by Clare Jayne
“I was told you had something urgent to tell me,” she said after the necessary bow and curtsies had been exchanged. She took a seat on the chaise longue and accepted a cup of tea in a regal manner, “or, of course, you would not have chosen to appear at such an indecent hour.”
If she thought this was indecent, Ishbel wondered how Her Ladyship would have felt had she known that she had been up for more than five hours now. She had obviously not been aware of the duel and Ishbel could still not recall those first hours of the day, when she had thought Ewan might die, without going cold.
“You will recall,” she said, struggling to find a way to tell this mother that her son was in prison, “that several weeks ago my cousin, Harriette, asked us to find out what had become of your emerald necklace...”
“Oh, it turned up last week,” Lady Tinbough said, the corners of her lips turning upwards in a half smile. “Did Harriette not tell you? It had been misplaced – I cannot think how it came to be in the pocket of my blue cloak.”
Ishbel and Mr MacPherson exchanged a disbelieving look as Her Ladyship talked. It might have been funny – in an exceedingly annoying way – had it not led to the discovery of so much tragedy.
“We got diverted from the missing necklace when we learnt of the disappearance and subsequent death of Aileas Jones,” Mr MacPherson said.
“That poor child,” Lady Tinbough said and took a sip from her cup. “I was sorry to hear of her death. Did you discover how it happened?”
“Yes, My Lady,” Mr MacPherson said, “and I fear you must prepare yourself to hear something difficult.”
Lady Tinbough looked from one to the other of them and went still. “Go on.”
Ishbel took up the story, thinking the news might be slightly easier to take from another woman. “Your son, the Viscount Inderly, took an interest in Aileas. She did not return his feelings so he forced her to lie with him.”
The woman was pale now and put her cup down on its saucer on the table beside her with a slight clatter. “Continue.”
“She became pregnant so your son persuaded her to go to an unqualified doctor to try to destroy the baby and hide what he had done. Aileas died and the Viscount and the doctor attempted to hide her body.”
“Where is my son now?” Lady Tinbough’s voice was barely audible.
“He is in the Tolbooth prison. He challenged Mr MacPherson to a duel this morning but, instead of going ahead with it and lying further, he made a full confession of what he had done. His crimes are sufficiently severe that I believe there will be a trial.”
“He will be tried in a public court like a criminal?” Her Ladyship asked sharply, grabbing her fan and opening then closing it.
Ishbel did not point out that this was what he was. “Yes, My Lady.”
Lady Tinbough rang the bell beside her. “My husband must be informed. He will know how to speak to lawyers and such people.”
Ishbel bit her lip – she and Mr MacPherson had argued over whether to reveal this – then added, “There is one more thing and, if you can bear to hear no more, it can keep and Harriette can tell you when you are ready.”
“Tell me,” Lady Tinbough insisted.
Ishbel struggled to find tactful words. “It looks as if your son learnt to treat the staff in this way from his father.”
Lady Tinbough looked unseeingly down at the fan in her hand. There would be an imprint of it on her flesh from the grip she had on it.
Ishbel leaned towards her. “We are so sorry to have to bring you such information.” When there was no response she added, “Do you wish me to send Harriette to you?”
Her Ladyship gave the faintest nod of her head. “If you would.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
MRS JONES had wept to hear what had been done to her daughter, Aileas, but had thanked Ishbel and Mr MacPherson for finding out the truth and arresting the man responsible. She had fresh bruises and, by the time they left, a bleakness in her eyes but at least she still had three more children to take her mind off her loss and to love her.
“Do you think Lady Tinbough will ever recover from this?” Ishbel asked Mr MacPherson when they were back in the library at her home, Harriette awakened and despatched to help her friend in whatever way she could. Ishbel sat and took in all the shelves of books, hearing the faint sound of birdsong outside, and she had never been more grateful for the refuge she had always found in this beloved room. She had begun to regain her strength in here after the death of her parents, when everything in her life had altered.
Mr MacPherson rubbed his face as he sat opposite her with legs stretched out. He looked worn out, like her the fatigue more than just the early beginning to the day, but he was here, safe, beside her, the danger over, which was all she needed right now. “I fear society will consider this business a wonderful scandal and will make Lady Tinbough’s life a hundred times more difficult, but at least your cousin seems determined to support her through it.”
“Harriette is a solace in difficult times,” Ishbel said, remembering how this relation she had barely known had helped her deal with her own grief and find ways to carry on living. When Harriette was complaining and criticizing, it was sometimes hard to remember that she had a caring heart. “I thought I would feel some satisfaction at ensuring Aileas’s death did not go unpunished, but the truth is bringing about so much misery.”
“I think, in time, life will be easier to bear for Aileas’s family because of what we did. We did not cause all this grief – the Viscount did that. I would like to believe that we did what needed to be done... even if the dratted necklace was never actually stolen.”
He surprised a laugh out of her at this. “I suppose our days of investigating crimes, real or imagined, are over now.”
“Yes.”
“It is probably for the best.” The thought left her feeling rather hollow and, with difficulty at expressing herself, she said, “I hope, now that we will no longer be working together, that you will not vanish from my life.”
“Never,” he said, sounding shocked at the idea, which reassured her that she could still count on him to be her friend. “Miss Campbell, you must be aware of the great affection I have formed towards you.” In a fluid move, he got on one knee before her. “Nothing could make me happier than if you would agree to be my wife and share the rest of my days.”
It was the moment she had tried to prevent; the moment she had dreaded. Looking down at the hope written across his face, Ishbel could not bear to hurt him. Would marriage to Ewan be so bad? She cared deeply for him and did not believe he would ever become a tyrant, denying her the studying that made her happy. But their relationship would change. Marriage would cage them both and any fond feelings they had for each other now would not survive its shackles. How could she explain any of this to him? “Ewan, I once said that I never intended to marry and I meant it. If I could do it, I would marry you, as I know that no one will ever be dearer to me, but it is not something I can contemplate. Marriage would destroy me.”
She watched as the hope faded from his eyes and felt sick. He got to his feet and looked about him in a lost manner. “I see. I should take my leave of you.”
As he walked away she wanted to call him back but no longer had any power to do so. He wanted something she could not give him. Her fears had proven founded after all: she had lost him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
EWAN WALKED into the hall of his house and looked about him. He had never before noticed how large and empty it was, all this space just for him and filled with expensive, meaningless possessions.
MacCuaig took his hat and gloves, weathered face hinting at an emotion. “May I express my relief on behalf of all the staff at your continued good health, sir.”
Ewan looked uncomprehendingly at him then recalled the duel and nearly laughed. It seemed so long ago but it was just a few hours. He could have died. It had seemed such a pivotal moment in his life at the time yet now he had barely remembered it. It was goo
d to know he would not have been entirely un-mourned and he felt a surge of warmth for the people who devoted their time to looking after him. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“There is a young man waiting to see you in the drawing room, sir. I did inform him that you were not at home and might not be free to speak to him when you returned but, nevertheless, he insisted on waiting.” MacCuaig’s tone left no doubt about his opinion of the unwanted guest. “He is, I am led to understand, an acquaintance of Mr Chiverton and some form of entertainer.”
Curiosity piqued and feeling that anything would be better than being left alone to dwell on Miss Campbell’s rejection, Ewan said, “Then I will go and find out what he wants.”
He strode along the hall and into the room where a man jumped to his feet and gave him a deep bow. He was a striking fellow with brown wavy hair and prominent cheekbones and wore a decently made outfit: navy coat and breeches, blue and cream waistcoat and black boots over his stockings. He regarded Ewan with a nervous expression
“Please excuse the intrusion, Mr MacPherson. My name is Joseph Fillinister. I’m an actor and I work with Alex.”
Ewan nodded, recognising the name of Chiverton’s clandestine lover. He gestured for the man to sit down again and took a chair the other side of the coffee table. “What can I do for you, Mr Fillinister?”
“Alex said you’d become involved in looking into crimes. I need you to solve a murder.”
Well, at least it was not theft – their success at solving those was not good. However, he and Miss Campbell had given up such work; every part of their relationship was over. Still, the man had come here especially to speak to him so Ewan should hear him out and, also, he really needed a distraction right now. “Who is it that has been killed? A relation?”
“No, sir. I barely knew him: Duke Raden was his name.”
“Then what interest have you in seeing his death solved?”
“A friend of mine, an actress by the name of Kenina McNeil, has been accused of the murder. She’s gone on the run and, if she’s caught, they’ll hang her. She’s not guilty, Mr MacPherson. I swear it to you.”
The matter sounded interesting and it struck him, hope for the future rising in him once more, that if he could get Miss Campbell curious about it, the case could be exactly what he needed. It would give him an opportunity to find out her worries about marriage and allay them. She had already said that, were she to marry, she would choose him. He loved her as he could love no one else and he believed she was starting to love him. She had not turned him down out of any dislike for him; there was something deeper troubling her. If they worked together on this case it would give him another chance to convince her that he could make her happy.
“I will need to speak to my friend, Miss Campbell, about this, since we work together, but I believe we might be able to look into the case for you...”
Historical Notes
William Brodie, who is on trial at the start of this novel, was not only a real man but also someone on whom Robert Louis Stevenson based his novel of Jekyll and Hyde. Brodie worked as a respected Deacon of wrights and cabinetmaker and came from a conventional, fairly wealthy background but he also gambled excessively and kept two mistresses and their children. He was like two different people. Some of the legal dialogue in the first chapter was taken from the transcripts from Brodie’s trial.
Other real-life people also appear in this story: the lawyers and judges from Brodie’s trial and the professors Ishbel studies under at Edinburgh University.
The main characters are all fictional but the problems they face, in trying to get justice at a time with no police force, are genuine.
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Also Available - “Complications”
This is a light-hearted Georgian era romance where, in the hunt for the right gentleman, nothing works out as intended.
Amelia Daventry dreams of having the lovely clothes and luxuries her family cannot afford. She intends to use her Edinburgh season to get herself the wealthiest and most powerful husband she can find. The one thing of which she is certain is that Mr Brightford, with his constant frowns and criticisms, is a man she would never consider.
Amelia’s best friend, Lottie Harrington, has found the man she wants to marry and just wishes to live quietly and make him happy. Her hopes are about to be destroyed, causing pain and chaos to herself and everyone around her.
Lottie’s headstrong brother, Benjamin Harrington, has romantic feelings for other men but his parents still expect him to marry. When he meets a man he can love he faces difficult choices but does the gentleman even return his affection?
From suffering heartbreak and tragedy to fighting a duel, the lives of these three friends are about to become extremely complicated…
