by Rhys Bowen
She went through to the bedroom and sat beside her sleeping infant. How peaceful and lovely she looked, like a little cherub. Who would look after her if she really was taken to prison? At that moment, there was a tap on her front door and Daisy came in.
“What’s going on, Emily?” she asked. “Mrs Trelawney’s strutting around the kitchen looking like the cat with all the cream. And she said something to Ethel that she knew from day one that that girl would mean trouble, and now she’s getting what she deserves. And I saw a strange motor car driving off.”
“Oh, Daisy.” Emily reached out and took her hand. “Two policemen were here.” And she went on to recount the entire episode.
“Why, that spiteful, old cow!” Daisy exclaimed. “I knew she didn’t like you. She’s said some pretty horrible things about you. But to go to that trouble . . . to make up those stories.”
“The problem is that I can’t really disprove them, can I? I did make a herbal tonic, and she did refuse to drink it at first, and then she sat up, clutched her heart and fainted. Maybe I did make a mistake and one of the things I put in it was too much for her heart. I’m not an expert. I don’t really know what I’m doing . . . But all those ingredients were supposed to be heart restoratives, I swear.” She put her hand up to her mouth as she swallowed back a sob. “And all those nice things she has given me. If she dies, how can I ever prove they were gifts? She always gave them to me when we were alone together in the library, so nobody ever could have witnessed it.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Daisy asked.
“A man is coming down from Scotland Yard. And then . . . then I suppose they’ll take me to prison, and I’ll stand trial, and if the jurors don’t believe me, I’ll hang.”
“Didn’t you say your dad was a judge?”
“Yes, he is. But—”
“Then, for heaven’s sake, write to him. Tell him everything. He will make it right for you.”
“He might not.” Emily looked away.
“He certainly won’t let his daughter hang, will he?”
“I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly. “But how does he know I’m innocent? I’m sure judges’ daughters commit crimes.”
“Has he ever had cause to think you don’t tell the truth?”
“Well, no.”
“There you are then. Sit down. Write him a letter, and we’ll make sure he gets it.”
Emily stood, then shook her head. “I can’t, Daisy. If he loved me, he’d have wanted my happiness, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t have banished his only daughter, whatever she had done.”
“I still think you should give it a try,” Daisy said.
“I’ll think about it,” Emily said.
“I don’t suppose you’ll want to come up to the big house for dinner, will you?”
“I’m supposed to be a prisoner here,” Emily replied. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere near that poisonous woman again.”
“Then I’ll bring you down some food.”
“Don’t,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try to poison me—literally, I mean.” She attempted a laugh, but it failed miserably. “Oh, Daisy, I’m so scared. I don’t think I could eat anything.”
Daisy left her then. The baby awoke, and Emily picked her up mechanically and put her to the breast. “What’s going to happen to you?” she said softly, staring down at that perfect, tiny face.
There were footsteps outside, then a knock at the front door. Emily was in the process of covering herself and putting down the child when whoever it was came in.
“Emily, it’s Alice,” the voice called. “Daisy’s just told me. I’ve brought you some soup from the pub. And a glass of brandy. I thought you’d need it.” She came through to the bedroom and stood looking down at Emily with pity.
“Oh, love, what an awful shock,” she said. “How could that woman ever have said those things?”
“I don’t know, Alice,” Emily replied. “Maybe she really does think I poisoned her mistress. Maybe she really thinks I stole from the house. It’s her word against mine, isn’t it?”
“Lady Charlton’s not dead yet, is she?”
Emily shook her head. “No. I went to see her with her grandson. He promised to give me any news.”
“Her grandson? He came back then?”
“It was pure chance. He was reading from his poetry with a group of friends at Exeter Cathedral. I went to tell him about his grandmother, and he agreed to go and see her. At least I’ve done one thing right.”
“You’ve done a lot that’s right,” Alice retorted. “Don’t you dare say that.”
Emily placed the baby back in the cradle and started to change her nappy as she stared up at her with big serious eyes. “I’m worried, Alice. Have I been really stupid and naive, making my herbal remedies when I really know nothing? Everything is based on someone else’s knowledge. What if they got things wrong? What if they poisoned someone by mistake?”
“You saved this village from the flu,” Alice said. “Don’t ever forget that.”
Emily shook her head, but could find nothing to say.
“Now,” Alice said. “Have you written to your father yet? Daisy said you didn’t want to.” “He may not want to help me,” Emily replied. “He didn’t earlier. He didn’t seem keen to welcome me home after Robbie died. And then he made it quite clear . . .”
“When you told him you were expecting?”
Emily nodded, not looking up from changing her daughter.
“What exactly did he say?”
Emily hesitated. “Well, I didn’t tell them I was expecting. I wanted to, but then my mother launched into a tirade about a neighbour’s girl who had brought disgrace on her family and had to be sent away, and my father agreed with her. So I kept quiet.”
“Emily Bryce, are you saying to me that you never actually told them?”
“How could I? I’d just heard that they would have banished that girl forever. I assumed they’d say the same to me. I didn’t want to hear the words coming from their mouths.”
“Oh, Emily, love.” Alice put a hand on her shoulder. “People say a lot of things about other people. They enjoy passing judgement to feel superior. But when it’s their own child . . . well, then it’s different, isn’t it? You write him a letter immediately, and I’ll take it to him in the morning. I’ll bet you ten to one that he’ll want to come to your aid.”
Emily looked up now. “Well, I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose at this point, have I? I’ve already lost the man I love, my reputation, and now I’m about to lose my life. All right. I’ll do it. And I thank you for being so kind, Alice. You’re a good friend. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“Oh, get along with you.” Alice gave her an embarrassed slap. “You’d have done just fine.”
CHAPTER FORTY
The night seemed endless. Emily stared at the ceiling, wondering what it would be like in prison, whether it hurt much when you were hanged. Had Susan Olgilvy felt the same? Had she lain there in the same bed, trying to come to terms with the cold truth that her life was over? As she lay there, she felt a gentle brush against her cheek. For a second, she wondered if it was Robbie’s ghost, coming to say he loved her and was watching over her. But then she realized it was Shadow, not out hunting as usual, but realizing in that uncanny way of his that she needed his company. He curled up against her, purring gently.
“And who is going to look after you, old thing?” she said softly, stroking him.
As the cold light of dawn silhouetted the upland of the moor, she got up, lit the stove and put on the kettle. Bobbie still slept in peaceful bliss in her cradle. There was no sign of Shadow. She wrapped her shawl around her and went out into the garden. Everything was blooming, and sweet scents surrounded her. The first of Mr Patterson’s bees were visiting the flowers. If only I hadn’t been stubborn and had married him, this would never have happened, she thought. Could he be someone she could ask for help now?
Around mid-morning, the big motor car Emily had seen the day before pulled up outside. The original detective inspector was accompanied by another man, as well as his sergeant. Emily let them in. The newcomer was the inspector from Scotland Yard. He was less aggressive in manner than the Devon detective, but Emily sensed his questions were more dangerous. No, she was not qualified or experienced in herbal medicine. She had taken her recipes from old books. She thought that what she was doing was harmless and beneficial. So it was possible that she had, in fact, done harm to the old lady?
“I suppose it is possible,” Emily said, “but I can give you a list of every ingredient and make another batch of the tonic for you to test.”
“You were seen picking foxgloves—a potent heart stimulant.”
“Yes, but I didn’t use them,” Emily said.
“Then why pick them?”
Emily hesitated. “I read that they were efficacious in cases of heart failure, but also dangerous,” she said. “I considered using foxglove, but then decided against it.”
He nodded, stared thoughtfully at the ground, then looked up suddenly. “Why did you come here, Miss Bryce? What made you seek out Lady Charlton? Was she a prior acquaintance of your family?”
“No,” Emily said, warily now. “I was a member of the Women’s Land Army. We were sent here to help with her garden. She and I got along well, and we stayed in this cottage, which hadn’t been used for years. When I needed a place to go after we were released from service, I wondered if she’d let me use this cottage in return for continuing to work in her garden.”
“Why not return home to your family? Do you not have a family?”
“Yes, but . . . ,” Emily began. She was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door. Before she could move, the sergeant went to answer it.
“Is this the residence of Miss Emily Bryce?” a man’s voice demanded.
“That’s right, but . . . ,” the sergeant replied.
“I’m her father, Judge Harold Bryce.” And he pushed past the sergeant into the room.
Emily stared at him in amazement. How could Alice possibly have delivered a letter to him by now? Judge Bryce’s gaze swept around the room, then focused on his daughter. “Emily, what on earth are you doing here? What has been going on?”
Emily stood up and took a step towards her father. She fought against her desire to fling herself into his arms. “Daddy, you got my letter.”
“Letter? I received no letter. In fact, your mother and I have heard nothing from you these past months. Your mother has been worried sick. When we heard nothing from you at Christmas, we contacted the woman in charge of your land army girls and learned that you had all been dismissed for the winter. She said something about you going to live with a friend, so we had no idea where the devil you were. That woman didn’t know. Nobody knew. What in God’s name made you come here?”
“It’s a long story, Daddy, and I’d like to tell you, but these are policemen who think that I tried to kill Lady Charlton when I was only trying to help her.”
“That’s what I heard. The commissioner came to my chambers first thing this morning and said he’d heard talk of an Emily Bryce being arrested for attempted murder. He didn’t think there would be more than one Emily Bryce in the county, so he was sure I’d know about it. Naturally, I didn’t like to admit that we’d not seen hide nor hair of you in months. I got the address and came straight away.”
“You’re the girl’s father?” the Scotland Yard inspector asked. “A judge?”
“I most certainly am. A judge of the Devon assizes. What exactly is my daughter supposed to have done?”
“There are several allegations—she prepared a potion that caused the old woman to have a heart attack. She has been accused of stealing from her, and it has even been suggested that she wanted the old woman dead because she is now mentioned in her will.”
“All nonsense, Daddy. I am incredibly fond of Lady Charlton, as she is of me. Those things they say I stole, they were all gifts from her as thanks for helping her catalogue her collections. And I knew nothing of her will.”
“And this potion?” her father asked.
“I have inherited a herb garden and books on herbal medicine. I have been trying to educate myself. I made what I thought would be a good heart tonic. There was nothing harmful in it, I’m sure. In fact, I have the recipe here, if the gentlemen would care to see it, and I would be happy to make up another batch from the same ingredients.”
Her father was frowning. “Making herbal remedies? I suppose that could be construed as practising medicine without a licence.”
“I was only trying to help,” Emily said. “She said she was getting weaker.”
Judge Bryce turned from his daughter to the two policemen. “Gentlemen, my daughter might be stubborn and inconsiderate, but I have never had an occasion to question her veracity. Nor have I ever seen any sign of avarice or of kleptomania. If she says the items were gifts, then I believe her. Besides, she comes from a comfortable home. Why would she need to steal from an old woman? Why would she care about being mentioned in her will? She will inherit a goodly amount from me one day.” He paused to let this be digested, then continued. “If she says she was trying to help, we must believe her. If she is guilty of anything, it is of ignorance and naiveté in dealing with unfamiliar herbs. Murder, as you very well know, must demonstrate intent.”
“All the same, Judge,” the Scotland Yard man said, “if the old lady dies, then it would not be unreasonable to bring the charge of manslaughter.”
“Only if it is proven that the herb mixture really did contain an ingredient that could have precipitated her death,” Emily’s father replied. “And if she is guilty of manslaughter, then I would say that any doctor whose patient dies after his best intentions should be similarly hauled before the courts.”
“You have a point there, sir,” Inspector Payne muttered. “Of course, you are very well known amongst the Devon County Constabulary—known to be a fair man. We had no idea the young lady was your daughter. Why did you not tell us?” He glared at Emily.
“You didn’t give me any time to explain anything,” Emily said.
The Scotland Yard inspector got to his feet. “Well, I think we’ve done all that we came for today. If you will be good enough to make up another dose of that tonic, then at least we can have it tested and see if it might have contributed to the lady’s heart attack. But as for the attempted murder charge, then I would say, Miss Bryce, that someone has a grudge against you.”
“That may be true,” Emily agreed. “It may also be that the person genuinely felt that I wished her mistress harm. She is not the brightest woman in the world, and is very possessive of her employer.”
“Generous of you.” The inspector nodded. “Perhaps you’ll be good enough to bring in this herbal mixture when you return to Exeter,” he said to Emily’s father.
“I’d be happy to.” He glanced across at his daughter.
When the policemen had gone and the motor car doors had slammed, Emily took hesitant steps towards her father.
“Daddy, you were wonderful,” she said. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He turned to her, smiling now. “I could always put forward a good argument. But in this case, I meant what I said. You have never lied to me that I know of.” He took a deep breath. “Now, if you would tell me what in God’s name you are doing in this hovel. And why you were hiding out from your worried parents all this time. Your mother feared you had committed suicide in gri
ef after your young man was killed, and she blamed herself terribly.”
“I’ll show you why.” Emily walked through the kitchen to the back door, opened it and led her father outside. “That’s why,” she said, and pointed at the pram.
“A baby?” he asked incredulously. “Yours? You have a baby?”
She nodded. “A little girl. She’s three weeks old.”
“That was why you came here? Why on earth didn’t you tell us?”
“Daddy, you made it very clear what you thought of the Morrisons’ daughter when she found herself in my condition. I assumed I would get the same reception. I thought you’d send me away and make me give up my baby, and I didn’t want to bring shame on you.”
“My dear girl,” he said, staring at her now. “Your mother sometimes spouts off with things she doesn’t really mean. She is quick to judge others, as you well know. And the Morrisons’ daughter did have a reputation for being a little too fond of the boys. But you—our only daughter—did you think we would not have come to your aid?”
“Yes, I did. I really did. When you came to take me home when I was working in the fields, and expected me to give up Robbie Kerr, you told me quite clearly that I need not come home again if I chose to disobey you.”
He nodded. “It was hot-headed of me. I think we wanted to frighten you into obeying. We’d never seen you so headstrong before.”
“Because I loved Robbie, and I was going to marry him. He was a good man, Daddy. Frightfully brave. He must have been special, because I was prepared to go all the way to Australia with him.”
“And this is his daughter.” He peered into the pram. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yes. I’ve called her Roberta after him. But right now she’s Bobbie.”
“You must come home right away,” he said. “We’ll get a proper nursemaid for her.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t want to embarrass you both. Mummy would be worried about what people say.”
