Deadly Engagement: A Georgian Historical Mystery (Alec Halsey Crimance) (20 page)

Alec put on his gold-rimmed spectacles. “I would not put my money on it, Cosmo.”

Sir Cosmo followed Alec into the servant stairwell, one step at a time as his friend occasionally stooped to peer at the worn unpolished steps.

“Still, without that letter Ned has free reign to continue spreading an even uglier rumor about your paternity. It’s been doing the rounds since Lady Delvin’s death. Of course no one who knows you believes a word of Ned’s incredible claim so that’s why it’s never truly seen the light of day. Most believe he’s merely spouting drivel to have his revenge on your mother for making a confession at all.” Sir Cosmo peered down at Alec who was on his haunches. “May I know what it is you’re up to?”

“The intruder may have dropped something on these stairs and as it is dark one must grope around a bit. So far all I’ve managed to do is stick my fingers with bits of broken glass! What drivel?”

“Ah! That. Ned says the real reason the Countess disowned you was because her adultery wasn’t with your uncle but with his Mulatto valet.” When Alec righted himself but did not turn about Sir Cosmo added in a rush, “I know! I know! It’s absurd. But if the babe she carried belonged to her husband’s brother why would she need to give you up? The Earl’d never know the difference. No one would. But if in truth she and the Mulatto were lovers then it’s understandable she was half-crazy with worry. After all, there was every chance the babe would be colored. According to Ned, she tried all sorts of ways to quicken the babe before its time, but nothing worked and she was forced to carry the child to term in secrecy.” Sir Cosmo pulled a face and followed Alec up the remaining stairs to Emily’s bedchamber. “Of course it’s only reasonable she’d want to rid herself of such unnatural offspring. After all, it’s against nature; white and colored breeding. It don’t bear thinking about. Sorry I mentioned it. Ned’s a lunatic for even suggesting—”

Alec threw open the servant door and stepped into the semi-darkened bedchamber. He faced his friend who had entered the room with a sheepish grin. “Uncle Plant’s major domo, Joseph, was a mulatto free-slave from Uncle’s plantations in the West Indies,” he stated calmly, his tone belying the suppressed anger in his angular face. “He left my uncle’s employment around the time I went up to Oxford, married the daughter of a Scot’s lawyer and moved to Edinburgh. He and my uncle are regular correspondents; Joseph’s most recent letter carrying the news of the birth of his second grandchild and the fact he has decided to retire as head of chambers. He is a decent man and it is ludicrous to think he and my mother had an affair!”

“Of course! Ludicrous!” Sir Cosmo said with an uncertain smile. “As if the Countess of Delvin and a Negro were lovers!”

Alec drew back the curtains so that the room was fully bathed in light. “I can well imagine Delvin spreading such utter tripe for it not only degrades Lady Delvin but Joseph Cale’s good character. I don’t pretend to understand my brother’s perverted mind; what I do know is that he detests me all the more because I don’t give a fig which one of us is the eldest son. I am content with my life as it is. He, however, could be living a lie and that gnaws away at him day and night. Thing is, Cosmo, I don’t want to be Earl of Delvin or of anything else.”

Sir Cosmo could only gaze at him in wonderment, his back to the room; the fact that they now stood in Emily’s disordered bedchamber momentarily forgotten. “You really don’t, do you?” He shook his head. “But to a man of Ned’s disposition, Lady Delvin’s confession must burn him up. Miserable, I’d say. Got it all, yet what is it all worth if he doubts it is truly his? I feel for him. Don’t know what I’d do myself if I thought I was living a lie. Thank God I’m an only son. Still, it would be interesting to find this missing letter; to see your mamma’s confession written in ink.”

“Cosmo,” said Alec, stepping past his friend to move into the room, “you may not want to stay…”

Sir Cosmo turned about at that and his mouth dropped open. It felt as if his jaw had swung to the floor, so startled was he by the wanton chaos in this feminine bedchamber now starkly evident in the cruel light of day. On an expletive, he crossed to the narrow ebony curio cabinet by the four-poster bed, glass crunching underfoot. “I gave Emily this curio for her fifteenth birthday. Look at it now!” he said with angry incredulity, turning about to stare at the glass littering the carpet. “How dare that brute smash it up!”

Alec crouched at the doors to the cabinet and gingerly touched a long sliver of glass. “The glass door has been smashed inwards.” He peered at the carpet. By the leg of the cabinet he found a rounded thickened piece of glass. “Looks like a water tumbler must’ve fallen off the cabinet and was ground underfoot. And a heavy foot at that… Reason for the glass on the stairs just now.” He stood up, a frown between his brows. “I’d say your curio cabinet was accidentally struck during a struggle…”

Both men looked fleetingly at the tumble of bedclothes.

Sir Cosmo replaced a porcelain figurine of a King Charles Spaniel in the damaged curio cabinet and tugged at the folds of his cravat as if for air. “Must you do that?” he pleaded as Alec lifted the mountain of down pillows away from the mahogany headboard.

“Yes. As I said, you needn’t stay.”

Sir Cosmo stuck out his bottom lip in embarrassment, turned his back on proceedings and stared out of the window, determined to give his mind another direction than dwell on what had happened in this room the night before. Looking out on the view he caught sight of a party of riders crossing the velvet lawns from the direction of the river to the stables; amongst their number was Lord and Lady Gervais, she flirting outrageously with Lord Andrew Macara while her hulk of a husband followed, hunched broodingly in the saddle.

The continued silence at his back had Sir Cosmo looking over his shoulder and he was relieved to see that Alec had moved away from the bed and that the bedclothes and pillows had been neatly rearranged. Somehow this made it easier for him to leave the window and join his friend who was setting to rights a chair.

“Find anything of interest?” he asked lightly, though his voice broke in the middle.

Alec shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. I had hoped the bedclothes might reveal a scrap of lace or ribbon or an object fallen from the attacker’s pockets but—nothing. Damn it! It’s as if the man came up here cunningly devoid of frippery.”

“You mean the monster wasn’t wearing lace at his wrists or a frockcoat?” He gulped. “That’s fiendishly premeditated, Alec.”

Alec looked over the rims of his spectacles. “Or devilishly coincidental.”

“Meaning?”

“Just now in the Billiard room,” explained Alec. “You didn’t notice the empty bottles, the cues left lying about, the frockcoat in the corner?”

“Of course. Neave just tidied the mess up and took the frockcoat and bottles with him. Damn lax of the servants to leave—”

“Damn! No matter. I’m sure Neave will return the frockcoat to its rightful owner.”

“Alec? You don’t think the owner of that frockcoat was the one who—” Sir Cosmo gripped the poster as if for support. “And just moments before he’d been playing at billiards as we had with his fellows when he got the urge to—That’s positively bestial!”

“Cosmo, take your fingers away from the post.”

Sir Cosmo did as he was told, wholly mystified.

“Look here,” Alec said, inspecting the post through his spectacles. He pointed to a splinter in the wood just under where Sir Cosmo’s hand had gripped the post. He ran a long finger down the carving. “Do you see the hairs caught here? Long, black hairs. Emily has fair hair. How would hair get caught in such a place?”

Sir Cosmo screwed up his eyes. He didn’t understand what he was looking at.

Alec looked over his gold rims. “These few hairs must belong to Jenny. If I’m not very much mistaken this is where Jenny’s head hit the poster. Whether it was intentional or not... Although the bruising about her neck and jaw, like that of a handprint, to my mind suggests that she did not merely run into the poster but—Cosmo? Are you perfectly well?”

Sir Cosmo’s face was ashen. He groped in a frockcoat pocket for his lace-bordered handkerchief. It fell to his feet and as he scrambled to pick it up he felt himself heave. With a muffled apology through the handkerchief pressed to his mouth he made a dash to the window.

“It’s wrong!” Lady Sybilla complained, wringing her hands. She was hot and shaking. “I won’t have any part of this! I won’t, Charlotte!
I won’t
!”

“Oh, be quiet! I’m not asking you to do anything. As if you could,” her sister said contemptuously. She wandered about the bedchamber. “This room will do nicely.”

“What?” Lady Sybilla’s eyes widened as she followed her sister. She swallowed convulsively when Lady Charlotte stopped by the bed. “Not here! You can’t have my room. There must be a dozen empty bedchambers. There’s
your
room.”

“Don’t be a complete simpleton. Macara’s room is next door. He could very easily barge in on us. He does that occasionally. And we can’t use one of the spares because they’re in dust sheets. What would Oliphant think if we showed him into a room shut up and musty and without benefit of your maid and—fresh flowers?” Lady Charlotte admired the large colorful bouquet and inhaled the heady scent. “What fool gave you these?”

“Emily.”

“How utterly sweet of her,” Lady Charlotte said with a twisted smile and pulled a petal from a white rose. “She’s always preferred you. That’s because you over-indulge her, just like Mamma.”

“You know that isn’t true. It’s just that she and I are closer in age. I was still in the schoolroom when she was born and you were just married to Macara, so weren’t around to—”

“Thank God I wasn’t! I couldn’t have stood to watch Mamma fawn over Madeleine’s bastard brat.” Lady Charlotte shuddered dramatically and almost at once collected herself. “Oliphant will need the services of your maid. You will of course oblige. We can’t stay here. Well, you won’t. You can wait in your sitting room. If he asks for me to remain I will have to agree.”

“You can’t mean to go through with this! It’s
monstrous
.”

“Stop blubbering and use your handkerchief! Of course it’s not monstrous, you stupid woman. It’s in her best interests. It will stop any scandal-mongering before it begins. Do you want people to think she isn’t a virgin on her wedding night? Do you want to be stared at every time you go to Almacks? To have the family name bandied about like a common thing? Show sense, Sybilla. It’s not as if this sort of thing isn’t done from time to time. I realize it is unpleasant to think we have to stoop to seeking Oliphant’s services in this way, but I assured Lord Delvin the man is terribly discreet.”

“Delvin? You consulted him?”

Lady Charlotte drew herself up. “Don’t look at me like that! If you must know he consulted me. And very proper of him, too!”

Lady Sybilla gave an hysterical sob.

“Be of some use and call your maid. Get her to find some towels and hot water and clean cloth. I suppose Oliphant requires all those things.” She tidied her hair in the looking glass that hung over the mantle. “And tell her to be quick about it!” she called out, even though Lady Sybilla had not moved. “He can’t be too much longer. How many dishes of tea can the man drink with Mamma?”

A scratch on the door and at Lady Charlotte’s command a footman came in to announce Sir John Oliphant, a man of middle height and prone to fat, who wore a creaking corset and the latest style of wig
a la pigeon
. The richness of his frockcoat and breeches proclaimed the courtier rather than a learned man of medicine.

His keen eyes sensed hostility in the Lady Sybilla, who greeted him with nothing more than a pinched-face look. He acknowledged her with a bow then focused all his attentions on the elder sister to whom he had spoken at length upon arriving at St. Neots House.

“As you predicted, my lady, her Grace was not at all pleased to see me. However, I did leave her in a better mood. She has a weak heart, as you know, and a disturbance of so shocking a nature as you described can only have caused her much strain. I am pleased to say that she is in excellent health and bearing up well.”

“That is good news, Sir John. I am relieved to hear you say so. Again I thank you for taking the time to come and see Mamma.”

Sir John smiled. “My lady, please, it was the merest trifle of inconvenience. And it is always a pleasure to share a dish of the Duchess’s most excellent tea.”

And half a dozen cream cakes too, thought Lady Charlotte. She said, “You did not mention…?”

“Of course not, my lady,” he reassured her. “I agree with you wholeheartedly in the matter. The less her Grace is disturbed the better for her health.”

Lady Sybilla twisted her handkerchief in a tight ball. “Mamma will be far more disturbed to be left ignorant of your intentions!”

“Dear lady,” began Sir John and was interrupted by Lady Charlotte who lifted her hand.

“Sybilla! Did I not ask you to give orders to your maid?”

“It’s horrid!
Horrid
,” Lady Sybilla threw at them and rushed from the room with her lace handkerchief pressed to her mouth.

“She’s very highly strung. Has been since a child,” Lady Charlotte said with a dismissive smile. “Won’t you be seated, Sir John? Emily will be here at any moment. Ah! Here she is now. Emily, dear, this is Sir John Oliphant come to pay you a visit.”

Emily had come in without knocking. When she saw Lady Charlotte her first reaction was to go quietly out again, but she was seen. She knew Sir John as he had attended on her grandmother for several years. And just now, when she had wanted to speak to her, was told by Neave that Sir John was taking tea with the Duchess. Seeing the physician in Lady Sybilla’s rooms she immediately presumed her aunt to be unwell.

“Is Aunt Sybilla feeling poorly?”

“Where is your curtsy, child?” Lady Charlotte said lightly, propelling Emily by the shoulders to where Sir John stood by the window. “You must forgive her, Sir John. The events of the past day…”

Emily shot her an angry look of embarrassment but dutifully curtsied and had her hand kissed. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” she said and wiped her wet hand across the small of her back, for which gesture her aunt could have slapped her face.