“Or she did this without knowing what she did?” Lucy said. Even to her own ears, her suggestion sounded weak.
Dr. Larimer shook his head. “You have seen her in a fit, Lucy. She is not sensible, which I can say with certainty. But she could not even walk of her own volition or drink a cup of water when a fit is on her.” He sighed. “No, if she did brandish a knife in the manner we are purporting, then I think she would have been in possession of her senses.”
The constable nodded. “The Lord Mayor is pressing me for action. I think he would be happy enough, with the evidence that is suggested by Miss Belasysse’s demeanor, to place her under arrest.”
“Oh, no!” Lucy protested. Even though Newgate had burnt down in the Great Fire, she could not bear the thought of Miss Belasysse being cast into jail. Her own brother had stood trial for murder a few years back, and the whole experience had been quite terrifying.
Constable Duncan shifted uncomfortably back and forth on his feet. “Her actions are questionable, surely you must agree.”
“Please,” Lucy said. “She is not well. You saw it yourself. Her fits.”
The physician nodded. “I am rather afraid that if left unattended, the poor woman would die of the falling sickness in that terrible place. You would be condemning her to death, just by placing her under arrest, even before she came to trial.”
“She is the daughter of a baron,” Mr. Sheridan said, walking back into the room. Evidently he had caught the end of their conversation. “That has been confirmed. As such, we must treat her with the respect due her station.”
Duncan clenched his jaw. Lucy could tell he was not happy with the direction the conversation had taken. “If she did commit this crime, she should stand trial, not be pardoned like her brother was. Yes,” he added, seeing Lucy’s surprised look. “I remember her brother’s case well. Henry Belasysse was pardoned for the murder of a tanner, without even standing trial. It is not my inclination to protect criminals.”
Lucy swallowed. He was well within his rights to arrest the poor creature upstairs. The law was most certainly in agreement that it was up to the accused to plead their innocence, and right now things looked quite bleak for the woman.
But before Lucy could say anything, Duncan spoke again. “However, I should like to speak to her uncle and mother again. Something of their explanation sorely bothers me, and I should like to discuss these matters with them further.” Then he frowned. “It is unlikely that her ladyship will receive me.”
That was certainly so. He could hardly knock on Lady Belasysse’s door and question the noblewoman about her earlier statements. He might not even be allowed to set foot inside their residence.
“Sir, your wife did invite them to partake in your Easter dinner on Sunday,” Lucy said, looking over at Dr. Larimer.
The physician rubbed his chin. “That is so,” he said.
“I thought that the constable might be on hand,” Lucy said to Dr. Larimer, “when the Belasysses return, sir.”
Mr. Sheridan made a funny sound in his throat. “I do not think that Lady Belasysse would be all that inclined to dine with a constable.” He looked back at Duncan. “No disrespect of course, Constable Duncan,” he said in his snide way.
“None taken, of course,” Duncan replied easily.
“Very good, Constable. I cannot have you interrogating her while we dine, naturally, but I shall tell Mrs. Hotchkiss to set you a meal in the kitchen.” Dr. Larimer looked at Lucy. “Is there something else?”
Lucy wanted to be on hand when the Belasysses returned to the physician’s household. In a rush she continued. “Indeed, I was going to ask you, Dr. Larimer, if my brother, Will, and I might be here for dinner? In the kitchen, of course. Master Hargrave always gave his servants the day off on Easter, but I thought since I am tending Miss Belasysse, you should not like me to be very far away.”
Mrs. Larimer walked in then, apparently catching only the last bit of Lucy’s comment. “My heavens! Master Hargrave releases his servants from their duties on Easter?” She clapped her hands together. “However does the poor man fare? With a bit of cold mutton, I suppose. No, we shall invite him here. Herbert, send dear Thomas a note first thing.”
“I will, my dear,” Dr. Larimer replied. “A splendid suggestion, to be sure. I should very much enjoy seeing Thomas for Easter dinner.”
“Oh, I must speak with Mrs. Hotchkiss,” Mrs. Larimer exclaimed. She was about to walk out of the room when she stopped abruptly as though an idea had struck her mid-step. “Dear Lucy,” she said turning around, “certainly you may join us. Your brother, too, if you like.”
“Why, thank you, mistress,” Lucy said, pleased and a bit stunned by the unexpected invitation. Constable Duncan gave her a quick smile, as though he understood the honor she had been bestowed.
“Not at all,” Mrs. Larimer said, waving her hand. “I was hoping that you might be on hand to help serve. I remember that Master Hargrave always thought so highly of you, and I know that you were not one to spill or make waste. Then you may enjoy your meal with your brother at your leisure, once our meal has cleared. We should not need you very much after that. You may ask Molly for an extra apron. Unless, of course, you thought to bring one of your own?”
“Oh,” Lucy said, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. Of course, as Miss Belasysse’s nurse, she was not being asked to join the family for Easter dinner. Indeed, she had not expected such a thing. But even less had she expected to serve the family’s meals. She did not quite know what to say. The cut from the slight was keen.
Not realizing what had just transpired, Dr. Larimer rubbed his hands together. “Just so, just so. We shall have a splendid dinner, I should think.”
When the men resumed talking and Mrs. Larimer left, Lucy slipped out of the house and sat down on the bench under the old tree. Unshed tears stung her eyes.
The sound of a twig breaking behind her made her look up. Duncan was looking at her, a bit ruefully. “Thank you for inviting me to Easter dinner,” he said. “That was quick thinking. I agree, it will be good for me to be on hand, should the Belasysses say anything of interest.”
“So you can listen at the door, and with any luck, they will say something while I lay the ham before them,” she said, trying to sound more merry than she felt. But it was hard to keep the bitter tone from her voice, and it seemed Duncan heard it, for he swiveled back to look at her.
“Something like that,” he said, searching her face. Though he grinned at her, she could see the puzzled look in his eyes. “Lucy—” He hesitated. “Had you expected to be invited to dine with the family? When Lady Belasysse—Lady Belasysse!—is to be the guest of honor?”
Lucy shrugged and looked away. “Sometimes Master Hargrave would dine with us,” she said.
“But in the kitchen, is that not so?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I beg you to give them no mind. You are worth ten of them, there is no doubt of that.” He began to walk across the courtyard, to exit through the metal gates to the path that led back to the street.
Before he left, he said, “And no matter what, I am very glad to take a meal with you and your brother. It is an occasion I will look very much forward to.”
For a moment she smiled, before his next words chilled her. “After all, we may very well find the evidence we need to arrest Miss Belasysse for murder.”
14
“Molly, deliver this note to the Hargraves, if you would,” Lucy overheard Dr. Larimer tell his servant the next morning. They were in the kitchen, and Lucy was preparing a hot drink for Miss Belasysse. She assumed this was the invitation for the Hargraves to dine with them on Easter.
“After I am done with my slops?” Molly asked. “Mrs. Hotchkiss will be after me for certain. And my chopping?” She gestured to some potatoes. “Then after that I’ve got my pots, and Mrs. Hotchkiss says—”
They would never know what Mrs. Hotchkiss would say, for Dr. Larimer held up his hand. “Fine. Please take ca
re of your more pressing tasks. We should not like to disturb Mrs. Hotchkiss. Within a half hour’s time, if you would.”
Seizing the opportunity, Lucy scrawled a note for Adam, hoping that he would not have to report to the Fire Court on a Saturday morning. She did not write too many other details for fear of it landing in the wrong hands, but she did explain that she needed to speak with him about an important matter. Duncan’s last words before he left the night before had disturbed Lucy more than she wished to admit. She pressed the note into Molly’s hand before she left for the Hargraves’ home. “For Adam Hargrave, you understand?”
* * *
About an hour later, Molly came to her. “Mr. Hargrave came back with me. I settled him in the drawing room.” That the servant had done so suggested a stature for Lucy that was unexpected. For a wild moment, she thought to tell the girl that she could not receive visitors in such a way. Instead, she swallowed and replied, “Thank you, Molly.”
When Lucy entered the drawing room, Adam stood up. He kissed her on the cheek and drew her to two chairs embroidered in an exotic style that Molly had told her was called “Turkey work.” Dr. Larimer had just bought these chairs from a furniture dealer with ties to the East.
“Lucy,” Adam said, his dark blue eyes searching her face. He pulled out the note she had written that morning from a pocket inside his coat. “Tell me the meaning of this. It sounds urgent.”
“It is.” Taking a deep breath, she then explained that the constable wished to arrest Miss Belasysse for murder. “I am quite concerned about her, you see. As one who suffers from the falling sickness she might not survive should she be imprisoned.”
“Yes, I imagine that to be so.” Like Lucy, he had seen inside the Newgate prison firsthand, and other jails, too, she suspected. He knew the atrocities and fatal indifference that would await this woman before trial. “The law presumes guilt, not innocence, Lucy.” Adam stood up and began to walk around. She had seen him do this before when he was trying to puzzle through a problem. His father did the same thing. “I am afraid that, other than being the alleged daughter of a baron, this woman has very little in her favor, and everything against it. The blood on her, the cuts on her hands—all suggest that she had wielded a knife. Then a man’s body, full of stab wounds, turns up in the same area where she was discovered, witless—” He sighed. “It is not surprising to me that Duncan is suspicious of her. Lucy, does she deserve your goodwill?”
“I do not know, Adam. Someone claiming to be her husband followed us the other afternoon. Said her name was Erica Nabur. He knew all about her problems with memory. Said she frequently wandered off, which I suppose she has done in the past, according to her family. He tried to get her to leave with him. I think that is rather suspicious, too.”
“Someone came after you?” Adam asked, tensing. “Why did you not tell me this straightaway?”
“Well, I am telling you now,” Lucy replied, pressing her hands together. “I did not think to tell you—we were quite unharmed, you see.”
She thought she would leave out the part where the man grabbed Miss Belasysse’s arm and Lucy laid into him, kicking and punching. Adam most certainly would not like to hear about that, and she hated to trouble him further. “Besides, we told Constable Duncan directly after it happened.”
“You went to see Duncan?” Adam sat back in his chair, pulling away from her slightly.
“Well, yes.” Looking down into her lap, Lucy pulled idly at a thread on her skirt. Then she continued. “Miss Belasysse—though we did not know for certain that was her name—swore she did not know the man who claimed to be her husband. Of course we know that to be true. I asked about his papers and—”
“Oh, Lucy,” Adam groaned. “You challenged him?”
Hearing the worry in his voice, she touched his arm. “I am sorry, Adam. I do not mean to trouble you.” Trying to divert him, she continued on more brightly. “Do you not think it was suggestive that someone came after Miss Belasysse as he did? I think now that the man may have known who she was. If so, what did he want with her?”
Once again, Adam’s eyes grew speculative. “Ransom? She is quite wealthy, of course. Or perhaps he had seen her in her addled state and thought it would be easy enough to have his way with a woman he could lay claim to as a wife.”
Lucy cringed. She had not thought of that. She thought back to the man’s shifty demeanor, and inwardly agreed that such a disgusting thing might have been on his mind.
“Well, we cannot dwell on that man right now. We have a more pressing matter at hand.” She paused. “I was thinking. If she were indeed involved with that man’s death, what if Miss Belasysse were not in her right mind when the murder occurred? If she were witless at the time of the crime, as she is now?”
Adam shook his head. “Very difficult to prove insanity, without a witness.”
“And if she had been defending herself?” Lucy persisted. “Would that alter anything?”
“Such an act would be considered at best accidental killing, and at worst manslaughter,” Adam explained. “If the former, she would not likely be hanged. If the latter, well, I cannot say. It would depend upon the nature of the judge and jury. Even if she were not hanged, she likely would still live out her days in prison. Hardly a better sentence, as you well know.”
Lucy shivered. “Her brother, Henry Belasysse, killed a man. In a tavern. He was pardoned for the crime. Perhaps she might be as well.”
Adam stroked his chin. “That happened a few years ago, did it not? I recall that event. I do not mind saying that both Father and I were unhappy with that decision by His Majesty. As you and I both know, there are many others who deserved a pardon for their alleged crimes, and killing a man should not be such an easily pardoned offense.”
Lucy looked around, hoping that no one was passing by. His words bordered on treason. She did not know Molly or Mrs. Hotchkiss well enough to know where their loyalties lay. Seeming to realize this, he lowered his voice. “Indeed, her brother’s pardon may bode poorly for her, as I remember there was quite a cry when people learned of it.”
“I see,” Lucy said. She recalled her brother’s anger when he heard tell of the pardon. A jury might well feel similarly, as might a judge. “Could we find a witness to the murder? Maybe someone saw what truly happened to that man.”
“How do you propose we do that?” he asked, a wariness appearing in his eyes.
“I was thinking to return to where I found her, by Holborn Bridge. The constable said the body was half buried under a pile of rubble not too far away. And I know people are living out there. Someone must have seen something, I believe that to be true. I think the people who are living there might be more likely to speak to me than to the constable. If I could just go and talk to them—Adam, what is the matter?”
Adam had tensed at her words. “Lucy!” he exclaimed. “Do you hear what you are saying? What you are proposing could get you killed!”
“Adam, I—”
“Please, Lucy. Enough,” he said, putting up his hand in his characteristic way. “I cannot allow you to traipse about the ruins looking for a witness to a murder! Heaven only knows what might befall you!”
Lucy clasped her hands together in frustration but did not say anything. Instead, she moved to the window, staring blindly out into the street. A moment later, Adam came behind her and gently turned her toward him. “I did not mean that I would not help you. If you can get an hour away from your nursing duties, I will accompany you to the site myself. See what we may discover.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
As they were talking, Mrs. Larimer entered the room. “Why, Adam Hargrave,” she said, extending her hands. “Whatever are you doing here?” She glanced at Lucy. “Are you here to speak to my husband?” She linked her arm in his. “He is working, but allow me to bring you to him. Tell me, you and your father will be able to dine with us tomorrow evening, do say that it is so. Ever since your dear mother passed, I feel that
I do not see you nearly as often as we ought.”
“Yes, we are very pleased to dine with your family,” he said, throwing an apologetic look at Lucy over his shoulder.
“We have the most interesting guest staying with us,” Lucy heard Mrs. Larimer say, as they moved down the hallway toward her husband’s study.
Lucy watched them, feeling a faint flush rise in her cheeks. Stupid! She berated herself. No one would understand Adam Hargrave with Lucy Campion, former chambermaid. Such a thing can never occur. Even if she was no longer sure about the depth of her feelings for Adam, the slight still stung.
Nevertheless, she followed them down the hallway in time to hear Dr. Larimer greet Adam. “Ah, Mr. Hargrave, it is good to see you. I trust Lucy has filled you in about our rather surprising patient?”
Adam nodded. “She has.” He glanced at Lucy. “She also informed me that the constable might feel duty-bound to arrest the poor woman. What say you?”
Dr. Larimer scratched his nose. “Oh, blasted Jupiter! I do not wish to see it happen, but the dress was all bloody, and she has cuts on her hands. Those cuts suggest to me she had been using a knife recently. I have seen them on the hands of butchers, you see. Moreover, the man was probably killed a day or two before Lucy found her wandering about in her mad fugue. By her actions and demeanor, she has as good as admitted that she killed the man.”
“But why? Who is he? What do we know of the victim?” Adam asked.
“We know very little of the man. His nose was broken, and he looks to have had a number of injuries, long healed. Nothing recent, except the stab wounds.” Changing the subject, he asked, “And will you be joining us for a late Easter dinner tomorrow afternoon? At three o’clock? You received my note?”
“Yes, indeed,” he said. “I am sure Father will confirm on our behalf.” Glancing at Lucy, he said, “I daresay, I am rather intrigued by this whole matter. I might walk over to Holborn Bridge and explore the area a bit more myself. See what might be seen.” Without hesitating, he added, “I thought Lucy might accompany me.”
A Death Along the River Fleet Page 14
