The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2)

by Dawn Harris

  You wished to speak to me about the society George belonged to, and throughout that long journey I tried to recall what he had said, but I remember very little, except that he was full of enthusiasm at first. Then one night he came home and said he couldn’t understand why one man, a Mr Ruby, had been allowed to join the society. I remember it particularly because of the odd name. George said this man had a deep scar all the way down one side of his face and spoke the kind of slang used by criminals.

  The last meeting he attended he returned white-faced, but explained that, after leaving the meeting, he realised he’d forgotten his gloves and had gone back for them. Then, on his way out again he’d slipped and fallen down the stairs. And it had left him feeling rather shaky. I accepted that at the time, having no reason to disbelieve him, but now I am certain he made that up to stop me worrying.

  I was determined to write, once we were safely ensconced in this place, for I want the men who killed George to be caught. I only wish I could be more helpful.

  She ended in the usual manner, her grief still clear in her handwriting. Shocked and horrified by what I had read, and the sheer terror she had endured, my heart went out to her. Told of that vile murder and suffering those unimaginable threats, she had taken her children and fled for their safety. And who could blame her? It was what anyone would have done.

  Hearing a rustling noise, I looked up to see three sparrows had landed on a nearby bush. The kitchen cat, who had been dozing in the shade, was now wide awake, crouching low on the ground, ears flattened, watching the chattering birds and waiting her chance to pounce. In much the same way, I thought, as Mr Brown was holding back until the right moment.

  One of the sparrows foolishly moved down to a lower branch, the cat leapt at the bird, caught it firmly, and promptly shot through the garden and was soon out of sight. That was a death I could not prevent, and it made me think of the thousands of people who would die if Mr Brown was not stopped. A thought that sent an icy shiver right through me.

  But, Mrs. Jenkins had been far more helpful than she’d realised. Her assurance that she had not told anyone of our arrangement to meet that afternoon set my mind racing. I considered who else had known of it. Obviously Mr. Reevers, Mr. East and Mudd, and lastly, Julia. But she had not spoken to anyone, not even Richard, about anything connected with her brother’s death. Yet, Mrs. Jenkins had made the arrangement one day, and Mr. Silver had known of it by the following morning. Fearful of what Mrs Jenkins might say, he’d sent her scurrying off to the mainland within the hour. And the day I accidentally left the note from Mrs Jenkins on my desk, Richard had gone into my workroom, looking for ink. I got up, and walking over to the walled garden, leant against the sun-warmed brickwork and closed my eyes, but the fear of what his having seen the note could mean, refused to go away.

  The other puzzle on my mind was the question Mr. Reevers had posed. How had Mr. Silver and Mr. Hamerton arranged that meeting in the church? His every movement away from Westfleet was watched, which suggested he had been contacted here. Yet, how could a message reach him here when all letters arriving or departing were brought to me first?

  The only time he was outside alone in the evening was when he was studying moths. He never stayed out more than an hour, and I was ready to swear he didn’t leave the grounds. I had watched him so often I knew exactly what he did. He started his perambulations by putting lanterns on the seat built round one of the big oak trees lining the drive near the entrance. Picturing that in my mind, it came to me in a flash that he always used the same tree. Which happened to be the one nearest the road.

  As Mr. Hamerton was still out sailing with Richard, I wandered over to this particular oak. Walking round it, I trailed my hand on the bark, as I had as a child, remembering this was the tree with a small hollow where I used to hide my treasures. In those days I had reached it by standing on the seat, unseen from the house, as the hollow faced away from the building. The tree had grown considerably since that time, of course, but I soon found the hollow, obscured by a branch and filled with old leaves.

  Curious, I stood on the seat to take a good look inside and saw it was much deeper than was apparent from a cursory glance. Eagerly I scooped out the leaves, but there was nothing underneath. Yet it made the perfect hiding place, being fairly close to the road. On a dark night Mr Silver could have easily slipped a message into the hollow without being seen.

  Going indoors to dress for dinner, I met my aunt coming out of the drawing room. ‘There you are Drusilla. I wish to speak to you, if you please.’ Her tone did not bode well, and I wondered what had happened to annoy her now. Joining her and my uncle in the drawing room I asked what was wrong.

  ‘I think you should know what happened yesterday.’

  ‘Oh come now, my dear,’ my uncle broke in. ‘I thought we’d agreed it was unnecessary to bother Drusilla with anything so trivial.’

  ‘It is not trivial to me Charles,’ she announced huffily. ‘I wanted Mudd to drive me to Yarmouth and he refused. He said-----’

  ‘Thirza, he did no such thing. He explained it all to me most respectfully. Drusilla’s orders prevented him from doing as you wished, but he arranged for one of the other grooms to take his place. And you said yourself that you were quite happy with----’

  ‘That is not the point.’ She turned to me. ‘I want to know what is going on, Drusilla. Why couldn’t Mudd drive me?’

  ‘Because I need him here at Westfleet in case I decide to go out.’

  ‘I am glad you have regained your sense of propriety but, surely, any groom would do.’

  ‘No. It has to be Mudd.’

  She sniffed. ‘Why? One groom is as good as another.’ I shook my head at her, for she would never understand. ‘It never does to hobnob with servants, Drusilla.’

  ‘I do not hobnob, as you put it, Aunt. Mudd has been at Westfleet for as long as I can remember. He’s intelligent, utterly dependable, and he knows how I like things to be done.’

  ‘Well, you cannot say the same thing about Luffe,’ she said, and went on at length, giving me her opinion of him. ‘He’s not up to the job, Drusilla. Jeffel had his faults, but Luffe is worse. His shoes squeak, he often fails to do what I ask at once, and he broke a wine glass yesterday,’ she ended, ticking off the complaints on her fingers.

  On and on she went, until I lost patience and snapped, ‘Well, I am quite happy with him.’ I hoped that would put an end to it, but she barely drew breath, with the result that I didn’t have time to read Marguerite’s letter before dinner.

  During the meal Mr. Hamerton amused us with his tale of how he’d made a paper boat for Edward, and my godson had promptly sunk it by putting a large stone in it. After dinner, he went for a walk in the garden, while I joined my aunt and uncle in the drawing room for an hour, before going into the library to read Marguerite’s letter.

  I sat in a comfortable chair by one of the big windows, smiling in anticipation as I broke the seal. This letter had come from London, where she, Giles and Lucie were to spend a few weeks after their trip to Yorkshire.

  My dearest Drusilla,

  It is such a joy to be in London after Yorkshire. The countryside in the north is very pretty, but to my mind one hill looks very like another, and try as I might I could not see what was so exciting about watching water fall from a great height. In London I am enjoying myself immensely, visiting old friends and going to balls, parties and the theatre. But, last night, at the opera, I learned something that I fear will cause you pain.

  I had hoped, for your sake, that it was just gossip, but Giles says the story I have to tell you is true, and that Mr Reevers told him of it himself. He does not believe Mr Reevers behaved in an ungentlemanly manner, and says there is no need to repeat it to you, but I cannot agree. I believe you should have the opportunity to judge for yourself. I hate to be the bearer of such tidings, for it is clear to me that you are greatly attracted to Mr Reevers. Still it is better that you should be aware of the truth. I’m afrai
d he is nothing but a fortune hunter, Drusilla.

  You probably won’t have heard of Sophie Wood, as the family live in a quiet way in Derbyshire. She is the only child of doting, wealthy parents, who wanted her to find true happiness in marriage, as they had done themselves. A pretty, sunny-natured, intelligent girl, she had difficulty in finding the right man as far too many were only after her fortune.

  Then two years ago, when she was twenty-one, she met Mr Reevers, who made himself so agreeable to her that she fell headlong in love with him. After a suitable time Mr Reevers made her an offer, but Sophie’s father already had his measure, and sent him packing.

  It is clear that Mr Reevers exerts himself wondrously to captivate a woman when there is a fortune at stake, so please take care what you are about, Drusilla.

  I beg of you not to mention this to Giles, as he is of the opinion you are very well able to make your own decisions. And, of course, Mr Reevers is a good friend of his. I wish with all my heart that I could have spared you such.....

  The click of the door handle made me look up and I saw Mr. Hamerton entering the room. Folding the letter as swiftly as my trembling fingers would allow, I slipped it into the deep pocket of my gown.

  ‘Am I disturbing you, Lady Drusilla?’ he inquired. I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry, and I could only shake my head at him. He gazed at me for a moment. ‘Are you feeling quite the thing? You look awfully pale, you know.’

  I forced a smile, and finally managed to make my mouth work. ‘I’m quite well, thank you. I - I expect it’s this gray gown I’m wearing. It always makes me look rather white in the face. I don’t know why I bought it, really.’

  His features relaxed at once. ‘That explains it then.’ And sitting down opposite me, he went on, ‘I wanted to ask your advice.’

  ‘By all means,’ I said, clasping my hands tightly in my lap to stop them trembling. As he began to talk I felt as if none of this was really happening to me, as if I was watching myself from afar. I wished he would go away and leave me alone, for I had this wretched lump in my throat and no amount of swallowing made it disappear.

  In the beginning I had feared Mr Reevers was more interested in my fortune than in me. But it wasn’t long before I came to believe that the expression in his eyes when he looked at me was genuine. The conviction that he truly cared for me had grown steadily over these past weeks, to the point where it seemed as certain as the arrival of the morning light. Yet, in her letter, Marguerite wrote that Mr Reevers had admitted to Giles that he’d pursued Sophie because of her fortune. Was that all I meant to him too? Had I really fallen into the same trap? I could not bear to think of it. And, quite suddenly, I felt sick.

  Mr. Hamerton’s voice intruded into my thoughts. ‘Well, that’s it in a nutshell, ma’am.’

  Only then did I realise I hadn’t heard a word he’d said, and I tried hard to pull myself together. ‘I’m sorry Mr. Hamerton, would you go over it again, please.’

  He looked at me in concern. ‘I fear you are not well, ma’am. I should not have troubled you.’

  I tried to smile. ‘I have a headache, that’s all.’

  ‘I knew there was something. Can I get you anything?’

  ‘Thank you, but no. What was it you wanted to see me about?’

  ‘Nothing that won’t keep for another day. Merely advice about furnishing my new house.’

  At that moment my aunt and uncle came into the room, and conversation became more general. Somehow I got through the evening without anyone commenting that I wasn’t myself. When my aunt and uncle retired for the night at ten, I went up to my own bedchamber feeling very tired. After my maid had brushed my hair, I sent her off to bed. The instant she closed the door behind her, I took out Marguerite’s letter and read it through to the end, but there was nothing of importance after the point where I had been interrupted.

  I tried telling myself I’d had a lucky escape, that I had been fortunate to discover the truth about Mr Reevers before I threw caution to the winds and accepted an offer from him. As I had been about to do. I could not allow my fortune and Westfleet to pass into his hands, unless I was certain he cared for me for myself. Marriage with affection on both sides might not always be easy, but without it what would my life become?

  At least I had found out in time, and I reminded myself that he, at thirty-one, had learnt how to make himself agreeable to any woman. He must, I thought miserably, be a very good actor. Tears threatened, but I brushed them away, determined he would not make me cry.

  Pain did not last for ever, I told myself, and until it went away I would simply have to bear it. Until then I intended to keep a proper distance between us. Having

  made this sensible decision, I tried to put him out of my mind, but I could not stop thinking about everything that had passed between us since we’d renewed our friendship in Windsor. Nor could I forget the expression in his eyes when he looked at me, the caress in his voice when we were alone, and the joy at finding a man who laughed at the same things as I did. Yet, it seemed now, that he had meant none of it. And I did not know how I was to bear such heartache.

  CHAPTER TWENTYTWO

  I was in the workroom the following morning, gazing unseeingly at the garden, when Luffe came in to inform me Mr Reevers wished to see me. He’d promised to call, and knowing my aunt and uncle often took a stroll in the hour before nuncheon, he’d deliberately waited until then. But this morning, with storm clouds gathering in the west, they had gone out earlier, and I expected them back at any minute. I looked out the window hoping to see them returning, anything to put off what I knew would be a painful ordeal, but there wasn’t a sign of them, and I forced myself to say, ‘Show him into the drawing room, if you please, Luffe.’

  ‘The drawing room, my lady?’ he repeated in surprise, for after their morning stroll my aunt and uncle invariably repaired to that room. Luffe’s reaction told me that even he knew how things were between Mr Reevers and myself. Or how they had been.

  I nodded. ‘I will be there directly.’

  It took all my courage to face him. For, along with the heartache, there was anger too. Anger that he had taken me in. Yet, I was determined not to let him be aware of it; at all costs to maintain my dignity in front of him. Therefore I lifted my chin, reminded myself that he was only interested in my fortune, and went to join him.

  When I entered the room his eyes alighted on me with an expression that almost made me throw cautions to the winds. How could he look at me in such a way if he was only interested in my fortune? Yet, Sophie Wood had believed he loved her. He came towards me with hands outstretched. ‘At last,’ he declared, beaming. ‘I have waited far too long for this moment.’

  Unconsciously I took a step backwards. ‘My aunt and uncle will be back any minute.’ The ice in my voice was clear even to my own ears.

  He dropped his hands and stared at me in a puzzled fashion. ‘What’s wrong, Drusilla?’

  I shook my head. 'Nothing is wrong. Why should there be?’

  'Something has distressed you. And not a small thing either. What .......’

  'You are mistaken, sir.’

  He reached out and took my hands in his, refusing to release them when I tried to pull them away. 'I am very sure I am not.’ He gave me a long searching look. 'Have I offended you in some way? If so, I beg you to tell me.’

  I knew I ought to tell him, but I was afraid of losing control. I could not bear him to see he had reduced me to tears. In that moment I could not think beyond the need to maintain some kind of dignity.

  Thankfully the door opened then, forcing Mr Reevers to let go of my hands, and I quickly put several feet between us, as my aunt and uncle entered the room. The four of us sat talking of the weather and other innocuous subjects, but my uncle kept looking at me in a way that told me he knew something was wrong. And I wished with all my heart that I could learn to school my features. Shortly afterwards Mr Reevers took his leave, but not before he’d tried to persuade me to walk with
him in the garden; a suggestion I quickly rebuffed.

  That short interview made it very plain that I must not see him alone again. If I did he would ask the same questions, and how could I tell him that I knew he was only making up to me on account of my fortune?

  It didn’t occur to me then that I had on several occasions used precisely those words to rid myself of some man’s unwanted attentions. The difference was I hadn’t cared one jot for any of them, and although I wished I didn’t care for Mr Reevers, the truth was that I did. If I accused him of only being interested in my fortune, he would deny it. Yet, last year, when we barely knew each other, he’d told me he’d sold his family home in order to pay his deceased father’s debts, but hoped to find an alternative way to recoup those losses. I had never forgotten it. The easiest way to regain a fortune was to find a rich wife, and I had so nearly fallen into the trap.

  I’d hoped he would realise now that I had no intention of being used as a means of solving his financial problems, but just after eight the following morning I saw him riding up to the house. Unable to sleep the previous night, I had risen early and breakfasted at seven. Since then only Mr. Hamerton had appeared downstairs, and he was in the breakfast room. Thus I went straight into the hall, where Luffe was about to open the door.

  ‘Luffe, inform Mr Reevers I am not at home, if you please.’

  I saw the surprise in his eyes, but he answered without hesitation. ‘Very good, my lady.’

  ‘Tell him I will be out all day.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  I went into the workroom, but had barely picked up my pen when Luffe came into the room and shut the door. I raised my brows at him. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘It’s Mr Reevers, my lady. I informed him you were not at home—’ He hesitated, as if uncertain how to continue.

  ‘Go on,’ I urged.

  ‘He said he would wait, my lady.’