Heirs and Graces (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

by Rhys Bowen

  “All I can feel right now is this bloody saddle digging into my arse,” Jack said. “How can you ride with anything so uncomfortable?”

  “What sort of saddle do you use?” I asked. “Or do you ride bareback?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “But when I was riding the boundary fences, we had big, Western saddles with a pommel in front. Sort of like sitting in an armchair and hard to fall off if you’re trying to rope a calf.”

  Our hoofbeats echoed in the still, morning air. A flock of rooks rose, cawing from the copper beech. The horses danced nervously, and I noticed how comfortable Jack was in the saddle. Here was someone who really knew horses. Finally his grandmother would have something to be impressed about. A large crowd of riders and spectators on foot had gathered at the pub, while the hounds milled around, wagging tails.

  “What are the dogs for?” Jack asked.

  “They’re hounds, and they track the fox for us. They pick up the scent, chase it and corner it for us.”

  “It sounds like a lot of bother for one little fox,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t it be easier to find its den, wait until it comes out and then shoot it?”

  Edwina had turned pale and was clutching the gold tie pin at her neck.

  A man in a white apron was going around, handing out stirrup cups.

  “We get something to drink, do we? Good-oh,” Jack said. He took a cup, took a good swig and made a face. “Port? Is it port?”

  “Probably. That’s what’s traditional.”

  “Struth,” he said. “You don’t even get a decent beer before exercise. What a country.”

  The master of fox hounds, resplendent in his red jacket, came up to greet us. “Your Grace, such an honor,” he said, tipping his velvet cap to the dowager duchess.

  “My guest Lady Georgiana, and my grandson, Viscount Farningham,” she said with a certain amount of pride in her voice.

  “Delighted to have you join us,” he said. “Welcome aboard. Should be a good day for it. Drink up, everyone. Time to be off.”

  The horn sounded, and we set off up the hill and out of the village. Soon we were crossing fields of stubble, passing sheep and cows. Jack trotted beside me with the easy grace of one used to a life in the saddle. I relaxed and started to enjoy myself. My mount moved smoothly and easily, reacting to my commands as if we’d been together all our lives. We had just crossed a little brook when there came the shout, “View halloo!” as a streak of bright copper fur broke from cover. The hounds were suddenly in full cry, and off we went. It was glorious—the countryside flashing past in a blur, the jingle of harness, thud of the hooves, a hedge coming up at us and the impression of flying as we soared over it. Jack was beside me, matching my horse stride for stride.

  “There it goes,” someone shouted. “Crafty little devil. It’s crossing the stream. The hounds will lose the scent if we’re not careful.”

  At that, Jack took off. One second he was beside me, the next his horse was in a flat-out gallop. It cut through the pack of hounds and splashed through the stream, sending up a sheet of water on either side, and vanished into the woodland beyond.

  “What the devil does he think he’s doing?” the master bellowed.

  I had no idea. It didn’t look as if his horse had bolted with him. We could only follow his trail across the stream and into the woods, where the hounds started baying again. We caught up with him in a clearing, his horse surrounded by excited hounds.

  As we approached he held up something for us to see, making the hounds go wild with excitement. It was the fox, quite dead.

  “Killed the little bugger for you with me bare hands,” he said. “Now we can all go home.”

  Chapter 13

  AFTER THE HUNT

  We rode back in silence. Jack could sense he was in disgrace but couldn’t quite see why.

  “We went to kill a fox. I killed the fox and saved you a lot of trouble,” he said. “I don’t see what the fuss was about.”

  “It’s supposed to be done the traditional way, Jack. And they nearly always let it go in the end.”

  “Let it go? Then what’s the purpose?”

  “A day’s fun,” I said. “It all started to keep knights in training for battle during peacetime. It’s an English tradition, and it’s really tradition that keeps us going.”

  “Bloody silly,” he said. He moved closer to my horse. “Maybe the old cow won’t want me here after this, and I can go home where I belong.”

  I looked at him with compassion, wondering how I’d fare my first week on a sheep station in Australia. “Jack, you have to stay and give it a chance,” I said. “Nobody expects you to learn all the ropes at once. And you’ll be a duke someday. That’s really important. Your father gave his life being awfully brave in the war. Don’t you think he’d want you to make the most of your chances?”

  Jack shook his head. “From what my mum told me, he thought this whole duke-and-title stuff was bloody silly too. He’d have been quite happy to stay down in Australia.”

  “At least give it a chance,” I said. “You really know nothing about England yet. It’s lovely in summer—cricket and cream teas on the lawn . . .”

  “Cricket?”

  “Yes, it’s a game that . . .”

  “I know all about cricket. It’s the Australian national sport. I’m a great fast bowler. You should see my googlies.”

  We dismounted, and grooms took the horses away. It will be all right in the end, I thought. Jack will play on the village cricket team and everyone will adore him. . . .

  When I went into the house and up to my room Queenie was now awake but unapologetic, and I had her run me a bath before luncheon. At luncheon the children were anxious to hear all about the hunt, but Edwina remained tight-lipped.

  “Was the fox killed?” Katherine asked. “Did Jack get blooded?”

  “I believe he did,” Edwina said.

  “I do wish you’d buy us decent ponies, Uncle Cedric, so that we could join in,” Nick said. “It’s really not fair.”

  “Ask your father to buy you ponies,” Cedric said. “You’re his responsibility, not mine.”

  “How can we ask him? We don’t even know where he is,” Kat said.

  “Precisely.” Cedric went back to his meal.

  “It’s not their fault that their father ran off,” Irene said.

  “The spirits might tell us,” Princess Charlotte said excitedly. “We haven’t had our séance yet, have we? Let’s do it tonight, after dinner. Then Jack can contact his father, and we can track down Irene’s wandering husband.”

  Cedric stood up. “Really, this family is too ridiculous for words. Not a word of intelligent conversation among you. Babbling and dotty old aunts, a domineering mother and a whining, complaining sister. I’ve had enough. It’s time you all moved out and left me in peace. I’m under no obligation to feed you, let alone listen to your twaddle.” And he stomped out of the dining room.

  “Oh, dear. We’ve upset him,” Charlotte said. “Do you think he really will throw us out, Edwina? Where would we go?”

  “I’m afraid my son is behaving like a spoiled child,” Edwina said, her voice cracking with emotion. “He needs reminding that this is the family seat of which he is caretaker for a while. It is not his house.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if we couldn’t live here,” Irene said. “I’d have to take a job, but what am I qualified for? Nothing. You brought me up to be a lady, Mama. I have no skills, no prospects and no hope.”

  “Don’t worry, Mummy,” Katherine said. “Nick and I will be brilliant and go to university and earn scads of money.”

  “Who’s going to pay for us to go to university, Kat?” Nick asked.

  “We’ll be so brilliant we’ll both get scholarships,” Katherine said.

  “Not from what Mr. Carter tells me,” Edwina says. “He co
mmented that you were both hopelessly behind for your age. Unlike your sister, who is a most diligent student.”

  “Such a pity for her. A life blighted before it’s begun,” Irene said. “I know that doctor in Switzerland could help her.”

  All in all, it was a gloomy luncheon. Jack and I went up to visit Sissy afterward, and she laughed and laughed when Jack recounted the story of the hunt to her. They were getting along so well, I thought. And she’s not really a child anymore. Maybe, who knows what the future will bring? I glanced across at Jack. It wouldn’t be sensible for him to marry someone who couldn’t ever have children.

  * * *

  THE SUBDUED MOOD still hung over us as we gathered for dinner that night. We worked our way, in near silence, through a leek and potato soup, filets of plaice and roast pheasant. We had just started on the savory—anchovy toast—at the end of the meal when Cedric tapped on his wineglass.

  “I have a couple of announcements to make,” he said. “In the morning, I will be meeting with the architect who is coming to design my theater. I’m hoping that work will begin almost immediately so that we can plan an autumn season for this year.”

  He paused. “And my second announcement is that I’ve decided to end this farce and take matters into my own hands. I have made my own choice of heir and I shall be meeting with my solicitor to find out the procedure for adopting him.”

  Edwina rose to her feet. “What did you say?” she demanded.

  “You have been badgering me for years to produce an heir, Mother, so I have finally granted your wish. I have decided to adopt the person I wish to be my heir. I will not let this dukedom go to an uncouth, uncivilized member of the hoi polloi.”

  “You’re really going to do it, Ceddy?” Adrian asked, his face alight with excitement. “We thought it was just a joke. We never dreamed you’d go through with it. What a coup.”

  “Who is this person you have decided to adopt?” Edwina asked.

  “Yes, who is it, Ceddy?” The Starlings were looking at each other with excited anticipation.

  “It’s Marcel,” Cedric said.

  “What?” Adrian shrieked.

  “And who might Marcel be?” Edwina demanded.

  “His valet,” Simon said, sounding near to tears. “A nasty, common, little Frenchman. How could you, Ceddy? We thought at least it would be one of us.”

  “You just like me for the sort of lifestyle I can give you,” Cedric said. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face now. “Marcel is truly devoted to me.”

  “A French valet?” Edwina demanded. “Are you mad?”

  “Better a French valet than an Australian farm worker. He comes from an aristocratic family that lost everything in the revolution. He has good blood.”

  “Good blood.” Edwina spat out the words. “At least John is your own flesh and blood—your brother’s child.”

  “So his mother claimed,” Cedric said. “Obviously John was the best choice among the many contenders for father of her brat.”

  “How dare you!” Jack leaped up. “I warned you before not to insult my mother. You take that back.”

  He started round the table toward Cedric.

  “Stop him,” Cedric said to the footmen standing behind us, who were staring at us in horror and fascination. They made a halfhearted grab at Jack, who attempted to fight them off.

  “Sit down, John,” Edwina said in her powerful voice. Jack hesitated then backed off, standing undecided at the back of the room. Edwina drew herself up to her full height, sticking out that impressive bosom. “This is madness, Cedric. It cannot be allowed to happen.”

  “I don’t think there’s much you can do, Mother. There are legal precedents aplenty.”

  “We will have you declared insane if we have to.”

  “Good luck. Try it. I’ll enjoy the fight,” Cedric said. “You and Father always claimed I was spineless and lacked imagination. Now I suspect that I’ll have the last laugh.”

  With that, he strode from the room.

  The Starlings had also risen to their feet and watched him go, half wanting to run after him, but not daring to.

  “That conniving little minx Marcel.” Julian sounded near to tears. “Pretending to be so humble and subservient, when all this time he’s been plotting against us.”

  “He can’t really do it, can he, Mama?” Irene asked. “I mean, one can’t really adopt someone who is over twenty-one, surely?”

  “I have no idea,” Edwina said. “And we don’t actually know that he is over twenty-one, do we? Your brother selected him. I know nothing about him.”

  “If he was going to adopt anyone, he should have adopted Nick.” Irene glared at the doorway through which Cedric had departed. “If anyone deserves to be the rightful heir, it is surely one of my children. We have the blood of the dukedom in our veins, don’t we? But a common valet, and a Frenchman at that—it’s too much to bear. Get on to our solicitor now, Mama. Summon him here immediately, before something awful happens.”

  “I will telephone our solicitor in the morning and ask him to come down and meet with us, Irene. The wheels of the law move slowly. Cedric can’t just adopt someone overnight. And it may just be an idle threat. It wouldn’t be the first time your brother did something stupid out of spite then regretted it. Give him time to see the absurdity of his threat.”

  “We must not give him time, Mama. We must stop it before it’s too late. You must go to the House of Lords, if necessary. Daddy’s old friends. They will surely help, and Cedric won’t be able to oppose the might of the English parliament against him.”

  “I said give him time, Irene. We do not need to expose this family to ridicule unnecessarily. It will be hard enough to live down the shame of an heir from Australia, but an heir who is a French valet—it would be unendurable.” Edwina’s voice wavered just the slightest. Then she shook her head violently, as if to gain control of her emotions. “I will speak with the boy. Make him see sense, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Séance!” Princess Charlotte stood up and clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s what we need to cheer us up. Our séance. The room is all set up for it.”

  “I hardly think that most people find séances cheerful, Charlotte,” Edwina said.

  “But Jack will have a lovely chat with his father, and maybe the spirits will be helpful in suggesting a way to get rid of this Marcel. They have the wisdom of the ages, remember.”

  “Then I’m in,” Adrian said, glancing at Julian. “How about you, Jules? Let’s see if the spirits can tell us how to bump off Marcel without being caught.”

  “Adrian, you’re terrible,” Julian said. “But it might be fun. There’s certainly no point in trying to talk to Ceddy tonight. Come on, Simon. Stop sulking. He’d never have adopted you anyway.”

  “I’ve just remembered what a gorgeous Polish officer and I once got up to during a séance in Vienna,” Virginia said dreamily. “So naughty. Such fun.”

  “Then come along, everyone. It’s all set up in Lady Hortense’s sitting room.” Princess Charlotte tried to herd everyone out of the dining room.

  “Who is Lady Hortense?” I asked as we filed out of the dining room.

  “The wife of an eighteenth-century duke,” Charlotte replied. “A very powerful medium, apparently. Had ectoplasm floating around all over the place, and violins playing themselves in midair. I have felt her presence most strongly in that room, and I’m sure she’ll help with this dreadful Marcel business.”

  “I am certainly not attending your ridiculous séance,” Edwina said. “Come, Irene.”

  “But, Mama, what if the spirits do have a suggestion for making Cedric see sense?” Irene hesitated, unsure whether to disobey her mother then followed her aunts in the other direction, with the Starlings in hot pursuit.

  Jack glanced at me. “Are you going along with this mumbo-jumbo?�
�� he asked.

  “I’ve never been to a séance before,” I said. “I played around with a Ouija board at school and it was rather frightening, so I have to confess to being a teeny bit curious. What about you?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t go for stuff I can’t explain.”

  “Don’t you want the chance to connect with your father, perhaps?”

  “You really believe that could happen?”

  “But if it could—wouldn’t you want to hear his voice once?”

  He stared hard at me. Then he said, “All right. What have I got to lose? And if I can’t go to the pub, there’s nothing else to do here.”

  We fell into step, side by side, and hurried after the disappearing forms of the older women. Lady Hortense’s sitting room was a small, square and rather cluttered space, made smaller by the circle of chairs around a table, and by the heavy, brocade drapes, closed at both windows. On the table was a solitary candle in a tall candlestick, a pencil and pad and a Ouija board.

  “Everyone, take a seat around the table,” Charlotte said. I pulled up a chair between Irene and Jack.

  Charlotte lit the candle and had one of the Starlings turn off the electric light. How different faces looked in the flickering flame. Those heavy drapes now seemed to hang ominously close. I began to wish I hadn’t come.

  “All hold hands on the table,” Charlotte commanded.

  Irene’s hand was icy cold. Jack’s was reassuring.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” I heard one of the Starlings whisper. “Feel my hand. It’s all aquiver.”

  “Spirits from the other side, we call upon you,” Charlotte began in such a dramatic voice that I had to suppress the need to giggle. I wished Belinda had been present so that we could have kicked each other beneath the tablecloth, or that Darcy had been sitting across the table to give me a reassuring wink. “Come to our aid, dear spirits. Lady Hortense, are you present among us?”

  A long silence was followed punctuated only by the sound of a grandfather clock, ticking away solemnly somewhere outside in a hallway.

  “Are you with us, Lady Hortense? Will you be our guide?”