‘Think about it, Flora. You’re William’s heir, so getting rid of you gave Caroline and McCallum a clear run to his money.’
‘I’m not his heir. And even if I was, had Caroline become his wife, she would have been entitled anyway unless he changed his will.’
‘She couldn’t guarantee that. Caroline has looks and charm but even she doubted she could captivate a man like William enough to persuade him to disinherit you.’
‘She was clearly in love with McCallum.’ Flora recalled the woman’s stricken face as she stared down at her lover’s lifeless body. ‘Did they also plan to get rid of William eventually?’ A shiver than crept up her spine at the thought though its existence puzzled her. William was nothing more to her that Lady Venetia’s brother and Eddy’s Uncle. Then why did the idea of his loss to bother her?’
‘I don’t know, but I wouldn’t discount it. Neither of them had any morals.’
‘I’m furious with myself at having misjudged McCallum so badly.’ She always had prided herself on being a good judge of character, but with his alluring eyes and attractive smile, he had completely fooled her. ‘Leopold of the Belgians had a bad reputation where women were concerned too.’
‘Hmm, what was that about Belgians?’
‘Oh, nothing. McCallum’s disgust at fox hunting during dinner the other night made me think he was a sensitive soul, yet when it came to disposing of a human being, his conscience had not troubled him at all.’ Idly she wondered if he had ever been married, but pushed the thought away as being of no consequence now.
‘Don’t punish yourself, Flora. McCallum wasn’t as clever as he thought. William and I paid a call to his brewery this afternoon. He had laid off half his workforce and sold some of his dray horses. It didn’t take much for his foreman to let us into his office.’
‘By the look on your face I assume you found something interesting.’
He nodded. ‘Those newspaper clippings your father had, well McCallum had them too, and a lot more. He had a whole file of information about the Manchester incident. Did you know two years ago he lived there?’
‘No, I didn’t. He said he came from the north, but was no more specific than that.’
‘He tried to pass himself off as a country gentleman but gave himself away when he didn’t know what an earthstopper was. That’s when William first suspected him. I did some checking with an investigator we sometimes use in my law firm.’
‘You did all this without mentioning it to me?’
‘I wasn’t sure I would find anything, and didn’t want to get your hopes up until I was sure. You had enough to deal with, what with losing Riordan, the inquest and then the funeral. All this stuff you were trying to unearth about your mother upset you even more until your talk with Amy. Then Eddy being poisoned and you the only one who noticed.’ He lifted both hands palms upwards and let them fall again. ‘I was trying to spare you, but as it turned out, you thought I wasn’t taking your suspicions seriously and put yourself in danger.’ He massaged his forehead with one hand. ‘I cannot believe I handled everything so badly.’
‘You didn’t. I was the stubborn one and you were right, I was distressed over Father, and the questions about my mother. You were right to try and rein me in a little. I’ll listen to you in future, I promise.’
‘I believe you said that once before. When we were aboard the Minneapolis.’
‘Um, possibly. And you were just a little jealous of McCallum too, weren’t you?’
‘Of course. But I wasn’t going to reveal that.’
If only he knew how clearly his feelings were written on his face when he stepped out of the carriage on Sandford Road - he might as well have painted himself green. ‘What did your investigator find out?’
‘McCallum,’ he began, unable to keep the triumph from his voice, ‘was a Mancunian accounts clerk with a talent for massaging clients’ books. He embezzled the company he worked for and used the proceeds to buy the brewery at a knock-down price. Unfortunately for him, bringing the place back to full production proved more expensive than he imagined, thus the insurance claim. Fairbrother wouldn’t co-operate with the diagnosis, but when Riordan suggested poison, it played right into his hands.’
‘So he was an ally, until Father discovered he was trying to get rid of me so he could have William’s money. It all makes sense now. Horrible, evil sense.’ She leaned back against the upholstery, swaying with the movement of the carriage as it traversed the country road. ‘All those men at the brewery will lose their jobs now, won’t they?’ She thought of Amy Coombe’s harsh childhood when the brewery failed before, and all the other Amy’s and their mothers whose lives would now be blighted due to the actions of one man.
‘If they don’t find an affluent enough buyer who can bring the brewery back up to scratch again, it’s more than likely.’ Bunny ran tentative fingers along her wrist, as if suddenly shy. ‘Bracenose was pacing the drive when we arrived and practically threw himself at the horses. We didn’t stop to wait for a full explanation, but when he told us where you were, we turned around and came straight to Caroline’s.’
‘Then when I saw you thrown to the ground by the carriage, I thought I had killed you. I never want to experience such stomach-churning terror again.’
Flora summoned a weak smile, tempted to remind him that had he been less secretive, she wouldn’t have put herself into such an invidious position, but when it had come to it, he had come to her rescue. The important thing was she wasn’t hurt, much, and her father’s killer had been caught and punished. That it was beneath the hooves of a horse and not a hangman’s rope seemed fitting.
This satisfying thought was followed by another, equally as sobering: Riordan Maguire wasn’t her father. He had never been.
*
The carriage turned in at the Abbey gates and suddenly Flora felt very tired. Despite her repeated assurances that she was more shaken than hurt, her legs still shook and Bunny had to help her down the carriage step.
‘It’s most likely shock, however I think we’ll let the doctor decide that,’ he said as they entered the hall.
‘Oh no, please don’t send for Dr Fairbrother. I think I prefer his arrogant face to his apologetic one. I imagine my hip will be purple by tomorrow, but not much can be done for bruises, unless you have a bucket of arnica at the ready. Oh!’ She released a gasp which turned to a laugh as Bunny swept her into his arms and headed for the stairs.
They were only a few feet away from the first stair, when the door to the sitting room opened and Jocasta came running. Lord Vaughn close behind her.
‘What’s wrong with Flora? Or is this one of your romantic gestures, Bunny?’ She laughed, but as she drew closer, gasped. ‘What’s happened to your dress, it’s all torn and filthy? And your hands are bandaged?’
‘Rescue mission,’ Bunny said, continuing up the steps, but halted halfway up at the sound of Lord Vaughn’s voice. ‘I saw William’s carriage in the drive, then it turned round and drove off again.’ Lord Vaughn said at Jocasta’s shoulder. ‘Where’s William? Didn’t he come back with you?’
Evidently they weren’t going to get away with saying nothing.
‘We’ll explain later,’ Flora said over Bunny’s shoulder. ‘I need to clean myself up first.’
‘Are you sure you are all right, Flora?’ Jocasta wrapped both hands round the newel post and stared up at them.
Flora didn’t have the energy to speak, so waved vaguely one of her bandaged hands.
Jocasta and her father drifted back to the sitting room, whispering together but both with dark, confused looks on their faces.
‘What will happen to Caroline?’ Flora rested her head on Bunny’s shoulder.
‘I don’t know, but she was his accomplice in everything but your father’s death. She has some explaining to do, that’s for certain.’ He paused for breath on the half-landing.
‘Am I too heavy?’ she said into the soft hair behind his ear, though the question was perfu
nctory.
‘Well, let me put it this way. No more cream cakes and biscuits for you for a while.’
‘Hey!’ She lifted her head and gasped, but he was laughing. ‘Tease. I’d slap you if my hands weren’t torn and bleeding. Now what was it you said about Caroline?’
‘Whether there will be charges depends on how much evidence they have and how good her lawyer is.’
‘In any other circumstance I would suggest you defend her, but not on this occasion.’ Flora couldn’t summon a crumb of sympathy for the woman who had known McCallum had killed her father and had poured her tea as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was small consolation that she most likely hadn’t poisoned it.
‘I wouldn’t even consider it. In fact this case might encourage me into the Prosecutor’s Office.’
‘I don’t believe that for a moment, you much prefer defending the underdog.’
‘William will tell us what happened when he gets back. I imagine we’ll be required to give the police statements about what we found at the brewery, but that can wait until the morning.’
‘I don’t think I can face William.’ Flora snorted. ‘I wouldn’t know what to say to him.’
‘You don’t have to say anything, just listen to his side of the story. It might surprise you.’
‘Everyone appears to have one of those, a story I mean. Along with a list of excuses for their lies and secrets. Apologies and justifications pall after a while.’ She tensed, recalling McCallum’s triumphant face when he told her not only who William was, but also that her father had known all the time. ‘Do you intend to carry me all way up two flights?’
‘Think I’m not up to it?’ His glasses slipped down on his nose and he crossed his eyes. Flora obeyed his silent signal and obliged by pushing them back with a finger. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’ She was aware she wasn’t shaking any more, but for some reason felt incredibly tired. ‘I feel safe now. Thank you.’
‘That’s the idea.’ He set her down outside their door, but kept his arms round her, his head bent to her hair. ‘I thought I had lost you back there. When I saw you lying on the ground, I—’ He choked back whatever he had intended to say next.
‘You’ve already said that, and you didn’t.’ Flora planted a kiss on his forehead, then pushed open the door. Like contestants in a three-legged race, they limped towards the bedroom, laughing as Bunny tripped on the rug and almost brought them both down onto the floor.
‘I don’t believe Caroline knew about the fire in Richmond,’ Flora said as Bunny helped her onto the bed. ‘She was horrified when McCallum told her he was trying to get rid of me for her sake.’ She declined the blanket he was about to throw over her. The room was stifling enough.
‘Shall I have some tea sent up?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you.’ Flora grimaced. ‘I’ve had enough tea for today.’ Even though she didn’t drink Caroline’s tea, the mere thought made her stomach hurt.
He removed the blanket and discarded it over the nearest chair, then clamped his hand onto her forehead.
‘What are you doing?’ Flora frowned.
‘Checking for clamminess. Shock can be quiet serious, you know.’
‘I’m fine, simply disoriented. It’s unnerving to discover that at the age of twenty-four my entire life has been a lie.’
‘Not all of it.’ He lowered himself onto the side of the bed and took her hand in both of his. ‘I’m steady enough and I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You know what I mean.’ No divorce then? A glance at the clock told her the dressing bell would go any moment. ‘I don’t feel up to facing everyone. Not yet. You get changed and go into dinner. I think I’ll stay here a while.’
‘Everyone will want to know what happened this afternoon, but if you aren’t up to it I could do it for you.’ He rose and patted her hand. ‘You lie here for a while and think. I’ll go and have a bath and come and see how you feel later. It’s still an hour before dinner.’
The door closed with a gentle click, and she relaxed against the pillows. She recalled what McCallum was going to do to her and jerked upright as a rush of ice-cold dread flooded through her veins. The window stood open and a light breeze billowed the curtain inwards, while a lone pigeon cooed from outside and she reminded herself she was safe. She pressed a hand to her chest and forced her breathing to slow, and lay down again. He couldn’t hurt her now. No more than the doctor on the SS Minneapolis hurt her when she had threatened his freedom.
The pigeon cooed again and a light breeze shifted the stifling heat of the early evening. Her eyelids fluttered closed and in the seconds before sleep claimed her, she wondered how she could ever look William Osborne in the face again.
*
Flora woke to a room bathed in soft evening light and Bunny’s face leaning over her.
‘Did you have a nice sleep?’
She yawned and stretched, then winced as her sore hands caught against her skirt.
‘Hmm, what time is it?’
‘After nine. Dinner is over I’m afraid, but I asked Amy to prepare some sandwiches as I knew you would be hungry.’
‘How thoughtful, and strangely enough I’m starving.’
‘I consider that a good sign.’ Bunny retrieved a tray from the dresser and placed it beside her on the bed. ‘Not very interesting, no ham or smoked salmon, but there is cucumber and egg mayonnaise.’
‘Sounds lovely.’ Flora nibbled at the corner of an egg sandwich. ‘I could do with a bath after this,’ she said through bites of sandwich. Then a good night’s sleep.’
‘You don’t fool me.’ Bunny perched on the edge of the bed and regarded her steadily. ‘You cannot put this off until tomorrow. The family are like a bevy of nervous cats downstairs, all vying to get their stories straight.’
‘I don’t care.’ She dissected a ham sandwich and nibbled at a slice of pink meat. ‘They’ve all lied to me for years. I’ve a good mind to pack my bags and go to the Belle Vue Hotel and leave them to it.’
‘That would be cruel. Besides, I know you. You are dying to know every detail.’
‘Then you tell me. The Vaughns appear to explained everything to you.’
‘Not everything.’ He moved the empty plate to one side and handed her a glass of milk.
She winced as the glass made contact with her grazed hand but the milk was cool and refreshing so she put up with the discomfort.
‘Come on, let’s get it over with.’ He removed the empty glass from her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘You’ll feel much better afterwards.’
She caught sight of her reflection in the cheval mirror, and groaned with dismay at the smuts of dirt on her cheeks and chin.
The hem of the skirt was torn and hung down to the floor at one side, the fabric stained with mud and what could have been blood from the scrapes on her hands but had soaked into the black bombazine. An inch-long cut on her forehead bulged slightly, the skin beneath it threatening to turn black at any second. Her hair had escaped its pins and hung in tangled chestnut curls down her back, while what remained of her soft bun lay in a wispy mess flattened on one side.
‘I’m going to need your help to make me respectable.’ She held out her hands, ‘I cannot manipulate buttons or laces with these hands.’
After a frustrated fumble or two, mostly on Bunny’s part, they removed Flora’s gown and soiled petticoats, washed her skin and refastened the buttons, hooks and eyes on a clean black skirt and blouse. Manipulating a brush and hair pins proved a challenge, but Flora viewed the final result with satisfaction.
‘You can throw that out too,’ she said as Bunny retrieved her soiled black gown from the floor. ‘I have no intention of wearing it again. And I’m not wearing that either.’ She nodded to the corset that hung by its strings in his other hand.
Bunny eyed the item with mild dismay, but made no comment as he returned it to the drawer. ‘Maybe I’ll get you a lady’s maid when we return home.’
> ‘It’s a lovely thought, but I don’t usually have scraped palms or a sore hip to hinder me. Maybe it wouldn’t be prudent until you are made a partner in your law firm?’
‘Oh, I think we can manage one small maid before that happens.’ He took her bandaged hand and tucked it beneath his elbow. ‘Ready?’
‘I suppose so.’ Though his wry smile told her Bunny wasn’t fooled. He knew as well as she did that she couldn’t wait to find out what William had to say.
27
With her hand in Bunny’s, Flora inhaled a deep breath as she limped into the sitting room, a task made easier without the restrictions of a corset. Jocasta and Lady Vaughn occupied a sofa, while William stood awkwardly beside the mantelpiece, apparently having found something of acute interest in the ormolu clock that stood there.
Conversation stilled abruptly and all eyes turned towards Flora.
‘Ah, there you are, my dear.’ Lord Vaughn grasped both her hands and guided her to the nearest empty sofa. ‘We all hope you feel better after your nap. Bunny told us all about your dreadful ordeal this afternoon. Who would have thought McCallum was—’
‘Yes, yes, George,’ Lady Venetia interrupted. ‘Flora knows better than anyone what happened.’
‘Even so, it must have been awful for you.’ Jocasta planted a gentle kiss on Flora’s cheek. ‘William says you were almost killed.’
Warmth crept into Flora’s face at the mention of William. She found she could not meet his eye and, instead, eyed the plate of petit fours on the table beside the coffee pot.
‘Might I have some coffee?’ she asked, recalling she had left an untouched pot in her room.
‘Oh, of course, my dear.’ Lady Venetia rose and moved to the sideboard. That she poured the brew herself drew Flora’s attention to the fact there were no servants in the room. To protect their reputation, or hers?
‘Have to say I never much liked the Mountjoy woman.’ Lord Vaughn declined coffee but helped himself to brandy. ‘When they are that flirtatious they can never be trusted.’ He carried his glass back to his favourite wing back chair by the empty fireplace.
Murder at Cleeve Abbey Page 30
