“But you are still going to break with Edward?”
“Yes, but for my own sake. I must be honest with him. And as for you and me, well –”
He could only nod in agreement. So they sat in silence again, his hand still wrapped around hers. He was aware that she was crying.
At length he pulled his hand away and got to his feet. He looked down at her, sitting there, with her hands clasped in her lap, her cheeks wet, her eyes red. She sobbed openly and looked away.
He pulled her gently to her feet and folded her into his arms, and held her as she cried herself out, feeling his own face grow damp with his own tears.
“You still have my heart,” he said, “whatever else happens or does not happen. That can’t change.”
Chapter Thirty
The next morning, after the Ffordes and Mrs Maitland had gone back to Northminster, Mrs Hope took Giles up to the sewing room, an airy room in the attics of the north wing where Miss Waites had been set to work repairing a set of embroidered bed hangings.
“She’s a treasure, Major Vernon,” said Mrs Hope. “We have been in great need of a clever woman like her. And I have work enough for her until Christmas, if others do not get there first – Mr Bodley, for example,” she added with a frown, picking up a very fine linen man’s shirt that was lying on one of the work tables. “Has Mr Bodley been up here, Miss Waites?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Miss Waites, glancing up from her work. “Just a little tear in one of his Lordship’s evening shirts. It won’t take me long to set right. Then I shall be back to the curtains.”
She glanced warily at Giles and turned away to cut a length of thread. Then she took the shirt from Mrs Hope and spread it on the table in front of her, looking for the tear.
“I suppose this gentleman has something he wants mending,” she said, still looking over the shirt.
“No, I just want to talk to you, if I might, Miss Waites?”
She shrugged.
“As you like,” she said.
“Thank you, Mrs Hope, that will be all,” Giles said, and the housekeeper left them alone.
“I’ve been wondering if I had you to thank for this,” she said. “If thanks are what’s due. Ever since that lady asked me to come here – well, I nearly didn’t come, you know. I probably shouldn’t have –”
“I am glad you did,” said Giles. “And in the end you know it will be the right thing.”
“Will I?” she said, looking up at him. “When they find I have gone, then –” She sighed and pushed away Lord Rothborough’s evening shirt as if it disgusted her.
“But you came. What made you change your mind?”
“I heard what happened to Kate,” she said after a pause.
“Who told you that?”
“I just heard it,” she said, “and I thought, if this lady wants me to come out to the country, then maybe I should risk it. And then when I was in the carriage, it struck me you might be behind it, and I nearly turned tail and went straight back.”
“Better the devil you know than the one you don’t?” Giles said.
“Yes. It’s not pleasant but it’s kept me safe long enough.”
“Playing by their rules?” She nodded. “But those rules have changed, and you decided to come here after all. I was with Kate when she died. I saw what they did to her,” he said and saw her wince a little. “That isn’t something anyone can accept.”
“She was a silly girl,” Miss Waites said.
“But she didn’t deserve that, did she? Nobody deserves that. And who would be next? That’s why you came here, after all. You can’t trust your own kin any longer, can you, Miss Waites? What if they turn on you?”
“So you know who I am,” she said, after a pause.
“Yes. I was in Marlingford yesterday.”
She got up from the table and went to the window, and gazed out.
“Who did you talk to?” she said.
“An old aunt of yours. And the verger, Mr Green.”
“Then it will be nothing but gossip.”
“Perhaps, then, you should tell me the truth. Tell me about your brothers and sister.”
“Why should I?”
“Because they need to be stopped. Give me something I can use against them. Or if you don’t know anything specific, make me understand them and what they are about. I need to know what is going on here. At least three people have been murdered over this, and I want it to stop. As do you, Miss Waites, yes?”
“And if I do talk, you’ll protect me?”
“Yes,” said Giles.
“And they won’t need to know it was me?”
“That I can’t guarantee. But anything you think you can bear to tell me, I can use, and that will help you, surely. The time for loyalty is past.”
She gave a bitter laugh and said, “That’s what my brother said.”
“That would be George?”
She shook her head.
“Merriam.”
“Merriam Hickman Waites?” Giles said. “Goes by Hickman, yes?”
“Yes,” she said sitting down again. “Always fancied he was the squire’s grandson. Silly boy, but my mother encouraged him. She was convinced she was gentry, that we all were. She did give herself airs. It was mortifying. I was glad to get away from it. Had to beg her to let me go and be apprenticed. That was bad enough, for it turned out that they didn’t have the money when they said they did, and I was left there in this shop in Leeds – she was a distant cousin on the Bickley side, and a very nice business it was – and it’s a wonder she didn’t turn me out. I had to earn my keep, and she kept me slaving at it, like I was plucked from the poorhouse.” She sniffed and smoothed the shirt in front of her. “But I learnt the trade, and I could earn my bread by it – just – but I couldn’t have my own business, which is what I wanted. And then Merriam came to Leeds, and started doing well for himself.”
“In what capacity?”
“He was working as a clerk to a wool merchant. Learning the business. I thought he’d be steady enough, and take the straight path. He was a devil when he was younger, but I thought he’d grown out of it. And he was doing very well. Took a little house, and I went and kept house for him and began to have a few customers of my own. Began to build up something for myself, but –” She sighed. “I should have known better. I should have cut with him like I cut with the others.”
“You mean your half-brother and sister?”
“Aye, George and Susan. I saw which way that was going, and I wasn’t having anything to do with it. That was why I was glad to see Merriam. He’d been working for George and then when he came to Leeds he told me he wanted nothing to do with them, that he didn’t like George’s way of doing business. The fool that I was!” She began again to smooth the shirt. “Now, where is this tear?”
“That can wait,” said Giles, “if you please. Why were you a fool?”
“Because Merriam was at the same game. Right from the start. No wonder he could afford that house for us and the fine furniture. No wonder my business did well when he told the other dressmakers to turn their best customers in my direction or else.” She glanced away. “And I thought I was doing well because of the quality of my work. And when I found out, he expected me to be grateful for it! Told me I shouldn’t be so proud, that he was just taking care of me.”
“So he threatened these other women?”
“Put at least two of them out of business. And not just in my trade. He had a nice line in threats, and if they didn’t pay for his protection, then God help them!”
“And he learnt all this from George?” She nodded.
“Pay me or else,” she said. “And then he’d give them credit, and charge them even more, and then he’d push them into the hands of a money lender, who of course worked for him, and bled them that way. And with the money, he bought out their leases and their businesses, and made it all very respectable, and Susan helped him do it. In fact, it was all her idea in the first place. It was
a wonder how the money piled up. And I was so blind. I didn’t see it until it was too late for me to get out. And then when my Henry died –” She broke off and swallowed down a sob. “If he hadn’t got a fever, we’d have been wed and gone to Canada. He would have taken me away from it all, but he died. Three weeks before our wedding.”
She broke down and cried for some minutes. Finally she managed to speak again. “And the worst of it was, Merriam was so kind. I should have been lost without him. He couldn’t have been a better brother to me in my grief. And how could I leave him then? He was all I had in the world to love, and to love me. So I stayed and I said nothing.”
She got up from the table and turned away from Giles in order to dry her tears and compose herself. Then she sat down again to face him.
“No, I’ve never told a soul about all this,” she said. “But there comes a time, and now Kate is dead – oh, that stupid girl! She was Merriam’s mistress, after a fashion. I don’t know how sweet they were on one another, but she was often at our house, and we became friends of a sort. And then George came to see us, and she went back to Northminster with him. Merriam wasn’t happy about that, I can tell you.”
“And why did George come to see you?”
“To talk business. Merriam was doing well, and of course so was George. Merriam had Leeds and George had Northminster. That was the bargain they struck. But of course Merriam had his plans and his schemes, and when Kate left to go with George, it piqued him. He’d already begun dabbling at Swalecliffe. Even took me on a holiday there for my health. Gave me the deeds of one of those fancy houses he was building up on the hill – for my old age. If only he could have just left it at that, for he made plenty of money there, but he had to go back to Northminster. I think it was when Susan bought the Manor after Miss Hickman died, that was the last straw for him. He wanted that for himself. Always talking about how he would have bought the place, and set up a family there. So we went back to Northminster and he declared war.”
“So how did you come to be living in Croft’s Building?”
“Merriam set me up in a little shop and I was determined to make my way, quite on my own, and I begged him to let me alone, and I thought I was managing – though it was hard enough – when one day my sister comes in and says she wants me to make some clothes for her. I was surprised, naturally, for I thought I would be the last person she would ask, but she said she wanted to make peace, and it was up to us, the women of the family, to show the way, and I couldn’t help but agree with her, for I was sick with worry that Merriam and George would come to grief, and it seemed that Susan felt that too. I was wrong, of course. She was using me. She wanted to know what Merriam was planning, and because I thought she wanted to make peace, I told her what I knew. God help me, I told her! And then of course Merriam found out, and that was that. He has a temper on him. He beat me black and blue and burnt the deeds of my house while I was lying bleeding on the floor. So I went back to Susan. What else could I do?”
“And she put you in Croft’s Building?”
“She owns it. She said I’d be safe there, and could earn my keep. Making dresses for their whores. Earning her trust, for she said, if I betrayed Merriam I can betray them. And I have now, haven’t I? And what good will come of it?”
“You have done the right thing. These people may be your flesh and blood but they are no good for you.”
“Sometimes I think I would have been better getting Henry’s fever and dying with him,” she said. “I’m a dead woman now, that’s the long and the short of it. When they realise what I have done –”
“You were right to talk, Miss Waites. This has gone on too long. It has to stop.”
-o-
Felix was both relieved and disappointed when he did not see Miss Blanchfort the following morning. He did, however, send her the copy of ‘The Bride of Lammermoor’, but by means of a footman and not with his compliments, and certainly not with any incriminating inscription.
“Give Miss Blanchfort this,” he had said, meaning to be careless and peremptory about it. It was an amusement for an invalid and nothing else.
Lord Rothborough had an errand for him – he wanted him to come with him to visit the wife of one of his tenants, who was gravely ill.
It proved to be a sad and sobering case. Felix could not find any hopeful signs to contradict the medical man she had already seen, and he drove back to Holbroke with Lord Rothborough in a sombre mood.
“Such a good woman,” said Lord Rothborough, “and bearing it all so cheerfully, though she must face the thought of leaving her children without a mother, and her husband alone. But what else can she do in the circumstances?”
“It makes one wonder why we ever risk our feelings,” Felix said.
“Yes, but I think, on balance, the joys do outweigh the sorrows, though sometimes it is hard to see the account clearly. You should not be too cynical, Felix.”
“No, I need to be more cynical,” Felix said. “I am altogether too –” He broke off.
“You did appear to be having quite an involved conversation with Eleanor last night,” said Lord Rothborough after a moment.
“My point entirely. And yours, I think, of the other day! She is too full of fancies and I am too susceptible.”
“It’s not a propitious time for her, certainly,” said Lord Rothborough, “and I stand by what I said, but it may be that there is something there between you that might be built upon. You certainly looked very well together.”
“That is not standing by what you said!” exclaimed Felix. “And how we look, surely that cannot indicate anything?”
Lord Rothborough did not respond to this and they drove the rest of the way in silence.
They returned to find Lady Maria, Major Vernon and Miss Blanchfort sitting in the morning room. Miss Blanchfort was looking more flushed than usual, as if a fever had set in, and he could not stop himself going straight up to her to see if all was right. As he did so, he was aware that everyone else was watching and he was soon as crimson as she was.
“You looked feverish,” he said, having felt her forehead and cheeks. He took her hand and checked her pulse.
“It is warm in here,” she said. “And I was playing with the dogs before.”
“It is,” he said, feeling himself that the room was oppressively hot. “Your pulse is quite as it should be.”
Then he noticed, lying in the folds of her dress, the volume of Scott. She, seeing this, smiled up at him.
“It’s a favourite of mine,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I thought you might need something to pass the time,” he said.
He felt a strong desire to sit down and discover which scenes she liked best, and if her impressions matched his own. But at the same time, he was relieved to hear Major Vernon saying they must take their leave, and he was able to disentangle himself from this silken snare.
-o-
“So it is as you thought – a feud between two brothers?” Felix asked, when Major Vernon had told him all Miss Waites had said.
They had returned to Ardenthwaite and Major Vernon had spread a map of Northminster out on the large library table.
“It’s about territory,” said Major Vernon. “If Merriam Hickman had not decided to come back to Northminster, then Bickley would have carried on as before. But they are competing for the same business now, both legal and illegal.”
“And which one will win?” Felix said.
“Neither, if I have anything to do with it,” said Major Vernon. “But how are we going to achieve that?”
Felix was a little surprised at the bluntness of the Major’s question.
“Well, if Mostyn can be got to admit he had a part in the Colonel’s murder, and who paid him for it, then you can go directly after Hickman, perhaps?”
“If he does admit it,” said the Major. “At the moment, he knows we have only flimsy, circumstantial evidence against him and if he gets an adequate counsel, he might easily get off. He h
as no reason to admit anything. And Hickman presumably could be prevailed upon to pay for his defence.”
“Could you not arrest Hickman for his assault on his sister?”
Major Vernon shook his head.
“She will never testify against him.” He walked over to the window and looked out, leaning against the embrasure. “No, the only way we can do this is by finding those who will talk. There will be people, no doubt, who have lost everything through their racketeering and intimidation. If we can persuade them to speak – and they have been silent so far. But perhaps if we can find someone who has nothing left to lose.”
Felix looked down at the plan of the city, and tried to imagine it as an anatomised body that had succumbed to the ravages of disease. Where were the most damaged and wretched people of the city to be found?
“We could try the workhouse,” he said.
“That is an excellent suggestion,” said Major Vernon, coming back to the table and looking at the map. “And the almshouse at St Benet’s Gate gives out casual charity, and of course, the debtor’s prison.”
“That should keep us busy,” said Felix. “Are you not supposed to be on leave?”
“You are going to give me a clean bill of health, Carswell,” said Major Vernon, taking out his notebook.
At that moment there was the sound of a carriage drawing up outside. Felix went to the window to see who it was.
“It’s Captain Lazenby,” he said, in some surprise.
They went straight downstairs to meet him.
“I am glad to find you at home, gentlemen,” said Lazenby. “I am afraid I must cancel your leave, Major Vernon. A serious situation has arisen. The Bishop’s son has been abducted.”
Chapter Thirty-one
“He was taken,” said Mrs Hughes. “He would not leave of his own free will. He had no reason to run away. Another boy, yes, but not Edmund.”
The Ghosts of Ardenthwaite (The Northminster Mysteries Book 5) Page 27
