by Dawn Harris
After my father’s death it was kindness that had overset me the most, and so it was now. My aunt’s frequent criticisms of the servants did not make her popular with them, but she was my aunt and the only way they could help me at present was to attend to her needs. Uttering a choked, ‘Thank you,’ I rushed off to change into a black riding habit.
Minutes later Lucie and I hurried out to the waiting horses, and I said, ‘You go to Ledstone with Mudd - I’ll be along later.’
‘Why?’ she asked, bewildered. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To the beach. To see if any wreckage has been washed up yet.’
The cliff was much lower at Hokewell than further round the bay, the hamlet itself being too unsightly to encourage visitors, which suited the local smugglers. Although the long curving sweep of the coastline from Hokewell to Dittistone in the distance was a delight to the eye.
On the low cliff top, a cluster of grim-faced villagers stood watching Thorpe, the local Riding Officer, meticulously searching the area, and as I tethered Orlando, I asked if anyone had seen anything. But no-one had. Thorpe, one of four Riding Officers patrolling the coastline of the Island, was particularly zealous in carrying out his duties, and therefore hated by the local populace. He willingly showed me where he’d found Thomas’s body, and explained, ‘I was riding to Dittistone to visit a friend, but I always keep an eye open for anything unusual, even when I’m off duty. You wouldn’t believe some of the things they get up to, ma’am. Submerging the stuff offshore with a heavy weight and retrieving it with a grapnel when it suits them. Or they’ll bury the contraband in the sand and recover it later. And that’s what I thought it was when I first caught sight of something on the beach. Only when I got closer did I realise it was a body.’ He turned to me with genuine sadness. ‘You can imagine how I felt when I saw it was Mr Thomas.’
No words could convey my own feelings, so I simply said, ‘What did you do then?’
‘I sent one of the locals to fetch the parson. Him being the proper person to tell the family at Ledstone Place. Only he’d left for Newport an hour earlier. By chance, the constable was in Hokewell, and he came down straightaway. He went as white as a sheet when he saw Mr Thomas, and then someone came running along the cliff saying there was another body.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I don’t mind telling you ma’am, I could have wept when young master Tom was brought up from the beach. The constable was fair trembling at the thought of having to break the news at Ledstone. I was thankful I didn’t have to do it, especially when I heard Mr Giles had gone to Carisbrooke for the day, and only Mrs Saxborough was at home.’
I asked him if the yacht could have foundered on the underwater ledges that ran along this part of the west coast. As many ships, large and small, had done over the centuries. Removing his hat, he scratched his head. ‘I don’t see how, ma’am. It was calm last night, and Mr Thomas knew this coast like the back of his hand.’
After requesting Thorpe to inform me of anything that did come ashore, however insignificant, I went on to Ledstone. The stable yard was eerily quiet; no cheerful chatter, or grooms whistling as they went about their work, and I handed Orlando over to Mudd, who told me the parson had arrived a few minutes ago.
Parker already had the door open, and relieving me of my crop and riding gloves, spoke in a low, urgent tone. ‘Thank heavens you’ve come, my lady. Mrs Saxborough has been asking for you this past hour or more.’
His face told me the full extent of my godmother’s distress. ‘Is Miss Lucie with her?’
‘She is, which Mr Giles was very thankful for, what with the parson insisting Mrs Saxborough needed spiritual guidance. If you’ll forgive me for talking plainly my lady, we all know what she thinks of him,’ he observed, raising his brows eloquently, and speaking in the confidential manner of a trusted servant who had watched me grow up, and could still remember scolding me for sliding backwards down the Ledstone banister rail.
‘Indeed,’ I murmured, as I removed my hat.
‘Mr Giles took Mr Upton into the library, and that’s why I had the door open. It wouldn’t do for the parson to find out other visitors were allowed, when he was not.’
I half smiled. ‘Then I shall be very quiet, Parker. Tell me, has the doctor been sent for?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Good.’ I glanced up the wide staircase. ‘I take it Mrs Saxborough is in her bedchamber?’
He sighed. ‘She retired there the moment the news came - just like when we heard of Mr Saxborough’s accident. The servants are all in tears. None of us can believe it.’ Almost overcome himself, he swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t know what to say to Mr Giles when he came in.’
‘None of us knows what to say, Parker,’ I assured him sadly.
I walked up the stairs, tapped softly on the door of my godmother’s bedchamber, and went in to find her propped up in bed by a mass of pillows, quietly weeping. The room was filled with the aroma of roses from her favourite perfume, and the curtains were half drawn. Lucie sat beside the bed and as I closed the door, Marguerite held out her hand to me, sobbing, ‘Drusilla, thank goodness you’re here. I never meant it, you know, not for a moment.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ I agreed soothingly. Not knowing what she was talking about, I lifted an inquiring eyebrow at Lucie, whose infinitesimal shake of her head suggested it was not significant. In fact, uppermost in my godmother’s mind was regret for a remark she’d made in my hearing not long ago.
‘I did say I wished Giles could inherit Ledstone, because it would be so very much more comfortable,’ she confessed, mopping her eyes with a perfumed handkerchief. ‘But I would never have said it if I’d known Thomas and his poor boy were going to drown.’
‘Of course you wouldn’t have,’ Lucie said. She knew instinctively how to calm her, and did so with very real affection. Giles had chosen his bride wisely, for this sweet child would never come between him and his mother.
‘And I know I said I didn’t want to leave Ledstone. But if spending the rest of my days in those cold, draughty rooms at Norton House would bring Thomas and young Tom back, I would gladly do so. Even if a chill on the lungs carried me off, as it very soon would do.’
We did all we could to pacify her, but still the tears flowed, and suddenly she clutched my hand. ‘Drusilla, I’m frightened.’
‘There’s nothing to fear---’
‘But there is,’ she cried, her voice rising hysterically. ‘Don’t you see - everyone I love is being taken from me, one by one. First Cuthbert, and now Thomas and his poor boy.’ She shook visibly, as she voiced her greatest fear. ‘Next time it could be Giles----’ Breaking into such heartrending sobs I decided to ask Dr Redding to look in on her.
Marguerite had been fond of Cuthbert, in her way, for he doted on her. As for Thomas and young Tom, she accepted rather than loved them. Not worrying over their welfare, yet wishing them no harm. But, Giles was a different matter. He was the only person she had ever really loved in her entire life. As long as he was safe, she could survive any other catastrophe.
Going to fetch Marguerite a clean handkerchief I saw Dr Redding riding up to the house, and while he was with my godmother I quietly slipped into the back parlour where the bodies were.
The curtains were drawn, and a single candle burnt on the mantle shelf above the fireplace. I found myself shivering, even though the room was warm, but I had come to see the bodies for myself, and this was my only chance. Picking up the candle with an unsteady hand, I crossed to where they lay, pulling back the covering sheets before my courage failed me.
CHAPTER NINE
When I found Cuthbert Saxborough’s body, I had not been prepared for the sickness in my stomach, or the sense of disbelief. And nor was I now. Thomas’s face was white, the skin on his neck sagging into folds of icy coldness, and I was filled with a deep sadness. But it was the sight of young Tom that upset me most. Touching his cold cheek, I wept unashamedly. I had always been fond of him, and to see him ly
ing there with the air squeezed out of his lungs, when at fourteen he should have had his whole life before him, filled me with a sense of utter helplessness.
Hurriedly drying my eyes, being aware Dr. Redding might come in at any minute, I looked for any clue as to what had happened. It wasn’t easy to see by candlelight, but to open the curtains seemed wrong, and I worked as best I could under the dim, flickering flame. Their clothes were full of sand, their shoes and stockings missing. Thomas had a few coins in his pocket, but I saw no signs of violence, just a few superficial marks probably caused through being washed up on the beach. The Saxborough ring, which Thomas had worn proudly since the death of his father, was missing, and I presumed Giles had removed it for safe keeping.
Dr Redding came into the room just as I was replacing the sheets. An intelligent bachelor of about thirty, rather good looking with dark brown eyes and hair, he relied largely on common sense in his dealings with patients. On seeing me, he stood stock-still in the doorway, an expression of horror on his face. ‘Forgive me ma’am, but this is hardly the place for a lady.’
‘No, and I can’t offer you any sensible explanation, except that I wished to see the bodies for myself.’
His countenance relaxed at this, and shutting the door, he set his bag down on a chair. ‘After an accident of this kind, some people do find a sight of the bodies helps them accept the truth.’ He ran a hand distractedly through his dark hair. ‘To be truthful with you ma’am, in this case, I have some difficulty in believing it myself.’
He promised to inform me of his conclusions, and told me he’d given Marguerite a sleeping draught. Realising the examinations might take some time, I went up to my godmother to find the sleeping draught had already taken effect. Lucie sat by the window, looking out at a sea mist that was beginning to engulf the garden. I had entered the room so quietly she didn’t realise I was there until I touched her arm, and when she turned her head I saw her face was wet with tears.
Drying her eyes, she whispered, ‘I can’t stop thinking about Thomas and young Tom. It’s so unfair Drusilla, they both had everything to live for.’ It did not seem to have occurred to this sweet child that Ledstone, with all its riches, now belonged to Giles. When it did, I thought, it would sadden her greatly that so much wealth should come to them at such a cost.
Lucie suggested we took turns to sit with Marguerite, offering to do so first. Returning downstairs, I asked the housekeeper to prepare rooms for Lucie and myself, before going into the library to write an explanatory note to my aunt. Walking down to the stables through the thickening mist, I sent Mudd home with the note, instructing him to return in the morning.
Going back to the drawing room to await Dr. Redding, and wandering restlessly about the room, I happened to glance up at the much prized painting of William Saxborough, with his second wife and seven daughters. William, the family’s most famous ancestor, was also the most notorious, having supposedly murdered his first wife, although father and I failed to find any real proof when researching for his book, which after two hundred years wasn’t surprising.
But Thomas and Tom had died only this morning; surely it would be easier to find out the truth about them. Looking into William’s evil eyes, I soon turned away, convinced they were mocking me.
When Dr. Redding returned he begged my pardon for keeping me waiting, saying Giles had asked a lot of questions. ‘Most of which will be in your mind too ma’am, I imagine. But first I should tell you that, in my opinion, drowning was the cause of death in both cases.’
I drew a deep breath. ‘You are absolutely certain?’
‘As far as I can be. I found no signs of violence.’
‘I see,’ I said, sinking into the nearest chair. ‘Can you say how long they were in the water?’
He pursed his lips. ‘It’s difficult to be precise, but living here, I’ve seen many drowned men, and I would say it wasn’t more than an hour or two. They were probably washed up at high tide, which I gather was soon after four.’ Opening his bag, he handed me a further sleeping draught for Marguerite, should I consider it necessary. ‘I’ll call again tomorrow morning.’
I asked if he believed Thomas and Tom had died as a result of an accident, and he glanced at me thoughtfully. ‘You mean bearing in mind what happened to Cuthbert Saxborough?’
‘That is what I mean, yes,’ I acknowledged, appreciative of his quick understanding.
‘Well, it has the appearance of an accident ma’am, but I wouldn’t like to commit myself, without knowing how, or why, they came to be in the water. Finding the answer to that, I am glad to say,’ he said, firmly shutting his bag, ‘is not part of my duties.’
After he’d left the house, Parker advised me Giles was still engaged. Not with the parson, who having been told Mrs Saxborough was sleeping, had left long ago. But there were arrangements to make, the coroner to inform, and now Thorpe, the riding officer, was with him.
So I took a brisk walk around the grounds, although the eerie quietness of the mist made everything seem even more unreal. But there was nothing unreal about those two bodies. Dr. Redding said Thomas and his son had drowned. I did not doubt it. Nor did I doubt that Cuthbert Saxborough had broken his neck when thrown by his horse. But what had caused Cuthbert to be thrown? Had the gate been closed after his murder, as I believed? And how had Thomas and Tom come to be in the water?
As for Giles, this terrible happening would change his life, making him a man of great importance on the Island. But it would be a long time before he stopped grieving for Thomas and young Tom.
When I returned to the house, Giles was awaiting me in the drawing room, and he instantly rose to his feet, thanking me for looking after Marguerite. Once we were both seated, he began to talk of the tragedy. ‘I don’t understand how it happened, Drusilla. There hasn’t been a storm, and no boat was ever kept more seaworthy.’ He passed a hand across his eyes. ‘Even though I have seen the bodies, and touched them---’ Faltering, he looked down at his hands, struggling to control his voice as it broke up. ‘I still cannot believe they are really dead.’
Before I could speak, Parker came in to set out a cold collation. ‘I took a tray up to Miss Lucie first, as your ordered, sir.’
‘Thank you.’ He looked up at his butler, the faintest of smiles touching his lips. ‘I see cook has put out some ham.’
‘She thought it might tempt you to eat, sir.’
Thoughtfulness that so nearly overcame Giles it was some moments before he could trust himself to speak. ‘Thank cook for me, Parker. I should be grateful if you would convey my gratitude to all the servants for the way they have kept the house running today.’
As Parker quietly closed the door behind him, Giles turned to me with a rueful smile, ‘Would you believe, I’m famished. Isn’t that extraordinary?’ He picked up a plate. ‘Can I help you to something?’ Giles, first and foremost a gentleman, never forgot his manners. Only then did I realise how hungry I was too, gratefully accepting a plate of cold meats and a glass of wine. Giles went on, ‘Thorpe tells me you went down to the beach yourself.’
‘Yes,’ I said, cutting into a thick slice of beef. ‘To see if there was any wreckage.’
‘Thomas wouldn’t have foundered on the ledge, Drusilla.’
‘I can’t believe it either, but it must be considered.’
Mechanically he went on, as much to convince himself as me. ‘Thomas knew every inch of that ledge, and in any case, the sea was like a mill pond last night. I should know, I was almost becalmed coming back across the Solent.’ Giles twisted the stem of his glass in his fingers, swallowed what was left of his wine, and placed the empty glass on the table. ‘I just can’t think what could have gone wrong. Unless — unless Tom fell overboard in the darkness------’
‘And Thomas jumped in to rescue him, you mean?’ For they were both strong swimmers.
He lifted his shoulders. ‘It’s the only thing I can think of.’
‘Surely he would have tied a line to his wais
t first? Unless it came adrift.’
Giles refilled his wine glass. ‘Thomas was careless about many things, but the life of his son wasn’t one of them. He would have made doubly sure the line was secure. Anyway, there was no line attached to his body.’
‘Nor the mark of one round his waist.’
His eyes flickered in surprise. ‘How do you know that? Did Dr. Redding tell you?’
‘No. I looked for myself while the doctor was with your Mama.’ Giles choked on his wine, and as he stared at me aghast I said, ‘I thought I might see something that explained the accident.’
For a moment he gazed at me in disbelieving silence. ‘And did you?’
I shook my head. ‘I did notice Thomas wasn’t wearing the Saxborough ring, but I presume you removed that for safe keeping.’
‘Me?’ Giles touched the middle of his chest with an index finger. ‘No, the ring was missing when I saw Thomas.’ Reminded of the bodies, he shuddered. ‘Thorpe said the ring wasn’t on T-Thomas’s f-finger w-when—’ He sat staring into his glass, biting his trembling lip, striving to regain control. Eventually he said, as if it was of no consequence, ‘It must have fallen off in the sea.’ He looked up at me. ‘Dr. Redding was kindness itself. He said that in his experience, misfortunes have a nasty habit of coming together.’
‘There is a good deal of truth in that.’ Gently I reminded him of fishermen drowned at sea, some families losing more than one son on the same night. But those kind of mishaps, where a man was swept overboard in bad weather, or a boat was lost in a sudden squall, were more likely to be witnessed by other fishermen, and so could be explained. I was quite certain no witnesses to this tragedy would be found.
Pushing back his chair, he stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse me Drusilla, I must look in on Mama.’ I reminded him the doctor had given her a sleeping draught. ‘I’d forgotten that. Still, I would like to see her for myself.’
Giles adored his mother, and watching him go out the door, his shoulders hunched with exhaustion, my heart went out to him, for Giles was very dear to me. We had grown up together, and I knew him inside out. I understood how his mind worked and what was important to him; I was familiar with his kind ways, his courage, humour, thoughtfulness and honesty. A gentle man in every sense, he had a great respect for all living creatures. Even as a child, he had carried spiders outside rather than squash them.
