Deadly Inheritance (21 page)

‘Thank you, Arthur, that would be very pleasant.’

Clutching her glass, Matilda said, ‘Do you believe that Snell fellow will really say something at the inquest, Arthur?’

The butler put his port down. ‘I cannot think speaking up will be of any benefit to Mr Snell – and he has never been known to do anything that was
not
to his benefit.’ His words were reassuring but to Matilda his eyes seemed worried.

‘Does his lordship consider the verdict will be suicide?’ she asked.

‘Can it be anything else?’

Matilda drank down the rich, sweet liquid and felt a slow warmth begin to spread through her veins. Her glass was quickly refilled.

‘An accident, surely.’

‘Tilly, we have been through this. You know how sure-footed that girl was. And what reason would she have had to approach anywhere near that edge?’

Matilda sipped her port slowly and tried not to think of Polly's body spinning down to the river. ‘But suicide! Oh, Arthur, I cannot say I liked Polly, she always had an air that said she thought she was better than you, but I did admire her spirit. I cannot believe she deliberately threw herself down into that river. Nothing’s more terrible than suicide.’

She looked at her old friend, a colleague for so many years. His mouth was tight and an obstinate gleam lit his deep-set eyes.

‘Now, Tilly, don’t start looking for mysteries where there are none. That girl either fell or threw herself down into that river and nothing Mr Snell can say will make any difference.’

‘But …’

‘No, Tilly. Forget what you saw.’

‘Suppose Mr Snell saw them too?’

‘That is nothing to do with you.’ Her hand lay on the table. He held it for a moment. ‘Forget it, Tilly. Remember the family.’

She took her hand away and turned her head.

‘Remember when her ladyship wanted to dismiss you and the Earl refused to let you go?’

How could she forget that battle? She had misunderstood an order and Mr Gladstone, the Prime Minister no less, had been given the wrong room. Mind you, he had had the best sheets, the ones with the Alençon lace edging.

‘You will leave at the end of the month, Parsons,’ the Countess had said.

The fifth Earl, though, had laughed when he heard what had happened. ‘Mr Gladstone would not have minded wherever we put him. I am sure there was some very simple error and I will not see faithful Matilda Parsons turned off for it.’

Was it because he felt guilty over buying the horse that had killed Walter? Or was it because every now and then he had to assert himself with his wife? Or had he remembered a kiss he’d stolen one day in an empty corridor from a very young maid who had thrilled to him but fought to be set free?

Released, she had looked at him with frantic eyes. ‘Oh, my lord,’ she had said, stuffing her hands behind her. ‘Please, don’t.’

He’d laughed and gently pinched her cheek. ‘You are very sweet but worry not, I don’t seduce unwilling maids.’

A moment later he was gone and he’d never approached her again.

Whatever reason the Earl had had for persuading the Countess to retain her services, Matilda knew that from then on her mistress resented her presence. When the Earl died, it had been Lord Richard’s American wife who had insisted on Matilda remaining in her position.

‘You’re right of course,’ Matilda finally said to the butler. ‘I can’t bring trouble on the family. I am sure, though, that Polly met with an accident.’

Now, sitting in bed and waiting for her morning cup of tea, Matilda was not at all sure Polly’s death
had
been accidental. She was certain, though, that it could not have been suicide. She might not have liked or trusted the girl, but to deny her a grave in consecrated ground would be a crime; as much of a crime as suicide itself. If it looked as though that was the verdict the coroner was going to bring, then she, Matilda Parsons, would have to speak.

Ursula feared she might break down when she had to recount her finding of Polly’s body to the coroner.

At breakfast on the morning of the inquest, Belle sat next to her. ‘Dear Ursula, are you feeling very nervous?’

Ursula produced a resolute smile. ‘It will soon be over.’

‘Shall I come too? So I can hold your hand?’

‘Darling Belle, that is very sweet of you, but I shall be all right.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

Belle’s concern filled Ursula with unexpected warmth. For a moment she felt some of the closeness that had existed between them on the voyage from New York.

Ursula smiled again, trying to hold on to this sense of rapport. ‘Tell me, what are you going to do today?’

Belle’s sulky look appeared. ‘Nothing. Helen says she’s busy, you’ll be at the inquest, and William has disappeared.’

‘Disappeared?’

‘He’s gone to see his parents, Helen says. He won’t be back until next week. And he didn’t even say goodbye to me!’

For a moment Ursula thought the girl would burst into tears. Then a maid entered and placed a fresh pot of coffee on the table.

‘Her ladyship asks if you will spare her a few moments in her boudoir, Miss Grandison.’

‘Of course, as soon as I have finished breakfast.’

Ursula took Belle’s hand, only to have it snatched away. ‘Belle, darling, I can see you are unhappy. Can’t you tell me about it?’

Belle rose and walked rapidly around the room, pushing her hands through her hair.

‘Ohhh,’ she moaned. ‘You don’t know, you can’t know.’

Ursula stumbled out of her chair, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she drew the girl into her arms. ‘Belle, darling, don’t. Nothing can be that bad. Talk to me, please.’

Belle pulled herself away. ‘You can’t help me, no one can.’ She ran from the room, slamming the door.

Ursula remembered Helen at the same age and how impossible it was to talk any sense into her when she was emotional – and how trivial the reasons usually were for her temper. Once the inquest was over, she would find Belle and see what could be done to make her life at Mountstanton a little happier.

As she limped along the wide corridor to Helen’s boudoir, the obvious decay in the fabric of the old house seemed more pronounced than ever. Entering the room, its charm and decorative order struck Ursula even more forcibly than it had the first time. She remembered the Dowager Countess’s drawing room. How similar in some ways the two women were. Both strong minded, both determined to have things ordered the way they wanted. But the Dowager seemed dedicated to the Mountstanton name and standing in a way that her daughter-in-law was not.

Helen was sitting at her desk attending to piles of invitation cards and their envelopes.

‘Ah, Ursula. I wanted to tell you that the under-groom will take you, Mrs Parsons and Mrs Comfort to the inquest in the trap. It will leave in half an hour.’

‘You could have sent a message to tell me that,’ Ursula said, anger suddenly rising as she thought of the long walk with her crutches from the breakfast room. Also, it looked as though rain threatened and surely Mountstanton’s senior staff deserved the comfort of a closed carriage on the way to do their duty?

Helen put down her pen. She was dressed simply in cream
crêpe de Chine
, the high-collared, prettily tucked blouse and graceful skirt displaying her slim figure to perfection, a pearl-embroidered belt providing a touch of richness.

She looked coolly at Ursula. ‘I thought you might need a word of advice about this morning. Do take a seat.’

Ursula remained leaning on her crutches. ‘Now why should you think that?’

A slight flush stained Helen’s smooth cheek. ‘You are in a foreign country and it will surely be an upsetting occasion.’

‘Oh, yes; it will be upsetting all right. Do I gather that it will be too upsetting for you to attend?’

‘There is no need for you to take that tone with me. You cannot imagine that, in my position, I can be seen at such an event in our local public house.’

‘But it’s to consider the cause of death of your son’s nursemaid.’

The flush deepened and Helen dropped her gaze. ‘No one is more upset at Polly’s death than I am,’ she said quietly. ‘But nothing I can do now will bring her back.’ She looked up again. ‘No one will expect either myself or the Earl to be there. It’s bad enough that Charles has to give evidence.’

‘And, of course, myself.’

‘The household cannot be kept altogether out of the proceedings.’

Well, that made her status clear.

‘Which is why I thought it best to speak to you beforehand. Richard and I have already talked with Mrs Parsons and Mrs Comfort.’

‘So you can be sure they are not going to say anything detrimental to Mountstanton? What do you think
I
can say? I’d only just arrived here when I found that poor girl’s body. What, exactly, is it that you are afraid of, Helen?’ Ursula was now so angry she was shaking.

‘How dare you!’ Helen flared back at her. ‘As though there is any way
you
could demean
us
.’

‘Then why are you so anxious to discuss my evidence?’

Helen took a deep breath. ‘You have completely misunderstood my intentions. I do not want to discuss your evidence; I only want to ensure that you will feel as comfortable as possible with what is going to happen.’

‘How many inquests have you attended, Helen?’

She flung up her hands. ‘Oh, you never were willing to listen to other people. You’d better go and get ready to leave.’

‘Willingly. But, before I do, what have you got planned for Belle today?’

‘What has that to do with you?’

‘Mr Seldon put me in charge of her. So far I have seen nothing to suggest that you have her best interests at heart. It is your fault she has formed that unsuitable attachment to Mr Warburton.’

‘William has gone to visit his parents; he will not be here,’ Helen said in a tight voice.

‘So Belle understands. Was it you who told him to go? Did you forbid him to say goodbye to her?’

White patches appeared either side of Helen’s mouth. ‘How dare you speak to me like that. I care very much about Belle. There is plenty to amuse her at Mountstanton. There is her music to practise, she can go horseback riding, there are books in the library, countryside to walk in. Boredom displays a lack of character. These invitations,’ she indicated the pile on her desk, ‘are for her coming-out ball. William was to have addressed them but, because his mother is not well, I told him to go to her. Now I have to send them out.’

‘If you really care about Belle, suggest she helps you so you can talk, discuss why she really wanted to visit you and make her debut here.’ Ursula limped towards the door.

‘Ursula,’ Helen said in quite a different voice. ‘Have
you
attended an inquest before?’

‘Yes,’ Ursula replied and closed the door behind her.

Moving jerkily down the corridor, Ursula used her anger at Helen to overcome her memories of the Californian inquest into Jack’s death.

Reaching the hall, she asked the footman if he could be so kind as to collect her wrap from her bedroom. Then she went and joined the housekeeper and the nanny as they waited in the stable yard for the trap to be harnessed. She was surprised to find that the butler was to accompany them.

‘I cannot allow you ladies to go through this ordeal on your own,’ Mr Benson was saying as Ursula joined the little party.

She was touched to see how relieved Mrs Parsons seemed to be. She clutched at the butler’s arm as though it was all that lay between her and disaster. Mrs Comfort seemed less overwhelmed by the occasion.

Halfway to Hinton Parva, rain arrived. Out came umbrellas but the protection they offered was minimal. As they drew to a halt in front of the Lion and Lamb, Ursula accepted the aid of someone’s hand to descend from the trap, her attention concentrated on getting safely down and retrieving her crutches. It was only when they were handed to her that she found herself thanking the Colonel.

‘I apologise on behalf of my family,’ he said in an undertone. ‘I rode here and it never occurred to me you were not all being brought by carriage.’ He turned to help the butler aid the other women to alight.

The yard of the Lion and Lamb was seething with horses, carriages of all types, and a variety of people. The noise was overwhelming as people issued instructions, greeted friends and shouted comments. Ursula felt very vulnerable as she manoeuvred her crutches and was grateful for the Colonel forcing a way through for them.

Inside the inn, space had been cleared for a table and an arrangement of chairs. Sawdust covered the floor and already the seats for spectators were filled with a collection of locals who looked to be eager for sensation rather than attending a sad inquiry into the death of a young girl.

The Mountstanton party was seated to one side. Nearby was Miss Ranner, the teacher who had expressed such interest in Polly, together with the doctor who had attended to Ursula’s sprained ankle. She exchanged greetings with them both. She looked for Mr Snell but could not see him.

‘Morning, Dr Mason,’ the Colonel said.

‘Morning, Colonel. A sad business, this.’

The Colonel nodded, refused the offer of a chair next to the doctor and stood behind Ursula. She heard someone shout, ‘Where’s his lordship, then? What’s he scared of?’

It wasn’t possible to see who had spoken and he was immediately hushed down, but, clearly audible to Ursula, was the Colonel’s sharp intake of breath.

Ten men filed in and sat themselves on the chairs set at right angles to the top table. Amongst them was a man in a sober suit with a dog collar.

‘The jury,’ the Colonel whispered, bending down to Ursula. ‘The vicar is the foreman.’

A preacher had been the foreman at that other inquest. For a moment the room wobbled before Ursula’s eyes.

‘You look very pale, Miss Grandison,’ said the Colonel. ‘Can I fetch you a glass of soda water?’

She nodded gratefully. Somehow he found a barman and obtained the water.

The Colonel’s unobtrusive care of her provided Ursula with a lifeline. He did not have to take her hand or express support in words. It was enough that he was there. Later she could worry about her dependence on his presence.