Death Comes to Kurland Hall

by Catherine Lloyd

  Madge raised the chair leg again. “I don’t trust you. Emmy didn’t trust you, either.”

  “Then why did she change her will and leave Robin in my sole charge?”

  “She would never do that. You are lying!”

  For the first time, Thomas looked directly at Robert. “Major Kurland, can you confirm that Mrs. Fairfax changed her will?”

  “I can confirm that she did. I spoke to her solicitor after her death.”

  Madge shook her head. “You must have forced her to do so.”

  Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Why on earth would I have done that? We were barely on speaking terms when I left. It was something of a surprise to me, too.”

  “I’ll wager it was, seeing as how much you hated my daughter for giving old Mr. Fairfax another son—a legitimate one, and not a bastard like you. You did everything you could to tear them apart, didn’t you? Even pretending to fall in love with my Emmy, but she saw through you, she knew she couldn’t trust you, and she told me so many times.”

  “Things changed. She obviously decided to trust me, after all.” Thomas was no longer smiling and looked white around the mouth. “Now, do you wish to come and see your grandson or not?”

  Madge backed up two more steps. “And have you murder me on the stairs? I don’t believe a word of this. All I know is that Emmy was afraid of you and feared for her life. That’s why she begged her husband to send you away. All those accidents young Robin had! They all stopped when you left.”

  “You are mistaken, Mrs. Summers. The only person determined to destroy any relationships was your daughter. I lost everything because of her.”

  “And you deserved to lose everything, making up to her, turning her head, bedding your own father’s wife!”

  Miss Harrington gasped and pressed her fingers to her mouth. Thomas went still.

  “That is a lie. She was the one who put herself in my bed and then told my father I’d forced her!”

  “Because she was afraid of you! She knew that if she didn’t get rid of you, then neither she nor her child would live.” Madge snorted. “And now that you’ve gotten rid of her, how long before you start on the boy?”

  Robert cleared his throat. “Mrs. Summers, those are serious allegations. Do you have any proof?”

  “I have the letters she wrote to me, telling me what was going on. I was here and saw a lot more than he realizes when I was in charge of the nursery.”

  “The last letter Mrs. Fairfax wrote . . . ,” Miss Harrington said. “I picked it up from the floor after Mr. Fairfax finished reading it. It was written in a perfect hand.” She swallowed hard. “Did she even write that note? Only Mr. Fairfax saw it and read it out loud to us.”

  Thomas turned toward them. “Miss Harrington, you cannot possibly believe the ranting of this old woman! That’s why I had to keep her under lock and key. She is ill and insane.”

  “Did you write that note, Thomas?” Robert asked. “It is a perfectly reasonable question. If you forced Mrs. Fairfax to confess to a murder she did not commit, what else might you have done?”

  “I have done nothing,” Thomas snapped. “This is ridiculous. This is why I kept Mrs. Summers away from you all.”

  “Because she knew the truth?” Robert asked before turning to Madge. “I wonder what else she knows. Is it true that Mrs. Fairfax was married before?”

  “Yes, sir. That is correct.”

  “Is it also true that no record of the first husband’s death exists?”

  “He died fighting in France. A lot of men never came home from there or were ever given a proper Christian burial.”

  “That is highly possible. I was there myself. But did he perhaps return after Mrs. Fairfax had unknowingly remarried?”

  “Why on earth would you think that, sir?” Madge looked flabbergasted. “Who put such notions in your head? Was it Thomas?”

  “No, it was someone else entirely.” Robert exhaled. “I’m beginning to believe he was misled. I was informed that Mrs. Fairfax’s marriage was bigamous, and her child by default illegitimate.”

  For a moment there was silence. Robert focused his attention on Thomas, who had gone very still. “Were you aware of this, Thomas? Did Mrs. Chingford perhaps share that particular piece of gossip with you at the Stanford wedding? I can imagine what you must have thought if that proved to be true. Young Robin was no better than you, which would mean the unentailed estate would have to be divided between you and him and the rest passed on to a legitimate heir.”

  Thomas frowned. “I don’t understand what you are implying, Major.”

  “But you must. Why did Mrs. Fairfax come to see you at Kurland Hall? What was she really hoping to achieve? You told me she wanted you to return to Fairfax Park to manage it for her son.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “But she was afraid of you and had driven you away once. Why on earth would she ask you back?”

  “I don’t know!” Thomas made a violent gesture with his pistol, and Robert tensed. “She begged me to come back.”

  “Did she tell you her son might be illegitimate?”

  “Of course not! If I’d known that, I would never have—” He stopped speaking.

  “You would never have persuaded her to take too much laudanum and written a note for her, confessing to pushing Mrs. Chingford down the stairs?”

  Madge cried out, the sound ragged in the small room.

  “You cannot prove that.” Thomas held Robert’s gaze. “She did push Mrs. Chingford. That’s the truth. Miss Dorothea Chingford saw her.”

  “But you were the one who made sure Mrs. Chingford was dead, aren’t you? You were the only one allowed to blackmail your stepmother.”

  Thomas shook his head. “This is all merely conjecture. I am surprised at you, Major Kurland.”

  Miss Harrington had moved closer to Madge and put a comforting arm round her. “I think you are lying, Mr. Fairfax. I agree with Mrs. Summers. How long will young Robin last under your guardianship before you find a way to dispose of him, as well?” She looked over at Robert. “We cannot let him hurt the boy.”

  “For God’s sake! I have no intention of hurting the boy!” Thomas snapped. “There will have to be some adjustments to the estate because of his illegitimacy, but I don’t see why we can’t live in harmony together.”

  “You are convinced Robin is not your father’s son, then?” Robert asked.

  “Mrs. Fairfax suggested to me that he was not. That’s why she came to see me after altering her will. Mrs. Chingford’s foul gossip only confirmed what I had already guessed—that Emily’s marriage was bigamous, and her child the son of her previous husband.”

  Thomas smiled. “There is no case to answer, Major. Mrs. Fairfax accidentally killed Mrs. Chingford and then took her own life out of guilt. I will continue to be in charge here, as my father would’ve wished, until Robin comes of age. Then the estate will be divided between us.” He hesitated. “Can we not leave it at that?”

  “Dorothea Chingford saw you,” Robert said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She saw you at the bottom of the stairs, beside Mrs. Chingford’s body. That’s why she’s been so afraid. She tried to warn me, but I didn’t understand until now.” He felt in his waistcoat pocket and took out the battered locket. “She asked me to bring this back to Mrs. Fairfax.”

  Madge made a lunge for the locket. “That’s mine. Emmy said she would get it repaired for me in London.”

  “I believe she was wearing it when she pushed Mrs. Chingford. It was found wrapped in Mrs. Chingford’s fingers.”

  Madge took the locket and carefully opened it. “Mrs. Chingford was always a liar and a gossip. I hated working for her. She used to read all our letters. I didn’t realize that until it was too late and she knew all our secrets. But she didn’t allow the truth to stand in the way of a bit of gossip or blackmail.” She looked right at Thomas. “You murdered my daughter because you thought she’d come to tell you that your fa
ther wasn’t Robin’s father?” Her face contorted. “You were half right. Robin isn’t your father’s son. He is your son. You’ve been planning on killing your own bastard.”

  “No!” Thomas shook his head and took an unsteady step back. “No, that can’t be right. She—” The pistol in his hand wavered, and his mouth twisted. “You are lying!”

  “Why would I lie? You’ve killed my daughter. The only thing I can do now is make sure you don’t kill her child, as well!”

  Thomas pointed the pistol straight at Madge. “Be quiet, you stupid old bitch. Shut your mouth!”

  Robert leapt forward to knock Thomas’s pistol hand up toward the ceiling, and Miss Harrington flung her arms around Madge and pushed her to the floor. The confined space exploded with sound. Before Robert could regain his balance, Thomas turned and ran from the room. Plaster from the ceiling continued to fall, coating them all in fine white powder and making Robert cough.

  A shriek from Madge made Robert look up.

  “Miss Harrington is hurt! Help her, Major Kurland!”

  Robert immediately knelt beside Miss Harrington, who appeared to be bleeding. In shock, he took out his handkerchief, gathered her in his arms, and pressed it against the wound in her skull, where something sharp had laid a bloody, furrowed path.

  A babble of voices erupted behind him. Without letting go of Miss Harrington, who remained unconscious, he shouted above the noise.

  “Find Mr. Fairfax! Keep him away from the nursery, and fetch a doctor!”

  Madge struggled to her feet, her face white. “I’ll go to the nursery. I won’t let him harm my boy.”

  “Be my guest.” Robert handed her his pistol, and she left the room. “Simmons, are you there?”

  “Yes, Major Kurland.”

  “Mr. Fairfax has a gun. Take two of the footmen and try to apprehend him before Mrs. Summers finds him. Lock him up somewhere secure and call the local magistrate.”

  “But why, sir?”

  “Simmons, just do as I say!” Robert roared, using every note of his commanding voice. His knee was beginning to ache, so he sat on his arse and kept hold of Miss Harrington, balancing her on his lap. The smell of blood was making him ill and reminding him of too many battlefields and lost friends and . . . He took a deep, steadying breath. He was not going to lose Miss Harrington. He would not countenance it.

  Eventually, she opened her eyes and winced. “What happened?”

  “Thomas tried to shoot Mrs. Summers, and your head got in the way.”

  She tried to bring her hand up to her face, but he gently stopped her fingers and held on to them. “You’ll have a scar, but I think you will live.”

  “Good,” she murmured. “I have a headache. Can you take me home now, sir?”

  He carefully placed a kiss on her nose. “That, my dear, will be my pleasure.”

  Chapter 22

  Robert nodded at the footman stationed outside the small parlor. “I’ll see Mr. Fairfax. Please don’t let anyone else in, and lock the door behind me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Robert found Thomas seated at a small table. His bruised face bore the signs of the scuffle to prevent him absconding, and his coat was ripped at the shoulder. He looked up as Robert approached him, and shot to his feet.

  “Major Kurland, sir, you have to help me. This is not what I intended to happen. Please, believe me, I—”

  Robert held up his hand and sat down. “I have a few questions to ask you purely on my own account.”

  Thomas subsided into his seat. “I suppose you think the worst of me now, just like everyone else.”

  “I certainly think you made some extremely foolish decisions.”

  “But my intentions were good!” Thomas said earnestly. “Mrs. Fairfax was not capable of running this estate. All I wanted was the opportunity to live here and help my . . . my half brother.”

  “Your son,” Robert said gently. “Is that perhaps why Mrs. Fairfax came to see you at Kurland Hall? To tell you the truth?”

  “Then why didn’t she tell me all of it?” Thomas said. “She hinted at things and then asked me to return and manage the estate. I had no idea that she had changed her will and had made me Robin’s guardian. When she got into the altercation with Mrs. Chingford at the wedding, I had just left her. I heard Mrs. Chingford fall down the stairs behind me and went back to see if she was truly dead.”

  “And strangled her. When you did that, you realized you had an opportunity to persuade Mrs. Fairfax to do what you wanted by threatening to reveal her part in Mrs. Chingford’s death.”

  “Yes, but if she had told me the truth, I would never have thought of it. Or needed to do anything.” Thomas sought Robert’s gaze. “Can’t you see?”

  “Oh, I think I see. With Mrs. Chingford out of the way, you would no longer have to fear her spreading her stories about Robin’s parentage. And Mrs. Fairfax was so afraid of discovery, she would be willing to do whatever you told her.”

  “You make it sound so . . . mercenary,” Thomas said quietly. “But I can assure you, I didn’t plan for Mrs. Fairfax to push Mrs. Chingford down the stairs.”

  “But you were more than willing to take advantage of it,” Robert said. “And what about Mrs. Fairfax’s death?”

  Thomas dropped his gaze to his hands. “She was consumed with guilt over what had happened to Mrs. Chingford. I tried to reason with her, but she was determined to confess. I couldn’t allow her to do that.” He sighed. “She knew I strangled Mrs. Chingford.”

  “I’m not sure that she did. The only person who mentioned seeing another figure at the foot of the stairs was Dorothea Chingford.”

  Thomas groaned and buried his face in his hands. Robert waited patiently for him to look up.

  “You wrote the confession for Mrs. Fairfax, didn’t you?”

  “I thought it would end things—that everyone would accept what had happened, and I would be free to go and reclaim Fairfax Park.”

  “And eventually inherit the estate after poor Robin suffered a terrible accident.”

  Thomas swallowed hard and whispered, “You think I’m an out-and-out murderer, don’t you? But they all lied to me. If I’d only known the truth, I would never have had to take advantage of the circumstances that occurred.”

  “That’s no excuse, Thomas.” Robert stood and looked down at Thomas’s bowed head. “Two women are dead because of you and your ‘choices.’ I have no sympathy for you at all.”

  He bowed and turned to the door before remembering something else. “And what of Miss Harrington? Did you truly intend to marry her, or was your interest in her feigned to prevent her from speaking out?”

  “I would have married her, Major. I have a great deal of respect for her,” Thomas said. “If we had married, I would’ve been able to prevent her from meddling in what no longer concerned her.”

  Robert snorted. “Miss Harrington was born to meddle, and thank God for it. You would’ve had to dispose of her to keep her quiet.” He turned away from the defeated figure at the table and made his slow way over to the door. “The local magistrate will be here soon. I’ll advise him to take you to the county town and hold you there.”

  There was no reply, and for that, he was deeply thankful. His ability to maintain his temper in the face of Thomas’s inability to see anything but his own selfish needs was waning. Mayhap Thomas had taken advantage of the circumstances, but he had done so without regard to the sanctity of human life.

  And he had been more than willing to add Miss Harrington to his list of victims.

  Robert slammed the door behind him, startling the footman on duty.

  “The magistrate will be here shortly, Major.”

  “Good. Let me know when he arrives so that I can speak to him.”

  “Mrs. Green is busy writing letters in the yellow parlor, so you may come in and see the patient, Major Kurland.”

  Robert nodded at Miss Chingford as she opened the door. “Thank you.”

  Miss Harrington
was sitting up in bed, her hair was braided to one side of her head, and she had a large bandage on her forehead. She still managed to look quite formidable.

  “Good morning, Miss Harrington, Mrs. Summers.”

  The old nurse sat by the fire, knitting, and barely acknowledged his presence. She had taken up residence in the nursery with Mrs. Williams and had kept young Robin away from all the upheaval.

  “Did you find Mr. Fairfax?” Miss Harrington asked.

  Robert took the seat next to her bed. If he wasn’t mistaken, his betrothed was going to have a black eye before the day was out. He decided not to mention it.

  “He was apprehended in the stables, trying to saddle a horse. I’ve sent for the local magistrate, who is away from home.”

  “Did you speak to Mr. Fairfax yourself?”

  “I did.” Robert sighed. “I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. He seems to be incapable of understanding what he’s done. He kept saying that if he’d just left well alone, he would have come back to work for Mrs. Fairfax at Fairfax Park, discovered Robin was his son, and settled down into an unconventional but satisfying relationship, managing the estate for both of them.”

  Miss Harrington’s lips thinned. “I have no sympathy for him whatsoever. Don’t forget he probably strangled Mrs. Chingford and deliberately helped Mrs. Fairfax overdose herself on laudanum.”

  “In his opinion, he was merely taking advantage of the opportunities that suggested themselves to him. I asked him whether he had anything to do with the carriage wreck, and he denied all responsibility for that. He did admit that he was able to use Mrs. Fairfax’s condition after the wreck to his benefit. I suspect the carriage incident was my cousin Paul’s attempt to unsettle me. He hoped to come in and run the estate for his poor crippled cousin and probably attempted to make sure I never got out of bed again.”

  “Mr. Reading was staying in Saffron Walden, wasn’t he?” Miss Harrington sighed. “Poor Mrs. Fairfax.”

  “I don’t have much sympathy for her, either. If only she’d told Thomas the truth from the beginning.”

  “And lost all the social advantages her marriage had given her and her son?” Miss Harrington shook her head. “She was far too afraid to do that.”