‘I know you have a lot on your plate old chap, so I will not take offence, but if you wish to eliminate me from your list of suspects, just ask Lord Jack Wyndholme. I must assume that the same person who took a pot shot at you is the same person who murdered your brother. I cannot readily account for my movements the night you were shot at, but I can account for my movements at the Assembly Rooms. As I seem to recall, Winstanley was present for the announcement of your betrothal so he was still alive then. After the announcement, I returned to the card room with Lord Wyndholme and I was there for the rest of the evening. So you see I have the perfect alibi.’
Harry could not argue with that and thanked him. ‘I apologise for my suspicions but the pin did seem to implicate you. I had to address the issue.’
Lord Dereham was pragmatic. ‘No apologies needed. Under such circumstances, I would have done the same. But if you do find out who it is let me know. I now have a grudge of my own to settle. The damn fellow seems to have set me up to take the blame.’
The two left the study in comparative ease with each other. Lord Dereham was a reasonable and tolerant fellow and had not been unduly antagonised by the confrontation. Harry had eliminated a suspect but he was not much further forward.
Lord Jack Wyndholme having confirmed Lord Dereham’s account was among the last to leave the funeral wake. Harry kept Sebastian back in order to ask him about Sophie.
‘Am I safe to come to Chalcotte Grange or is Sophie still on the war path,’ he asked cautiously.
Sebastian grinned. ‘She is not on the war path exactly. She is moping about like a thwarted puppy that has just been told off for chewing a slipper. She is so obviously regretting her impetuosity but I would let her stew a little longer, Harry. That way you will be assured of a more welcome reception.’
Harry was somewhat relieved and reached into his pocket and drew out a package. ‘Can you ensure that she gets this? It is the Trevarren Emerald Brooch so take care of it. At least it will assure her of my fidelity and hopefully, persuade her to forgive me.’
Sebastian pocketed the brooch. ‘Sophie told me about the contents. Uncle William, her father was a bit of a sly old fox. I might have guessed that he had not lost everything but I have told Sophie not to expect a fortune. There was obviously not enough to help him reverse his fortunes.’
Harry frowned. ‘Sophie seems to think that Lord Trevarren will have left enough to ensure Daniel a sizeable inheritance.’
Sebastian laughed out loud. ‘As to that, I very much doubt it. If he had secreted that much away, he may have been able to re-establish himself abroad away from his creditors. He did not go into decline without reason. Uncle William loved his family dearly and he had a special fondness for Sophie. He always called her his beautiful girl, but there is no denying that when it came to the card tables, he could not help himself.’
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. ‘Sebastian, I need to tell you something. My brother did cheat in that card game. I am heartily ashamed of it and if I could go back and alter things I would. I am sorry and I will do my best to make amends.’
Sebastian looked surprised but he knew his friend well enough to realise that he was genuine and did not approve of his brother. ‘I am sorry, Harry. My mother never believed it and always said that Sophie had a bee in her bonnet about nothing. When my father wrote to me about it I did not put much store in Sophie’s story myself. She was deeply attached to her father and hung on his every word. If I had believed it I would have called out Winstanley myself as soon as I returned home, but I cannot blame you for the sins of your brother. I know you will do what you think is right.’
Sebastian patted is friend reassuringly on the shoulder and took his leave. Harry watched after him. In Sebastian, he knew he had a friend and at least someone he could trust.
Chapter Fourteen
Taking notice of Sebastian’s advice, Harry did not visit Chalcotte Grange for a few days. He was sorely tempted but harnessing all his self-control he refrained hoping that the brooch would be enough to reassure Sophie of his constancy and calm her reckless spirit. He examined the papers daily and to his relief found that the Wyndholme’s had not yet retracted the betrothal. He was sure that Sebastian or the Baron would warn him of such an event but he looked anyway just to assure himself. His only other contact with the Wyndholme’s was Daniel who rode over on his colt to see him every morning and Harry gave him a fencing lesson.
Daniel still regarded Harry as his perfect idol, a man who could do no wrong and scolded Sophie daily for her idiotic stubbornness. ‘Do not worry, Colonel. I can tell that Sophie is already regretting her outburst. She sends her sincere thanks for the brooch, but I would wait for another couple of days before you come to visit. By then she will be only too glad to see you.’
That had been Sebastian’s recommendation as well and Harry smiled at Daniel’s artless advice. He may have been young, but there was wisdom in his words. ‘I shall heed your counsel, Daniel, and I will rely on you to tip me a wink when you feel that the coast is clear.’
‘That I will gladly do, Colonel,’ Daniel replied as he prepared to take his fencing lesson. Harry was happy to indulge the boy because he liked him but he had to cut the lesson short because he had so much to do. ‘You must forgive me, Daniel,’ he said, but I have places to be and things to do.’
Daniel’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘Are you trying to find out who murdered the Earl? Oh, please let me help you, Colonel. Is there anything I can do?’
Harry looked at Daniel’s eager, enthusiastic face and was almost sorry to disappoint him. ‘No, Daniel,’ he said. ‘It is just too dangerous and you are too young to be involved in such an affair. The best thing you could do to help me is to use your persuasive powers on Sophie.’ Daniel looked disappointed but did not argue and collected his things together ready for home.
The lesson over, Harry accompanied Daniel to the stables to collect Zephyrus and waved him off. Sighing he turned back to the house. He was longing to see Sophie but the young cub was right, another couple of days would not hurt.
Harry would have been comforted had he realised what Sophie was thinking at this precise moment. She was out riding on her uncle’s hunter, Excalibur, and from a distance was staring across at Winstanley Hall. Sebastian had given her the brooch with its accompanying message and she realised that she had been premature in her condemnation of Harry. Should she go to the Hall and thank him and apologise in person? She hesitated. She knew that Daniel had been to see Harry every day. Her young brother was annoyed with her for calling off the wedding, and in an attempt at reverse psychology, he had told her that Harry was far too busy investigating the Earl’s murder to waste his time on her.
She stared down at the Hall then turned Excalibur in the opposite direction cursing under her breath. ‘Well if that is the case,’ she muttered to herself. ‘There is nothing left to be said.’ In her chagrin, she coaxed the hunter into a gallop in an effort to clear her cluttered head.
Harry occupied his time investigating the scene of his brother’s murder and interviewing prime suspects. He had considered sending to London to employ the Bow Street Runners but not wanting to expose his brother, he decided against it. One thing was certain, he had no faith in the local constable who seemed to be at point none plus. The community employed such ones to keep some semblance of law and order, but as for efficiency and structure they were not always effective in detecting and preventing crime.
Harry often thought that England should adopt a proper police force like the one that had recently been introduced in France but anything French in this current climate was definitely unpopular and there was currently an anti-police sentiment in England. Harry, however, did not agree. The Thames river police established by Patrick Colquhoun had already proved to be efficient down at the London docks and to expand this enterprise could only be a benefit to the country in general. He sighed. The local constables were on his side but his main reliance must be upon himself.
He took out the list of suspects he had written down on the evening of his brother’s death. He would investigate each one of them and establish their movements on the night his brother was murdered. He could at least check to see which of them had alibis. Running a long shapely finger down the list, he rested on a name. He would begin by paying Mr Fairbanks a visit. On checking Rupert’s accounts after his death, he confirmed that he had not made the recompense that he had promised and wondered if his brother had ever had the intention of doing so. Mr Fairbanks, therefore, still had a considerable motive.
Having made the decision, Harry sent out instructions to have Julius saddled and went to change into his riding jacket. On his way to the stables, he bumped into Sebastian who had just come to see him. Harry confided in Sebastian and on informing him of the nature of his proposed visit to Mr Fairbanks, Sebastian offered to accompany him.
As they rode side by side Harry enquired of Sophie. Sebastian grinned. ‘She is the epitome of misery, old chap. That is what I have come to tell you. I think she may be ready to forgive you so it will be quite safe for you to put your foot over the threshold of Chalcotte Grange once more.’
They carried on their conversation in very much the same vein until they reached the home of Mr Fairbanks. Mr Fairbanks lived in Newcastle on Sandgate down by the river. They dismounted, secured their horses and rapped on the large knocker. The door was opened by Miss Fairbanks and she ushered them into the drawing room. Her father was sitting at a sturdy oak desk examining a sheet of architectural plans through thick glasses and a huge magnifying glass. He looked up as they entered and on identifying his unwelcome visitors greeted them sharply. ‘What do you want? If you have come to extort more money you will be sadly disappointed.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘Whatever possessed you to invite them in?’
Harry stepped forward. ‘Do not blame Miss Fairbanks, sir. I have not come to extort anything. To the contrary, I have been examining my brother’s ledgers and note that there may be some administrative error in his dealings with you. The interest rate seems rather high and I have come to remedy the matter.’
Mr Fairbanks relaxed a little. ‘I am glad you see it that way. Your late brother did not seem to think so. I was to take him to court but it would appear that the documents are in order. He rose from his chair and walked over to the sideboard. ‘Can I offer you a drink, gentlemen?’
Harry and Sebastian accepted and sat down to discuss the matter.
‘The way I see it, you have overpaid,’ Harry said. He handed him a bank draft. ‘I think this should cover it and of course, I have cancelled the huge interest charges that have accrued. I can only ask you to accept my apologies for the error.’
Mr Fairbanks looked rather relieved and pocketed the draft. ‘I thank you for your honesty. I think if your brother had been a little more honest he would still be alive today.’
Harry saw this comment as the perfect opening for making his enquiries. ‘Indeed. You were at the Assembly Rooms the night my brother died. Did you hear or see anything suspicious?’
Mr Fairbanks shook his head. ‘I heard nothing and as far as seeing anything is concerned, well my eyesight is not so good. I am sorry but I cannot help you. Your brother was not popular, Colonel Northcote. Anyone could have killed him.’
‘Even you, Mr Fairbanks,’ replied Sebastian with amiable good humour.
Sebastian’s tone was far too playful for Mr Fairbanks to take offence and he just looked at him indulgently. ‘Have you seen my glasses, Sir Wyndholme? I could not see to shoot an elephant at ten yards. You see, I am slowly going blind and I wonder how much longer I will be able to continue in my profession. I rely on my daughter and partner a little more each day to help me. I have taught my daughter who helps me with my architectural plans and my partner is the chief overseer on site.’
Harry frowned. ‘I did not realise you worked with a partner, Mr Fairbanks. Where was he on Saturday night?’
Mr Fairbanks laughed. ‘Oh, you cannot point a finger at him. He is visiting his sister in Ireland and has been there for this last two weeks. As for me, I do not dance and I cannot see to gamble and dice so I satisfied myself with the company of Lord and Lady Astley all night. I am sure they will vouch for me.’
Harry stood up and shook his hand. ‘I thank you for your openness, Mr Fairbanks. I hope that we can put this unpleasant affair behind us and be friends.’
He shook his hand. ‘I am most satisfied, Colonel Northcote or should I now call you Winstanley? I also thank you for your honesty and I wish you well in the hunt for your brother’s murderer.’
Harry and Sebastian left and mounted their horses. Sebastian glanced at Harry as they weaved their way up Sidegate. ‘You know, with eyesight like that, he cannot possibly have done it. I think you can eliminate him as a suspect.’
‘I know.’ Harry replied sighing. ‘Another one down, but who shall I investigate next.’
*****
Unknown to Harry and Sebastian, Sophie was having a confrontation of her own and decidedly more dangerous. After leaving the vicinity of Winstanley Hall, she made her way to the Newcastle Town Moor, a large open space which dated back to the twelfth century. It was late morning and the Moor was eerily quiet and she had ventured much further than was her custom, or indeed that she was allowed. Her Aunt would have been horrified had she known. It was at the Town Moor that she accidently bumped into Mr Featherstone.
Mr Featherstone was tall with short brown hair and approximately 30 years of age. He had a deceptively pleasant face and was considered by many to be handsome, but Sophie knew him to be a participant in the card game that had destroyed her father. She also knew him to be as guilty as the Earl so she had no love for him.
Mr Featherstone, who took pride in his obvious good looks, stopped his grey stallion and tipped his hat with graceful aplomb. He smiled revealing a perfect set of teeth. ‘Lady Trevarren. How nice to meet you. A pleasant day for riding, but I am surprised to see you on the Town Moor alone.’
Sophie pulled on Excalibur’s reigns in an effort to bring the restless animal under control. She wanted to cut the self-assured Mr Featherstone with a curt nod, but her desire to give him a piece of her mind won the day. ‘I wish I could say the same but you are a scoundrel and a cheat, sir. Do not think that I am not aware of your involvement in the death of my father! I am surprised that you even have the gall to speak to me.’
Mr Featherstone smiled unconcernedly. ‘You are mistaken, dear, but it hardly matters as you could not prove it, and I always have the gall to speak to a pretty wench.’
She ignored his impertinence. ‘Never-the-less, we both know it,’ she retorted pulling on the hunter’s right reign to turn away. Mr Featherstone leant forward and caught the bridle, pulling the Hunter to a halt. ‘My, you are a feisty wench, riding on the Moor on your own and pointing an accusing finger at virile gentlemen. I am surprised your Uncle allows it.’
Sophie was beginning to think that she had made a mistake in confronting this man. She should have ridden away when she had the chance. Why did she always fall victim to her own impetuosity? A horrendous thought just occurred to her. For all she knew, Mr Featherstone could be the Earl’s murderer and quite capable of murdering her. She kept her calm.
‘My mind wandered. I do not normally come this far out of my way. Let go of my bridle at once, sir. I insist.’
Mr Featherstone, with one hand still grasped on her rein dismounted, and reaching up, he grabbed her from the saddle. Sophie fell in an unceremonious heap into his arms and struggled, pushing her hands against his chest to free herself. Mr Featherstone was surprisingly strong and he held her there until she stopped struggling. Calming herself she looked up into his laughing face and scowled. ‘Unhand me, sir or my cousin shall hear of this.’
‘Ah my dear, I am all a quiver. Let me show you what happens to females who wander onto the Moor unchaperoned.’ He bent down and kissed her fiercely on the mouth and continued to punish her with his
strong caress. She was pinned to him and could hardly move and then she felt his errant hands wander over her body. Sophie took the opportunity of comparative freedom to break away stamping vigorously on his foot and ran to her saddlebag. Mr Featherstone made a reach for her but he was a second too late. Sophie stood levelling her father’s pistol at him.
‘One step further and I will shoot,’ she cried out. ‘This is my father’s pistol. It would be ironic justice if I had to shoot you with it. Stand back, sir.’
Calling her bluff, he stepped forward until he saw her finger twitch on the trigger and then raised his hands and retreated a few steps. He had not expected a female to be carrying a pistol and certainly not one so feisty. He was more used to the simpering misses that surrounded his court and vied for his attention. They were much easier game.
He tipped his hat. ‘I concede my fair Amazon. And tell your cousin I shall expect his challenge.’
Sophie hissed. ‘Do not expect it for I shall not tell him. You are not even fit to lick Sir Wyndholme’s boots.’
Mr Featherstone mounted his stallion still under the cover of Sophie’s pistol. He nodded. Her comment had angered him and he had a mind to get his own back. ‘I have a mind to finish what I started,’ he threatened. He politely raised his curly beaver hat. ‘Until we meet again, lady Trevarren. Au Revoir.’
She watched him until he was safely at a distance before she remounted. Keeping her pistol closely tucked under her cloak, she made her way home, convinced that Mr Featherstone was the Earl’s murderer. The man was a demon and she must tell Harry straight away.
*****
Instead of going straight home, Sophie made her way to Winstanley Hall. She arrived just as Harry was leading Julius to the stables. Harry beamed with delight when he saw her and held out his arms. ‘Sophie,’ he beamed. ‘You have forgiven me.’
Lady Trevarren and the Emerald Brooch: A Regency Romance and Murder Mystery Page 16
