Death Comes to Kurland Hall

by Catherine Lloyd

  “And I will consider your proposal very carefully, Major Kurland.” Miss Harrington curtsied and addressed her next remark to Thomas. “Will you both excuse me? I don’t wish to oversleep and be out of sorts for the funeral.”

  “Of course, Miss Harrington.”

  She walked out, leaving Robert in the uncomfortable silence. He forced himself to meet Thomas’s gaze. “If you wish to call me out over this . . .”

  “I would never do that. I owe you far too much to shoot you, and to be fair, I wasn’t sure if you were honest with me about your feelings for Miss Harrington.” His smile was rueful. “I suspect that might be why I’ve been reluctant to press my suit all along.”

  “That is very generous of you.”

  Thomas bowed. “I wish you both a very happy life.”

  “If I can persuade her that I mean it.”

  “I’m sure you will, Major. You are a master at getting your own way.”

  “And we can still remain friends?” Robert searched the other man’s face.

  “I hope so. I suspect I will be in need of your counsel in the years to come.” Thomas came around the desk and shook Robert’s hand. “Good night, Major. Please do not worry on my account. The laws of attraction and the arrows of Cupid can fall in the most unexpected of places.”

  Robert left the study and made his slow way up the stairs; his hip ached with every step. He turned into the corridor that housed the guest bedrooms and caught a hint of lavender soap.

  “Major Kurland!”

  The whisper came from the velvet curtains that shrouded the large windows looking over the park. He stepped into the shadow and found Miss Harrington with her back to the moonlight filtering through the glass panes.

  “Major Kurland, what on earth were you thinking? All you had to do was say we met in the library and that I was helping you up the stairs when you stumbled! Why did you have to pretend you asked me to marry you, and then kiss me?”

  Robert brought his hand to rest on the wall beside her. “Because I wanted to.”

  Bending his head, he kissed her again until she stopped spluttering and kissed him back. Eventually, he raised his head and met her gaze.

  “You will marry me.”

  “I haven’t decided what I—”

  He kissed her again, and this time her hand curved around the back of his neck, keeping him close.

  “You will marry me, Lucy Harrington. We will discuss the details after the funeral. I will ask your father for your hand when we return to Kurland St. Mary.” He eased away from her, and in a second, she picked up her skirts and ran in the direction of her room.

  Robert waited until she reached her door before going into his own room. The rightness of his decision settled over him, and he permitted himself a victorious grin.

  Miss Harrington would marry him. He would not allow her to escape him again.

  Chapter 21

  The funeral proved mercifully short and was attended only by the staff and guests of Fairfax Park. Young Robin Fairfax stood manfully beside his half brother and seemed to take some comfort in his presence. Lucy struggled to concentrate on the service, when all her thoughts were concerned with the remarkable events of the previous night.

  To her consternation, word had spread throughout the household, and she’d had to endure both Penelope’s amusement and a lecture from Mrs. Green about her morals. She’d also been informed that Mrs. Green would be writing to her father, so it seemed there was no way out from her dilemma.

  And did she seek a way out? After Major Kurland’s masterful kisses, she wasn’t quite sure what to think anymore....

  As the vicar concluded his final remarks, Lucy remembered to look up the Deuteronomy reference in her Bible and placed a bookmark in the correct page so that she could read it after the funeral. The coffin was carried out, and the congregation followed. Mrs. Williams took her charge back to the nursery, and the women went to the house, while the men attended the graveyard.

  A light drizzle began to fall, and Lucy was glad to step into the warmth of the hall. She went up the stairs to take off her bonnet and outdoor boots, only to find Penelope waiting at her bedroom door.

  “Is something the matter?” Lucy tried to look unhelpful, but Penelope was not deterred and went in the room with her.

  “Now that Mrs. Fairfax is safely buried, I wanted to ask whether you had reached any further conclusions about who killed my mother.”

  Lucy sat down to remove her boots. “We think that Mrs. Fairfax killed her because your mother knew she hadn’t been honest about her family history.”

  Penelope’s eyebrows rose. “You are suggesting my mother died over a matter of class?”

  “It is also possible that Mrs. Fairfax had concealed a previous marriage.” Lucy didn’t want to expand on that until she and Major Kurland decided what to do about Mr.

  Reading’s claims about the child. “I doubt she meant to kill your mother. She said in her note that it was an accident.” Lucy’s voice trailed off as she considered the letter Mrs. Fairfax had left behind her.

  “Dorothea believed it was an accident, as well.”

  “Then why did she tell Major Kurland that she had evidence of a crime?”

  Penelope shrugged. “She was afraid.”

  “Of what? For goodness’ sake, you might as well tell me the truth now. As you said, Mrs. Fairfax can hardly care.”

  “Dorothea saw them arguing, and then Mrs. Fairfax shoved our mother rather hard. I don’t think either of them had noticed they were at the top of a staircase. Mrs. Fairfax ran one way, and Dorothea ran the other. She glanced down the stairwell before she left and saw our mother lying quite still.” Penelope sighed. “The silly goose also thought she saw someone else down there with her, and that’s why she was afraid.”

  “Someone else at the bottom of the stairs?” Lucy thought back to Dr. Fletcher’s comments that Mrs. Chingford’s neck could have been broken in the fall or that someone might have strangled her. “How odd.”

  “As you said. Not that it matters anymore.” Penelope stood up. “I’m glad that I know what happened to my mother. I did not like her, but she deserves to rest in peace. I suppose Mrs. Fairfax paid her own price for her crime.”

  “I suppose she did.”

  Deep in thought, Lucy barely managed to register Penelope’s withdrawal. Major Kurland had mentioned seeing someone leaving from the lower level at the wedding.... Was it possible that both he and Dorothea had seen the same person? A person who might have strangled Mrs. Chingford to ensure that she didn’t survive her fall?

  “But why?” Lucy whispered.

  She glanced down at her Bible, which had fallen open at the page she had marked earlier, and began to read aloud.

  “If a man have two wives, one beloved, and another hated, and they have born him children, both the beloved and the hated; and if the firstborn son be hers that was hated: Then it shall be, when he maketh his sons to inherit that which he hath, that he may not make the son of the beloved firstborn before the son of the hated, which is indeed the firstborn.”

  Lucy rose to her feet. She had to go back down and be polite to the vicar and socialize with the other guests. After that, she would wait until the house was quiet and go and search the attics for a locked door. She suspected that would be the only way to establish the truth for her sake, for the Chingford sisters, and most importantly, for poor Thomas Fairfax.

  “I am coming with you.”

  Lucy stared at Major Kurland. “You are incapable of being quiet.”

  His brows drew together. “You are not going alone. I will bring my pistol and protect you.”

  “From a woman who has been locked up and who probably will be delighted to be free?”

  “I am still coming.”

  Lucy sighed. “Then meet me on the top floor, beside the servants’ stairs, at midnight.”

  “You believe Madge Summers is locked up here, don’t you?”

  “Who else can it be?”
<
br />   “But why would Thomas condone that?”

  “Perhaps he knows what Madge believes and doesn’t want her telling all the guests about his half brother’s potential illegitimacy.”

  “One might think he would want that information to be as public as possible so that he could stake his claim on the estate.”

  “You forget, he is illegitimate himself, Major. Mayhap he wishes to treat the matter in a more private and sympathetic manner.”

  “That might be true.” Major Kurland looked impatiently around the room. Miss Stanford was standing with Mrs. Green and doing her best to ignore him; Miss Chingford was expending all her energies on consoling Thomas, which was to be expected now that he was back on the marriage mart. “I do wish we could just confront him with our evidence rather than skulk around in this underhand manner.”

  “If the lady in the attic isn’t Madge Summers, you have my full permission to approach Mr. Fairfax in whatever manner you like,” Lucy said firmly.

  “Yes, Miss Harrington.” He bowed and moved away from her. “I will most certainly do that.”

  After the funeral breakfast, Robert took the opportunity to rest his leg and have a long nap, which made the prospect of tiptoeing round the house at midnight slightly less daunting. He was worried that his damned knee would let him down again, but he wasn’t prepared to let Miss Harrington face the “captive” in the attics alone. The fact that she’d accepted his decree meant that she was probably more aware of the danger than she had admitted.

  He put his black funeral garb back on, had a subdued dinner with the other guests, where vague decisions were made as to when the party intended to leave, and was now waiting impatiently in his room for the house to settle down. His fingers twitched, and he wished he could smoke one of his cigarillos, but he didn’t want the smoke to linger on his clothes while he hid with Miss Harrington.

  “Hide-and-seek is a children’s game,” he muttered to himself as he made sure his pistol was primed and ready for use before carefully placing it in his coat pocket. “Let’s hope it remains that way.”

  Eventually, it was time to make his way up to the attics and find Miss Harrington. He took his time, avoiding the main staircase and the odd scurrying maid, and slowly gained the top floor. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the low-beamed interior, with its sloping roof. There were three doors on either side of the corridor and one at the end.

  A hand touched his sleeve, and he almost jumped until he realized it was Miss Harrington, intent on pulling him into one of the rooms. It proved to be a small bedroom bereft of any adornment other than a small bed, a rolled-up straw mattress, and a lumpy pillow.

  “We can wait in here,” Miss Harrington whispered close to his ear. “From what I’ve seen, one of the servants usually checks on her around midnight.”

  Robert took out his pocket watch and squinted at the hands. “Fairly soon, then. What is your plan for getting into the room if it is locked?”

  “I’m sure we can think of something.”

  “I’m sure we can.”

  Silence fell as they both listened to the murmurings of the house as it settled down below them and the wind whistling through the trees in the park.

  “Did you intend to marry Thomas?”

  “I certainly thought about it.”

  Robert frowned into the darkness and tried to sound fair. “He would make any woman an excellent husband.”

  “Indeed he would.”

  He let another minute slip by, but she said nothing more. “Do you regret my presence here, then?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you were thinking about marrying Thomas Fairfax. You came here to see if this place suited you.”

  “That wasn’t the only reason I came here.”

  There was a hint of amusement in her voice, which made him wary. “I assumed the other reason was to get away from me.”

  “It might surprise you to learn that I didn’t think of you at all. I was anxious to discover what had happened to Mrs. Fairfax, and I reasoned that the best way to understand her was to visit her home.”

  “Ah.” He reached for her hand and found it waiting for him. “I should have known that finding the answer to a puzzle was far more interesting than worrying about the deficiencies of men.”

  She sighed. “I did worry, but I was determined to discover whether Mrs. Fairfax murdered Mrs. Chingford. At least I know that, although it seems wrong that your meddling cousin gets to walk away from a tragedy.”

  “It’s not the first time he’s done that. I live in hope that one day his mistakes will catch up with him. Rest assured that I have made it clear that when retribution strikes, I have no intention of lifting a finger to save him.”

  “Good. He doesn’t deserve it, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to inherit your estate.”

  “Another good reason for marrying me, Miss Harrington. We can produce a bushel of brats to keep the land and title in our branch of the family forever.”

  “Major Kurland, you cannot describe your future children as brats. . . .” She stopped speaking and pointed to the door, beyond which Robert could clearly hear the sound of feet clumping up the stairs.

  The footsteps went past them, and Robert eased forward to peer through the crack in the door at the end of the corridor, where the footman was unlocking a door.

  “Now then, missus. None of your tantrums. I’ve come to collect your—”

  There was a crashing sound and then some cursing, which made Robert wince, coming as it did from a woman, followed by the hasty sound of retreat.

  “Bloody woman! The quicker Mr. Fairfax gets rid of her, the better!” The footman disappeared down the stairs, muttering to himself.

  Robert waited another ten minutes before cautiously opening the attic door and beckoning Miss Harrington out into the corridor.

  “Let’s try the door,” he whispered.

  They crept toward the end door, and Robert bent forward to check for an exterior lock but found instead the key already inserted in the lock. He pointed it out to Miss Harrington.

  “Do you think the footman forgot it?”

  “Possibly. If he did, we’d better be quick.” Robert turned the key, which had obviously been oiled, and the latch slid free.

  “Let me go first,” Miss Harrington said.

  He reluctantly agreed, thinking that from what he’d heard, if the woman locked in the room had a gun, she would already have used it on the hapless footman.

  Miss Harrington gently knocked on the door. “Mrs. Summers? May we come in?” She pushed the door open as she spoke to reveal an elderly woman with a chair leg raised like a weapon above her head. “We wish you no harm.”

  “Who in the Lord’s name are you, and where are Thomas Fairfax and my daughter?” Madge Summers demanded.

  Robert bowed. “I’m Major Kurland, and this is Miss Harrington. We’ve been looking for you since your house burned down.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “To tell you that your daughter is dead.” Miss Harrington took over the conversation. “She came to see Mr. Thomas Fairfax, who had been working on the Kurland estate, and died after suffering a head injury during a carriage accident.”

  “I don’t believe you. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Madge Summers drew herself up to her full height and lowered the chair leg. She wore a serviceable dark brown dress with an apron over her skirts, and her graying hair was drawn back in a bun. “Is Thomas back, then?”

  “He is here. Have you not seen him?”

  Before the words were out of Miss Harrington’s mouth, Madge was pushing past her and Robert, her gaze fixed on the open door. “I bloody well have not! My house burned down, and the Fairfax carriage came and picked me up. He tricked me into coming here! Just wait till I get my hands on him. . . .”

  “But—”

  Robert had put out a hand to prevent Madge from leaving when she stopped of her own accord and stared at something over Rob
ert’s shoulder.

  “There’s no need to come and find me, Mrs. Summers. I am right here. The footman brought up another tray and found the door ajar and reported it to me.”

  Thomas stood in the doorway, a lantern in one hand and a pistol in the other. “What exactly is it you wish to speak to me about?”

  Robert reached out and carefully drew Miss Harrington closer to his side, his pistol hidden in the fold of her skirts. There was no way out of the room apart from through Thomas, and he doubted they were going to be allowed to leave quite yet.

  Thomas continued speaking. “I do apologize if you are annoyed with me, Mrs. Summers I thought it better to keep you safe until after the funeral and the departure of my guests.”

  Madge took a threatening step toward him. “What happened to my Emmy?”

  “As Miss Harrington has probably told you, she died after a carriage accident. She unintentionally took a fatal dose of laudanum to relieve her headache and passed away in her sleep.”

  “I don’t believe you. She was coming to visit me. She wanted to make up.”

  Thomas sighed. “I’m sure she was, but—”

  “Was that her funeral today? Why didn’t you tell me and let me attend? What did you do to her, and where’s my grandson? What have you done with him?”

  As Thomas moved farther into the room, Robert took a step toward the door, bringing Miss Harrington with him.

  A hint of annoyance flashed across Thomas’s face. “Mrs. Summers, your grandson is perfectly well and is currently asleep in the nursery after a rather stressful day.”

  “Emmy would want me to be with him.”

  “And so you shall be,” Thomas said soothingly. “As I said, I thought it best if you didn’t attend the funeral. I know how awkward it would be for you to mingle with your betters, and your daughter would’ve hated anyone to know you were her mother.” He put the lantern down and held out his hand. “Will you forgive me for keeping you here and allow me to reunite you with your grandchild?”