02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall

by Margaret Addison

  ‘It was just idle gossip, that’s all.’

  ‘It was a lot more than that, Isabella,’ snapped Josephine, becoming angry despite her good intentions. ‘What about the girl? He as good as murdered her!’

  ‘Don’t say that, don’t you dare!’ snapped Isabella rising angrily from her seat and looking furious. Josephine put her hand to her face and looked alarmed. The gesture seemed to calm her sister for she sat back down again, slowly. ‘Don’t say that, Jo. He didn’t mean to, you know it was…’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, he doesn’t know, does he?’ Realisation dawned on Josephine’s face. ‘Oh, but I don’t suppose he’d care, anyway, knowing the sort of man he is. But even so, you must tell him, you must tell him what he’s done.’

  ‘No, and you won’t tell him either.’ Isabella said firmly. ‘And anyway, it was only a servant.’

  ‘How can you be so callous?’ asked Josephine, angrily. ‘Honestly, Isabella, I wish you’d grow up and stop being so selfish. She may only have been a servant, as you put it, but she mattered, of course she mattered. And besides, what about the other servants? How do you think they feel? It’s not fair on them. You don’t think it was an accident, do you, Robert spilling hot soup on Hugh.’

  ‘Oh, that was rather funny, wasn’t it?’ giggled Isabella, ‘You should have seen Hugh’s face, I thought he was going to explode.’

  ‘Issy!’ said Josephine, shocked. ‘Of course it wasn’t funny. Hugh could have been seriously hurt. And besides, Robert’s lost his job because of it.’

  ‘Oh well, I’m sure you’ll talk Father round.’

  ‘Well of course I’ll try to. But Issy, why are you marrying Hugh? It’s obvious you’re not in love with him and even you wouldn’t marry someone just for a title, not someone like him, anyway. Are you in some sort of trouble? You’re not –.’

  ‘No! Please, Josephine, don’t try to interfere. I’m marrying him and that’s all there is to it.’ She looked at her sister, anxiously. ‘Look, I do love him in my own way. Well as much as I’ll ever love anyone.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Well, we can’t all be like you, can we?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ demanded Josephine.

  ‘Having romantic notions about marriage. And we can’t all be the dutiful little daughter staying at home looking after Father. I couldn’t bear to be cooped up here in the wilderness with absolutely no society to speak of unless you count the vicar and the country doctor and solicitor. I’d simply go mad. I want to see the world; I want to experience everything. Oh, it’s alright for you,’ she added dismissively, ‘it’s exactly what you want, to be shut up here.’

  ‘How do you know that’s what I want, or what I’m like come to that?’ asked Josephine. There was a strange note to her voice which made her sister look at her curiously. ‘Have you ever bothered to ask or try to find out? How do you really know that I like being shut away here, as you put it?’

  ‘But you love living here, you’re always saying how much you do.’ Isabella looked surprised.

  ‘Yes, of course, I do but …’ Josephine faltered, suddenly looking dejected.

  ‘What is it?’ Isabella felt a surge of curiosity, all her interest was transferred to her sister now.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’m just being silly, just ignore me.’ She thought, haven’t I already said those words before this evening? I’m going to go mad if I don’t tell someone soon, but I can’t tell Issy and I can’t tell Hallam. They’d never understand. They’ll find out soon enough and then they’ll hate me for what I’ve done. They’ll never have anything to do with me, they’ll…

  ‘Oh, don’t cry, Josephine, I can’t bear it.’ Isabella came over to the bed, sat down and put her arm around her older sister’s shoulders. ‘Don’t cry old thing, there’s no need. I know I’ve been rather beastly. I admit I’ve behaved badly, but I thought you were over him. I never really thought that you were ever that keen on him anyway. But please don’t cry.’

  ‘There’s every need for me to cry, if only you knew. And it’s got nothing to do with Hugh, I’m quite over him. But I’m scared, Isabella, I’m scared about what’s going to happen.’

  ‘So am I,’ said Isabella, slowly and with feeling, ‘so am I.’

  Chapter Seven

  When Rose went down to breakfast the next morning she found only Josephine seated there eating a slice of toast.

  ‘I do hope you slept well, Rose,’ said Josephine, pleasantly. ‘Do help yourself to breakfast. There’s bacon, eggs and devilled kidneys in the chafing dishes on the sideboard and Sidney will serve you coffee and hot toast.’ She turned her attention to the footman. ‘I do hope you’re feeling better, Sidney. Crabtree said that you were laid up in bed yesterday quite ill. I suppose we are rather short staffed now that poor Robert’s gone. I do hope I can get Father to reconsider his dismissal. He has a mother and two small brothers to support, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ said the footman and hurried off to the kitchen as soon as he had served Rose, eager to break the good news to Robert that the mistress intended to speak on his behalf. While Sidney understood why Robert had done what he had done, he had not appreciated being roused from his sick bed to undertake both his and Robert’s duties which were onerous even when he was feeling on top form, which he most definitely was not today.

  There was a companionable silence for a time as each girl indulged in eating her breakfast.

  ‘I’m sorry we’re a bit light on the ground,’ Josephine said, turning her attention back to Rose, ‘Isabella’s insisted on taking breakfast in her room and Father always breakfasts early. He’s bending poor Cedric’s ear in his study while we speak. About Hallam, of course. He wants Cedric to keep him occupied. I think he’s afraid that otherwise he might challenge Hugh to a duel or something equally idiotic.’

  ‘Your brother certainly seems very upset by Lord Sneddon’s arrival,’ Rose said carefully, not wishing to be accused of prying.

  ‘Yes, it really is most unfortunate. I can’t imagine what Isabella was thinking bringing him here; she might have known how Hallam would react. I suppose I ought to explain it all to you, although I’m afraid it’s all rather sordid. You see, there was a bit of a scandal earlier this year when…’ Josephine broke off speaking suddenly at the arrival of Sidney with fresh coffee and more slices of hot toast. ‘I say, do you fancy having a walk in the gardens in say three quarters of an hour? I’ve got a few chores to do first and then I’ll tell you all about it.’

  Rose finished her coffee and left the room quickly, not long after Josephine. No mention had been made as to whether or not Lord Sneddon had breakfasted and she did not wish to find herself suddenly alone with him over bacon and eggs. She walked swiftly out into the hall in time to catch the end of a conversation Josephine was having with the butler.

  ‘Are you sure that this is all the post that’s come this morning, Crabtree?’ she was asking, flicking through some envelopes.

  ‘Quite sure, madam,’ confirmed the butler. ‘There are just the two letters for you, miss, and five for the master.’

  ‘Oh, but I was expecting another one. Why hasn’t it come?’ Josephine sounded clearly agitated. ‘Crabtree, are you sure this is everything? I’m waiting on a very important letter. I must get it today. Send the boot boy down to the post office, will you, and check whether it’s there.’

  ‘This is all the post, miss.’

  ‘I don’t care, Crabtree, I want the boy to check. I was expecting the letter yesterday, it’s obviously been mislaid somewhere at the post office; get the boy to go over there and get them to check thoroughly.’

  ‘Very good, madam,’ said the butler in a resigned manner, sure of the outcome but carrying out his orders nevertheless.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Rose,’ said Josephine suddenly catching sight of her. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’ Was it Rose’s imagination or had Josephine blushed slightly as if she had been caught out in so
mething of a dubious nature? ‘You must have thought I was making rather a song and dance about that letter. It was just that I’m expecting a note from a shop about an outfit I’m having made to wear to a party. The invitation was so very grand, and now I’m having second thoughts about having my dress made locally. I should really have gone up to London to organise my costume. The shop said they’d get back to me with some ideas. And normally they’re so reliable, which makes me feel sure that they’ve lost the letter somewhere at the post office. We are always having dreadful problems with post going astray.’ With that she made her way hurriedly upstairs, and again Rose may have been mistaken, but she had the feeling that the girl was close to tears.

  Rose wondered idly what the letter was that Josephine was waiting on so impatiently. Not for a moment did she believe the story of a fancy dress party. It was clear to her that this had been the first thing that had come into Josephine’s mind in a clumsy attempt to explain her agitation. Besides anything, Rose could not imagine Josephine attending a fancy dress ball; it seemed to her much more the sort of thing her sister, Isabella, would do. Before she could dwell on the matter further, she almost collided with Cedric who was coming out of Baron Atherton’s study, a rather serious and resigned expression on his face.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Rose. I am glad to see you. I’m sorry I missed you at breakfast. The baron was very keen to have a word with me about Hallam. He’s got it into his head that the boy means to do Lord Sneddon harm and he wants to take all necessary precautions to ensure that Isabella’s marriage to Hugh takes place.’ He took her hand and led her into the drawing room in order that they might continue their conversation in private. ‘Between you and me, Rose, I’m having difficulty reasoning with the man. I’ve tried to explain what a cad Sneddon is, and how Isabella would be much better off not marrying him, but he simply won’t listen. He’s got his heart set on his daughter becoming a duchess. Really the man’s intolerable; he seems to have very little regard for his daughter’s future happiness. Having said that, I’m sure Isabella can look after herself. I have never known her do anything that she doesn’t want to do. My mother used to think her even more headstrong than Lavinia, and that’s saying something.’

  ‘Josephine mentioned something about a scandal that happened earlier this year involving Sneddon. She’s going to tell me all about it later when we go for a walk in the gardens.’

  ‘Good. I know I said last night that I didn’t want us to get involved in all this, but I think now the sooner we get to the bottom of it, the sooner we can sort everything out and enjoy this weekend. I’m off to have a word with Hallam to get his side of the story. I’m pleased to see that Hugh’s keeping a low profile this morning.’ With that, he mounted the staircase and, taking the stairs two at a time, soon disappeared from view.

  Rose looked at her wristwatch. She still had twenty minutes or so before she was due to meet Josephine for a walk in the gardens and she wondered how she should occupy herself until then. She glanced around the hall and her eye rested on the door to the library. No doubt it would be full of some interesting books that she could browse through to while away the time until she met up with Josephine; certainly it seemed a waste of time and energy to go back upstairs.

  She opened the door to the library and went in. For a moment she did nothing but take in the splendour of the room, the pale yellow walls with vast Victorian mahogany brass-trimmed bookcases, completely filled with books bound in calf leather, and which covered large areas of the walls almost up to the ceiling. The bookcases in turn were divided by Corinthian columns and surmounted on the occasional plinth around the room were a number of marble busts. A pair of late nineteenth century, high backed, tufted leather wing chairs had been drawn up to the great marble fireplace at the end of the room, which remained unlit.

  Rose selected a book from the shelves at random and went and sat on one of the leather wing chairs. Due to the height of the back and the way the chair was positioned, it amused her to think that if she tucked up her legs beneath her on the seat, which was easily done given that the chair was so large, then any servant happening to open the door would assume that the room was empty for she would be completely hidden from view by the chair back. She leaned back into the leather, finding the chair surprisingly comfortable and this, coupled with the act of reading, began to make her feel drowsy. Afterwards, she realised that she must have fallen asleep, even if only for a few minutes, for she did not hear the door open until it was too late.

  ‘Hallam, your father has asked me to come and speak with you,’ Cedric began, walking into the young man’s bedroom.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ replied Hallam listlessly. He was lying out-stretched and fully clothed on his bed which, together with the dark rings under his eyes, indicated that he had been up for hours. As far as Cedric could tell, he had been throwing balls of rolled up paper at the ceiling, seemingly having abandoned attempts to get them into the wickerwork waste paper basket situated at the other end of the room.

  ‘Come on, old man,’ said Cedric, sitting down on the bed beside him, ‘you’d better tell me what’s going on. You’ll feel better for it and you never know, perhaps I can help.’

  ‘It’s no use, Cedric, my father won’t listen to me. I went to see him first thing this morning to have my say, but he’s adamant that Isabella’s going to marry Sneddon. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind.’

  ‘If you feel so strongly about it, then perhaps you should try and change Isabella’s mind; after all she’s the one who’ll be marrying the fellow. Come on. You can’t just lie there doing nothing but giving the servants additional work. I know it’s early, but I’ll give you a game of billiards in the game’s room. You can tell me what you’ve got against Sneddon marrying your sister while we’re playing.’

  The door was flung open and then shut again loudly and Rose awoke with a start, realising that she was no longer alone in the library. But before she could make her presence known a heated argument broke out, so that she was left to sit where she was, concealed from view, a reluctant eavesdropper.

  ‘Hugh, I don’t think I can go through with it; please don’t make me.’ Rose had not heard the aloof Isabella sound so wretched.

  ‘Pull yourself together, Isabella.’ Rose recognised Lord Sneddon’s voice which sounded cold, harsh and unrelenting. ‘We had an agreement, my dear, don’t you remember? I’ll keep quiet about certain of your escapades if you honour your side of the bargain.’

  ‘But it’s too much, Hugh, too much to ask of anyone. I can’t do it,’ she sobbed, ‘I simply can’t do it.’

  ‘Well, in that case I’ll hand these letters over to a newspaper or perhaps distribute them all over London.’ Rose heard the rustle of paper as Lord Sneddon took a bundle of papers from his pocket. ‘Is that what you really want, Isabella? I’m sure the baron will be delighted to find out what his darling daughter really gets up to in London. I’m sure he’d love to know that the illicit affair between the Honourable Isabella Atherton and her penniless French tutor is common gossip among high society.’

  ‘No, Hugh, please.’ Rose could hear what she supposed was Isabella attempting to snatch the letters from Sneddon’s grasp.

  ‘Not so quick, my dear. Besides, don’t take me for a fool. I’m not so stupid as to keep all your letters with me. What I have here are only a few. Still, they make very interesting reading, now let’s see: “My darling Claude. I cannot wait until I am in your arms and your lips are on mine; to feel our bodies entwined as one ….” Really, my dear, how very risqué. I only hope that his letters to you were equally passionate.’

  ‘Please, Hugh, don’t…’ There was a silence as if each were contemplating their next move.

  ‘Tell me that you haven’t read all my letters to Claude. I couldn’t bear it,’ Isabella said at last.

  ‘No need to fret, my dear. I’ve only glanced through one or two just to get the general gist of things, so to speak. Believe me, my dear Isabella, I ge
t no thrill out of reading your impassioned words to another man. Now, if such words were addressed to me, well that would be another matter altogether.’

  ‘If I do go through with it, do you give me your word as a gentleman that you’ll return every single one of my letters to me?’

  ‘I do. At our wedding breakfast if you so desire. We can stand side by side as you count them and then we’ll throw them into the fire.’

  ‘I don’t understand why you want to marry me in the first place. Surely you’d prefer a willing bride rather than one blackmailed into marrying you against her will.’

  ‘I’ve explained before, Isabella. I need money, and lots of it. I haven’t time to woo an heiress. I wasted enough time on Lavinia and a number before her as it is. My creditors won’t wait. You’re not quite as rich as I would have liked, but you’ll have to do; beggars can’t be choosers. Still, it needn’t be too awful. You are very lovely, my dear; it needn’t be such a sacrifice if you don’t want it to be. And it’s not as if you’re not getting anything out of it other than the return of your letters. You’ll be a duchess in due course and many women consider me more than tolerably handsome.’

  There was a silence as neither spoke for a moment.

  ‘If I do agree to go through with it,’ Rose heard Isabella say finally, ‘do you promise me faithfully that you won’t read any more of my letters?’

  ‘I do, you have my word.’

  ‘Very well then, so be it.’ A noise suggested that Isabella was stifling a sob.