A Bachelor Establishment

by Isabella Barclay

A small sound emanated from Lord Ryde and was not missed by Mrs Bascombe.

  ‘No, Sir William. I thank you for your consideration, but I would not prefer to wait in my room. Go on, Georgie. Right from the beginning.’

  ‘Are you sure, Elinor?’ he said, softly.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘In that case, I wonder if I might take up Lord Ryde’s very kind offer of a breakfast brandy.’

  Lord Ryde flicked his eyes to Porlock and nodded.

  ‘Well,’ said Mr Bascombe. ‘Where to begin?’

  Since it was apparent the question was rhetorical, the company remained silent.

  He sipped his brandy and set the glass in front of him with some deliberation. Taking a deep breath and not looking at anyone, he spoke to his glass.

  ‘Ned had been in a foul mood all day so I took myself off. I shouldn’t have done so, but my presence seemed to irritate him all the more, so I took a gun and went after rabbits. I seem to remember I bagged a few. Well, I must have, because I dropped my bag and dirty coat off in the gun room and walked down the corridor to the rest of the house. I could hear Ned long before I saw him.’

  Without looking, he groped for Elinor’s hand. The two of them sat silently, reliving bad memories.

  ‘He was … not behaving well towards Elinor … and I went to intervene. There was an argument. He was very drunk. I … in fact, he was like a man possessed. I did what I could, but he was a big man and he just picked me up by the scruff of the neck … like some mongrel pup … and threw me out of the door. I rolled over and tried to get back into the house and the next thing I knew, he was pointing a pistol at me. Heaven knows where it had come from. He was only about ten feet away. He couldn’t miss. I saw Elinor seize his arm and struggle with him. She shouted at me to run away. I didn’t want to.’ He turned to Elinor and took her hands. At that moment, there were only the two of them in the room.

  ‘I know, Georgie,’ she said softly. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I left you.’

  ‘You had no choice. He would have killed you. Go on. Tell everyone what happened at Ryde House.’

  He sipped at his brandy again.

  I set off into the night, heading for Ryde House. I did consider Greystones, Sir William, but it was too far away and …’

  ‘And old Lord Ryde was probably in a much better position to assist,’ said Sir William gruffly. ‘Good thinking, my boy.’

  Elinor glanced at Lord Ryde, who was pouring himself a brandy.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Mr Bascombe, ‘it was a beastly night and it took me a while to fight my way through the woods. I don’t know what Sugden thought when he saw me. I’m surprised he let me in, given the state of me, but let me in he did. He showed me into the library. The old lord was sitting at his desk as he always was.’

  He turned to Lord Ryde. ‘I know you didn’t get on. How much of that was my fault, I don’t know. You’d gone abroad before I went to live with Ned and Elinor, so we never met. I only know that he received me with great kindness. He sat me by the fire with a brandy and politely continued with what he had been doing until I was able to speak coherently. I was … cold and frightened … It took me a while to pull myself together. I wanted him to go back to Westfield at once, but he pointed out, quite rightly, that it had taken me the better part of two hours to get to Ryde House and that whatever had happened there was likely over with by now. He did say he would ride over first thing in the morning and give Ned to understand that this sort of behaviour was to cease forthwith. He did everything he could to put my mind at ease. I’m sorry, Elinor, but I was just too tired to argue. And quite honestly, on consideration, he couldn’t have gone right at that very moment. I thought he looked very tired and I noticed his hand shaking a little as he pulled out another piece of paper and began to write.

  ‘He sent Sugden to get me some things and told me the best thing I could do was to leave the neighbourhood. Naturally, I protested, but he said Ned wasn’t safe to be around any longer. He would take steps to ensure your safety, Elinor, but he was sending me to up to London, out of the way.

  ‘I … I was pretty scared. I knew no one there. I had no idea what I would do when I got there. I had no money. He said he would write to some people he knew. That I would be taken care of. That he would give me some money and I was to catch the mail coach when it stopped in the village. He gave me some money from the safe.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Lord Ryde. ‘We reach the part of your story that interests me very much. How much money did he give you?’

  ‘He gave me twenty guineas.’

  ‘From the safe?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Which was open?’

  ‘Yes. Not wide open. Just slightly ajar.’

  ‘Did you note the contents of the safe?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘No. I was too busy watching Lord Ryde. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely lift his cashbox. I thought he was ill. I wanted to call Sugden.’

  ‘But you didn’t?’

  ‘He asked me not to.’

  ‘What was he writing?’

  ‘A letter. I watched him seal it.’

  Lord Ryde stared out of the window. Becoming aware of the silence in the room, he gestured. ‘Go on.’

  Mr Bascombe swallowed.

  ‘I donned a coat, a greatcoat, and hat, pocketed the guineas, thanked him profusely, and left.’

  ‘You left? Just like that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did anyone see you leave?’

  ‘No. I went out through the French windows.’

  ‘You didn’t return at all?’

  ‘No. How could I? I had to run to catch the mail.’

  ‘And you did catch the mail?’

  ‘I did, yes.’

  ‘Did anyone witness this?’

  ‘Well, obviously the driver, who was suspicious because I had no luggage. Although God knows where he is now. Given the amount of brandy he was putting away, he’s probably in the ground, but old Jessop was there. The landlord. And the pot boy. No ostler, because they didn’t change the horses, but yes, there were witnesses. But surely all this was investigated at the time?’

  He paused, but Lord Ryde had resumed his contemplation of the wilderness outside and said nothing.

  ‘It was a hell of a journey, begging your pardon, ladies, because my adventures had only just begun. Barely had I alighted from the coach in London, when I was caught up in events yet again. The passengers were dispersing. The inn was packed, and I was famished, so I thought I’d try somewhere else. I’d travelled all day, night was drawing in again, my head was spinning with fatigue and hunger, and I needed somewhere to stay, so off I set. There was a portly gentleman ahead of me. I vaguely remembered him from the coach. He’d been inside and I’d been outside so our paths hadn’t crossed.

  ‘Anyway, I’d barely registered him when two men stepped out of a doorway and clubbed him to the ground. I was so surprised, I acted without thinking – again –’ he added with a rueful smile, ‘and barged in to help. I shouted and ran towards them, making as much noise as I could, and they ran off. I helped the gentleman to his feet. He wasn’t badly hurt and he didn’t live far away, so I took him home. He offered me a meal and a bed for the night, which I gladly accepted.

  ‘To cut a long story short, he was a merchant. A wealthy one, too, with trading interests on the continent and in India. We got to talking the next day and liked the look of each other. He offered me money, which I refused, God knows why, and then he offered me a job.

  ‘Well, you know me, Elinor, a complete dunce at school. I always thought I had the Bascombe brains. Or lack of, but I found I could do it. I had a talent for business. I enjoyed it. I started as a clerk and worked my way up. Two years later, I had a good job in the company, prospects, everything a man could wish for.’

  ‘But George, why did you not write? I was so worried for you. And people were saying such dreadful things about you. Why did you n
ot write and put my mind at rest?’

  ‘I did, Elinor. I wrote five or six times. I never received any reply and after a while, I thought I might be doing more harm than good and so I just stopped.’

  ‘But I never saw any of your letters. Why did I not … oh, of course. Ned.’

  ‘He must have intercepted them. I did write, Elinor. I was so worried for you. I tried to make enquiries, but I didn’t want to make things any worse if perhaps you and he had … you know … a reconciliation.’

  ‘And when enquiries were made in connection with Lord Ryde’s death, my husband lied and said he’d never heard anything from you.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said bitterly, ‘It would suit him very well to have me unable to return to Westfield – or even this country. Living abroad in want and poverty. But then, I was offered the job in India and of course, I seized it with both hands.

  ‘No,’ said Lord Ryde, harshly. ‘Enquiries were made. Why did you not come forward and explain?’

  Mr Bascombe stared at him. ‘If you tell me they were, then I must accept that, I suppose, but it is possible the … net … was not thrown wide enough. While I am sure fashionable London was thoroughly searched for my whereabouts, at the time I was living far across town in a district, which, whilst thoroughly respectable, would certainly have been unknown to those fortunate enough to occupy the more modish part of London. An oversight I daresay, and one I’m sure you would have been able to draw the authorities’ attention to – had you actually been in this country at the time.’

  Lord Ryde made to get up but was somehow prevented from doing so by Porlock, who leaned across him to refill his cup. This simple task seemed to take a while, and by the time he had finished, Mr Bascombe was continuing.

  ‘And so I made a new start in a new country.’

  ‘You’ve been in India all this time?’

  ‘I have indeed. It’s a wonderful country, Elinor. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.’

  ‘Nor I to hear all about it. But what happened next?’

  ‘Well, the company prospered and I was offered a junior partnership. Very junior, but I accepted the offer and for nearly five years, I did very well. For a young man seeking his fortune, India is the place to be. But, once again, fate took a hand. The old gentleman wrote to me from London – his son was growing up and ready to take his place in the company. He offered to buy back the shares and I was happy to sell them. I’d done all right out of him and his company but I was beginning to feel the need to see England again. To come home. So, I sold up and booked a passage on the Athena, departing for England via Cape Town. And that, of course, was where I met the Piries.’

  He stopped, slowly rotating his glass and staring at the content.

  Lord Ryde spoke into the silence. ‘Do continue, Mr Bascombe. I am – I’m sure we all are – absolutely agog to hear what happened next.’

  ‘I boarded the Athena at the end of November and we set sail. The Piries were both aboard. The weather was not particularly bad, but I retired almost immediately with what I thought was sea-sickness and turned out to be some sort of tropical fever. I’d been out there for years and never succumbed before, so I was particularly aggrieved I should fall ill now. The fever took hold and I was, apparently, quite ill. However, my sufferings were mitigated by the attentions of Mrs Bentwater, Major Pirie’s widowed sister. She had, apparently, gained some nursing experience attending her brother on the occasion of a similar fever and with the chaperonage of her maid, offered her services to me. And at the time, jolly glad I was of them, too. However, it must have been during this period that I stupidly babbled of my time here in Rushford, both at Westfield and at Ryde House. In fact, the ship’s surgeon told me afterwards that I had been astonishingly chatty about my personal circumstances.

  ‘Anyway, I awoke from my delirium at Cape Town, to discover that the Piries had left the ship and booked passage on a newer, faster vessel. I thought nothing of it at the time. It was only when we pulled into port after port that I discovered that neither of them had hesitated to pledge my credit to obtain whatever goods and services they required, and used their unfortunately extensive knowledge of my personal circumstances to live the high life. Everywhere I went, the story was the same. I alerted the authorities and booked passage on the fastest ship I could find. My fear was that they would somehow use their knowledge to gain access to Westfield. I confess, I did not consider Ryde House to be in any danger.

  ‘I finally pulled into England, and pursued them as best I could across country. And I would have caught them too. I was so close, but just outside of Rushford, I suffered a small relapse. Nothing serious, but it kept me in my bed for twenty-four hours. I awoke to find everyone talking of events at Ryde House. I enquired after the nearest Justice of the Peace, discovered he was here, and followed on as quickly as I could. And that’s it, Elinor. That’s my story.’

  He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  Porlock bent over him.

  ‘May I fetch you anything else, sir?’

  ‘What? Oh, no, thank you, Porlock. I’m perfectly well now and having discharged my duty, I’ll be off the premises and back to Westfield. What of you, Elinor? Are you fit to travel?’

  ‘One moment, please,’ said Lord Ryde, and the mood of the room changed again. ‘We have been treated to a detailed account of events subsequent to your departure from Ryde House, but I’d like to return, if I may, to the events prior to that. Tell me again about the safe.’

  Mr Bascombe stared at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I wish it.’

  ‘No, I mean, why do you wish it?’

  ‘Because I wish to learn its contents.’

  ‘Well I can’t tell you what the usual contents were, but that night, I think it was just the cash box which Lord Ryde used for everyday expenses and the servants’ quarter-day wages.’

  ‘Really? So the jewels, the estate documents, the considerable sum of money – all that completely escaped your notice?’

  Mr Bascombe stared at him in amazement. ‘Of course they did. What jewels? What money?’

  ‘The jewels and money to which you helped yourself prior to your departure from Ryde House. This London merchant story of yours is just that – a tale hastily concocted to account for the sudden acquisition of a great deal of money. You sudden flight to India bears me out.’

  ‘What sudden flight? I was two years with Mr Jonas Croyde of Croyde, Mellish, and Struther of Cheapside before leaving for India. Ask anyone.’

  Sir William intervened. ‘You can prove this, Mr Bascombe?’

  ‘Of course I can,’ he said, indignantly. ‘And in the event of any official investigation, I shall be happy to furnish the details. To the proper authorities, of course. Not to any chance-met busybody seeking to cover up his own mismanagement with far-fetched tales of theft.’

  Lord Ryde pushed back his chair ‘By God, Bascombe. If there were not ladies present I would give you the thrashing you deserve.’

  Mr Bascombe flushed furious red with rage. ‘You might try, I suppose. And in deference to your age, I might let you land a punch or two, out of charity.’

  Both Mr Martin and Sir William were on their feet, but before they could move, Elinor was between the protagonists.

  ‘Enough! Have we not endured enough over these last seven days? Please – both of you – enough.’

  She sank slowly back into her chair, very white and trembling.

  ‘My dear Elinor.’ Lady Elliot bustled forwards, shooting dagger looks at every unfortunate man in the vicinity. ‘Please try to sip a little water. That’s very good, my dear. And a little more. Well done.’

  She looked at Lord Ryde.

  ‘May I suggest, my lord, since the drawing room still resembles a battlefield at this moment, we should repair to the library? Porlock, I think some fresh tea and coffee would be most beneficial.’

  Porlock murmured and withdrew.

  ‘Wait!’ said Mr Bascombe, suddenly. ‘What do you
mean – the drawing room resembles a battlefield?’

  Lord Ryde was at his most haughty. ‘I’m sorry if most of our conversation has gone over your head, Mr Bascombe. Prior to your arrival, we had been discussing last night’s housebreaking.’

  ‘Are you saying they broke into your drawing room? But why?’

  ‘A very good question, Mr Bascombe,’ said Sir William. ‘That is among the many questions to which I have not yet received satisfactory answers.’

  Mr Bascombe leaped to his feet. ‘Not the library? They didn’t enter the library?’

  ‘No,’ said Lord Ryde, slowly. ‘Why should they?’

  ‘Because that’s where the safe is.’

  ‘That old thing was thrown out many years ago. Anything of value in this house has long since been disposed of.’

  ‘But – oh my God, how can this be? Is it possible you don’t know?’

  The two men stared at each other. Mr Bascombe was visibly agitated. His flushed face held an expression of the greatest astonishment.

  ‘Know what?’ said Lord Ryde hoarsely. ‘What don’t I know?’

  ‘Show me. Show me the drawing room. At once.’

  He ran to the door. Porlock, returning from giving instructions to the kitchen, was unceremoniously thrust aside.

  Lord Ryde was hot on his heels, closely followed by Mr Martin, who, in his excitement, forgot to give way to Sir William, who in his turn, elbowed his way through the door, closely followed by Mrs Bascombe, Miss Fairburn, and Lady Elliott. Porlock, nearly bursting with curiosity, brought up the rear.

  On reaching the drawing room, Mr Bascombe paused in the doorway for a moment, surveying the wreckage. The windows were shuttered, but enough light found its way through the chinks to show a disordered room full of shattered chairs and discarded fire irons. Lady Elliott modestly averted her eyes from the blood-stained fire tongs.

  Presiding over the chaos, the disapproving portrait of old Lord Ryde hung wildly askew.

  For one moment, everyone surveyed the mess in silence. Elinor held her breath, convinced that something important was about to happen.

  And it did.

  Mr George Bascombe began to laugh. He sagged against the doorpost and laughed. He leaned forwards, put his hands on his knees, and gasped for breath. For a moment, Mrs Bascombe wondered whether his fever had returned.