Behold, a Mystery!

by Joan Smith

  For a long moment we stood, eyeing each other like gladiators. I could think of no words to say. Felix’s warning came back to me. “I do not trust Otto above half ... He has always been unreliable ...” But he had always kept his vice out of this house at least. Carrying on under my roof with a lightskirt—and his cousin’s lightskirt at that—was really the outside of enough.

  “This is not what you are thinking, Jess,” he said in a cold, angry voice.

  A burst of embarrassed laughter came from Anita. “You are only making it worse, Otto,” she said, tapping his forearm with her white fingers. “Jessica already knows I am no provincial, and the whole of London knows your wanton ways.” She turned a conning smile on me. “It was nothing at all, my dear. I was frightened in this horrid house, and Otto was trying to allay my fears. You must not say a word to Gregory.”

  I said in Arctic accents, “I may be a provincial, Anita, but I try to remember I am a lady. I do not carry tales.”

  What really vexed me to no small degree was that Anita had never looked more enticing. She wore another mauve gown whose only token of half-mourning was its color. In style, it was a very dashing, low-cut evening gown. Her mohair shawl was around her shoulders for warmth. Her eyes sparkled, and her hair gleamed in the lamplight.

  While we three stood trying to conceal our embarrassment, Horatio appeared at the doorway. We greeted him and tried to assume a nonchalant air as he entered and began pouring sherry.

  Anita looked at my stylish black gown and gave a little cluck of sympathy. “I know a modiste in London who can do things even with mourning-clothes,” she said. “Once you get away where no one knows you, there is really no need to drape yourself in black crape.”

  I could find no suitable reply to such an outré suggestion. Horatio said, “She ain’t going away. She’s staying here.”

  He brought me a glass of sherry, and before long we were joined by Gregory and Felix. Anita looked at me nervously, wondering if she could trust me to keep her secret. The plaster over Felix’s eye caused a welcome diversion. When asked about it, Felix turned pink and said he had walked into a door.

  “Whilst walking with your nose stuck in a book,” Gregory laughed.

  “Something like that,” Felix replied with a weak smile. His eyes just flickered to mine. Of course I did not reveal his secret either, but I could not keep myself from thinking about it. Which of these smiling gentlemen around the grate was the vicious brute who had attacked him? My instincts ruled Horatio out. At the moment, I was ready to believe any crime of Otto. And there was Gregory, Felix’s own brother. Of course it was Cain who slew Abel.

  I was conscious, while we drank our sherry, that Otto kept staring at me as if he would like to say something. I made a point of ignoring both him and Anita. When Juteclaw announced dinner, I went in on Felix’s arm. Otto rushed to the seat on my right side, where he was ignored by me throughout dinner.

  Gregory spoke of the liquid treasures in the cellar. He did not mention that he had availed himself of a dozen bottles. Horatio talked about his new pistols, and Otto regaled the company with some stories about Gentleman Jackson—the dog, that is. Anita and I listened without speaking much.

  “I have written to Weldon asking him to come and take Jackson away,” Otto said. “I shouldn’t think he would come before tomorrow.”

  “There was no need for that,” Felix said. “I will be calling on Weldon once more before I leave. I’ll take Jackson with me.”

  “Are we free to leave, then?” Gregory asked, with joyful hope shining in his eyes.

  “I am to deliver a lecture in London the day after tomorrow,” Felix said. “I plan to leave by noon tomorrow. I wrote to let Croton know. He did not deign to reply, but he knows where to find me if he needs me for anything. Croton is not taking much interest in the affair. We have not even seen Culpepper all day.”

  “You won’t want to take Jackson to Weldon’s in your carriage,” I told him. It occurred to me that he only wanted the dog for safety’s sake.

  Felix said, “I’ll tie him to the carriage door and let him trot beside me. It is not far.”

  “I paid three guineas for the dog,” Otto said. “I would be happy to sell him back for half of that.”

  “He won’t pay you anything,” I said icily. They were the first words I had said to Otto since leaving the saloon, and I only said them because they were unpleasant. “The servants tell me selling Jackson is a sideline business with John Weldon. You have made a bad bargain.”

  “That pleases you, no doubt.”

  “It is a matter of indifference to me, so long as you get the animal away from Downsview. I intend to maintain some minimal standards here, you must know.”

  He coloured up at the angry sting in my voice. He knew it was not only the dog I meant—and so did Anita. She began smiling and suggesting we two put our heads together over the fashion magazines after dinner.

  It seemed strange, sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by four young gentlemen, with Anita pandering to me as if I were a queen. When dinner was over, we left the gentlemen to their port and retired to the saloon.

  We were no sooner seated in front of the grate than she began apologizing and explaining once more about her and Otto. “I feel such a ninny-hammer! It did not mean a thing, Jessica.”

  "Then let us not discuss it any further,” I suggested.

  Then she started to harp at me about going with her to London, to Ireland, to Tunbridge Wells—anywhere, just so she had me under her wing.

  “I fear for you, alone here, my dear,” she said in an urgent voice. “Look at what happened to Felix! Do you believe that story about walking into a door? I do not. Someone attacked him. Who will be next? It is all to do with the money, of course. If the Farrs could eliminate you and the Chapmans, they would have the entire estate to themselves. I do not want to frighten you, Jess, but when that pistol went off this afternoon, I had a very strong impression Otto pushed my hand in your direction. It is my belief Horatio and Otto are in on it together. Why did Horatio load that gun when he was in the house and could not fire it?”

  “He meant to fire into the grate. Horatio, you know, is not terribly sensible.”

  “I agree that Otto is behind the scheme,” she said at once, putting her own interpretation on my words. “I shouldn’t be surprised if he imported that dog for no reason but to attack you. He wants the next murder to look like an accident, you see. You were wise to refuse to accept the dog.”

  I did not accept her troubling remarks holus-bolus, but naturally they gave me reason to worry. She watched me like a hawk. After a moment she said, “Did he offer for you? Otto, I mean? Is that why you are so out-of-reason cross with me?”

  “He made some facetious remark that he included himself amongst my suitors. Something of the sort.”

  “He would marry you in a minute if you’d have him.”

  “What of the lady he is betrothed to in London?”

  “It is not actually a betrothal. He has been seeing Lady Mary, but you know Otto. Her dot does not touch yours. Did you see how angry he was when you caught us flirting? Really there would be no hurry to kill you, if he could convince you to marry him. He would have the handling of the money, and could dispose of you at his leisure.”

  “What an ideal marriage it sounds, to be sure.”

  “Marriage is never ideal,” she said rather sadly. “If I were in your shoes, I would do just as you are doing, and not marry anyone. Though it is a shame to spit up the fortune when you could have the lot.”

  There was more talk of Ireland and Tunbridge Wells, and when I expressed not a jot of interest, she discussed Brighton, though winter was not the season for this fashionable seaside resort. Anita was familiar with all the fashionable pleasure haunts. Her life was one long, desperate search for pleasure.

  I was thoroughly fatigued by the time Gregory and Horatio joined us. I noticed Felix and Otto did not come into the saloon with the others, and inquired
for Felix, though it was Otto I was really curious about.

  “Felix has decided to pay his last visit to Weldon tonight,” Gregory explained.

  I was nervous for Felix’s safety. When I saw him putting on his coat in the hall, I went out for a word.

  “Must you go out alone at night?” I asked him.

  He peered nervously into the saloon. “This is the best time to go, while they are all here. And I shall have Jackson with me.”

  “You won’t have him with you on the way home. And Otto is not in the saloon. I don’t know where he has gone.”

  “He just stepped upstairs for a moment. Something to do with the Clarion, no doubt.”

  He accepted his hat from Juteclaw and said, “Thank you, Juteclaw. That will be all. I shall let myself out.”

  He waited until Juteclaw had returned to his cubby-hole before saying more. “Have you thought about coming with me tomorrow, Jessica? I would feel much easier in my mind if you would come. You could stay with friends of mine in London. My old professor of philosophy is retired and lives with his wife in a pleasant cottage on the Thames. You would be safe there. No one would know where you are.”

  It was more appealing than Anita’s offer, but hardly ideal either. Hettie had entrusted Downsview to me. How could I run it from London?

  "They will all be gone soon,” I said. "Then I shall be safe.”

  “Will you? If it were me, I would be worried every time I stepped out of the house. All it would take is one shot. There are so many trees in the park. Any one of them would provide excellent cover for a good marksman.”

  “That is certainly a frightening prospect. It makes me see that we must find the murderer, not run away from him, or I shall never feel safe.”

  After a frowning pause he said, “Perhaps you are right.”

  “Felix,” I said urgently, grabbing his hand, “who was it who beat you this afternoon? You did see him. You must have.”

  He gazed into my eyes and said, “On my honour, I did not, Jessica. Do you think I would stand idly by and let a murderer run loose? No, I did not see him.”

  “Did he try to murder you? How did you escape?”

  “It was sheer luck.”

  “But if he went after you with the intention of killing you, surely he must have had a weapon—a gun or a knife. He had your head covered. Why did he not finish the job?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, frowning harder. “Perhaps he saw someone coming. Just when I was sure he was going to kill me, he let go and rode away.”

  “He was mounted, then?”

  “He must have come on a horse. I heard a horse whickering in the distance. I think he whistled, and it came to him.”

  “You didn’t see if it was Aunt Hettie’s bay mare?”

  “I had a bag over my head. By the time I had wrestled it off, he was gone.”

  “Which direction did he ride? Was it towards Downsview?”

  “Yes. The man didn’t speak—not one word. I have been thinking about all this. He did ride towards Downsview and the fact that he did not speak makes me wonder if it wasn’t someone I know.” His eyes slid to the saloon.

  “Well, at least you are no longer pretending it was an unknown robber.”

  “It might have been that, too. I must go now.”

  I saw his carriage waiting at the front door. With a driver and Gentleman Jackson trotting alongside, I hoped he would be safe, but for one awful moment I feared this was the last time I would ever see Felix alive. Something came over me, and I reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He looked very surprised, then he smiled and returned a warmer kiss, just missing my lips.

  “My dear!” he said.

  There was such a look in his eyes! I knew at once he had misread my intention. "That was just for good luck!” I said.

  He gave an embarrassed smile. “Thank you.” Then he left at once, leaving me feeling foolish and gauche, and still concerned for his safety.

  When I turned, I saw Otto. He was coming down the staircase. His gait was stiff, and a cynical smile curved his lips.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I must rearrange my bet! It seems the dark horse is pulling into the lead in the marriage sweepstake,” Otto said, advancing. An angry light glowed in his dark eyes as he studied me.

  Far from being ashamed, I was thrilled to death that he had seen me kissing Felix. I tossed my head and replied coolly, “I was merely warning him to be careful.”

  “A kiss is not usually considered a warning, but an encouragement.”

  “Is that what you were doing with Anita, encouraging her? No doubt you know all about that, Otto.”

  A light blazed in his obsidian eyes. “I fancy I know more about it than—but comparisons are odious. You must judge for yourself.”

  He swept me into his arms, there in the public hallway where anyone might have seen us, and assaulted me with a violent, angry embrace. Before I could prevent it, his strong arms crushed me against him. The stiff silk of my gown emitted a squeak, echoing the muffled protest that sounded in my throat. He paid no heed to either sound, but continued his attack, his hot lips firming to passion as I struggled to free myself. The harder I tried to escape, the harder his arms bound me to him. I felt as helpless as a kitten caught by a tiger.

  A hot anger welled up in me that he dared to treat me as he had no doubt treated that trollop, Mrs. Rampling. I do not know when, or how, the anger was transmuted into something else, but as the kiss bore on and my struggles proved in vain, a more languorous feeling invaded me. A sensation of golden ease washed through my limbs, turning them to water. Otto was like an alchemist of yore, turning lead to gold. What had begun as an outright attack grew gentler as I ceased to resist, yet its effect was stronger.

  I felt the heat of his lips inflaming mine. The flame spread to my chest, warming my whole body with its strange radiance, until I was glowing with an unknown euphoria. It was not love, at least not the sort of tame, unrequited love I had always felt for Otto. It was something entirely different—wilder, ecstatic, insatiable. Common sense abandoned me entirely. I forgot we were embracing in a public hallway. I could scarcely remember my name; how should I think of propriety? The only thought in my whole body was Otto, Otto, Otto!

  When he had me suitably subdued, he slowly released me. I read the smile of satisfaction on his lips and despised myself, and him. My little triumph was that he was shaken too. There was a wild confusion in his eyes, though he tried to conceal it.

  I wrenched away from him with a glare. “Is one assault a night not enough for you?”

  “I did not assault Anita Rampling!”

  “In her case, there may well have been compliance. If you are quite finished molesting me—”

  “For the time being,” he said, turning cynical again. “Just a word of caution, my pet, as you are so obviously a novice at this game. Next time a gentleman takes into his head to molest you, I would advise a little less cooperation on your part, or you will give him the notion you enjoy it.”

  “I assure you I did not enjoy it for one second.”

  “Ah well. I cannot hope to compete with the amorous Felix. I felt, myself, that it was one of my more successful efforts. Of course I lacked a wound. There is nothing like a wound to raise a lady’s pity, and pity is akin to love, if we are to believe common gossip. I wonder if that is why Felix did it.”

  “Are you suggesting he wounded himself? Don’t be absurd! He could hardly strike himself on the forehead.”

  “It would require more fortitude than I possess, but then Felix is a horse of another colour—a darker colour, as we have already established. I wager he did not walk into a door, in any case.”

  “Of course not. He was obviously attacked.”

  “And yet he has the courage to go out alone at night. A veritable hero—or a fool. Or perhaps a scoundrel,” he added pensively.

  “There is a scoundrel in the house, true enough, but it is not Felix Chapman.”

  �
�No, he is not here, at the moment. I suppose he has made you an offer?” His voice was almost bored, but his sharp eyes betrayed his interest.

  “A lady does not boast of an offer unless or until she has accepted it,” I parried.

  “So he did offer.”

  “I did not say so.”

  “You did not say no. I should like to have heard him trying to do the pretty with a lady. What quotation did he be-thump you with? Amor omnia vincit?”

  “Nothing so pedestrian. French, not English or Latin, is the language of love, is it not?”

  “Je crois que oui, ma chère. Parles-tu français?”

  I knew at least that “tu” suggested greater intimacy than “vous,” and said, “We spoke plain English.”

  His brows lowered in annoyance. “I would not rule young Felix out, when you are counting up scoundrels, Jess. He has as much to gain as any of us by marrying you.”

  “What he would gain from marrying me is only money. That means nothing to him.”

  “Then he is unique in all the annals of mankind. Even a scholar might covet a more handsome presentation of his own oeuvre. Fancy Egyptian leather, gilt trim, perhaps. If he is any sort of scholar at all, he must have a hankering for a rare and expensive collection of books. Old Lord Arnoldson has his library up for sale, I hear.”

  “That is arrant nonsense! He does not care—”

  “Does he not? Before you offer up his shiny jackets as a defense—”

  “There is no need to defend the innocent.”

  “Surely you are mistaken! Is it not everyone’s duty to defend the innocent?”

  “You know perfectly well what I mean!”

  “I am afraid I do. You mean Felix is considered above suspicion.”

  That was not exactly what I meant, but I accepted it. “Let us return to the saloon. They will all be wondering what we are up to.”

  “No, they won’t. Anita has been peering round the door-jamb. She is bound to tell them. She lacks your ladylike quality of knowing when to remain silent and content herself with angry glares. You did a formidable job over dinner, my pet. I congratulate you. Hettie herself could not have mounted a higher horse. How I longed to topple you from your perch!”