The Lovegrove Hermit
Page 18
‘What are you going to do with him – put him in the laundry?’ she enquired.
‘I expect so but I don’t see any reason for you to be involved. I understand you planned to go home tomorrow?’
‘We hoped so,’ said George ruefully, ‘but I suppose we’ll have to postpone our departure yet again.’
‘It’s not strictly necessary. There are two perfectly adequate witnesses in Bates and me and I’m sure that now the murderer is dead, the coroner will be quite content to keep the proceedings quiet in order to spare the Denby family further trouble. If you make a written statement I’m sure that will suffice,’ he told me.
George looked relieved. ‘We’ll all be glad to get away,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you will.’ Colonel Hartley gave me a despondent look and I was not quite sure what to make of it; regret perhaps, even yearning. His face still bore the grime of the morning’s adventure and his scarred and swollen cheek distorted his expression.
We left the next morning at the same time as the Lawrences. Lady Denby and Sir Ralph saw us off with many regretful farewells. The former declared she was not at all sure she could go on living at Lovegrove after the succession of tragedies that had befallen the house.
‘So if you come to stay with us again it may well be in another place. But we must keep in touch. I will let you know what transpires.’
When we were under way, Sophie said, anxiously, ‘Do we have to invite them to stay with us in return? Sir Ralph would be an agreeable guest but—’
‘Her ladyship is insufferable,’ Elinor completed the sentence for her.
‘Well, there’s no need to think about it yet,’ said George comfortably, glad to be returning to the peace and ease of Fairfield.
We passed the gates of the Hartleys’ park a little while after leaving Lovegrove. I thought somehow he would be waiting there to say goodbye, but there was no one. I could have echoed Amelia Denby’s cry the night Louisa Thorpe died: ‘I feel so desolate!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
George and Sophie settled back happily into our normal life at Fairfield. Elinor too seemed very pleased with her new surroundings and became quite cheerful and amiable.
‘I asked her about Frederick Lawrence and she said she liked him but didn’t really know him,’ Sophie told me. ‘I think she was encouraged by the fact that a young man showed a genuine interest in her. I’ve persuaded her to do something different with her hair and I’ve given her a couple of my sashes and lots of ribbons to brighten up her bonnets and gowns.’
‘We’ll make a flirt of her yet,’ I smiled.
Colonel Hartley wrote to George twice giving details of the legal proceedings following the death of Frank Rushworth. Each letter concluded with kindest regards ‘to your sister and daughter’.
Then there came a letter for me, written in his rapid, sloping hand. It consisted of little more than a couple of sentences:
‘I think of you constantly; I hope you sometimes think of me. Let me know if you wish to see me again. Be assured I always have your best interests at heart. John Hartley.’
That was all. After our hazardous adventures, our closeness, that kiss … I wrote back, maintaining a rather reserved tone, saying that I certainly could not forget him and would be pleased to see him any time he was in the vicinity of Fairfield.
Several more weeks passed by. We heard from Lady Denby, who, having got over her resolution to leave Lovegrove, had begun to feel more secure. She was finishing her novel and was on good terms with Rowland, who had eventually settled in a cottage in Ashdale with his wife and child. I fancied that Carrie would not like a dull provincial life and would be pining for London but at least the baby, Arabella, had been introduced to her grandmama and Rowland was probably hoping his wife would soon be welcomed at Lovegrove.
There had been an inquest on Frank Rushworth and his crimes exposed. As expected a verdict of suicide was returned and the previous findings on his victims revised. This meant that the body of James Rushworth could at last be given Christian burial.
The funeral took place at Lovegrove parish church and was attended by the dead man’s cousin who was next heir to the Devonshire estate. Colonel Hartley was also one of the chief mourners and although the congregation was small, the ceremony proceeded with appropriate dignity. Unfortunately the aged vicar, poor Mr Phillips, collapsed with a stroke after the service and was quite incapacitated. He was retiring from his duties and it was likely that young Frederick Lawrence would take over the living. I was pleased to hear this for Elinor’s sake. Whatever came of their burgeoning friendship at least she would have a kindred spirit close at hand to share her interests.
The last part of Lady Denby’s letter was most interesting for me: ‘Colonel Hartley talks of visiting your part of the country soon. I am going to ask him to call on you and escort Elinor home. Her father misses her.’
The following week took us into September and already a misty melancholy had settled over the early mornings – a hint of the coming autumn. One golden afternoon I was sitting on the terrace with the two girls. I was sketching, Sophie sewing and Elinor reading.
Sophie looked up suddenly. ‘Here’s Papa!’ she said.
George came towards us smiling and held out his hands to me. ‘Someone is here to see you,’ he said. ‘He says he’d prefer to meet you outside. Go round to the front of the house.’ He leaned closer and kissed me on the cheek.
‘I think I know what all this is about,’ he whispered. ‘I wish you every happiness.’
There was no need to ask who the visitor might be. I ran around the house and then slowed to a decorous walk, not wishing to appear too eager. He stood between the columns of the porch, a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a dark-blue coat with an empty sleeve.
‘Colonel Hartley,’ I said, extending my hand. ‘I am so glad to see you.’
‘I can’t call you Miss Tyler – not now – and I thought I once asked you to call me John.’
‘So you did, but in very unusual circumstances. It seems a long time ago now and not quite real.’
‘Shall we walk? Out of sight of the house. Take my arm – it will always have to be the right one.’
‘I wondered why you never came to say goodbye when we left Lovegrove.’
‘It was not because I didn’t want to but I thought it best to put an interval between us. We had known each other only a short time but we had grown very close. Shared danger draws people together but there’s not necessarily any real depth to it – nothing permanent. I wanted you to be absolutely sure of your feelings. Back in your old home you could have looked on me very differently.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘I didn’t want you to imagine you loved me because we once clung together for comfort and kissed from sheer joy and relief at having survived. I wanted to give you a chance to break free without feeling any obligation.’
‘I’ve missed you more than I can say,’ I said. We were surrounded by trees, rustling in the breeze, screening us from the rest of the world.
He drew me close and we exchanged a long and increasingly passionate kiss.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that since the day we met,’ he said at last, ‘but at that stage I had to show restraint. Besides …’ He hesitated a little. ‘I’m such a disfigured, carved-up wreck I feared I might repulse you.’
In reply I stood on tiptoe and kissed the furrow in his cheek.
‘Ah,’ he smiled, ‘that’s encouraging! I have several other scars which you can’t see at present but I hope it won’t be too long before you make their acquaintance.’
‘Very soon, I hope.’
‘I think we’d better marry as early as legally possible before you change your mind and run off with some handsome young rake.’
‘How could I?’
‘At least he’d have two arms to embrace you.’
‘One is quite enough. I’m sure Lady Hamilton had no complaints.’
We kissed again and were marr
ied by licence before the month was out.
By the Same Author
The Secret House
The Abbey Governess
Templewood
The Dark City
Surgeons’ Square
The Crooked Street
Devil’s Folly
Copyright
© Rosemary Craddock 2013
First published in Great Britain 2013
This edition 2013
ISBN 978 0 7198 1279 8 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1280 4 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1281 1 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1106 7 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Rosemary Craddock to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988