by Gloria Cook
‘Can you see it? Th-there in the water?’ A horrified gasp escaped from the heart of him. He pointed to the water’s edge where it was floating, much covered by rushes. ‘It’s a body. It’s the squire. He’s in the pool. He’s been dead all this time.’
Sally followed his hands then screamed shrilly. ‘Oh my God in heaven, it’s horrible!’
Hankins was being paid well to play his part in this and promised a swift promotion. He didn’t understand why the squire’s body couldn’t have been retrieved on the day he’d disappeared, when Mr Nankervis had discovered it down there, but he would never question it, thinking it might be for some legal reason. His masters were like demigods to him and had his total loyalty. He would be well set up for the rest of his life and better still his tormentor would soon be kicked off the estate. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for this horrendous sight. Quivering in shock, fighting down the nausea, he somehow managed to get himself and Sally several feet away. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that. We must hurry inside and raise the alarm.’
Weak on her feet, Sally was using him for support. ‘You’ll have to help me in.’
‘Come on, then.’ He was impatient to get away.
Sally’s horror was joined by another concern. ‘We can’t go in together! I’ll lose my reputation.’
‘No, you won’t, maid. Pick up your feet or we’ll never get there.’ Hankins dragged her along.
‘You mean you’ll tell Mr Fawcett and Mrs Nankervis you had no bad intentions towards me, that we’re proper sweethearts?’
‘Yes, yes, anything. I just want all this to be over.’
Freed from anxiety, Sally was quite satisfied. At least for her the day wasn’t going to prove to be a totally bad one.
Fawcett entered the drawing room on inappropriately quick steps and was unusually flushed. Michael jumped up from his chair, aiming a rapid glance at Kit, who was hovering close to Tara.
‘What is it?’ Tara snapped. Could this lackey get any more disrespectful?
Ignoring her, Fawcett addressed the man who was now his new master. ‘Forgive me, sir. Two of the staff, a footman, Hankins, and a kitchen maid, have just run in from the pool and said they stumbled across a body there. They believe it is the squire and he has drowned.’
‘What?’ Tara brought her hands up to her mouth wide open in horror. ‘But it can’t be. The pool was searched thoroughly. Michael, you supervised the area.’ She appealed to Michael and Kit. ‘How could Joshua have turned up there?’
‘The pool is very deep in some parts, Tara. Have you any more details, Fawcett?’ Michael queried, his voice genuinely shocked, it was a terrible moment. ‘Has my brother’s body, if indeed it is his, been left unattended?’
‘I’ve taken the liberty of dispatching two men to guard the area, sir,’ Fawcett answered in his normal superior tone although he was visibly shaken by the news. ‘I’m afraid Hankins recognized the squire’s clothes, the ones he was wearing the day he disappeared. He believes the squire has been in the water for some time.’
‘I’m so sorry, Tara,’ Kit said, wishing he could offer her comfort in a more intimate manner. ‘Allow me to be the first to offer my condolences. If I may say,’ and Michael’s eager eyes were on him, ‘it seems the squire may have slipped into the pool and got trapped at the bottom somehow, and remained unseen until now after becoming disentangled.’
‘It would seem so. Further examination will tell all the facts.’ Michael rose up and down on his toes, getting himself in control. Both he and Joshua had got what they’d wanted. A few formalities, a scoundrel to dispose of, and all would be well. This is my house, he thought, at last, at last. ‘Well, we must send for the coroner and the vicar, there are arrangements to be made.’
‘But it’s so unfair,’ Tara gasped. ‘Joshua was just getting well again.’
‘Quite so,’ Michael said. ‘Try to stay calm, Tara. It’s been a terrible shock for you. Now where is your companion when you need her? I had better go and speak to the two servants.’
‘I’ll stay with Mrs Nankervis,’ Kit said softly. ‘Fawcett, bring some tea and the brandy in case it’s needed. Order Mrs Nankervis’s bed to be turned down, inform her maid she may be required to wait on her mistress.’
‘You are very kind, but there’s no need, really. I’d rather stay here and wait for Sarah.’ Tara was grateful to be left alone with Kit. The various connotations of Joshua’s death skimmed through her mind. She wasn’t grief-stricken to become a widow but she was dreadfully sorry for Joshua to have met such a terrible end. Pale and stiff, she murmured, ‘I can hardly take it in. I will have to go up and tell Rosa Grace that her father is dead.’
‘I should wait until you have confirmation and the formalities have been completed,’ Kit advised soothingly.
‘Yes, of course. It must be Joshua, it couldn’t be anyone else. He will have to be buried quickly, tomorrow, and with no lying in state in an open coffin.’ She looked up towards the ceiling. ‘Things will be different from now on. Michael and his wife and children will move in. I shouldn’t say this but I won’t be sorry to leave this house for good.’
‘I fully understand, Tara.’
‘Yes, I suppose you do. You know the truth about Joshua, don’t you? He … he wasn’t Rosa Grace’s real father but she is a true Nankervis.’ It was important that Kit was aware of the truth.
‘I guessed as much. You were never really married in the eyes of God. You had no marriage at all.’
‘And you’ve never thought badly of me?’
‘How could I? You have my total admiration, Tara. I could say a lot more but now is not the right time. In a few days—’
‘Laketon Kivell!’ Tara interrupted. ‘What are we to do about him?’
‘I should imagine Michael will think of something. Please don’t worry about a thing, Tara. I am here and I shall stay for as long as you need me. If Michael can’t handle the situation then I shall.’
She gazed at him from encouraged eyes. ‘I thank God that you came to Meryen, Kit.’
Michael bowled back into the room. Once again he looked at Kit for reassurance. ‘I have summoned Laketon Kivell, Tara. It will not be an uplifting occasion but one I think that should be endured.’
Laketon was not pleased to be met by Fawcett and a footman at the house and then ushered into the drawing room without being announced. ‘What’s happened?’ He looked at the stern faces of the men and the disquieted face of the grim woman. ‘Why was I dragged away from the hothouses?’ He was sure he knew the answer.
‘Kivell,’ Michael began, swallowing and unable to keep a wobble out of his voice as the other man’s snakelike eyes bore into him, ‘I am sorry to have to inform you that a short time ago the squire’s body was discovered in the grounds.’
‘Joshua is dead?’ The only emotion Laketon showed was the tightening of one fist. ‘Where was he found?’
‘He was in the pool. It seems he slipped in and he was caught by weeds at the bottom and was drowned.’
‘And suddenly his body became disentangled and floated to the surface,’ Laketon said.
It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or suspicious as his cold eyes darted between the two men before settling on Michael. ‘Who found him?’
‘A footman, who had the audacity to take a kitchen maid there for a dalliance,’ Michael replied, putting on an aggrieved tone. ‘But at least we now know what happened to my poor brother.’
‘Do we? And may I ask the name of this footman?’ Laketon ground out the question, watching …
‘That is hardly relevant.’ Michael considered he was about to play his trump card, by the suggestion of Kit, but first he presented an expression of mild distaste. ‘But as you had a … special friendship with the late squire I am prepared to fill you in on the facts. The footman is called Hankins. The appropriate authorities are being informed.’
‘And …?’ Laketon uttered without civility.
‘And what, Kivell?’ Mi
chael replied impatiently. He was scared of the gardener but he had to appear as a disdainful gentleman, indeed as the new squire. ‘You should be grateful for this special dispensation to be brought here like this, and that I have deigned to lower myself to acknowledge your illegal association with my brother.’
‘Is there not anything else you wish to say to me?’
‘Y-yes.’ Michael damned himself for faltering. ‘I shall probably be considering changes in due course. I shall inform you of how it might affect your position in a few days.’
Laketon narrowed his eyes to slits but he could see those in the room clearly enough. He curled his lips in contempt. These self-righteous so-called superiors were no better than him. Two had an illegitimate child together and the other had condemned himself as a disturbed liar with his own mouth. They were probably expecting him to turn nasty but he would keep them guessing as to what he would do next. They were all on guard against him, and all except the doubly wary Kit Woodburne were nervous of him. He bowed his head. ‘I thank you for your kind consideration, sir. I am deeply saddened over Joshua’s death and if I may now be allowed to take my leave I’d like to grieve in private. May I see him?’
‘I’m afraid that in the circumstances it is out of the question due to— Please,’ Michael glanced at Tara, ‘I do not want to cause further distress to Mrs Nankervis.’
‘I understand.’ Bowing again, Laketon took two steps backwards, turned slowly with his head down and left the room.
‘Follow me,’ Fawcett intoned at his coldest.
Laketon hurled imaginary knives at the butler’s stiff back as he was placed centrally in a line with the footman taking up the rear. He was seen out of a small corridor portal.
Rather than return to the hothouses he went round to the front of the house and concealed himself among the shrubbery. So, the time had come for him to leave. The new squire was gloating that he would soon be throwing him out, although he was scared to do so alone, the witless bookworm had got Kit Woodburne to help him; that was obvious. What were they thinking now? Laketon chuckled to himself. In the long lonely days since Joshua’s disappearance he had gone through burning rages, near hysteria and a good deal of brandy and wine. Then he had allowed his calculating mind to become as clear as crystal and had put it to work. Why did he care what had happened to Joshua? He didn’t love him any more. Joshua had become weak and nervous and a fool. He had not had the capacity or the courage to dupe anyone, to hide away, to go off and start a new life.
The more he had thought about it the more he had become convinced that Joshua was dead. So the news just imparted to him was no surprise. His death was obviously contrived. Joshua had been wilfully murdered and by none other than his brother. Michael Nankervis didn’t fool him. His belated brotherly concern for Joshua was a sham. It was not a coincidence that Joshua had disappeared on his first occasion out of the house with Michael, who rarely ventured into the grounds. Michael loved the strange old house and wasn’t brought down by its grim atmosphere. He had acquired a pliable wife and no doubt wanted a son and heir, and with Joshua, and Laketon’s own grip, removed, then what better than a son who would be heir to Poltraze? Somehow Michael had worked up the guts to drown Joshua in the pool, probably after clubbing him about the head first. Then he had weighted the body down so he would not be discovered until the incriminating wounds on the waterlogged corpse were indistinguishable. No doubt he had kept the search party away from the murder scene. Some time afterward he had made sure the corpse had risen to the surface, just waiting to be discovered. Michael had triumphed. Joshua was an embarrassment to the gentry and no one would pick over his death for long. Michael had everything he’d ever wanted. It was on the cards that Joshua’s sickly sweet widow would soon be married to Woodburne and he would have no more responsibility towards her.
Laketon smiled a smile that if seen by another would freeze the blood in their body. Yes, Michael had everything, but not for long. No, it wasn’t time for him to leave Poltraze. He was going to kill Michael Nankervis and then he would be the one reigning supreme. With all the others out of the way, Adeline Nankervis would be easy to approach and control. She would have the safety of two stepchildren and perhaps an expected brat of her own to worry about. She would be made to break with the Woodburnes and even her parents in Truro. Poltraze would be all his.
Now he had the pleasure of deciding how to kill Michael Nankervis. Drowning? No, he had taken the life of the elder Nankervis brother, Jeffrey, as a youth, for mocking him that way, and Joshua had met a similar watery end. Poison? No, he’d murdered Michael’s vile first wife with poison, for threatening to blackmail him and Joshua for being lovers. In the flames of a fire? No, he had burned the obnoxious old squire and his scheming second wife, Tara’s aunt, for getting in his way. Since Joshua’s disappearance he had carried a small pistol inside his coat in case there was an attempt to oust him physically from the estate, and he always kept a sharp gardener’s knife about him. Shoot him, stab him or slash his throat? Any of those options would do. He would make it look as if the new squire had been robbed and killed by a footpad.
He heard hoof beats. He watched as Sarah Kivell-cum-Hichens was helped to dismount by the groom. As the groom led the ponies away and she dashed up the front steps they turned and looked at each other. Ah, his uncle’s little bitch had found romance again. He came out of his hiding place.
Hearing the bushes rustle, Sarah headed back down the steps and peered about. She got the creepy feeling she was being watched. ‘Who’s there?’
Moments later she was in the drawing room, having refused to take off her outdoor clothes.
Tara rushed to her. ‘Sarah, have you heard the terrible news?’
‘I’ve heard nothing …’ Sarah gasped.
‘Then what is it? You’re as white as a sheet and you look as if you’ve just seen a ghost.’
‘It was worse than that.’ Sarah shuddered. ‘I’ve just seen Laketon Kivell and he was staring at me as if he wanted to kill me, then he smiled. I’ve never seen such a smile. It was a thousand times worse than the way he looks at you. He seemed insane.’
Twenty
The funeral was over quickly, a necessary decision in view of the foulness of the squire’s body, which the double-lined coffin did not entirely keep in. Sarah stood beside Kit at the graveside and with them was Tempest. It was the first time a Kivell had turned out for a Nankervis. To everyone’s relief there was no sign of Laketon; he had not been back to the house to enquire about the funeral arrangements. It still did not prevent a feeling of unease that he might suddenly appear and unleash a dreadful surprise.
Such a lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Sarah reflected as the mourners filed out of the churchyard. She had found romance and passion with John. She could so easily have made love with him. It was inevitable it would happen the next time they were alone. She was certain John would be caring and masterful and that she would know what tenderness and the sublimity of lovemaking should be like. With the squire dead she and Tara were truly free of Poltraze. After a week of mourning, Tara planned to up sticks and take long-term residence at the Nankervis town house in Truro. Michael had agreed it was better she move away from the estate rather than switch residences with him to Wellspring House, as would be expected. He’d said that when he and Adeline wanted to stay in Truro they would avail themselves of Adeline’s family home.
How would this affect her new relationship with John? What did she want for the future? It was too soon to speak of love. The lower position of a groom’s wife was not an issue, but only if she fell deeply in love would she ever consider marriage again. If John got a permanent position at Truro she could carry out an affair with him, but the fact that she was in an association with a servant would embarrass Tara. As wonderful as their first kisses had been it was probably better that John stayed at Poltraze and she forgot him.
She had a greater quandary – Amy’s letter. Dear Sarah … hope that by the time you r
eceive this you are fully recovered from the dreadful attack … pleased Tara has been supporting you. Sol and I and the children, and my mother and sister Hope, really enjoy the wildness and beauty and the challenges of the new life we are starting here. Sarah, we would so like to have you join us. It could be the very thing you need, a fresh start in a new country. We have enclosed the fare for your passage … send word and Sol will come to meet you off the ship.
The invitation had been a welcome distraction after the grim discovery of the squire’s body and the fright she’d had from Laketon Kivell. Now she had two different futures to make up her mind about, Truro with Tara or California with Amy, possibly three futures if she included John after all. Each one held a different appeal. Whatever she did she wouldn’t make a quick decision.
The moment she was outside the lychgate and descending the granite steps to the road, Sarah noticed Miriam Greep beckoning to her, clearly anxious. ‘What is it? Is Jeb ill or one of the children?’
‘We’re all fine. It’s David, he’s taken his few things and run off. I’ve just tried to talk to John, the groom, but the coachman wouldn’t let me get near the carriages. David listened to him yesterday. I’m hoping he might have an idea where he could have gone.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll talk to John,’ Sarah promised. ‘If we can get away we’ll go looking for David.’
John was quieting the horses of Tara and Michael’s coach. A striking sight in his livery, he was drawing admiring looks from the village girls. Sarah pressed her way through the retreating gentry to reach his side. She caught his eye and mouthed, ‘David’s run away.’
‘No he hasn’t,’ he mouthed back, then kept his eyes forward.
Back at the house Sarah was determined to fade into the background, suggesting she take Rosa Grace up to the nursery and keep her company for a while. When the nanny announced it was time the little girl took a nap after her dreadful day, Sarah crept outside to the stable yard. John’s response to her statement outside the church could only mean that he knew where David Kent was. David had grown to trust him. It fitted that if he planned to run away he would go to John.
