Death Comes to London

by Catherine Lloyd

  Lady Bentley snorted. “Or struggling to hide their complete lack of remorse over that harridan’s death. They should be thanking me and Miss Chingford for driving her into such a rage.”

  “You believe you caused her death?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes—at least I hope I had a hand in it. My son has a hot temper and threatened to strangle the old biddy for me. I told him a more subtle approach was needed.”

  Lucy swallowed hard. “And did he heed your words?”

  “He is a very clever man, I’m sure he did.” Lady Bentley poked Lucy’s arm with her fan. “Did you speak to the countess about my rubies?”

  “Actually, I’ve been helping catalogue the dowager’s possessions, but there is no sign of your rubies. The dowager told the current countess that the jewelry had been stolen from her.”

  “Or she sold or pawned it to pay her debts.” Lady Bentley’s mouth thinned. “Although I doubt she would do that unless she was desperate, and she never struck me as a woman who was short of money.”

  “Are you talking about your lost jewels again, Mama?”

  Lucy jumped as Nigel Bentley loomed over her.

  “Of course I am, dear. I want them back.”

  Her son took a seat opposite Lucy and studied his mother. “I hardly think this is a suitable place to discuss such a matter. The Dowager Countess of Broughton is dead.”

  “And she isn’t going to win, Nigel. You agreed with me, you said you would do anything to—”

  Mr. Bentley cut across her. “Is Lieutenant Broughton here today, Miss Harrington?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Then perhaps it is time to take this matter up with him myself.”

  “Oh!” Lady Bentley’s voice rose to a shriek. “I wouldn’t recommend that, darling. He isn’t the easiest of men to deal with now, is he? And he’s a hardened killer straight from the battlefields of France!”

  Mr. Bentley stood up. “And I doubt he’ll draw his cavalry sword and run me through at a public event, Mama. I’ve always found him a reasonable man.”

  “But—”

  He bowed and walked away. Lady Bentley grabbed Lucy’s hand in a punishing grip.

  “You have to go after him, or warn Broughton that he is coming! Nigel has a terrible temper; there’s no knowing what might happen.”

  Lucy eased her hand free of the frantic grip. “I’ll do my best, my lady.”

  “I should never have involved him in this matter. He is too quick to defend me at all costs.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll go and find Lieutenant Broughton.”

  “Thank you.” For the first time Lady Bentley looked truly frightened. “I couldn’t bear to lose my only son. I’ll come with you.”

  Her concern sounded rather extreme to Lucy, but then she’d never been a mother and had no idea what Nigel Bentley might do. She couldn’t imagine Lieutenant Broughton becoming involved in a brawl either. She spied Anna’s yellow plumed bonnet down toward the edge of the lake and headed down the slope. If Anna was there, Broughton was probably close behind.

  Robert was not having the best of days. He’d barely arrived at the party when Miss Chingford attached herself to his arm and refused to stop chatting to him as if they were the best of friends. Short of shaking himself free and flinging her to the ground, he couldn’t think of a single way to politely dispose of her company. She was also leading him down toward the boating area of the lake, and the uneven surface was proving difficult for his injured leg to navigate.

  “Miss Chingford, will you, please—”

  When she realized he was intending to lead her over to Broughton, she suddenly pulled out of his grasp and stomped off in a huff, upsetting his balance.

  “Major Kurland, are you all right?”

  He rocked back and forth and discovered Anna Harrington in front of him, one hand reaching out as if ready to stop him tumbling headfirst into her arms. He dug his cane into the soft ground and finally managed to stay upright.

  “Miss Anna.”

  As he forced himself to continue down the slope, Broughton turned toward him and nodded at the boats. “Are you coming, Kurland? I could do with another pair of hands.”

  Dubiously, Robert regarded the boats. “I’m not sure if—”

  “Lieutenant Broughton!”

  The demanding tone had both Robert and Broughton turning away from the lake and back toward the house.

  “What the devil does he want?” Broughton muttered.

  “Lieutenant, I wish to speak to you.” The man arrived at the bottom of the slope and strode toward Broughton.

  “How may I help you, Mr. Bentley?”

  Robert looked closely at the approaching gentleman. This was Lady Bentley’s son? He didn’t remember having met the man before.

  “I believe we have a matter to discuss about your grandmother’s estate.”

  Broughton stiffened. “At a boating party?”

  Bentley flushed with annoyance. “As it has proved impossible to meet with you otherwise, then yes.”

  “I’ve been indisposed.”

  “So I heard, but don’t you think this issue between our families has gone on long enough? I require a resolution.”

  “This issue as you call it has no foundation in fact and is merely a silly women’s quarrel.”

  Bentley stepped in close, his eyes narrowed, his hands fisted at his sides. “The jewelry is missing from our family coffers. It belongs to us, and I request its return. If you don’t wish to settle this matter amicably, I will continue with the court case.”

  “You’ll lose.”

  “I doubt it, and I am a lawyer well-versed in such cases. We have evidence to support our claim.”

  “What evidence?”

  Mr. Bentley bowed. “That, you will find out in court, Lieutenant. I wish you good day. My mother wishes to try boating on the lake and I hate to disappoint her in anything.”

  “Bastard,” Broughton muttered, but Robert was the only person who heard him. “And I know who is behind this. He’s always been his mother’s plaything. She is intent on hounding me into an early grave.”

  “What evidence could he have?” Robert asked quietly.

  Broughton turned to Robert as if he’d only just remembered he was there. “I have no idea. The whole thing is preposterous.”

  “I agree.” Out of the corner of his eye Robert saw Lucy Harrington and Lady Bentley approaching at some speed. Mr. Bentley reached them and took possession of his mother’s hand. He appeared to be comforting her. Miss Harrington continued toward him and Broughton. She wore a blue gown and a tall bonnet that made it difficult for him to see her face properly.

  He moved slightly away from Broughton to await her.

  “Did Mr. Bentley speak to Lieutenant Broughton?”

  “He did.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest, her breathing agitated. “I knew I wouldn’t reach them in time. Thank goodness you were there. Did they fight?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. After Broughton was forced to discuss the problem, Mr. Bentley threatened to continue with the lawsuit to recover his family’s property. He said he had evidence to support his claim.”

  “Lady Bentley didn’t mention anything about that.” Miss Harrington frowned.

  “Have you been meddling, Miss Harrington?”

  “I told you I would speak to Lady Bentley about the missing jewelry. I didn’t find any rubies at all in the dowager’s rooms, or any mention of them in her accounts.”

  “I assume you also spoke to Mr. Bentley.”

  “He seemed quite well informed about the matter already, sir. I believe he and Lady Bentley are very close. She seemed quite frightened about what he might do to protect her honor.”

  Robert offered her his arm and they strolled toward the boats moored at the end of the short pier. Broughton was just handing Anna into one of them and Mr. Bentley was doing the same for his mother.

  “So now you believe the Bentleys are in caho
ots?”

  “Possibly.” She glanced up at him. “Lady Bentley suggested she might have deliberately enraged the dowager in the hopes that she might die of apoplexy.”

  “That scarcely counts as murder. I suspect we’ve all hoped that might happen to an appalling relative or acquaintance in the past. I also doubt it would stand up in court.”

  “I suppose you are right.” Miss Harrington sighed. “Do you have anything else of interest to tell me?”

  Robert guided her away from the boats. “I’m wondering whether you were right all along and the dowager countess accidentally poisoned herself.”

  Miss Harrington stopped walking and simply stared up at him. “But what about Oliver?”

  “He’s still the most likely candidate, but, apparently, the dowager already managed to poison half the Broughton household earlier this year, so your idea does have some merit.”

  “Thank you.” She stared out over the lake. “Oh dear, I hope Lieutenant Broughton steers clear of Mr. Bentley. They are rather close together.”

  Robert shaded his eyes and observed the activity on the water. There were several boats out on the lake and none of them was being rowed particularly skillfully. Broughton was moving steadily, but the Bentley boat appeared to be on a collision course.

  “Lady Bentley did say that her son had a quick temper.”

  They moved closer to the edge of the lake, just as the Bentley boat appeared to slow down and head off at another angle toward the artificial waterfall. Several other vessels were launched, and it became hard to see either Broughton or the Bentleys from their position.

  “Shall we take a stroll around the lake, Miss Harrington?”

  “Are you really worried that something might happen?”

  He offered her his arm. “Better to be safe than sorry. I’d hate for Miss Anna or Lady Bentley to take a ducking because their male companions were behaving like schoolboys.”

  She placed her gloved hand on his sleeve and they moved off, their progress slowed by the loss of the path and the slightly muddy nature of the grass.

  “I can’t see them,” Miss Harrington said eventually.

  Robert paused as he caught a glimpse of the yellow ribbons of Miss Anna’s bonnet. “Over there. Coming toward this bank.”

  A sudden scream rent the air and Miss Harrington started forward, almost toppling Robert into the water.

  “What’s happened? Where is Anna?”

  “Broughton’s boat has capsized. Where’s Bentley?”

  “Forget him!” Miss Harrington was untying her bonnet and pulling at the button of her pelisse. “I need to find Anna.”

  Robert caught her arm. “No, stay here, let me.” He struggled out of his heavy coat and dived into the water, gasping as the coldness invaded his lungs. When he surfaced, he struck out for the center of the lake, narrowly avoiding the oars of the other boats that had gathered to watch the catastrophe. The wreckage of more than one craft floated on the surface.

  He glimpsed Broughton diving for something and went down as well. The water wasn’t clear, but he caught sight of a flash of yellow and dove toward it. His outstretched hands caught onto fabric and he hauled the extraordinary weight toward the surface with all his might.

  “Major Kurland! I’m all right, I can swim!” Anna clutched at his arm. “But I have Lady Bentley. Help me!”

  “I’ll take her.” He realized that she held on to another body and let her go to wrap an arm around the unconscious form of Lady Bentley.

  Broughton reemerged from under the water and Robert shouted at him. “Take Miss Anna! Where’s Bentley?”

  “I got him on another boat along with the other two who collided with us.”

  “Then I’ll bring Lady Bentley in.” Robert set his jaw and began to swim backward with his unconscious burden toward the edge of the lake, which suddenly seemed a long way away. His injured leg started to throb with every stroke, but he had to kick out strongly as the weight of Lady Bentley’s petticoats and heavy skirt dragged them both down.

  As he approached the bank, several of the men waded in to help and lifted Lady Bentley out of his arms and onto the pier. Barely managing to move, he forced himself to crawl out of the water on his hands and knees and collapsed onto his back, breathing hard.

  “Major Kurland, are you all right?”

  He opened his eyes to see Miss Harrington hovering over him, a soft blanket in her hands.

  She knelt beside him and helped him sit up. He coughed up at least a bucketful of lake water while she draped the blanket over his shoulders. When he struggled to rise, she offered him her shoulder to lean on and gave him back his cane. She had his coat over her arm.

  “Are you sure that you don’t want to rest, Major?”

  “No time.”

  He hobbled toward the pier where an excited crowd surrounded Lady Bentley, and shouted, “Turn her onto her side, don’t leave her on her back!”

  He managed to navigate the short journey to Lady Bentley’s side and came down beside her. She wasn’t breathing and he couldn’t feel her heartbeat. He began thumping her on the back until his arm was wrenched behind him.

  “What the devil are you doing to my mother?” Bentley demanded, his face pale, his brown hair still dripping with water. “Are you trying to strangle her?”

  “Don’t be a fool, man.” Robert stared at him. “I’m patting her back. It’s a trick I learned in the Low Countries to get rid of water from a person’s lungs. It works, I assure you.”

  Bentley lurched at Robert. “Leave her alone, damn you!”

  Robert’s left leg gave way and he fell backward, leaving Bentley to gather his mother in his arms and rock her like a child. He stroked her ashen face. “Mama, wake up, wake up!”

  Miss Anna Harrington appeared with Broughton and the other two soaked guests, and they all set off back up the hill toward the mansion where a fleet of servants were running out to greet them. The majority of the guests, uncomfortable with Bentley’s excessive show of grief, followed them.

  It appeared that someone had at least had the sense to call for a physician and some men to carry Lady Bentley’s body into the house. Bentley was slow to release his mother. His wild gaze caught Robert’s.

  “Oh God, my damnable temper. I didn’t mean this to happen. I just wanted to give Broughton a well-deserved ducking. I never thought the other boat would get involved and we’d all go down together.”

  The physician patted him on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Mr. Bentley, calm yourself. Your mother is in God’s hands now.”

  Bentley stood up, openly weeping as the servants carefully placed his mother’s body on the large blanket and lifted her up.

  Wearily, Robert looked around for his cane and his coat.

  “Here you are, Major.”

  “Thank you, Miss Harrington.”

  Damnation, he didn’t think he could stand, and he couldn’t lie here within two feet of the grieving Bentley for much longer or he’d start feeling sorry for himself. He waited for a moment, but Miss Harrington’s sensible half-kid boots didn’t move an inch. He put one hand flat on the ground and tried to raise himself up on his right knee. The pain was excruciating.

  “Major?”

  He focused on his outstretched hand until he had his breathing under control.

  “Go away, Miss Harrington.”

  “But—”

  “Please.”

  Silence followed his request and he briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Miss Harrington had gone and his coat lay neatly folded beside his cane on the ground beside him.

  “May I assist you, Major Kurland?”

  A male voice this time. Robert looked up. “Yes, please. I appear to have damaged my leg.”

  Chapter 13

  “Major Kurland!” Foley’s cry made Robert wince. “What happened to you?”

  “Not now, Foley.”

  Robert allowed the two servants who had helped him up the stairs to lower him onto the be
d, and closed his eyes. For a moment there was blessed silence and then he heard Foley’s worried breathing coming closer.

  “Do you want a hot bath, Major?”

  “No, thank you. Just leave me be. I’ll do well enough.”

  “Major, you are soaking wet and covered in mud. Your boots are ruined, and I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to get the stains out of your new uniform.”

  Robert kept his eyes closed and focused his meager resources on mastering the tearing pain that shook through his left leg and entire torso.

  Foley sighed loudly. “I’ll send for some hot water anyway, sir. Just stay where you are and I’ll be right back.”

  “Trust me, I have no intention of going anywhere, Foley.”

  He shied away from the insidious thought that he’d never go anywhere again and had finally condemned himself to life as a complete invalid in a chair. He lay still, holding himself tightly within himself, listening to the snap of the coal in the fireplace and the gentle ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

  Had Bentley’s immature attempt to annoy Broughton caused the death of his own mother? How would one live with that on one’s conscience? Robert had killed in battle and understood the necessity of that, but to accidentally cause the death of a loved one through one’s own lack of ability to keep one’s temper? That would be a hard burden to live with.

  “Major Kurland? It’s Dr. Redmond. I happened to be in the house tending Oliver when your manservant came to find me. May I examine you?”

  Robert opened his eyes and focused his gaze on the guilty face of his butler, who was peering over the doctor’s shoulder.

  “He shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m just a little overtired.”

  Dr. Redmond was already feeling carefully down Robert’s left leg. “You were injured here before, I take it?”

  “Yes, I broke my leg at Waterloo.”

  His breath hissed out as the doctor and Foley relieved him of his boots and soaked breeches. Sweat broke out on his brow as the doctor manipulated the tight muscles of his left thigh.

  “I don’t think you’ve broken anything new. I suspect you simply overstrained yourself. The best treatment I can recommend is bed rest and warm compresses on the muscles. I can also leave you some laudanum to help reduce the pain.”