Death Will Find Me (A Tessa Kilpatrick Mystery, Book 1)

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Death Will Find Me (A Tessa Kilpatrick Mystery, Book 1) Page 2

by Vanessa Robertson


  ‘I wasn’t—’

  ‘Please don’t make excuses James. I know exactly what you were doing. I’m not blind and I’m certainly not a fool. Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking that I am.’ Tessa perched on the arm of the sofa. ‘So, how long has this been going on?’ Her voice was calm, but there was no disguising the steeliness underlying it. Tessa clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms – she would not cry.

  ‘Not long. A couple of months.’ James was wary, as though he’d expected a more hysterical reaction.

  ‘And have there been more? Apart from whoever she is?’ Tessa couldn’t bear to use her name, wanting to diminish her. In any case, she rather suspected that Caroline was interchangeable with others.

  ‘A few.’ He flushed a little. ‘You and I, we haven’t been getting on well. I can’t…’ He ran a hand through his shock of black hair and shook his head.

  ‘Lots of people have had difficulties after the war. The whole world has changed. If you didn’t want to be married to me, then it would have been decent to tell me that you wanted a divorce.’ Tessa heard a crack in her voice and gritted her teeth, willing away the tears.

  ‘Tessa, lots of people have affairs. It doesn’t mean the end for their marriages. Plenty of people have an arrangement like this.’ His tone was almost petulant.

  ‘We don’t. I don’t, at any rate. It seems to me that you have an “arrangement” I was completely unaware of. How many of the people here this weekend know what you’ve been up to?’

  ‘Some.’ He still sounded defiant and she was saddened that he had such disregard for her pain. ‘Most of them, probably.’

  ‘And you were happy to have them laugh at me while you were screwing that whore behind my back?’ Tessa shook her head, imagining the gossip that had surely taken place.

  ‘Don’t be vulgar, Tessa.’

  ‘Really? You don’t think your seedy little assignations are vulgar?’ She was struggling to maintain her composure.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tessa. I—’

  ‘It’s because of the children isn’t it?’ Tessa spoke quietly, the knowledge that this was the reason James had absented himself from their marriage, quelling her anger and replacing it with sadness. It was the subject they’d never discussed properly, just skirted around. James had hardly shared Tessa’s bed in the last six months. She’d thought it was because he couldn’t bear to see her scarred body. That was hurtful, but now she wondered whether it was more that the scars reminded him she was barren. It was another sign she was not the perfect wife he’d expected to come home to. Or because there was simply no point: if she could not even give him children, then he preferred the company of women with unblemished bodies.

  ‘Tessa, you know it’s a problem. With my brothers gone, I’m the heir and I need a son. You know that as well as I do. I should have talked to you but I didn’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘So instead you were biding your time until you decided to ask for a divorce? Trying out a few replacements as it were. Looking for an alternative that was better breeding stock? Or were you hoping I would catch you out like this and make the decision for you? After all, you’d need a reason to divorce me and I’ve never given you one.’

  ‘Never? Are you quite sure?’ He spoke sharply as though leaping at a chance to absolve himself of guilt. ‘That Henderson chap’s here this weekend and he’s never hidden the fact that he thinks a lot of you.’

  ‘I saved his life. I didn’t go to bed with him.’ Tessa was calm, the hopelessness of their situation sinking in. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Or the next day. We’ll work out what we’re going to do.’ She turned to leave the room and James caught her arm.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tessa. I never meant to hurt you.’

  ‘You may not have intended it, James, but you didn’t give a second thought to how I’d feel if I found out. That’s much the same, I think.’

  Tessa left him there, her anger evaporating as she walked away, replaced by a deep sadness that they were unable to give each other what they needed. She would divorce him, citing Caroline she supposed, and he would marry some suitable girl of impeccable lineage who would give him the nursery full of babies the Glenogle title required. Tessa would make a new life for herself, although she had no idea what that might look like.

  In the huge hall, Tessa could hear laughter coming from the billiard room, a half-flight of stone steps away to one side, but she was not minded to join in. She’d prefer to forget today and see if life looked better tomorrow. Even if she couldn’t sleep when she went to bed, she would be able to think.

  ‘Will you join me?’ The voice came from one of the armchairs by the glowing embers of the fire, the occupant barely visible in the near darkness. Tessa knew the voice, probably the only one she wanted to hear at that moment. She took the other chair and the tumbler of whisky that was passed across.

  ‘Hello Bill.’

  ‘I heard raised voices and was a little concerned, so I thought I’d wait here, mostly out of earshot.’ As her eyes adjusted to the firelight, she could see him more clearly. He wore the same stark black and white evening dress as James, and a golden glint from the fire’s glow caught his brown eyes.

  ‘Then you’re the only witness to the end of my marriage. Fortunately.’ Tessa raised her glass to him.

  ‘Really?’ He sounded surprised. ‘I didn’t realise things were quite so bad.’

  ‘You didn’t know about James’s other women?’

  ‘No. People are discreet around me because they know where my loyalties lie. I’ve seen him flirting, but if I’d known it had gone further than that I’d have had words with him.’ He sounded a little hurt that Tessa might think he’d let such a thing pass.

  ‘Apparently there have been a few of these affairs since he came home.’ Tessa filled him in on the barest details and sipped her whisky.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Bill knew her well enough to know he needn’t mince his words or soften them with sympathy. He knew what she’d done during the war and what she’d been through and he understood the demons she’d brought home.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea what to do. Drink a little more whisky, get some sleep and hopefully things will look brighter in the morning. It’s not good for the ego to discover one’s husband in flagrante with another woman. Especially to then find out that she’s not the first.’

  ‘I suppose not. You’ve done nothing wrong though. It’s James who should be slinking about with his tail between his legs.’

  ‘That’s not how it works though, is it?’ Tessa gave a wry smile, unseen in the darkness. ‘Not amongst the people here at any rate. These people aren’t my friends and they’ll enjoy sniggering behind my back.’

  ‘So let them. Don’t grieve for your marriage, James isn’t worth it. You deserve better than him and you know it.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll try to keep my chin up.’

  ‘Exactly. Why don’t we ride out tomorrow morning and blow some cobwebs away, before I go back to London?’ Bill’s suggestion was appealing.

  ‘That sounds good. It will also save me having to make conversation with anyone.’

  ‘I’ll ask someone to have a couple of horses ready. Nine o’clock?’

  ‘Excellent.’ Tessa drained her glass and stood up. ‘I’m off to bed. I’ve had enough of this evening.’

  Bill rose and bent to kiss her cheek. His lips were dry, his breath smelling just a little, not unpleasantly, of single malt. Tessa paused, her pulse quickened and the hand she’d laid on his arm tightened slightly before she pulled herself together and headed towards the stairs. She didn’t know whether Bill’s feelings for her were anything more than brotherly these days, but even if he had more lustful thoughts, taking him to her bed tonight would be a foolish idea.

  Chapter Three

  Tessa awoke at dawn. Sleep had been fitful and she’d kept an ear half-cocked for the sound of James coming to bed. She knew that he would sleep in the dressing room rather tha
n with her, but she had hoped that he would at least maintain a front for the rest of this weekend, rather than let the whole household know their marriage had fallen apart between the port and the late-night whisky.

  When she had confronted James and later, talking to Bill, it had been easy to be purposeful and brave. But alone in her cold bed, she’d felt distinctly less confident about her future. Keeping up public appearances wasn’t important to her, but she would prefer to have these painful discussions with James when they were alone at home, and could make decisions about the manner of their parting without eavesdroppers and who knew how many of James’s other women gossiping in the background.

  A fire was laid in the bedroom grate and Tessa put a match to it, and went to the adjoining room to confirm what she already knew. The bed had not been slept in and there was no sign of James’s evening clothes. Wherever James had spent the night, it hadn’t been here. So much for hoping he would do her the decency of being discreet until they left later that day.

  Florence arrived with her breakfast tray and Tessa hopped back into bed. She was relieved that as a married woman she was not expected to join the others in the party for breakfast in the dining room. She would have gone hungry rather than do that. And for once, she was glad of her mother’s insistence that she take the family’s housemaid, Florence, to act as her lady’s maid. Tessa’s refusal to employ one was a bone of contention, and these occasional concessions on Tessa’s part kept the peace between them on the subject. Florence, who’d been with the family since Tessa was ten, knew her well and Tessa appreciated her loyalty.

  Although Florence said little, it was clear from her sympathetic expression that reports of the argument between Tessa and James had reached the servants’ hall.

  ‘James didn’t come back here last night.’ Florence looked round from tidying Tessa’s clothes and raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsure of how to respond. ‘I need you to find out where he was. Can you ask around among the other servants please? Carefully though, I don’t want any more gossip than necessary.’

  ‘Of course, milady.’

  ‘And I’m going riding this morning, so could you lay out breeches and whatnot please? This afternoon we’ll return to Edinburgh so I’ll need travelling clothes. You can pack everything else.’

  ‘Very well. And His Lordship’s clothes?’ James refused to employ a valet, claiming that it was out-dated. Besides, it was nigh-on impossible to find one these days.

  ‘You know something, Florence? He can look after himself.’ Tessa dropped her eyes, busying herself with buttering her toast as she felt tears welling again. Florence left and Tessa abandoned her breakfast soon after.

  James and Tessa had been allocated one of the better guest bedrooms with their own bathroom, and after cleaning her teeth and splashing her face with plenty of cold water, she was wide-awake and ready to face the day. After their seemingly inevitable divorce, she thought, when she would no longer be the wife of Viscount Kilpatrick, heir to the Earl of Glenogle, she doubted that she would warrant such luxurious accommodation. As a divorced woman, she would be relegated to one of the smaller rooms and a shared bathroom by the hostesses of house parties. Always assuming she was invited in the first place. If they stopped sending the invitations then divorcing James wouldn’t be all bad.

  By the time Florence returned, Tessa was dressed in breeches and a tweed jacket and was rummaging for some gloves, sure that a pair must have been packed.

  ‘Milady, I’m not sure where His Lordship is.’ Florence sounded hesitant, aware that this was not the answer that Tessa wanted but not sure what the preferred response would be.

  ‘Really? Not with that Caroline woman?’

  ‘No.’ Florence blushed a little. ‘I’m told she was looking for him late last night and if he was with one of the other guests then one of the maids would have noticed. Not much slips past them. When I asked the valets and footmen, someone said they saw him leaving the house at around midnight and they assumed that he wanted some fresh air or was going to smoke a cigar on the terrace. No-one seems to have seen him since then. Certainly not this morning.’

  ‘How odd.’ Tessa started pulling on her gloves. ‘I wonder where he can have been all night.’ Then she shrugged. ‘But it’s not my concern any more. I imagine you heard what happened?’

  ‘Well, I—’ Florence looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Don’t worry. I can’t imagine it will be a secret for long. Dozens of people must have heard us arguing.’

  ‘I was sorry to hear about it, milady. I’ll see if I can find out where he is.’

  ‘Don’t bother.’ And plastering on a smile, Tessa left the room, strode purposefully along the landing and skipped down the stairs, intent on giving an air of carefree nonchalance to anyone who might see her. This confidence that she’d reclaimed was fragile, but she was determined to maintain it in front of other people.

  Outside the front door, Bill was already mounted on a steel grey hunter and a groom held a bay mare for her. She checked the girth and swung up into the saddle.

  ‘I’m glad to see you’re wearing breeches. It did cross my mind that you might appear in a habit.’ Bill gathered up his reins while Tessa adjusted her stirrups.

  ‘Not at all. I gave up on that a long time ago. It wasn’t terribly practical during the war if I needed a horse. I couldn’t exactly cart my side-saddle around with me. Shall we ride through the park?’

  They turned the horses and set off down the drive. Snowdrops were forcing their way through the frosty grass on either side, and Tessa and Bill’s breath and that of the horses hung in the air. The ground was like iron; a morning for gentle hacking rather than galloping.

  ‘You look more cheerful this morning.’ Bill was always straight to the point.

  ‘I feel much more optimistic about the future. James didn’t come to bed last night, not even to his dressing room, so I assume he’s decided that there’s no going back. I see no reason that I shouldn’t do the same.’ Tessa didn’t look at Bill, concentrating on the mare’s ears and trying her best to sound blithe.

  ‘Goodness. Spending the night with the woman is a bit rash.’ Bill sounded genuinely surprised. A kind and honourable man, his natural instinct would be to avoid unnecessary hurt even if that meant keeping up appearances until they left. Tessa wished James shared the same values.

  ‘He obviously feels no need to maintain any pretence.’ Tessa guided her horse through the park gate and waited for Bill to latch it behind them. ‘Then again, there is something.’ She filled him in on what Florence had told her about James’s late night walk. ‘Do you think something might have happened to him? No-one seems to know where he is, or if they do they’re not saying. It’s not even gossip in the servants’ hall. If he went out to think about things, with this hard frost he could have slipped, broken something and be lying in a ditch or taken shelter somewhere.’

  Until she said it, she hadn’t been worried, just irked, but depending on how far James had walked he could have injured himself while out of earshot. They were still married, in name at least, and although she cursed it, Tessa felt duty bound to make sure he’d come to no harm.

  ‘The estate is huge. There are a couple of bothies round about and an old ice house. We could take a look at them if you like.’ Bill didn’t sound wildly enthusiastic about spending his morning looking for Tessa’s faithless husband.

  ‘I suppose we should. Just when we pass them, though. I don’t want to waste hours on it when he’s quite probably still in someone else’s bed.’ She glanced back at the house, a Victorian baronial pile covered in turrets and crenellations. A dozen or more windows looked back at her from the upper floors and Tessa wondered which one her husband was behind, possibly even watching her as she rode out.

  A couple of hours later, they had explored the park, ridden across some of the moorland beyond and inspected the various bothies and sheds they’d come across. There was no sign of James, and Tessa had come to the conclusion that
his night had almost certainly not been spent suffering in sub-zero temperatures. He was no doubt warm and comfortable somewhere, not cold and waiting for rescuers to stumble across him.

  As they’d ridden, Bill had been quiet and Tessa wondered how he felt about the disintegration of her marriage. When she’d rescued him in France, they hadn’t had time for pleasantries even when they were safely behind Allied lines. Tessa had been about to go on leave, and a friend who drove ambulances was waiting to give her a lift to Calais. He’d written to thank her properly and they’d kept in touch by occasional letter, and even run into each other a couple of times when they’d had time to chat over a cup of tea. They’d met again by chance when both were passing through London: he about to spend a week’s leave with his family in Dorset and Tessa was returning to the Front after a snatched few days with James, which had revealed some of the cracks in their marriage.

  Contrary to the rules of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, they had had dinner together without a chaperone, and Tessa’s loneliness, fear and need for comfort had almost got the better of her. Tessa still felt guilty about that night, not least because Bill deserved better and she wished she hadn’t led him on, but the fact was that she’d already made her choice. Everything had changed now though, and one day she would have to think seriously about her feelings for Bill.

  Turning for home, looking forward to hot coffee to warm their hands and a fire to thaw their feet, Tessa noticed a boathouse on the north side of the lake and pointed with her whip.

 

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