My Lady Deceiver

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by Freda Lightfoot


  Bryce was already examining that possibility. ‘You’re right, and it looks as if the two front legs were partly sawn through, then gave way as pressure came to bear on them when the horse rocked.’

  ‘Nonsense, but if that is the case, I declare myself not guilty of that either.’

  Not for a moment did Rose believe him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rose voiced these suspicions to her husband as they lay in bed together that night, the one person she felt she could turn to for support. ‘I’m quite convinced Jago was the culprit.’

  Bryce was dismissive as he stroked her hair. ‘I think your imagination is running away with you. Why would he do such a thing? I agree, Jago has ever been wild, but I doubt even he would go so far as to hurt a child.’

  ‘Not even one who stands in the way of his inheritance?’

  His expression was surprisingly stern. ‘Not even then. My brother is not completely without common sense.’

  ‘But he does like things all his own way, believes he can do as he pleases on the estate. He buys and sells land, puts up rents, evicts tenants for no reason, all without discussions with anyone. I had to speak to him most firmly about his threat to evict Tilly’s family. Why does your mother not exercise more control over him?’ Rose seethed, quite unable to settle in her distress.

  ‘Sadly, Mama does exercise rather too much control over her elder son. And she is more likely the source of the problem.’

  Rose looked at him in stunned disbelief. ‘Are you saying that Lydia would go so far as to hurt Robbie in order to satisfy her greed? She may be a difficult woman, but I find that hard to believe.’

  Bryce flung himself back against the pillows, letting out a heavy sigh. ‘I do so wish I could share your confidence. Yet I look at the misfortune which befell all her previous husbands, and I can’t help but wonder …’

  Before Rose had time to even begin to absorb the implications of this remark, he pulled her into his arms on a short laugh. ‘No doubt my imagination is running riot now. I do tend to expect the worst where my mother and brother are concerned. It’s a fault in me, as much as them. I’m sure you’re worrying unduly about the horse, but I’ll do some snooping, ask a few questions here and there. And I agree, Jago does behave at times as if he were some sort of despot. If you saved the Carwyn family from eviction, then I’m glad to hear it. They did not deserve to be turned out of their home. You are wise to keep a close eye on everything Jago does on the estate. You have that right, as Robbie’s mother. Speak to Wrayworth about the possibility of putting in a manager to replace him, if that would make you easier in your mind. As for Robbie, he will come to no harm. Isn’t he thoroughly spoilt at every turn?’

  He kissed her then, making her heart sing as his loving always did. ‘Let us always remember that no matter what difficulties Jago may present with his selfish, grasping ways, underneath all of that bravado he is an embittered, lonely soul. While we have our love, and each other to trust and rely upon. Does that not make us rich, and strong?’

  Nestling close, Rose could only smile. ‘Of course we are; my strength comes from your love.’

  The following morning Rose took a walk into the village to call again upon the solicitor. This time Mr Wrayworth was less amenable to her concerns. ‘I am dismayed to hear of this accident, and thankful the boy is safe, but what exactly are you suggesting? I cannot believe that Master Jago would go so far as to attempt to hurt the boy in order to gain an inheritance which isn’t even rightly his.’

  ‘Who else would gain by cutting through the legs?’ Rose persisted.

  ‘My dear lady, that is only surmise on your part. Without evidence it would be impossible to make any charge against Master Jago stick.’

  Proof was not something she’d considered. Rose’s heart seemed to plummet. ‘There must be something I can do. I have to protect my child’s future, and his life too, it seems.’

  ‘Are you sure you aren’t seeing problems where none, in fact, exist?’ the solicitor asked, as kindly as he could.

  There was a silence, one in which Rose attempted to look at the situation more objectively. Mr Wrayworth was taking very much the same attitude as Bryce, and it may be that they could be right and she was entirely wrong. But Rose very much doubted that was the case. Yet how could she prove Jago culpable without explaining what happened on that cliff top soon after she’d arrived. And if she told them about that incident now, what reason could she give for not reporting it at the time? Rose doubted it would be wise to admit she’d used the threat as a means to blackmail Jago into allowing tenants to be spared from eviction. Wouldn’t that only make herself appear as guilty as he? Or that her fear of Jago had a deeper source.

  And were she to call the police now, like Mr Wrayworth and her own husband they would assume her to be simply a hysterical mother. If the authorities were to put the blame on anyone, rather than class it as an unfortunate accident, it would be the carpenter in the village who had made the toy in all good faith. And she mustn’t allow that to happen to an honest man. So what other options did she have?

  ‘I believe the threat to be real, but, as you say, I cannot prove it. Is it a possibility that I could insist Jago steps down from his post as estate manager? I really do not like the way he runs things.’

  The solicitor steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair while he considered the question. ‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea. He is not, I will concede, an easy man to deal with; nevertheless, the estate remains sound under his management, if you take into consideration the difficult economic climate under which farming is suffering at the moment. You must also remember that Sir Ralph’s will states Penver Court must continue to provide a home for his two stepsons and widow for as long as they need one. Of course, if you wished Master Bryce to take over, now that you are married, the question could be discussed further. But even as your husband he has few rights. Have you considered that they could perhaps share the work?’

  ‘Bryce is partner in a chandler’s in Fowey. He has no wish to be involved in the running of Penver Court. What about me?’

  ‘Dear lady, I am quite certain that you are a very capable person, but even so, managing an estate of that size is a monumental task, which I politely suggest would be quite beyond your scope.’

  He softened the harshness of this comment with a warm smile, and Rose had to agree with him. She wouldn’t have the first idea where to begin. ‘But I can continue to keep a watching brief, ask questions, talk to tenants, all of that?’

  ‘Of course, and quite right too. Take the child with you on your visits, as I’m sure they would love to meet their new baronet.’

  Rose’s face lit up. ‘That’s an excellent idea. I will do that.’

  ‘But until your son is old enough to take up the reins himself, I see no reason for change. Not unless there were proof of mismanagement or an attempt on Jago’s part to defraud the estate of money, which is highly unlikely.’

  Rose wasn’t too sure about that. According to Ennor Carwyn, one or two farms and smallholdings had been sold off. But when she mentioned this point, without naming names, to the solicitor, he dismissed it as unimportant.

  ‘Holdings are bought and sold all the time, the least profitable disposed of. Jago is planning to buy other land and property to replace the ones for which he could no longer find a tenant, or are no longer profitable.’

  ‘But what if he doesn’t – buy more land, I mean? What if he spends the money on other things? Perhaps he’s squirrelled the money away for his own personal use in the future?’

  He gave Rose what she could only describe as an old-fashioned look. ‘I see no evidence of profligate living.’ Mr Wrayworth half glanced at the clock, reminding Rose that she was taking up his valuable time. And since she had no proof to back up these accusations, any more than she had over the rocking horse incident, there was clearly no possibility of ousting Jago from his power. Not yet, anyway.

  Bryce began his search in
the stables. If there were any evidence to be found of his brother’s culpability, perhaps in the form of a tool used, it would surely be here. He sincerely hoped he didn’t find any. Although he was fully aware there was nothing his brother would like more than to banish Rose from Penver Court and have it all to himself, to accuse him of attempted murder was a considerable leap. Even so, Jago must realise that his days in charge of the estate were numbered, that in just a few years’ time young Robbie would be old enough to take over for himself. In the meantime, the boy had a mother, and also a father now, to protect both him and his inheritance.

  He decided to speak to Joe, who was grooming one of the horses. Bryce sauntered over, not wishing to appear too eager or curious. He began by admiring the horse and checking his feet.

  ‘I remember his dam, terrific little mare she was. This son of hers would do well on Newton Abbot racetrack, I reckon.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right there,’ Joe said with a chuckle. ‘Godolphin does like to be in front. Were you wanting a ride, sir? I could tack him up for you.’

  ‘Good idea. I could do with some fresh air and exercise.’ And as Joe reached for the saddle, he idly asked, ‘Has anyone ever been in here who shouldn’t, or in the barn working on something? Or asked to borrow a tool?’

  Joe regarded him with a steady gaze. ‘Such as a saw, you mean?’

  ‘Well, yes, anything of that nature.’

  ‘Not to my knowledge, but then I’m not here all the time. There would be ample opportunity while I’m driving Lady Tregowan out for someone to make use of the workshops. John isn’t always around either; like me he has other duties. Are you looking for whoever did for the young master’s toy?’ Joe was no fool.

  ‘I’m quite sure it must have been an accident, but one must consider all possibilities.’ There was no pretence over the reason for his questions.

  ‘Do you have anyone in mind, sir?’

  ‘I really couldn’t say. Do you have any ideas yourself?’

  There was a long pause while Joe fastened the girth straps, then fitted the head collar. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but since you ask, I’d say that if you were to suspect that your brother, for instance, might have damaged the little chap’s rocking horse, then I’d agree he’s the most likely candidate.’

  Bryce considered the fellow with a narrowed gaze. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because he’s the one with the motive.’

  ‘And what would that be, exactly? I ask because I would welcome a less prejudiced viewpoint upon my brother.’

  Joe rubbed a hand over his face, then through his hair, as long and tousled as ever as he so hated going to the barber. ‘He doesn’t believe the child is the true baronet, does he?’

  ‘No, I don’t believe he does.’

  ‘Well, happen he’s right to have doubts.’

  Bryce drew in a sharp breath. ‘Are you seriously telling me that there is good reason to doubt the veracity of Robbie’s claim to the title? How can you suggest such a thing? Were you not employed by my wife from before the boy’s birth?’

  ‘Happen that’s why I can say it with some conviction. Master Jago is right – the boy is illegitimate and his mother is a fraud, exactly as your brother suspects.’

  The cold fury that raged through Bryce at these words almost robbed him of breath, but he managed, at last, to speak. ‘So I was right, you were her lover.’

  Joe shook his head, fervently denying the charge. ‘Nay, it weren’t me, more’s the pity.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can believe you, but whether that’s the truth or not, you realise you are accusing my wife of a crime, of passing off her son as the baronet when he isn’t. Is that what you intended to say? And take care how you answer.’

  Joe looked at the man who had stolen his beloved Rose. ‘Aye,’ he said, after a long moment. ‘That’s what I intended to say.’ And crossing his fingers against the lie, he continued, ‘She’s deceived you all.’

  Disappointed over not being allowed to oust Jago from his position, Rose decided to grasp the nettle so far as the house was concerned and devote herself to improving the living conditions of the servants, despite being warned off by Lydia. Perhaps if she concentrated on this it would take her mind off these other worries. ‘Tilly, will you show me again, please, the rooms where the maids sleep.’

  ‘Ooh, milady, it’s more than my job’s worth, and it’s vital I don’t lose that. Mam and Dad might have been given a stay of execution, as it were, thanks to your efforts on their behalf, but how long that will last is anybody’s guess.’

  Rose frowned. ‘Jago hasn’t made any more threats, has he?’

  ‘Oh no, milady, but Dad is afeared he might decide to put the rents up next quarter day. We can’t be sure how long his patience will last.’

  Rose agreed. ‘Nevertheless, I mean to investigate the maids’ living quarters, and the menservants’ rooms too. But in view of your concerns I shall not involve you.’

  She sent for the butler. Where was the point in being the young Lady Tregowan if she could not wield even the smallest amount of power? Rose offered him her most winning smile. ‘Mr Rowell, I hope you are well?’

  Unused to receiving enquiries about the state of his health the butler mumbled that he was very well, thank you kindly. ‘May I be of service in any way, milady?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I should like to take a tour of the servants’ quarters. Spare me nothing, I wish to see everything, every bedroom, bathroom, dormitory, lavatory, every nook and cranny.’

  The butler could not have appeared more shocked had she asked to view his unmentionables. ‘My Lady, far be it for me to question this decision, but—’

  ‘Then don’t. I have quite made up my mind. Nothing you say will dissuade me.’ Rowell opened his mouth as if about to protest further, but again Rose forestalled him. ‘I have notebook in hand, so that I can jot down whatever improvements I feel are necessary.’ She waved it at him with a little flirtatious smile. ‘Lead on, Macduff, if you please.’

  He seemed to soften a little at her joke. ‘If you insist, milady.’

  They began the inspection with the menservants’ quarters, whose rooms were even worse than the maids, with less space between beds, threadbare covers, and fewer hooks on the walls. There were no chairs, save for one under the window upon which a jug and basin stood, no rugs on the floor, and cobwebs laced every corner as if the place hadn’t been cleaned in months, or even years.

  ‘This is quite dreadful!’ Rose said, genuinely shocked. ‘I’ve seen hovels for the poor that were better than this.’

  He glanced at her in surprise. ‘Have you indeed, milady?’ Rose realised she’d made a silly mistake, yet again, and could only hope he would assume she meant she’d seen such places while undergoing charity work. The butler insisted on calling the housekeeper to show her around the maids’ quarters. ‘Gentlemen are not allowed in that area, milady.’

  Mrs Quintrell came, lips tightly buttoned and a challenging look in her eye. ‘I’ve never had no complaints before about accommodation, so if any of the maids have been speaking out of turn, I should like to know who it is, milady.’

  ‘None of the maids have said a word, let alone complained,’ Rose assured her. ‘This decision to investigate is mine entirely, although I admire their fortitude. It must be freezing cold in these dormitories at night, and fairly comfortless preparing for bed with only the stub of a candle, if you’re lucky, to light you.’

  ‘The Dowager Lady Tregowan increased the ration for candles, milady,’ Mrs Quintrell remarked, rather tartly.

  ‘Excellent! And what about blankets?’

  ‘One is provided for each occupant. They are free to bring another from home so long as they wash it themselves.’

  ‘And do they take advantage of this?’

  ‘Very few, so I assume they are quite warm enough.’

  ‘Mightn’t the reason be that they don’t have any blankets to spare which they can bring from home, or else they don’t
have the time in their daily duties to wash them? Would you say that is more likely the case?’

  ‘It may well be, milady, I really couldn’t say.’ The woman was giving nothing away, merely folded her arms across her considerable chest and glowered.

  Rose battled on, politely enquiring why the beds were so close together, why there were no cupboards or drawers for clothes. ‘Why cannot they at least bring their own box with them?’ The reason, of course, was lack of space. ‘But why are there so many beds in each room?’ Rose asked on a sigh of exasperation. ‘There would be more space if they weren’t so overcrowded.’

  No answer came, so Rose was obliged to repeat it. ‘Are there too many servants employed here, or too few rooms? Which is it?’

  ‘You would need to ask the Dowager Lady Tregowan as to why more rooms are not made available, milady. I really couldn’t say.’

  Rose opened her eyes wide. ‘Are you saying that there are suitable rooms not currently being used? Empty rooms?’

  ‘I believe that might be the case.’

  ‘Either it is the case or it isn’t. Don’t try my patience too much, Mrs Quintrell, I am rapidly running out of it. Are there empty rooms available in the house or not?’

  The older woman’s cheeks had grown quite pink, so that Rose almost felt sorry for her. She was but the messenger, after all, not the policy maker. ‘I believe so,’ she mumbled.

  ‘I would appreciate it if you showed them to me.’

  ‘But milady—’

  ‘At once.’

  A full inspection revealed that there were any number of empty rooms, most lacking in beds or any other sort of furniture, let alone curtains or rugs, and all needing a good clean. But that was easily rectified. When they were done, Rose turned to her guide, the housekeeper’s face by now very red. ‘I take it that the reason for these rooms standing empty is the lack of furniture, along with their filthy state?’

 

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