have wagered money on it.”
“Well, there you have it then.”
I opened my mouth but found no words. The rest of our group gathered their belongings and made ready for the walk to the village. Clara Kendrick came to a dead stop in front of Anne. “Who gave you permission to wear my shoes?”
I tugged Lily over to the lane and headed in the direction of the village, grateful the argument about to ensue would cover our conversation.
“There I have what? You have given me nothing, least of all an explanation for why you are allowing Treadwell to—to—” I waved my hands, struggling for the right words. “Why are you encouraging him?”
“I’m not. He is just—” She let off with a sigh. “It is nice to have someone paying me some attention.”
I stared. “When did Leo stop attending to you?”
“From the moment we set out for Risings.” Her eyes glistened with tears. She gave them a swipe with the back of her hand. “Either he’s talking business with Durant, or he’s following Mr. Hazelton around like a puppy. He’s completely caught up with the shooting party and having such a lovely time with the other gentlemen, I might as well be invisible.”
I suppressed a smile. “These are the final days before he becomes a married man, dearest. I suspect he is planning to enjoy them before he buckles down to become the model husband.”
She made a rude noise with her lips. “I suppose I should be grateful he is willing to saddle himself with a wife.”
“Lily, where is this coming from?” And then I remembered. “You are worried about the added pressure of the baby. Is that it? That you will be starting your family so quickly?”
We walked on a bit before she answered. “To be honest, I don’t know. There is just so much happening. Changing the wedding without consulting his parents. Keeping the baby a secret from them. Getting married in the first place. It’s all so overwhelming, and I suppose I want Leo to be at my side, telling me everything will be fine.”
“Is he aware of your concerns?”
Lily shook her head. “I know. How can he reassure me when he has no idea I’m troubled?” She spread her arms out in a helpless gesture. “I realize it makes no sense and I can’t explain what I don’t understand myself.”
The poor dear. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to my side. “One thing that may help to explain it is that pregnancy is an emotional time for the mother. You’re well, then you’re unwell, bouts of exhaustion and bursts of energy, neither of which make any sense or follow any pattern. It also becomes more difficult to keep any sort of control over one’s emotions. And in your case, you must keep your condition a secret, at least for a while, which only increases your distress. Add to that your change in wedding plans, and who could blame you for feeling overwhelmed?”
“Yes! Yes.” She seemed to sag with relief. “I’m so glad you understand, but why doesn’t Leo? Why, when I need him so much, is he off having fun with the gentlemen?”
“Because he doesn’t know, Lily. You could tell him. Leo’s devoted to you. He would immediately glue himself to your side for the remainder of your pregnancy.”
Lily chewed on her lip, her gaze fixed on the ground in front of us.
“Or you can unburden yourself to me. Let me take care of you and allow Leo to enjoy this week. The poor man works hard. He doesn’t have as much leisure as these other gentlemen. That might explain why you fell in with Treadwell in the first place. Leo is always attending to business. Treadwell is at leisure.”
She made a noise that might have been agreement, so I pushed forward. “This is a treat for Leo. By the end of the week, it will be just the two of you. The wedding will be over, and you w
ill have him all to yourself.”
She blew her breath out in a sigh. “You are right. He deserves to enjoy himself. He doesn’t have many opportunities to do so.”
“You deserve to enjoy yourself as well. But you must do something to discourage Mr. Treadwell. I’m concerned he believes he could win you away from Leo.”
She angled a glance my way. “But he can’t.”
I widened my eyes. “Then isn’t it unfair to allow him to believe it?”
“Hmm. I will miss him.”
“Not as much as you would miss Leo.”
She threw me a sharp glance. “You think Leo would abandon me because of Mr. Treadwell’s attentions?”
“I’m not entirely certain Leo has even noticed. He sees nothing but good in everyone. But I have no doubt others have noticed, Eliza Durant for one. She might very well mention it to her brother. How would you feel if the situation were reversed? What if Leo and Lottie were forever flirting with one another, or if Leo were encouraging her interest?”
“Yes, I see what you mean. All right, Frances. I shall do my best to discourage him, but he is Leo’s friend so I cannot avoid him altogether.”
“The men will be out shooting most mornings this week so it shouldn’t be that difficult.”
We had reached the edge of the village and paused to let the others catch up with us. “The church is just off to our left, Lily. Would you like to see it?”
“Yes, that would be lovely. Would it be rude to separate ourselves from the rest of the group?”
“As long as we don’t take long. Fiona and Lottie cannot keep the Kendrick girls apart by themselves.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Why do you wish to keep them apart?”
“The constant bickering. Haven’t you noticed?”
Lily chuckled. “I suppose I’ve become used to it. It never occurred to me to divide them. I’ll try to help with that.”
When the ladies caught up with us, we told Fiona of our plans for a short visit to the church and received her blessing to meet them in the village. We turned our steps to the east. I’d found the church beautifully picturesque on my first visit, and as we walked up the gravel path with a small cemetery to one side and a peaceful garden on the other, I hoped Lily would find herself equally enchanted with the vine-covered stone building. I was rewarded when I heard her sigh.
“It’s simply beautiful,” she said.
I took her hand and pulled her along. “Wait until you see the interior. The steep roof you see results in an impressive vaulted ceiling on the inside.”
We were surprised to find a woman in the church. She was perhaps a decade older than I, with brown hair pulled into a low knot, wearing spectacles and a serviceable blue dress. She carried a stack of hymnals in her arms. “Good day, ladies. May I be of service to you?”
I introduced ourselves and learned she was the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Carruthers. Once she learned Lily was to be married at this very church on Saturday, she divested herself of the books and set about showing her every detail of the church. Afterward, she insisted we retire to the vicarage for tea.
Mrs. Carruthers seemed so eager for our company I determined we could spare her the fifteen or twenty minutes to indulge in a nice coze. We declined any food and chatted about church business as she made the tea.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “You’ll be glad to know Mr. Gibbs is comfortably installed at his sister’s cottage now. I took over some provisions to her since she’s not used to having a man about the house. Her own husband’s been passed these ten years, and she’s happy as a lark to be fussing over her brother.”
“I’m pleased he has someone to care for him. It was such a terrible accident, and he was so badly injured, he couldn’t possibly get by on his own. Is his pain any more bearable?”
With a tilt of her head, she slanted a look over the top of her spectacles. “If his humor is anything to judge by, I’d say not. I was as polite and pleasant as I could be, and it’s only natural I should ask what happened. But the moment I suggested he fell from his horse, well, I thought he was about to have some sort of fit. Tells me he never fell. Someone knocked him off that horse.”
“Yes, he made mention of that yesterday, too. But I don’t know how that could have happened.”
“Chances are the poor man just fell and doesn’t want to admit it. He’s getting on in years, and he doesn’t ride as much as he did back in his day. Mostly he sits behind a desk, from what I understand.” She chuckled. “But don’t tell him that or he may threaten to remove his shirt.”
“Remove his shirt?” Lily wrinkled her nose. “Why ever would he do that?”
She gave us a knowing nod. “He claims he has the welt across his chest that proves something whacked him right good, and that’s what knocked him to the ground.”
Lily harrumphed. “More likely he ran into something.”
I thought of the bit of line I found this morning, stuck in the branches of a tree. It was right about where Gibbs fell. “Perhaps he did run into something,” I said. “Did he say what hit him?”
“Not to me. All I heard from him was bellowing and barking.” Mrs. Carruthers shrugged. “A branch maybe. That would leave a mark.”
“You don’t know of anyone who would want to hurt him, do you?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t pay his complaints any mind, my lady. He’s just a man who doesn’t want to admit to a failing. No one around here would want to do him any harm. He fell off his horse, and now he’s embarrassed. Mark my words, that’s the long and short of it.”
If one rides enough, at some point one will take a spill—hardly cause for embarrassment. But then I wasn’t a man, and I didn’t take a fall in front of my employer, or his proxy, that is. Which, by the way, was something Gibbs and Michael O’Brien had in common—they both worked for the Earl of Hartfield. Perhaps no one had a grudge against either of the men in question, but might someone have a grudge against the earl? Mrs. Carruthers might be right, but with two so-called accidents happening, one after the other, I wasn’t ready to mark her words just yet.
Chapter 8
“How did I allow us to be thirteen at the table?” Fiona clucked her tongue. “How very unlucky.”
I smiled to myself as a footman leaned in beside me to fill my bowl with creamy chestnut soup. Fiona looked more surprised by the number than distressed.
“Shall I leave, my dear?” Sir Robert rose to his feet, his bowl in hand and mischief in his eyes. “We can’t allow bad luck to interfere with the shoot, and I’m likely the one you are most willing to lose.”
Fiona scowled at him from across the table. As George’s hostess, she sat at the head, while her husband dined at the other end with George, Lottie, Durant, and myself. “Do sit down, Nash, before you spill that soup and cause more trouble.”
“You needn’t leave, Nash.” I gave him a wink. “I can simply fetch Rose down to join us.”
“Well, now that would do.” A few of us chuckled, but Fiona looked quite serious.
“Fiona, she’s eight years of age. She dined hours ago.”
She released a little huff before dipping her spoon into her soup. “I suppose we shall have to cross our fingers or find some other way to restore our luck.”
“Perhaps tomorrow you can invite Mr. Bradmore to join us for dinner.”
“Bother, I completely forgot to inquire about Lady Esther today.” She cut her gaze to George. “Do you remember Lady Esther, George? Frances tells me she is in the country and not in good health. If she is well enough to receive us, do you wish to call on her with me?”
George suddenly became very interested in his soup, keeping his gaze directed there. “You should not plan on me, Fi. I have the shoot to organize, you know.”
I saw a slight grimace before she pasted on a smile and turned to me. “At any rate, you are right, Frances. I’ll invite him for tomorrow, and we’ll be back to a more fortuitous number.”
“I’d say o
ur luck has been jolly good.” Charles Evingdon, seated on Fiona’s right, bobbed his head vigorously in her direction. “Never had such a good day’s shooting, not that I’ve ever shot woodcock before, mind you, but I should think this would go down as a good day’s shooting in anyone’s estimation. I might just make a record of this day. Something to recall in my old age. Tell my grandchildren and all that. An excellent day, I’d say.”
He flashed his dimples at Anne Kendrick, seated on his right, who seemed at a loss for words and turned quickly to Leo on her other side. Following suit, I turned to George, seated on my left. “Cousin Charles appears to have enjoyed himself today,” I said in a low voice.
“You know Charles, he always seems to enjoy himself. Though I may need to ask him to bridle his enthusiasm in the future.” George lowered his voice to a whisper. “His constant chatter had the birds flying off far ahead of us. Thus, our count was rather low today.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind, but the Easton men were keen to bag a larger number.”
“Where will you shoot tomorrow?” Lottie sat opposite me on George’s left. Her bright smile led me to believe she hadn’t heard us speaking of her husband.
“On the other side of the village. William Stafford’s property. So that will mean an early call for all of us. Stafford likes an early start.”
As George had turned to Lottie, I engaged Mr. Durant on the topic. “Are you enjoying the shooting party?” He lowered his spoon and gave my question more consideration than I thought it should warrant. Durant was an interesting man. The oldest son in the family, he could expect to inherit a title, but not much fortune or property. As I had married a fortune hunter, I wondered if he was of the same ilk.
While the footman removed our now-empty bowls, he peered at me through the lenses of his spectacles, which magnified his small, brown eyes. “Shooting. Right. Excellent diversion if one has the time. I rarely indulge in such pastimes.”
A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder Page 8
