Mally : Signet Regency Romance (9781101568057)

by Heath, Sandra

  Chris looked doubtful. “I still think it unlikely Turney is guilty.”

  Annabel frowned. “Well, I think Richard and Mally are right.”

  “Why? Have you a good reason, or merely a feeling?”

  “A good reason. Turney is the one who’s been whipping up feeling, and that points to needing a scapegoat—Abel. The poor man is the ideal subject upon which to center all the mistrust and superstition. And there’s something else, something I heard during my first week here when we couldn’t leave the house because of the weather. Pattie said that the first person to discover Mrs. Harmon’s body was Mrs. Turney. Mrs. Turney, who’d never been a particular friend of the old lady, and yet who took it into her head to take a basket of fruit to her at nearly midnight! That basket takes a little bit of swallowing. I’ll warrant Jasper was just making sure the murder was discovered while Abel was still around, and if the unpleasant Brew Darril had seen Abel, then it was worth the try. And I think that Turney now thinks Maria saw them at the old lady’s house too, and that’s why he came to London and to Mally’s house.”

  Chris pursed his lips. “All right, I’ll grant you there is a good deal of circumstantial evidence—”

  Mally looked at him. “Circumstantial? Then why did he come to London?”

  “How do you know it was him?”

  “I just do.”

  “There you are,” said Chris, “it’s still guesswork. Richard, why didn’t you take the wretched Andrew to Stiller instead of leaving him here? Surely you could have got him out without the whole of Llanglyn knowing?”

  “We could have, if it had not been for both Nathaniel and Stiller advising against moving him. I begin to weary of it all now—”

  Mally looked quickly at him. “Don’t say that.”

  “Well, I must be honest. I don’t think we shall get anywhere with Andrew. There is nothing I would like more than to be able to prove Turney’s guilt and to have Andrew well once more. But I do not think either will happen.”

  “But Andrew’s hand moved—”

  “Mally,” said Chris, “an animal will twitch even after death. Andrew’s hand probably moved because of some nerve, that’s all.”

  “But if it was a real reaction?”

  Richard lowered his eyes. “If it was, then there is still some hope.”

  Annabel stood, crossing to the window to look out. “And there is still only circumstantial evidence of a very vague kind for any court of law. If there was something solid.”

  “Such as?” asked Chris, leaning back in his chair to look at her. “A letter of confession?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. I don’t know what, do I? Anyway, we should go to see Maria and Andrew, don’t you think? Perhaps seeing him—”

  There was a knock at the door and Louis entered, bowing as he stood aside for Dr. Towers to come in.

  “Good morning, ladies, gentlemen. Oh, driving in this weather is hardly a relaxing exercise.”

  Richard ushered him to a seat. “Then take some breakfast with us and recover, my friend. What brings you up here so early?”

  “Well—” The doctor glanced around the room doubtfully.

  “It’s all right, Nathaniel, they know all about it. Has something happened?” Richard’s smile faded as he sensed Nathaniel’s unease.

  “Well, yes, something has, Richard. Last night Jasper, Jacob, and Brew Darril opened the grave.”

  “You are sure?”

  “I saw them, Richard. I sat up for two hours or more, freezing to the bone, watching from the attic window. They opened it, inspected the coffin, and then closed it all up again.”

  Chris smiled. “There’s your proof, Richard. They could only have one reason for looking in that grave.”

  “They could be robbing graves. I understand there is a demand for bodies for medical purposes,” pointed out Annabel.

  “Bodies over a month old are hardly suitable unless a skeleton is required. Even the most dedicated hospital would be put off by a moldering body.”

  “Don’t,” she said, looking slightly sick.

  Richard glanced at Nathaniel. “You didn’t think of getting someone else to witness it with you, did you?”

  “Oh, yes, I know that my word is to be doubted at the moment. I roused my housekeeper from her bed and she saw it too. You have two witnesses, Richard.”

  “We must hope that this is enough then.”

  “It should be,” said Chris. “Anyway, I shall go to the fort at Abergavenny. It’s quite surprising how much weight a mere title has. I shall sally forth in the landau looking my most splendid.”

  “I shall come with you. Two titles are better than one.” Annabel turned from the window to smile at him.

  “Think of the impropriety,” he pointed out.

  “I am,” she rejoined. “With luck I might even be compromised.”

  Mally laughed. “Oh, Annabel, you deserve him, truly you do—”

  Chris flushed, but he was smiling. “Very well, Lady Annabel, come with me.”

  “At my peril?”

  “No. At mine.”

  ***

  Later that morning the landau moved slowly down the lane, passing over snapped twigs and torn leaves. The trees shuddered as the gale gusted relentlessly, and their branches scratched over the top of the carriage. Above, the heavy clouds still scudded low over the Black Mountains, hiding the summits in a veil of mist and rain. At the foot of the hill the coachman halted the team of roans as the doctor’s pony and trap came splashing across the ford toward it. Chris leaned out.

  Unseen, behind the thick hedge with its drapes of old man’s beard, Brew Darril was setting a rabbit snare. He crept closer, listening to what was being said.

  “What is it, Dr. Towers?” asked Chris.

  “The stagecoach has just come in, Sir Christopher. The Abergavenny road’s blocked by two or three fallen trees—they caught the storm badly up there.”

  “Damn. Is there another ford? Hereford perhaps?”

  “Yes, that’s the nearest, but it’s further—”

  “It will have to do. Thank you for coming.”

  “I thought I’d miss you. Well, good luck, Sir Christopher. Lady Annabel.”

  The landau lurched on again, and Brew ran his long fingers slowly over the snare. Then he set it carefully by the burrow, concealing it with leaves and grass.

  ***

  Jasper poured three mugs of strong ale and pushed them across the table. “You sure, Brew?”

  “I ’eard what I ’eard. There en’t no mistake. I knowed as that damned leech was watchin’ last night, it was a fool notion to look in the grave.”

  “I ’ad to know. Once and fer all.”

  “Well, now you knows and look where it’s got us, an’ all.”

  Jasper turned on him. “You pickin’ faults, my fine lad? Eh?”

  “No.” Brew backed down immediately. “It’s just—well, we didn’t need any more proof, did we? That fancy Miss Mally ’ave gone scuttlin’ up there, we guessed as ’er sister’s up there an’ all.” Jasper glanced around the tap room. “I thought as she was in Lunnon, mind, I could ’ave swore it were ’er in that window. Can’t tell them Berrisford wenches apart sometimes. Any road, we’re damned sure they’m both up at the castle now. On top of that we know as the leech and Vallender ’ave lied ’bout the Jamaican feller. I thought as the wench was all we needed ’ave worried over, but if York en’t dead—”

  “He may be alive, Jasper,” said Brew thoughtfully, “but there must be sommat diddicky wi’ ’en—why else ’ave that leech been cuttin’ a furrow ’twixt here and there, eh?”

  Jasper turned savagely on his younger brother. “Call yourself a slingman, our Jacob? Damn fool I was to trust the likes of you.”

  “It weren�
�t my fault!”

  “Never is. Any road, Brew, did you find what you’d gone up to the woods to find?”

  “Happen. I’d like it better if there was another way, though.”

  Jasper drained his mug. “Such as? Look, Brew, the wench is alive and up at the castle, but I reckons now as she can’t have seen us, else we’d have been took long since. But York’s up there, and he’s alive. He’s the one as we’ve got to fear, for we knows as he saw us. I ’ad a friend once, ’it his damn fool head and was laid out for a week. Then he got up, grand as you like, like nothing’d ’appened. That there York might do just the same.” He smiled. “But that fancy carriage ’ave got to get all the way to Hereford, all of a day’s journey. Th’army won’t be ’ere afore sometime tomorrow. My lads, we got all tonight to attend to York.”

  Jacob swallowed. “But, Jasper, we know as the leech saw us at the grave last night! What if he got that there housekeeper of ’is to look an’ all? He en’t daft, ’e knows as ’is word won’t be took by itself no more.”

  Jasper grinned at Brew. “That Prissy Davies? Well, Brew, my handsome, that’s your corner of the woods, en’ it?”

  “Aw, but, Jasper—”

  “She’ve been sweet on you long enough, Brew. You make sure as she gets a little cuddling—she’ll not admit to anything then, will she? Eh?”

  Jacob sniggered, falling silent as Brew’s cold eyes swung to him. Jasper brought more ale. “Tonight then. We’ll ’ave to get on up to that there castle.”

  “An’ just walk in, I suppose?” said Jacob. “Over the drawbridges as large as life!”

  “No, my fool of a brother. There’s another way in, one as everyone’s ’eard of but never seen in many a year.”

  Jacob’s eyes widened with fear. “No, Jasper, not through there, I couldn’t! No one’d dare go there!”

  “You’d rather swing, would you? I’ll tek on ghosties any day afore I’d tek a rope neckerchief. Brew’ve found it, Jacob, and we’m goin’ to get rid of those as is dangerous to us once and for all. Work it out, the Jamaican and the wench can’t know anything. ’Tis just York. Without ’im they got nothin’ on us. Without ’im—” He paused, grinning. “Without ’im, we got all them sparklin’ diamonds to usselves, and our passage to America. We’m goin’ to be rich, my laddos—but not if we messes up tonight, for tonight be our only chance!”

  Chapter 25

  It was the middle of the afternoon when, quite suddenly, the wind abated. Perhaps it happened gradually, but to Mally it seemed that it was abrupt, as if someone had closed a door. She took a thick shawl and went up the damp, worn steps leading up to the walk around the curtain wall. From there she could look over the entire valley, and beyond.

  Llanglyn crouched by the ford, and wisps of smoke rose steadily in the windless air. In the park close to the castle they were burning parts of the chestnut tree and the wood smoke smelled sweet as it drifted over her. The sky was still gray, but it was lighter as if just through a thin layer of moisture the sun might be shining. She had stood here with Daniel once, on the day they pretended to be the lord and lady of Castell Melyn—

  Now you are my damsel, Mally. But first you’ve got to pay a forfeit—

  Oh, Daniel, I don’t want to.

  A forfeit, Mally.

  She could see him now, his light brown hair and laughing eyes, holding the wooden sword he had made from two pieces of willow lashed together with reeds.

  A forfeit, Mally. A proper forfeit.

  She shivered, pushing her hair back as one stray breath of breeze wandered around the battlements. The flag stirred slightly and then fell back. The spire of St. Crispin’s rose from the cluster of roofs in the valley and she could see the dark green patches of the yew trees in the churchyard. Daniel was down there now, not up here at the castle—

  Maria came along the walk and leaned next to her. “Deep in thought, sister mine?”

  “I was remembering, that’s all.”

  “Daniel?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s two years, Mally—”

  “I know.”

  “That’s what it was with you and Chris, wasn’t it?”

  Mally smiled. “Well, he won’t have the same problem with Annabel.”

  “No, she’ll not give him a run for his money, will she?” Maria looked at her.

  “Chris doesn’t like being given runs for his money—not unless his money rests on a Newmarket nag or a bruiser in a boxing booth. They’ll do very well together, will Chris and Annabel.”

  Maria pulled a face. “It sounds boring.”

  “If it suits them then that’s the way it should be, surely. We cannot all be swept from our feet by dashing young Americans with soulful eyes and winning ways. How is he?”

  “Andrew? The same. Oh, Mally, he must recover, he must!”

  Mally put her arm around her. “He will, I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, at least he will soon be able to come down from that tower room and lie in a more comfortable bed. We had to put him up there, you know, when that dreadful vicar, the Reverend Iorwerth Jones, came calling unexpectedly one day. Richard thought it best to put Andrew somewhere where no one could happen upon him unexpectedly. Still, once the Turneys and Brew Darril are taken by the army, it will all be over. Most of it, anyway. Oh, they must be found guilty, Mally!”

  “I’m sure they will be, sweeting.”

  “They should hang for what they did to Mrs. Harmon. And to Andrew.” Maria blinked as the tears filled her eyes, and she stared down at the town. “If they aren’t arrested—”

  “You’ll what?” asked Mally, smiling fondly.

  “I’ll burn down the Three Feathers!”

  “I believe you would, too. Anyway, you won’t have to resort to such measures, for Chris will convince the army commander at Abergavenny that he must come and that will be the end of it.”

  Maria shivered, for the autumn air was cold. “I should never have run away, you know. I could kick myself now. But, as usual, I just didn’t think beyond the immediate problem. I didn’t consider Mother, you, or of making Jasper suspicious. It would have worked but for my idiocy. Jasper would have been content that he was safe—and we could have tried to—to—” She broke off, biting her lip.

  “And in the meantime Jasper might have felt so secure that he robbed and murdered someone else. It’s better this way, Maria.”

  “Perhaps. Anyway, at least by this time tomorrow I shall have been able to make my peace with Mother. Or tried to, for I think she’ll disown me when she knows I’m carrying Andrew’s child.”

  “I won’t disown you. You’ll always have a home with me, you know that.”

  Maria smiled. “You’re the best sister in the world. And I’m surely the worst. A fine pair.”

  “And both of us the bane of Llanglyn Court, that’s a fact. There’s Richard coming back.” Mally watched the figure on the dun horse riding up the drive.

  “Where’s he been?”

  “To argue with the farrier about the quality of his work!”

  “That’ll please Harry Finsby.” Maria laughed.

  “It’s about time someone told that old crook a few home truths, and I rather think Richard was in the mood for a good argument today.”

  The hooves clattered beneath the barbican and into the courtyard, echoing around the castle. Maria turned to look at him as he dismounted.

  “He’s very handsome, don’t you think, Mally?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s very impressed with you, you know.” Maria glanced at her. “Most taken, I would say.”

  Mally flushed. “He has a silver tongue.”

  “He wasn’t trying to impress me, or charm me. I’m just his friend. I like to think I’m his good friend, and I know that I owe him
a great deal for all he’s tried to do for me. That’s why—”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s why I’m telling you.”

  “Are you matchmaking?” Mally was still looking at Richard. He was talking to the head groom and had taken off his top hat. It slapped against his thigh with each word, and then he bent to lift the horse’s off foreleg, pointing out something.

  “Matchmaking?” murmured Maria. “Yes, never more fervently in my life.” She smiled then. “It’ll be dark soon.”

  “Let’s go in then.”

  “I—I think I’ll go back to Andrew.” Maria watched Richard cross the courtyard and go in through the buttery door. “I would say, Mally, that there will be a splendid warm fire in the solar, don’t you think?”

  She hurried back along the wall walk and down the steps into the shadows of the courtyard. Richard’s horse was being led away. Some rooks wheeled overhead, calling to one another, and another small breath of wind moved the flag again.

  As Mally left the walk, she heard the sound of the drawbridge being raised and she paused in surprise. Why bother with that?

  Chapter 26

  Richard sat on the sofa by the fire, his long legs stretched out before him and a glass of cognac in his hand. He swirled it slowly, staring thoughtfully at the rich amber liquid. As Mally came in he made to stand, but she stopped him.

  “You look so deep in thought I hate to disturb you. Is there some of that Madeira left? Oh, yes—” She crossed to the small table, conscious that she was blushing and that she was talking unnecessarily.

  She took a seat opposite him. “Why have you had the drawbridge raised?”

  “A precaution.”

  “Against what?”

  “I’m not sure.” He smiled. “Is that double Dutch?”

  “A little.”

  “Well, Nathaniel told me something when I was in Llanglyn. His housekeeper came to him after luncheon, she was nervous and embarrassed. She said that if asked by anyone about the grave last night, she would deny that she had seen anything.”