Charlotte tsked. “For gossips of their distinction, they should know that Lord Ingram has far too many scruples to keep me. That man can be frustratingly hidebound.”
Livia’s brows shot up. Surely Charlotte didn’t mean she found out for herself that Lord Ingram wouldn’t take her for a mistress? No decision on Charlotte’s part, however outlandish, should surprise Livia anymore. But she was surprised at this possibility—perhaps even a little shocked.
“Anyway,” murmured Charlotte, “he and I are only friends. Let people think what they will. It can’t hurt me. Nor will it reduce his standing in the long term.”
Clearly Charlotte, like Lord Ingram, was minimally concerned with the information ladies Avery and Somersby were currently disseminating. If Charlotte, with her extraordinary perspicacity, didn’t see anything to worry about, then Livia had absolutely no reason to go on agonizing.
Or at least every reason to ignore the misgivings that refused to go away on their own.
A question occurred to her—she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. “Do you know why Lady Ingram left so abruptly?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No.”
Livia sighed and took a bite of a finger sandwich. “I guess I’d better tell you about Bernadine, then. She’s no longer at home.”
Half an hour later, Mrs. Watson returned from her walk.
Had she not been so sincerely amiable, Livia would have been roundly intimidated by her beauty and confidence. As it was, her delight in meeting Livia melted away not only Livia’s feeling of being overawed but also her remaining wariness toward a woman of the demimonde, even one who had been so instrumental to Charlotte’s success and independence.
Charlotte had mentioned that occasionally Mrs. Watson dressed with unnecessary splendor to warn “proper” ladies that she wasn’t one of them. Such must not have been her objective today. While her dress did not lack flair, it still possessed an elegance that made Livia sigh with aesthetic longing.
And she was so warm, so maternal without being in the least limiting, that Livia found herself confiding about her recent difficulties with the second half of the Sherlock Holmes story. Charlotte had told her that she could do it, but Mrs. Watson made her believe that she indeed would. Being encouraged by her felt like those rare occasions when Livia threw aside her parasol and simply lifted her face to the sun.
As reluctant as she was to leave the cottage, she returned to Stern Hollow with a smile on her face and floated up the grand staircase. Now she would sit in her beautiful room and luxuriate in memories of the outing: Charlotte’s sweet face, Mrs. Watson’s beautiful soul, and the renewal of hope in her own heart.
Perhaps she would even take out the moonstone, cup it in her hands, and—
Lady Avery was in her room, hastily closing a nightstand drawer.
Livia stared at her, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Ma’am, wh—what are you doing?”
Lady Avery’s eyes darted to the space behind Livia, as if wondering whether she’d been discovered by more than just insignificant Olivia Holmes. But there was no one else in the passage.
Livia stepped inside and closed the door. “Lady Avery, why are you in my room?”
Her voice was unsteady—she was not accustomed to demanding answers.
Lady Avery studied Livia, her gaze more calculating than worried. “Well, I don’t mind telling you, Miss Holmes. My sister and I received intelligence that there is to be a very grand act of indiscretion here at Stern Hollow, among the guests Mrs. Newell brought from her house.”
Livia’s eyes bulged. “And you think I am to be the perpetrator of that indiscretion?”
“No, no, quite the opposite. You have never shown the slightest proclivity for breaking rules. But we must be thorough, you see, and not overlook anyone simply because they seem unlikely. Yours is, in fact, the last room I checked and as expected, I found nothing of interest.”
Livia’s heart thumped with both fury and furious relief: She had brought two of Charlotte’s letters on this trip—and had carried them on her person instead of leaving them behind for nosy housemaids to discover.
And that precaution had saved her from the gossip ladies.
“Do please leave.”
“Of course.”
Lady Avery paused upon reaching the door, then turned around. “I have a proposition for you, Miss Holmes. How would you like to hunt for this grand indiscretion alongside my sister and myself?”
Livia blinked. “I— What? You want me to search other guests’ rooms for you?”
“No, no, that’s all done. You are an intelligent and observant young woman. You will be an asset in uncovering this major indiscretion.”
Livia often berated herself for being stupid, but she immediately grasped the nature of Lady Avery’s offer. “You’re afraid that unless I join you, I’m going to tell Lord Ingram that you are transgressing on his hospitality and browsing the belongings not only of his guests but possibly of himself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, young lady—Lord Ingram’s rooms are secured with devices quite beyond our ability to tamper with. But yes, you are right about the rest of it.”
Lady Avery sighed softly. “We are feared by those with something to hide and welcomed by the rest—but that welcome is conditional. As long as we have plenty of gossip, doors will open for us. The moment we can no longer provide the latest on-dits, we’ll be just another pair of annoying busybodies.”
“So you resort to underhanded tactics.”
Lady Avery held up a finger. “Hardly ever. We rely on listening more than anything else—and when necessary, close questioning and record-checking. But this has been a frustrating summer. First your sister goes missing and we can’t find out what has happened to her. Then Lady Ingram bolts to Switzerland and we are in the dark as to her reasons. If this goes on much longer, people will begin to wonder whether we’ve lost our knack.”
Livia had trouble keeping her lips thinned in disapproval, when her reaction was more astonishment than anything else. It had never occurred to her that ladies Avery and Somersby might worry about their places in Society: They’d been such permanent fixtures that she’d assumed they’d always remain permanent fixtures.
“So we must uncover this major indiscretion. Of course, we didn’t want to search the guests’ belongings.”
Except they had.
Elsewhere Livia might hesitate to expose them, but here she would not worry about not being believed. And should Lord Ingram choose to inform Mrs. Newell—after all, the gossip ladies were her guests—his accusation would land precisely where ladies Avery and Somersby were most vulnerable.
They were already figurative snoops of such renown, it would take very little to convince Society that they also happened to be literal snoops. While they were more than welcome at many stately manors when it was thought all they brought was titillating entertainment, a hostess would think thrice about inviting them into her home, should it become known that they would, in fact, riffle through every room, looking for incriminating evidence.
Amazement descended upon Livia. She, who was so powerless in almost every respect of her life, was, for once, the one with the advantage. Over someone like Lady Avery, no less, someone who had always seemed as powerful and indestructible as a swarm of locusts.
But she was able to savor that feeling of might for only a fraction of a second. If only she’d interrupted Lady Avery before she’d blabbed to everyone about Charlotte and Lord Ingram’s encounter in the tea shop! Had such been the case, she’d have been able to save Lord Ingram some unpleasantness.
Beyond that, she had no idea how she could possibly make use of the situation.
What she did know was that she shouldn’t let her advantage slip away, simply because she hadn’t worked out how to exploit it.
“Lady Avery, I’m afraid I cannot possibly help you and your sister. We are in very different positions in life. You were respectably married and in widowhood
you enjoy a generous dower. I, on the other hand, have no money and few prospects. And the sister whom I had counted on to be my companion in old age is nowhere to be found. I am in no position to pursue anyone else’s indiscretions, when what I wish for the most is that no one had hunted down my sister’s and ruined all our lives.”
She opened the door, dramatically yet firmly.
After a moment, Lady Avery walked out.
5
The breeze was pleasant on Livia’s cheeks—she’d been going uphill for the past ten minutes. Had she been standing still, it would have felt a little frosty.
The unseasonable balminess of the past two days couldn’t last. Somewhere nearby a mass of cold air was on the move, its vanguard encircling Stern Hollow.
The imagery made her shiver a little, as if winter had already arrived.
She tried to dwell on the remaining warmth of the afternoon, the quiet serenity of the woods, and the sun that was still some distance above the horizon, generously shedding its light. But without quite realizing it, her mind turned to a different autumnal day, a different pretty estate.
Moreton Close. Bernadine, her sister who, if she hadn’t been rail thin, would have resembled Charlotte a great deal. Her life at home had not been ideal, but it had been safe enough and stable enough. Who could vouch for the new place where their parents intended to stow her for the remainder of her natural life?
Charlotte had been quiet after Livia had spoken of Moreton Close, of its disarming coziness and its seemingly content residents. And then she had said, “I’ll take a look myself.”
“But you won’t be able to,” Livia reminded her. “They don’t let anyone in who’s never been invited there before.”
“Wait until you meet Mrs. Watson. No one will refuse to open a door when she stands on the threshold.”
And Mrs. Watson had indeed possessed that magical quality, and Livia had felt a burden lift from her shoulders. Between Charlotte and Mrs. Watson, they would see to it.
But now anxiety returned.
Ferreting out the truth about Moreton Close would take time, even if they could finagle an invitation. After all, Livia had been inside—and hadn’t found any cracks in the façade. What would happen to Bernadine in the meanwhile?
What if Dr. Wrexhall, who seemed so competent and reasonable, turned into a monster like the evil Mr. Hyde when all the visitors had left? Who would protect Bernadine then? Who would make sure that she wouldn’t be—
“Miss Holmes, are you lost?”
Lady Avery and Lady Somersby, the vultures themselves.
After the confrontation with Lady Avery, knowing that the gossip ladies were in fact after a different and much bigger target, Livia’s sense of foreboding had eased somewhat. Let them chase their mirage. May it take up all their waking hours and leave them no time or energy to remember Charlotte and Lord Ingram.
“No, thank you,” she said coolly. “I am not lost.”
But she had wandered off the path into a grove of aspens. As sunlight slanted through, the slender tree trunks were almost white. And the undergrowth had turned the same golden hue as the shimmering canopy of leaves high overhead.
“Will you head back with us? The temperature is dropping fast now,” said Lady Avery.
Livia almost declined by reflex. Then she remembered that she had caught Lady Avery riffling through her room. Their offer wasn’t an order but something closer to an apology.
She supposed she could be magnanimous while she held the upper hand. “Certainly.”
They walked for some time in silence, then Lady Avery said, “We spoke to the servants.”
“And did they shed any light on this ‘great indiscretion’ you are seeking?” Livia wasn’t magnanimous enough to keep her tone free of snideness.
Lady Avery exchanged a glance with her sister. “We have discussed this and we have decided to tell you the truth. The part about the great indiscretion I made up on the spot. What we are investigating is not an indiscretion but an injustice.”
“Injustice?” Livia couldn’t help her incredulity. “What do you care about injustice?”
“From the very beginning we have cared passionately about injustice,” said Lady Avery in all seriousness. “We move in Society and must speak its language and accumulate its currency—so we are fluent in enmities, liaisons, and financial entanglements going back several generations. Indiscretions and whatnot are amusing, we will not deny that. But along with an interest in sin, we have always been determined to unearth injustice where it exists and do what we can to remedy the situation.”
Livia almost tripped over a stone that poked up from the ground. What was the woman going on about?
“You are probably not familiar with employment agencies for domestic service,” Lady Avery went on. “But we always pass along what we know—if the master of a house takes advantage of the maids, or if the mistress works them too much and docks wages unfairly.
“We warn mothers of young ladies, or young ladies themselves, if we think they can handle such intelligence, when we know certain alarming things about young men they might consider marrying. Sometimes they marry them anyway, because they refuse to believe us or because their parents exert undue pressure. But we do what we can.
“Anyway, our point is, we try to prevent or expose injustice. Often we can’t speak aloud—the culprits hold too unassailable a position or the consequences are too adverse, should it be found out who had passed on the information. But we do speak quietly, and we do inform as many people as possible, especially those who must brush up against their spheres of influence.”
Livia stared at Lady Avery. She had never thought of the women as being in any way helpful. To anyone. She wasn’t sure she believed Lady Avery, who admitted that she’d made up the bit about the “great indiscretion.” Might this not be another gambit to make sure Livia didn’t say anything about their having gone into every guest room at Stern Hollow?
The next moment a huge premonition slammed into her. “And what, exactly, is this injustice you are so interested in just now?”
“I mentioned that we spoke to the servants,” said Lady Somersby. “They are a loyal lot, down to the scullery maids, and didn’t consider it our business to ask after their master and mistress. But we both received the impression that while they are reluctant to say anything, they are as puzzled about Lady Ingram’s departure as we are.
“Neither of the coachmen drove her to a railway station. No one in the house, in fact, saw her on the night of her birthday ball, after about half past midnight or quarter to one. The children and their governess aren’t here right now, but we learned that even the children didn’t get to say good-bye to her. The entire household, with a few exceptions, was ordered back to Stern Hollow the very next day, while Lord Ingram himself took the children to the seaside—neither of which had been in the plans earlier.”
“Plans always change,” countered Livia, even as her stomach once again twisted with dread. “And wasn’t it said that it was a sudden collapse? They had a houseful of guests. Given Lady Ingram’s private nature, wouldn’t it be like her to leave, since she must, with as little noise and drama as possible?”
The ladies did not escalate the debate. Livia was beginning to wonder whether her argument carried more weight than she thought it did, when Lady Avery said, “This is our first visit to Stern Hollow. I take it, Miss Holmes, that the same is true for you?”
“That is correct,” Livia answered warily.
“What do you think of the estate?”
Their path turned and the house came back into view, quite close now, serene and lovely, nestled in its sweet green dell. “I find it enchanting.”
“We find it a little chilling.”
Livia’s fingertips tingled with alarm. They were about to speak of Lady Ingram again.
“There is no imprint of Lady Ingram upon this place,” Lady Avery continued. “Not at all. We spoke to all the senior servants, the majordomo, the butler, t
he housekeeper, the chef, the head gardener, et cetera, et cetera. It would seem that any and all alteration or improvement originated with Lord Ingram. Your room, for example, had been redecorated to his specification within the past year or so. The nursery. The library. The addition of certain fruit trees to the walled garden. It has all been Lord Ingram. It was as if—”
“As if Lady Ingram has no interest in houses or gardens,” said Livia heatedly. “Such women do exist.”
Charlotte was one. She appreciated a beautiful house, but she wouldn’t lift a finger to help make one. And any interest she had in horticulture was tied directly to whether the species in question could be made into a good pudding.
“I don’t doubt the existence of such women. But that is a terribly innocent interpretation on your part, Miss Holmes. Lord Ingram could very well have forbidden any input from his wife with regard to her own home.”
“That is a preposterous statement to put forward, Lady Avery. Lady Ingram has one of the largest allowances in Society. And her husband has thrown a lavish ball to celebrate her birthday every year, even after he learned that she married him only for his money. He has been more than generous to her at every turn and does not have it in his character to practice such meanness.”
“Being generous to his wife and undertaking extravagant gestures are choices that reflect well on him. They reflect especially well on him when it is believed that she does not deserve either. But think back to their rupture. I have investigated it, and everything rests on the word of one then new under-housemaid, who told the other servants, who in turn passed on the gossip to servants they knew in other households. The story filtered upward to the ears of their masters and mistresses, and eventually a picture emerged that was wholly uncomplimentary to Lady Ingram.”
Livia threw up her hands. “Because the truth was wholly uncomplimentary to Lady Ingram.”
“We will allow for that possibility. But then you must also allow for the possibility that the truth might not be as complimentary to Lord Ingram: He could have orchestrated what the public was allowed to learn, in order to tilt the narrative heavily in his favor, and then practiced intimidation at home to isolate his wife and cow her into silence.”
The Hollow of Fear: Book three in the Lady Sherlock Mystery Series Page 7
