“That is very progressive of you.”
“Yes. Well, I tried acting like a caveman but I kept hitting myself in the eye with my club.”
Her answering laugh was worth the self-deprecation. Indeed, he would be quite happy to play the fool to hear more. Alas, they did have rather more important things to be doing, so indulgence of his desires would have to wait.
“I’d like the trunk moved to my sitting room if possible, so I can go through the contents again at my leisure.”
“I will have it done while we are out.”
Thea closed the trunk and went to the wardrobe, quickly going through the pockets of the dresses hanging there.
“Just in case her neighbour kept a dress for herself,” she explained. Next she lifted the thin mattress off the bed frame, opened the drawers, half of which were empty since they had been Mary’s, but she quickly rummaged through the roommate’s belongings. Since neither woman possessed very much, the search was relatively quick.
“Have you finished?” he asked.
“I think so. I can come back if I need to.”
“Then shall we go? Breakfast should be ready any moment.”
“Perfect timing, I have worked up quite an appetite.”
Chapter Six
They ate breakfast with Cole and Thea’s fathers since no one else was up. Cole Sr. hardly seemed up to the task of eating, his movements were slow and sluggish, giving the appearance that he was ready to fall asleep at any moment. He didn’t eat much, just a slice of toast and jam.
Thea couldn’t help studying him discreetly. He did look very frail, his white hair was thinning, he had dark shadows under his eyes and he seemed as if he had lost weight recently so while not thin, his skin sagged around his face and neck. His movements seemed almost painful and she wondered if his lethargy was perhaps caused by a pain reliever, most of which contained opium.
He appeared to be a good deal older than his son and while it may be partially due to his illness, for he was suffering from more than simply old age and frailty, he looked to be in his sixties, perhaps even seventies. It wasn’t unusual for a man not to marry until he was thirty and if Cole was the last child, his father could have been approaching forty when he was born. To have fathered two further children with his second wife at his age… Well it almost felt unnatural to Thea.
Conversation at the table was stilted and Cole and Thea left as soon as they had eaten. The grooms were waiting with the horses and they mounted and rode off.
“You have a fine horse there,” Cole said as they rode.
He was small for a horse, just over fourteen hands, but he was perfectly formed.
“Isn’t he marvellous?” she reached forward and patted his neck. “Papa gave him to me for my twentieth birthday. His name is Pitch.”
“As in pitch black?”
“Exactly. Papa said he matched my hair and being Arabian, he would match my spirit too.”
“Is he wilful?”
“He is with many, and even me on occasion, but we understand each other. I schooled him, so I know him even better than the grooms. Do you like horses?”
“What gentleman doesn’t? They are fine, noble beasts.”
“Perhaps, but they are also intelligent, and playful at times.”
“You have a great affinity for animals,” Cole noted.
“I do.”
“Well, it’s about half an hour to the town at a walk, would you be up for a race? Just to the road.”
“You are already in my debt to the tune of one dare, Sir.”
“Ah, but this would be for pride, winner gets gloating rights.”
“Is it safe to ride to the road?”
“We’ll set the finish line at the gateposts, they are a good thirty feet or more from the main road.”
“Very well, when do we start?”
“Now!” He urged his horse into a gallop, leaving Thea in his dust for a moment. Of course, once she got going, that only spurred her on to win!
Cole’s horse was good but although smaller, at four years old, Pitch was in his prime. He was also devoted to Thea and he had a lot of heart. They began to gain on Cole and he urged his horse forward with everything he had. It was a close run thing but as they crossed the gateposts, Thea was a good neck ahead.
They pulled up quickly and turned in a circle to avoid the road as the horses slowed.
“I win,” she grinned at him.
“Indeed you do. In fact, had I realised how pleasant it was to ride behind you, I might have been inclined to throw the race.”
“That is scandalous!” she informed him, although her chastisement was rather spoiled by her smile.
Side by side, they resumed their journey.
“Thank you,” she said suddenly.
“What for?” he seemed genuinely perplexed.
“For not throwing the race.”
“I rather thought you would be angry at me for cheating at the start.”
“A young lady spends much of her life being pleased and placated. Most gentlemen would have allowed a lady to win and rarely does anyone believe in us enough to issue a real challenge, be it racing, cards or chess. So thank you, for believing in me enough to give me a real challenge.”
“I think only a fool would underestimate you, Thea, and while I am many things, I like to think that I am nobody’s fool.”
“Indeed.” She smiled.
***
When they arrived at Doctor Kerridge’s house, his wife and nurse ushered them inside, informing them that the Doctor was already in surgery. Thea professed a desire to observe but Mrs Kerridge forbade it.
Cole stepped forward, intending to intervene on her behalf but she spoke before he could.
“Mrs Kerridge, I realise that most people believe ladies to be delicate creatures, incapable of handling anything even slightly daunting. That however, is a myth and since I’m sure you have attended more than one birth, you more than most, know exactly what women and ladies are capable of enduring.”
“But-”
“I also studied anatomy at the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, watching three cadavers being dissected and even dissecting a human heart myself. If such learned men allowed me to attend their classes, what exactly makes you more knowledgeable of what I can and cannot do, than they?”
Mrs Kerridge appeared angry but wisely held her tongue.
“I’ll fetch you both an apron.”
“Thank you.”
Cole was tempted to tell her that she could have delivered her diatribe in better language, tried to cajole rather than confront, then he realised that he would be little better than Mrs Kerridge. That didn’t mean that he was wrong, he was a firm believer that you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar (a favourite saying of his mother’s) but Thea had probably had such arguments frequently during her life; people did so long to tell ladies what they could and could not do, so she was perhaps tired of defending her rights.
“I’m still surprised they let you view a dissection,” Cole commented. “Although given that display, perhaps I shouldn’t be.”
“I wanted to study medicine but they wouldn’t admit a woman. It took a year of calling in every favour my family was owed, and a sizeable donation, before they allowed Mother and I to watch their classes.”
Mrs Kerridge returned. “Here, it’s all I have got left.” She handed them each an apron.
His apron was clean while Thea’s was covered in dried blood.
“Here,” he handed her his but she was already tying her own.
“The blood is a mark of a good trade,” she explained. “No surgeon worth his salt wears a clean one.”
Mrs Kerridge harrumphed; clearly the bloody garment had been meant to put Thea off.
“What’s that smell?” he asked as he tied his apron and looked up to see Thea slipping something into her pocket.
“Ready,” she said before he could ask about it.
“This way.” Mrs Kerridge l
ed them down a short corridor and stopped beside a door. “In there.” She walked off, leaving them to enter on their own.
Thea tapped on the door and waited for someone to call, “Come in!”
Dr Kerridge looked taken aback as she entered and was about to speak when he noticed the bloody overalls she wore, which rendered him speechless.
“Dr Kerridge, I’m Lady Copley, the one who suggested looking for an apoplectic seizure.” She looked to Lord Small, who had volunteered to stay with the body, and nodded. “I have the list of medical books we spoke about last night, which document apoplectic seizures.”
“Right, well,” Dr Kerridge appeared thrown. “I have cut the skull and am just about to remove the bone.” He turned towards the table then turned back. “Are you quite sure you want to watch this?”
“Quite sure,” she affirmed.
He hesitated, looked to Cole then Lord Small and finally, with a loud exhale, resumed his examination. “There’s buckets by the sink, just in case.”
Lord Small was over the other side of the room and at such an angle that he couldn’t easily see what was happening to the crown of Mr Lanning’s head. Cole couldn’t blame him, the sight before him was gruesome, to say the least.
Were it just the sight, he would probably have been fine but as Dr Kerridge removed the skull, revealing the brain, the stench of decay worsened and he retched. He was able to damp down his reactions twice but the third time, he barely made it to the bucket in time. Taking it with him, he stumbled out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Thea said, as his breakfast made an unwelcome reappearance. He was unable to answer her for quite a few moments but when his heaves stopped, he took a handkerchief out and dabbed at his lips.
Mrs Kerridge ran into the corridor, looking surprised to see that it was Cole who was ill. Her smug expression fled, replaced by concern.
“Would you like some water, Sir.”
“Please.”
She left and Cole put the bucket down, breathing heavily.
“I’m sorry,” Thea repeated.
“This was hardly your fault,” he answered.
“But it was,” she said, her voice hesitant and unsure, qualities he had not heard from her before. “At the school of physicians, it was a rite of passage, you see. Everyone gets sick their first time, everyone, but to see if you have the stamina to be a doctor, they don’t tell you how to stop it. They didn’t tell me until I had been ill three times. You have to prove yourself first. I thought that if I carried on the practice, I’d feel like a part of the fraternity but apparently, I cannot watch someone I like suffering, not even if it is tradition.”
She stepped closer, until only a few inches separated them and took a small bottle from her pocket.
“Eucalyptus oil,” she said. “The scent is so overpowering that it blocks most of the stench of decay.”
She pulled the cork from the bottle and putting her middle finger over the top, upended it. Raising her hand, she dabbed the oil on his upper lip, below each nostril.
Her hand hesitated, unwilling to lower but hesitant to touch him again. He raised his own hand and grasped hers gently.
Were his mouth not filled with a bilious taste, the intimacy of the moment might have tempted him to kiss her, but even he had better sense than that. Still, the gentle pressure of her soft fingertip was a promise of things to come, he hoped.
“Your skin will warm the oil and by the time we return, your nose will be full of it’s scent,” she explained.
“Thank you.”
“I’m so sorry, Cole.”
“You weren’t to know.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you for not laughing at me.”
“I could never laugh at you.” She said with confidence.
He breathed deeply, rather liking the scent of her oil but at that moment, a rather pointed cough signalled Mrs Kerridge’s return.
“Your water, Sir.” She thrust the glass towards him; having caught them in an intimate embrace seemed to have soured her to them both now.
“Thank you, Mrs Kerridge.” With some reluctance, he let go of Thea’s hand and stepped away. She pushed the cork back in the bottle and replaced it in her pocket.
Cole sipped the water, rinsing his mouth and spitting into the bucket a few times, and Thea turned her back to give him the illusion of privacy. Mrs Kerridge had left them.
When they returned to the room, the doctor had removed the brain. On the far side of the room, Mr Small had moved to and opened a window, and was keeping his back turned to them.
“Ah, there you are. You were right, my dear!” Dr Kerridge greeted them, now with a warm smile. “See here?” He lifted the bowl that the brain was resting in. “How the underside of the brain is discoloured?”
Cole thought it best not to look too closely but when he dared to draw a shallow breath, was pleased to smell almost no decay.
“Fascinating,” Thea said, and a quick glance confirmed that she was leaning in close. “I’ve never seen an example in person, only descriptions.”
“I confess, it never even occurred to me. I’m feel slightly foolish admitting this but given all the recent tragedy at the Abbey, I was almost ready to believe in the supernatural.”
“I confess, I get the occasional shiver too.”
“I haven’t located which artery the bleed came from, and given the speed of his demise, it must have been an artery, but I suppose that hardly matters. With the funeral so soon, I should already be preparing the body for burial.”
“Of course,” Thea exuberance dulled somewhat as she remembered that this wasn’t just a science experiment, this was a man with a family and friends who were mourning him.
“Your enthusiasm does you credit, my dear, you would have made a fine physician.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Perhaps one day, they will let me.”
“Keep proving men like me wrong and one day, they will.” He began putting the brain back into the skull.
“I assume you checked for head injuries first?” Thea asked.
“Oh yes, nothing there, not even old injuries.”
“Then it was definitely a natural death.”
“As unusual as it was, yes, quite natural.”
“Please be sure to say as much to Mrs Lanning, would you? I explained it but I’m sure having it confirmed will ease her mind further.”
“Of course. Feel free to get away if you’ve places to be.”
Cole saw the doctor shoot a look in his direction. “Please, don’t feel you have to leave on my account,” he told Thea.
“We have what we came for,” Thea smiled. “We know beyond a shadow of a doubt what killed him, I see no reason to remain. Thank you, Doctor.”
“My pleasure, my dear.”
“Come, Mr Cole, our business is done.”
He saw little need to keep arguing and truth be told, he was glad to leave this room.
***
Being a woman, Thea wasn’t allowed to attend Mr Lanning’s funeral, and Cole opted not to either, believing that he was of more use helping her find Mrs Garwood’s killer.
When they returned to the house, Lord Copley was charming some of the ladies over a game of croquet on the lawn. Cole dismissed himself to check on Mrs Lanning, and Thea stayed with her father. As play continued, he held himself a little aloof from the group, so that he and Thea could talk more freely.
“Have you discovered anything?” she asked.
“Nothing concrete but I have begun forming suspicions,” he answered.
“Oh?”
“I stayed at the breakfast table until everyone had come and gone; I don’t think I’ve ever drunk so much coffee.”
“Papa!” She knew he liked to draw things out and tease her, but it annoyed Thea no end.
“I have no firm basis for this but I believe Mrs Cole and Mr Garwood are having an affair.”
Thea turned to him in shock.
“Surely they would not be so obvious in her husband’
s house and after his wife’s death.”
“They weren’t obvious,” Copley assured her. “In fact I’m basing my assertion on the fact that they hardly ever interact.”
“That’s a little farfetched, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps but in case you hadn’t noticed, Selena Cole is an incorrigible flirt. She has played up to every man here, including me, and even those gentlemen who are much older than she. The only gentleman that she is not coquettish with are her husband and Mr Garwood.”
“You’ve observed her and Mr Cole together?”
“This morning at breakfast, after you left. As I said however, I have absolutely no proof, only suspicions.”
Thea knew that her father’s intuition was worth listening to, even if she didn’t understand it.
“Assuming you are correct, I’m not sure how it helps.”
“It could give Garwood motive to kill his wife.”
“Yes but he has an alibi; he was never alone after his wife retired to bed. I suppose he could have paid someone else to do the deed, but who? And how did they get into and out of the house again?”
“Both good questions,” Lord Copley agreed.
“Have you learned anything else?”
“Small tidbits.”
It was his turn to play then, so he stepped away to play his shot, then returned to Thea.
“What else have you observed?” she asked.
“Mrs Buchan appears to dislike her sister in law, Lady Buchan, immensely. Lady Eleanor, Lord Grady’s daughter, has a great deal of interest in both Lord Buchan’s son and Cole, although I believe Cole is her preference. Emily Small seems to harbour an affection for a boy from a neighbouring family; when it was mentioned that the boy’s parents, Lord and Lady Reynolds, would be at the séance this evening, she became very flushed. She also claims a great deal of affection for Selena Cole, but I believe that is a lie.”
“Why would she lie about it?”
“I think that once this ordeal is over, she would like to stay on at the house, probably to be near the neighbour’s boy. She is showering Selena with praise and affection, but Selena is rather fickle and spiteful in her judgements, and Emily appears to be using every ounce of self-restraint not to tell her how she really feels. Lady Small appears to be doing everything she can to dissuade her daughter from pursuing the friendship, but she seems unaware that Emily is smitten with the neighbour.”
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