by Anne Herries
* * *
‘It was unfortunate that it should rain,’ Jenny remarked to Adam later that afternoon. ‘I think it must have made the proceedings uncomfortable.’
‘Fortunately, it left off by the time we had Mark interred in the family crypt,’ Adam said. ‘I must admit the sound of raindrops against the windows was saddening as we listened to the vicar’s sermon.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Jenny hesitated, then, ‘It may be inappropriate of me to ask—but have you discovered anything of importance yet?’
‘Hallam returned from London just before we left for the church. I believe he has some important news. We have discovered a clue—something that leads us to believe Mark’s death may be the result of a card game he won. It is possible that one of the losers had a grudge against him.’
‘That is quite shocking.’ Jenny’s eyes widened in distress. ‘To take a life in such a cause is wicked—but then, there is never an excusable reason for murder. I am so very sorry.’
‘As you know we are all devastated. I think if Hallam has some clue for us it may help, because we must begin to track down our culprit and find a way to bring him to justice.’
‘That will not be easy,’ Jenny said. ‘For the law to work one must have proof.’ She reached out to take a glass from a footman’s tray and because he jerked it away too soon the wine spilled on to her gown. ‘Oh, how foolish of me...’
‘It was not your fault,’ Adam said to Jenny as the footman apologised.
‘It does not matter. It was an accident. Do not worry, it is an old gown. If you will excuse me, I shall go to the chamber we have been given to refresh ourselves. Please do not scold the man, Adam. Truly, it was my fault.’
She smiled at the unfortunate footman and hurried from the room, running up the stairs. At the top she hesitated, trying to recall if she should go to the left or the right; then, just as she turned to the left she caught sight of a door opening at the far end of the right passage. A man emerged, turning away quickly towards the back stairs. Jenny could not but think that she knew the man, but as he swiftly disappeared from view she did not have long enough to be certain.
Shaking her head, Jenny went swiftly along the passage to the ladies’ rest room. A maid was waiting there to assist with accidents and her dress was quickly sponged and dried as much as possible. She thanked the girl and went back down the stairs. Seeing Adam in conversation with his cousin Hallam, she hesitated, then decided that she ought to speak of what she’d seen.
She approached diffidently, because the men seemed to be talking earnestly. ‘Excuse me, Adam—Mr Ravenscar, but I saw something just now. At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor I hesitated to get my bearings and I saw a man emerge from the bedchamber at the far end of the right passage. I seem to recall that room belongs to Mark...’
‘Good grief!’ Adam stared at her in dismay. ‘We thought he might attempt...but today of all days...’
‘We must investigate at once. Miss Hastings—did you see his face?’
‘No, for he turned immediately towards the back stairs and was round the corner and out of view before I could be certain.’
‘Certain of what?’ Adam’s gaze narrowed. ‘Did you know him?’
‘I thought there was something familiar about his build, but I cannot say. I am not sure...just that I felt I ought to know...’
‘You will excuse us.’ Adam followed Hallam, who was already on his way from the large reception room.
Jenny watched him leave, then decided to follow. The two cousins were already at the top of the stairs when she began to ascend them. She reached the landing and saw them enter the room she’d seen someone leave a short time earlier. Instinctively, she walked quickly along the passage and stopped outside the open door. Glancing in, she saw that everything had been disturbed: drawers were left open, papers tossed out to the floor, cushions everywhere and a chair overturned. Feeling awkward and yet unable to resist, she went into the parlour and then as far as the bedroom door, which had been similarly treated.
Adam turned and saw her. ‘You ought not to have followed. Had he still been here there might have been some danger.’
‘I do not think he would return for he has made a thorough search.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Adam grimaced. ‘Had we waited to search, as we should if my uncle had not arranged for Mark to lie in the chapel, he would undoubtedly have found all that he was looking for.’
‘You removed whatever it was, of course.’
‘I did.’ Adam’s mouth thinned with anger. ‘I shall tell you in confidence, Jenny—and this must not go to another soul...’
‘I swear it on my honour.’
‘We found a valuable item in one of Mark’s drawers as well as some promissory notes. Hallam has discovered that the necklace was stolen with other jewels some weeks ago. Further inquiries have told us that the Bow Street Runners suspect the theft to be one of a series against members of the ton. Whoever lost the necklace in a card game—and we are convinced that Mark obtained it in lieu of gold coin for a gambling debt—must have been involved with the thieves, if not the actual thief himself.’
‘Do you know who your cousin gambled with the night he won it?’
‘We have two names, but there may have been others. Hallam was not in possession of all the facts when he set out for London—but he will return to town tomorrow and speak with at least one of Mark’s debtors. He may be able to cast some light on what happened that night.’
‘If you have a witness to what happened, you may know the name of your thief and that would make him the likely killer,’ Jenny said. ‘You must feel as if you are on the verge of a breakthrough.’
‘Unfortunately, we have no proof that the man who lost this necklace came here to kill Mark,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘It would help if you could recall any detail about the intruder—did you see nothing that might trigger your memory?’
Jenny wrinkled her brow. ‘Forgive me, I should truly like to help you. He was wearing a dark coat and breeches—riding clothes—which was what made me wonder what he was doing here dressed that way.’
‘It is a pity you did not tell us at once,’ Hallam said and frowned. ‘I doubt that he would have lingered once he’d finished his work.’
‘I am sorry. It was only as I thought about it afterwards that I realised I might have seen something important. Forgive me. I should have come instantly to tell you.’
‘How could you know?’ Adam said. ‘Hallam, you must not blame Jenny. She is not at fault here. I should have had a guard set on Mark’s room. I did not imagine that anyone would dare to attempt anything of the sort on a day like this.’
‘It is exactly the right moment. The house is full of people and the servants are busy. We were all distracted and concerned for our guests. He has a twisted kind of courage, Adam.’ Hallam glanced at Jenny. ‘Of course I do not blame you for any of this, Miss Hastings. We should have set a guard on Mark’s room. It was the family’s problem.’ He hesitated then. ‘May I ask you to keep this to yourself?’
‘Yes, of course. I should not dream of mentioning it to anyone,’ Jenny said. ‘Forgive me for intruding. I shall go back down now and leave you together.’
She turned and left them, feeling uncomfortable. Had she been quick enough to report what she’d seen to Adam he might have apprehended the stranger.
It was unfortunate that she had not seen the man’s face, but only his back as he turned away. Yet something had seemed familiar to her—but not quite as it should be. Why could she not place it in her mind? If she knew the man he was probably a gentleman, and perhaps a friend of her uncle’s.
No, that was unlikely. Her uncle did not often mix in the circles Mark Ravenscar must have frequented. There were often slight similarities in people, things that made you think you knew someone when you di
d not.
She would have liked to give the cousins a clue that would lead to the discovery of Mark’s murderer, but she could not and it would be foolish to try to perhaps steer them in the wrong direction.
Adam and Hallam were more than capable of dealing with the mystery themselves and did not need help from her. She must find Lucy. Her friend was in need of comfort and a shoulder to cry on.
* * *
‘So close and yet so far,’ Hallam said as the door closed behind Jenny. ‘Had Miss Hastings come to us at once we might have caught him.’
‘She could not know how important it was,’ Adam said. ‘I feel as you do—but I shall speak to the servants and the grooms. They may have seen a man in riding clothes. Everyone else is wearing formal clothes. I think someone must have noticed him.’
‘It is all we can do,’ Hallam agreed. ‘I wish to God I’d put one of the footman on guard duty.’
‘Had you done so he would have found another way—waited until it was night or come in by the window.’
‘As it is he just walked in and out. How amused he must be at finding it so easy.’
‘Yet he did not get what he wanted,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘We have Mark’s notes and the necklace. You should speak to Staffs. He will recall the game and may know if anyone lost that necklace to Mark that night. We should need a witness. The mere fact that someone lost the necklace in a card game does not make him a thief. He could have been duped into buying it.’
‘In which case he would be unlikely to murder in order to retrieve it,’ Hallam said. ‘If he were not known in society, it would not matter to him—therefore he must be a gentleman. Someone with a reputation to lose.’
‘It all begins to add up—’ Adam said and broke off as Paul walked in dressed in a dark riding coat and pale breeches. ‘Paul, we found this mess—’
‘And you did not think to tell me.’ Paul glared at him. ‘If you imagine I would do something of this kind...’
‘No, of course not. Hallam was with me when Jenny told us of the intruder. We came straight here...’
‘So Miss Hastings knows more than I...’ Paul turned away. ‘I’ve had enough of all this. It is stifling me. I’m going for a ride.’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Adam said. ‘Hallam has discovered something important. That necklace was stolen—’
‘Are you suggesting my brother was a thief?’
‘No, of course not,’ Hallam said. ‘For goodness’ sake, man! No one is accusing Mark of theft or you of murder. Mark must have won it in a card game, as we thought—but the fact that it is stolen makes it more likely that someone might kill Mark to protect himself from discovery.’
‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Paul gave them a brooding look. ‘I wish to God that I knew who it was. At this moment I should need no excuse to break his damned neck with my bare hands.’
‘Paul...please, do not be foolish,’ Adam said. ‘I know how you feel, but—’
‘How can you know?’ Paul demanded. ‘You don’t have people looking at you, wondering how you feel about becoming your father’s heir. Everything was Mark’s and I feel like a thief because I shall now inherit what ought to be his.’
‘Ridiculous,’ Hallam said. ‘Mark was the elder. Now you are—of course everything will come to you in due course.’
‘Even Lucy?’ Paul’s eyes were dark with grief. ‘I’ve seen the way she looks at me—resentful, as if she wishes it was me who died.’
‘I am sure she has no such thoughts,’ Hallam said. ‘You are being a fool, Paul. Lucy is grieving, as we all are.’
Paul shook his head, muttered something and walked away. Hallam looked at Adam and sighed.
‘He’s like a bear with a sore head.’
‘We can hardly blame him. People will wonder and speculate for a while.’
‘I dare say what is upsetting him is Lucy. You know how he feels about her.’
‘He would never have done anything about it. She was always Mark’s future wife.’
‘Yes, but Mark isn’t here now,’ Adam said. ‘Now there is nothing to stop him asking her to marry him—and yet he can’t. To speak now would be like dancing on his brother’s grave. It must be a terrible feeling to see what you desire most in the world within touching distance, but unable to reach out. He must feel she is still forbidden to him.’
‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Hallam looked thoughtful. ‘Poor devil—though...’ He shook his head. ‘Lucy is Paul’s problem. We have more important things to worry about, Adam. If the murderer should turn out to be Fontleroy, we have to discover a way of making him reveal his identity.’
‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ Adam said. ‘That would be difficult, I imagine. With Mark dead there are no witnesses to what happened that day—though if we could prove Fontleroy lost that necklace to Mark in a card game we could threaten him with disclosure. If he thought he might be arrested for theft, he might try to get the evidence from us.’
‘It is a faint hope,’ Hallam said. ‘But first we have to find someone who saw him lose that necklace to Mark—if indeed it was he that lost it.’
‘Do you happen to know where Staffs is staying at the moment? Is he in London or his country home?’
‘It is a wonder he did not come today.’ Hallam frowned. ‘He was one of Mark’s oldest and best friends. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a card from him—is that not strange?’
‘The announcement was in The Times and other papers—and a notice was sent to Mark’s club. I cannot think that he would not have seen it.’ Adam was thoughtful. ‘I believe you should set out for London this evening. If he was a witness...’
‘Then his own life may be in danger,’ Hallam said.
‘And we should also take more care. We have been careless, Hallam. I made the mistake of thinking that the murderer would be running scared—but he may be made of bolder stuff than we imagined. He is certainly ruthless and having murdered once would not hesitate to do so again.’
‘I shall speak to my uncle and leave almost at once. If I do not find Stafford in London, I shall go down to Hampshire, to his country seat—unless I discover he has gone to visit friends.’
‘This grows more dangerous by the minute,’ Adam said and clasped his shoulder. ‘Take care, Hal—I should not like to lose another of my cousins.’
‘I would say the same to you,’ Hallam replied grimly. ‘Be careful when you ride out alone—and keep a loaded pistol with you at all times.’
‘Yes, I intend to, though the search goes on locally,’ Adam replied. ‘I shall wait for your return and in the meantime I shall do my best to restrain Paul from giving way to a fit of despair.’
Chapter Six
‘Where did you go to earlier?’ Lucy asked as they were leaving Ravenscar Court a little later. ‘I looked for you but you had disappeared.’
‘A footman spilled wine on my gown and I had to have it sponged—and then I remembered that I had left my reticule upstairs and went to fetch it.’
‘Oh...’ Lucy frowned. ‘It was odd the way they all left—Adam and Hallam and then Paul. Lord Ravenscar looks so unwell that I felt obliged to sit with him for quite half an hour. I should have liked to tell Paul that his father was not himself, but he had disappeared.’
‘Perhaps he found the proceedings unbearable,’ Jenny suggested. ‘I thought he looked very tense earlier. It must be hard to bear—to lose a brother you love so much.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Lucy said and sighed. ‘People think he will have it all now, but I am sure he does not care for the estate enough—’ She broke off and blushed. ‘Paul has the estate his maternal grandfather left him. Why should he covet what Mark had? I do not think it of him—do you?’
‘Not at all. I believe he is genuine in his distress.’
‘Ye
s. So why...?’ Lucy wrinkled her nose prettily. ‘I hoped he might speak to me, tell me how he feels, but he is avoiding me. Every time I approach he moves away and he will not look at me.’
‘I dare say he is still too upset to think clearly.’
‘It is almost as if he blames me...’
‘No, how could he? No one could blame you, Lucy.’
‘No—and yet Paul does blame me for something.’ Lucy blinked hard. ‘Oh, I do not want to talk about any of it. It is all too horrible. I wish we could go away somewhere. I can hardly bear to be near Ravenscar and know...’ She smothered a sob.
‘You will feel better soon, dearest.’
‘Shall I?’ Lucy looked at her in disbelief. ‘I feel that my whole life is ruined.’
‘You must try, Lucy. In a few days people will stop talking about the tragedy and you will be at peace.’
Lucy shook her head, but they had arrived at Lucy’s home. As they got down, Lady Dawlish emerged from her husband’s carriage and came to meet them.
‘Thank goodness that is all over,’ she said. ‘You may change out of that gown now, Lucy my dear. I shall not ask you to wear black again. Your father and I have discussed what is right and proper and he agrees that pale grey or lilac is sufficient.’
‘Thank you, Mama,’ Lucy said and dabbed at her cheek with a lace kerchief. ‘I wish we might go away. I feel so distressed by all this...’
‘Well, we shall think about it,’ her mama said. ‘Your papa is not certain of what would be right for we should not wish to appear uncaring—but I do not wish to see my darling girl in such despair. We could not go to London and balls will be out of the question for some months, but we might visit Bath, perhaps.’
‘Oh, Mama, if we could I should feel so much better,’ Lucy declared.
‘Well, we shall see in a week or two,’ her mother said and patted her cheek. ‘Now run along in and change, my dears. There is nothing to stop you and Jenny walking or riding as usual—and some music in the house might be pleasant. I am sorely grieved for the family, but I see no point in dwelling on something that cannot be changed. However, you must do as you wish, Lucy—for I would not push you into anything you did not like.’
