“You heard me folding clothes from the hallway?”
“I have excellent hearing. Now your mistress should be gone for another hour or so. You ought to take advantage of this rare time off-duty.”
She gave me a careful look, along with a curtsy, and headed down the hall to the servants’ passage. She cast a single glance over her shoulder, but when I nodded encouragement, she pushed through the door and was gone.
I released a sigh and stepped back into Eliza’s room. I’d no sooner reached the bed when George popped his head around the door. “That was the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard,” he said, closing the door behind him and heading to the highboy.
“What was I to do? Back out and pretend I’d walked into the wrong room? I don’t keep a list of falsehoods at the ready for such occasions, but if we were to search this room, we had to get her out of here on some pretext or other.”
I glared while he struggled to hold back a snicker. “I’m sure you could have done better, but I didn’t see you coming forward with a story of your own.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have sent her below stairs to some fictitious tea. What happens when Bridget tells her she has no idea what the girl is talking about?”
“Bridget will always back me up no matter what I tell someone. And as for the tea, it is not a fiction. Bridget told me about it this morning.” I sniffed. “They should have invited the girl in the first place. Then I would not have had to fib.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Then all I can say is, well done.” He nodded. “I’ll also remember Bridget will lie for you.”
I’d slipped to my knees to search under the bed. “You needn’t worry, George. I’ve always told you the truth.” Leaning my elbows against the bed I frowned, wondering if that were true. “At least I think I have.”
He released a bark of laughter as I glanced under the bed. Perfectly clear. Now for the mattress. While I ran my hand under the fluffy ticking, he pulled open drawers from the highboy. “Should I put away these shirtwaists, do you think?”
“Please do. I’d hate to give Eliza a reason to chastise the girl.” Having found nothing, I came to my feet and headed for the dressing room next to George.
“What do we have here?”
I glanced at him as he unfolded a sheet of expensive vellum. He perused the note, let out a little sound of disbelief, and handed it to me.
Taking it from his fingers, I noted the upright script and the closing—Yours, Ernest—before reading the message. There could be no interpretation other than one of affection and intimacy between Eliza and the writer.
I let my hand fall to my side, still holding the note. “This is truly astonishing. I was under the impression they could barely tolerate one another.”
“I’d say there is a good deal of tolerance involved, but it’s all on Durant’s side.”
“Do you suppose he knows his wife is in love with another man?”
George tipped his head and narrowed one eye. “I don’t know that love has anything to do with it.”
I held the letter aloft. “He refers to Eliza as the sunlight in his otherwise dreary day. A man only says words like that when he’s in love.”
“Or when he hopes to convince the lady to share his bed.”
“Hmm, all right then. Do you suppose he knows Eliza is involved with Treadwell? They made such a display of their antagonism, I suppose it was to mask their relationship.” I let out a groan. “His attentions to Lily. Do you think that was just a ruse as well?”
“Either that, or he used Lily to make Eliza jealous.”
I leaned back against the wall, considering their actions over the past few days. “That might be it. Eliza was able to ignore Treadwell until he became attentive to Lily. That’s when she’d snap at her sisters or make some waspish comment to him. She was jealous. Perhaps her rendezvous with the under-butler was an attempt to pay him back.”
“I think we can say your sister is safe from Treadwell. By the way, do you know if Kendrick caught up with him this morning?”
“Indeed he did, and he gave him the thrashing you spoke of. Bridget told me she saw them out by the maze, and after a bout of fisticuffs, they limped back to the house like two old friends. Apparently, all is well between them again.” I shook my head. “I still say he deserved it—playing with Lily’s affections and dallying with Leo’s sister.”
George positioned himself beside me and crossed his arms. “So, Treadwell’s a cad. How does that signify in this case?”
I pressed two fingers against my temples to stop the dull throbbing. “If the man would have an affair with Leo’s married sister and romance his fiancée at the same time, he has an extraordinary idea of friendship. To me, that makes him rather despicable, and a likely candidate for a would-be assassin.”
“Despicable or not, what would be his motive for murdering Leo? Their friendship gives him an excuse for at least occasional contact with Eliza. Given what we’ve just learned, I’d think he’d prefer Leo stay alive.”
“And they do appear to be on good terms again. What about Durant?”
George rubbed a hand across his chin. “That’s a bit more complicated. Is he aware of his wife’s escapades?”
“Does he care? He and Eliza married because Mr. Kendrick favored the match. Durant thought that would gain him a partnership in the company.” I shrugged. “I’ve no idea why Eliza agreed.”
“If Durant sees Leo as standing in his way, he still has a motive. His wife’s infidelity plays no role.”
“Before we dismiss Treadwell, I suggest we check his room while we still can.”
Treadwell’s room produced nothing of any significance. If he received any notes from Eliza, he wisely chose not to keep them or at least he’d hid them better. As the rest of our party were set to return at any moment, we decided to end our search efforts for the afternoon. We separated at the door—George to meet with the gamekeeper to see about tomorrow’s shoot, and me to my room, where Bridget was waiting to take me to task for involving her in yet another subterfuge.
I pled necessity, and before long she was chuckling about the incident. As it turned out she found Eliza’s maid, Cora, to be a delightful girl, and I was right, they should have invited her in the first place.
With that settled, and my hair put back in place, I headed downstairs to see if anyone was about. I found my mother, Lily, and Mr. Bradmore in the drawing room. I bid them a good afternoon and asked if they had enjoyed their outing.
My mother, comfortably ensconced in the corner of the sofa, set down her embroidery and glanced up over the rims of her spectacles. “There you are, Frances. We had a lovely time in the village and came across Mr. Bradmore while we were about it.”
I nodded to Bradmore and seated myself beside Lily, placing her between me and my mother. Bradmore sat across from us.
“You should have come along with us,” Mother continued. “I can’t imagine what Hazelton needed you for. You are a guest here; you should be enjoying yourself. Isn’t that right, Mr. Bradmore?”
Bradmore looked confused at being asked to weigh in. “I think Lady Harleigh never shirks her responsibilities yet finds time to enjoy herself.”
Which meant the man was a coward and preferred not to take sides.
“Just what are your responsibilities, Mr. Bradmore?” Lily asked. “You are staying with Lady Esther now, but do you have a household of your own? In what part of the country do you reside?”
Coming from one as young as Lily, the questions were impertinent, but as I, and apparently my mother, were just as interested in the answers, neither of us reproached her. Instead, we turned our inquiring gazes his way.
He looked for all the world like a trapped animal. “I have rooms in London,” he began hesitantly.
Lily pounced. “But I understand you are rarely in London. Where do you make your home?”
“I spend much of my time on the continent.”
She gave him a cold smile. “Whe
re, exactly?”
“Lily, have I not taught you better manners than this?” My mother was every bit as curious as her daughter. Bradmore was an unattached gentleman after all, and one who would be coming into a title someday. Even though Lily was about to be married, Mother currently had two single daughters, and she’d love nothing more than to find out if he could be a potential son-in-law. While out loud she questioned Lily’s manners, what she really meant was, hadn’t she taught her daughter more artful interrogation techniques?
She didn’t know Lily’s motivation was of an entirely different nature. This man might be out to hurt Leo, and she would use any means to draw him out and put a stop to his plans.
Bradmore looked decidedly uncomfortable. “France?”
“Indeed? Where in France would that be? The Kendricks have a manufacturing facility somewhere around Strasbourg. Have you ever been there?”
“No. I have a cousin in Provence. We’ve been close since childhood, and I spend a great deal of time at his home with his family. I also have rooms in Paris where I go when I wish to take in the art or theater.”
“Is that where you were before coming to the country?” I asked.
“No, I came up from London.”
“On Sunday? I wonder if you were on our train.”
He smiled politely. “My train arrived quite early Sunday morning. I understand yours was a few hours later.”
Mother didn’t chide me for my questions. She might be losing interest in Bradmore. Heir to a title or not, if he had no estate at which to settle down, and he spent his life wandering about the world, he would simply not do in her opinion. It did seem he had no plans to marry and start a family anytime soon. Men were inequitably lucky in that way. Unless they had to work for a living or run an estate, they were free to do as they wished. His life reminded me a bit of George’s.
Except, of course, Bradmore might be a killer.
Chapter 18
As it turned out, poor Clara, who’d started the whole ruckus about the ladies joining the shoot, was herself unable to participate, owing to her injury. So, bright and early the following morning, only three of us ladies gathered in the drive with the gentlemen. Lily had conquered her morning queasiness by sheer force of will in order to be at Leo’s side and ward off any possible danger involved in the so-called trap to catch our killer.
“I must say, this is the most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard. I have no idea why we’re going along with it.”
I gave my sister a “buck up” pat on the shoulder. Since last night, this was only the sixth or seventh time I’ve heard her opinion on the matter. While I shared the sentiment, the fact was, George and Leo were the principals in this scheme, and they considered it a lovely idea.
It took the better part of an hour last night for George to convince Leo someone might want to murder him, and it wasn’t until George conceded that he might actually be the killer’s target, that Leo agreed to participate. Today’s shoot would take place on the Risings estate where at some point moorland, woodland, and pond converged. George and Leo would enter the woods on the pretext of cutting across to the other side of the pond in search of more coveys. George expected the killer to follow, and there, they and Tuttle would lay in wait for him.
That was the plan in its entirety—isolate the two men and hope the killer came after them. No wonder he hadn’t told me about it sooner.
“It’s not perfect, of course,” George had said. “But we must try something to flush the killer out. I’m hoping he won’t be able to resist a chance to take a shot at Leo. Or me,” he amended when Lily shot him a glare.
I wasn’t convinced. “It’s nowhere close to perfect. What is to keep him from shooting you during the event? With birds flying, and gentlemen shooting, would anyone even notice until after you’ve been hit? You should call off the shoot and find some other way to flush this man out.”
The four of us had debated the subject well into the evening, with George and Leo insisting the shoot must continue. Canceling would let the killer know we’re suspicious. George also thought it a way to make the culprit show his hand, and now that he and Leo were on guard, they might very well catch the fiend.
“It’s because we’re women,” Lily said, folding her arms in front of her, “that our logic is falling on deaf ears. If Hazelton told Leo the plan was ill-conceived, Leo would change his mind immediately, and vice versa.”
“I’m not so sure about vice versa. I believe George is so stubbornly determined to shoot, he isn’t about to let anyone stop him.” Such determination was admirable, but it might also be one of those flaws Fiona had mentioned.
“I need coffee,” Lily said, and wandered off toward one of the footmen attending the group gathered on the front drive.
George’s boots scuffed the gravel as he approached. He looked even less rested than I at this early hour. “Have I mentioned I’d rather you not join the shoot?” He wore an expression of concern.
“Not in the last five minutes. I admire your restraint.”
Another matter of contention between us was that George wanted me to stay at the house and out of danger. But on that point, I prevailed. That is if this was to be considered prevailing—out of my bed by six o’clock and dressed in sturdy boots, tweed walking skirt and jacket—almost, but not quite enough protection against the damp morning chill. Boisterous and eager gentlemen surrounded me, wearing tweeds and gaiters, and brandishing shotguns.
George held his under his arm. And he looked quite fetching in tweeds and gaiters. “If you are out there and shadowing Bradmore,” he said, “I shall only worry about you.”
“We settled this last night. You can’t keep an eye on Bradmore, Durant, Treadwell, and Leo. You need me out there to take at least one of them off your hands. I choose Bradmore.”
“I’m beginning to see you are very stubborn.”
“All you have to do to dissuade me is call off the shoot. Even if someone weren’t trying to harm Leo, or you, I don’t know how this can be considered a safe pastime.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” His eyes took on a glow of excitement, and I knew I’d already lost the argument. “A shooting party is carefully orchestrated, my dear,” he said. “With safety as the main concern. Guns are inspected, the men have all been instructed by Tuttle, which by the way, the ladies will have to go through as well. We walk through the fields side by side, send the dogs out to flush the birds, and shoot up at them as they fly away. It’s drilled into us to honor the man beside us, or lady if the case may be. We shoot straight ahead or at least no more than forty-five degrees to either side.” He raised his hands. “And there you have it. It’s actually quite rare anyone is shot.”
“That’s very interesting, and I’m sure all of you will observe every possible precaution, but I am less worried about a stray shot than a deliberate one, aimed at Leo or you.”
He nodded in concession. “That is a problem, I’ll admit, but the probability is low. Should Durant, for instance, take a shot at Leo, everyone would be witness to it.”
“Need I remind you we were all in attendance at the archery match, and no one saw a thing?”
“We don’t have many options, Frances. I sent a letter to the Home Office explaining our situation, but as this seems to be a personal matter, I have no idea if they’d be willing or able to provide their assistance.” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “In any event, I want to take action as soon as possible. I’ll do my best to keep Leo safe.”
“I want you safe too, which is why I’ll keep an eye on Bradmore.”
George raised his hands in surrender just as Tuttle, dressed in muddy boots and tattered hat, stepped up, carrying three guns. “If you’ll be shooting today, my lady, I’ll be giving you some instruction on the rules of the shoot and the handling of the gun.”
“Thank you, Tuttle. I won’t be shooting today, but those ladies will.” I nodded toward Lily and Anne, just a few feet away.
He pushe
d his soft cap aside to scratch his head, exposing a patch of thinning gray hair and a broad expanse of scalp. “You’ll be missing all the fun if you don’t mind my saying.”
I laughed as George made a show of clearing his throat while he threw the older man a glare. “I do plan to join you. I just won’t be shooting.”
He nodded and stepped off to collect Lily and Anne for their instruction. I turned to George. “Apparently, Tuttle has no problem with women joining the shoot.”
“Neither do I, under normal circumstances. Actually, I am surprised you aren’t shooting.”
“I considered it, but feared my skills wouldn’t be up to snuff, and my suspicions might cause me to shoot one of our suspects in the event they made any sudden moves.” I ended with a casual shrug. “As a result, I thought it safer not to carry a gun.”
George shook his head, still frustrated with me, but as he was called away to attend to some other matter, he could offer no further protest.
“Franny!” I turned to find Alonzo at my side, looking quite the sportsman in his hunting gear. “I’m delighted you’ve decided to join us. This has been great fun. I love these country gatherings. Don’t you? I spend almost all my time in the city, so this is quite a treat for me.” He gave me a wink. “I, for one, am delighted Lily changed the venue for her wedding.”
He did look quite delighted. In fact, right now he reminded me a great deal of Leo, unabashedly thrilled to be tromping around in the countryside for a change. Well, Lily had said she hoped to find a man like our father or brother. It seemed that’s just what she found.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Lon. Perhaps you’ll consider extending your stay.”
He sighed. “I don’t think that will be possible. But another visit, and soon, could be in order. By the way, would you like to join Miss Kendrick and me?” He glanced around at the crowd. “Have you seen her?”
I nodded toward the edge of the drive. “Here they come now.”
The gamekeeper had apparently approved Lily and Anne for shooting, and the trio was coming to join our group. Lily was dressed similarly to me, but Anne had surpassed us in style. Unlike the men’s soft caps, her dark hair was topped with a small, very chic wool fedora in a herringbone pattern, which matched her jacket and waistcoat. And instead of a heavy skirt, she wore wool bloomers with gaiters covering her lower legs. Indeed, she looked the perfect advertisement for the sporting countrywoman. I chuckled as Alonzo’s jaw dropped.
A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder Page 21
