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Authors: Catherine Lloyd

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Chapter 7
A
s Dorothea still refused to leave her bed, it fell to Lucy to help Penelope sort out the rest of her mother's possessions and start on the arduous task of notifying all her family and correspondents of her death. Not that Lucy minded helping. It gave her the perfect opportunity to quiz Penelope about Mrs. Chingford's relationships. As it was less than two weeks before the funeral, the letters would need to be sent out soon so that mourners could arrive in time for the service.
While Penelope wrote a list of her mother's jewelry, noting which pieces would have to be returned to the Chingford family and which were her own property, Lucy began to tidy the desk.
“Your mother was a great letter writer.”
“She liked to keep abreast of all the gossip.”
“I can make a start on informing her friends about the funeral, if you wish.”
Penelope shrugged. “Most of them won't come. They used her as much as she did them.”
“Luckily, some of the Stanford family are still here and are aware of the upcoming funeral.” Lucy paused. “Was there anyone else at the wedding who you think your mother knew well? I noticed her speaking to Mrs. Fairfax on several occasions.”
“My mother thought that she and Mrs. Fairfax had shared the same nurse for their children.”
“That's quite a coincidence.”
Penelope held up a pair of diamond earrings to the light to inspect them. “Mrs. Fairfax insisted it wasn't possible, but my mother wasn't deterred. She was quite convinced that our old nurse had taken a position at the Fairfaxes.”
“And Mrs. Fairfax denied it.”
“She did. My mother might have been lying. She liked to keep people on edge by claiming she knew things about them that weren't proven.”
“Like Mr. Stanford having hastened his wife's end.”
Penelope's mouth twisted. “She was quite proud of that little controversy. Upsetting the bride, the groom,
and
the groom's sister at a wedding was quite an achievement for her.”
There was a knock at the door, and Betty came in.
“Miss Harrington, Mr. Fairfax is in the parlor. He has a message for you from Major Kurland.”
“Then I will be down directly.” She glanced over at Penelope, who was staring into space. “Do you want me to fetch Anna to help you when she returns? I believe she went driving with Mr. Jenkins.”
“She likes him, doesn't she?”
“I'm not sure. They've known each other for years. Nicholas has always had a
tendre
for her.”
“Then he probably wouldn't be interested in me.”
Lucy stopped walking. “I'm sure you wouldn't think of throwing yourself at a man who is obviously in love with someone else.” She hoped Penelope heeded the warning in her voice. “Anna might seem disinterested in Nicholas, and they do have a tendency to squabble, but—”
“That seems to be a family characteristic.” Penelope picked up her pen again. “You and Major Kurland quarrel like an old married couple.”
“We do not.”
Penelope gave her a skeptical look, and Lucy chose not to speak and left the room. She reached the parlor, where Mr. Fairfax was speaking to her father. He bowed as she approached.
“Good morning, Miss Harrington. I trust you are well? Major Kurland was hoping to obtain your advice on a particular matter and asked if you might accompany me back to the manor.”
Her father patted her shoulder. “You run along with Mr. Fairfax and help Major Kurland, my dear. We'll somehow manage without you.” He turned back to Mr. Fairfax. “And please tell the major that all the details for the service are well in hand, and we can proceed as necessary.”
“I'll do that, Mr. Harrington.”
Lucy went to find her bonnet and pelisse and joined Mr. Fairfax at the front door. Just as they were about to leave, Dorothea Chingford came down the stairs. Her fair hair was hanging down her back, and her black gown was wrongly fastened at the neck. The vacant expression on her face had Lucy starting toward her.
“Dorothea?”
Mr. Fairfax bowed. “Miss Dorothea.”
She stumbled down the last step and came to a stop in front of him.
“Is she still at Kurland Hall?”
“I'm not sure who you are referring to—”
“Mrs. Fairfax.”
Mr. Fairfax shot a bewildered look at Lucy over the top of Dorothea's head. “Yes, she is still in residence. Do you wish to speak to her?”
Dorothea shrank back. “No. She probably wouldn't wish to see me again.”
“I know she was disappointed when you weren't present when we visited. She wanted to offer you her condolences in person, Miss Dorothea.” He paused. “Are you feeling quite well? You
are
very pale.”
Dorothea turned to Lucy. “Mrs. Fairfax came here? Why didn't you
tell
me?”
Lucy moved between Dorothea and Mr. Fairfax. “I believe you were asleep at the time. Your sister did speak to Mrs. Fairfax on your family's behalf.”
“Yes. That's correct,” Mr. Fairfax agreed.
“Mrs. Fairfax should leave Kurland St. Mary.”
There was a rising note of hysteria in Dorothea's voice, which made Lucy cup her elbow. “Please don't distress yourself. I'm sure Mrs. Fairfax will be returning home right after your mother's funeral.”
Dorothea wrenched her arm free. “She should leave now!” Turning, she ran back up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.
Lucy winced. “I do beg your pardon, Mr. Fairfax. Dorothea has been behaving rather strangely since her mother's death.”
“It is of no matter. She is very young and is obviously distraught by what has happened.”
“That is very forgiving of you, sir.”
He offered her his arm, and they set off down the drive together. It was a dreary gray day, but at least there was no rain, which was a blessing.
“How is Miss Penelope Chingford this morning?” Mr. Fairfax asked.
“She is busy sorting through her mother's possessions and deciding who to invite to the funeral. Mrs. Chingford had a wide circle of acquaintances.” Lucy gave him a sideways glance. “In fact, Mr. Fairfax, we wondered if Mrs. Fairfax could tell us the name of their mutual friend so that we could inform her of the funeral.”
“Mutual friend?” Mr. Fairfax continued to walk, his expression puzzled. “I wasn't aware that my father's wife and Mrs. Chingford knew each other well enough to
have
a mutual acquaintance.”
“There was some suggestion of them sharing a nursemaid.”
“I suppose it's possible, but I can't say Mrs. Fairfax mentioned anything specifically to me.”
They turned out of the rectory drive and headed for the gate leading to Kurland Hall.
“One thing I did notice . . .” He stopped speaking and turned to Lucy. “It probably isn't worth mentioning now that the poor lady has died, but if you remember after the wedding, when I escorted Mrs. Fairfax upstairs . . .”
“Yes?” Lucy said encouragingly.
“Well, Mrs. Fairfax was extremely angry about something Mrs. Chingford had said to her.” He sighed. “I don't know exactly what it was, but I've never seen her in such a rage.”
“I find it hard to imagine Mrs. Fairfax becoming agitated, but Mrs. Chingford did seem to have that effect on the mildest mannered of people.”
“Yes. She attempted to sympathize with me about my bastard state,” Mr. Fairfax said dryly. “And how difficult it must be for me to be a social pariah.”
“Oh dear,” Lucy murmured. “I dread to think what she said to Major Kurland.”
“I was close enough to hear the end of that exchange. She commiserated with him for being a reclusive cripple whom no woman in her right mind would ever choose to marry.”
“Did he give her a terrible set down?”
“No. He smiled and changed the subject.”
Lucy shook her head as they approached one of the side doors to the hall.
“Do you know why Major Kurland doesn't ride, Miss Harrington?”
Lucy paused to look up into Mr. Fairfax's face. “You should probably ask him that question.”
“You are right. I should. I did wonder if his injuries meant that he could never ride again.” He hesitated. “It's just that I've noticed he doesn't like to go anywhere near a horse if he can help it.”
“Riding would certainly still be very difficult for him, Mr. Fairfax,” Lucy said carefully. “His whole left leg was crushed under the weight of his horse at Waterloo, and he was very lucky to keep the limb. It is perhaps understandable that he is reluctant to even attempt to ride again.”
“So I should imagine.” Mr. Fairfax bowed. “He is a brave man and more than deserved his elevation into the peerage.”
“He blames me for that.”
Mr. Fairfax grinned. “So he told me. It is a shame that you cannot take on the duties of secretary for the major, Miss Harrington. I believe we would make a formidable team.”
She smiled back at him. “Then you have decided to stay here and not follow Mrs. Fairfax back to your old home?”
He glanced around the deserted corridor and lowered his voice. “I am not convinced Mrs. Fairfax has recovered sufficiently from her grief to make good decisions about the estate. I suspect if I returned, she would constantly undermine my authority or use me as a scapegoat if things went wrong.”
“Then you should definitely stay here,” Lucy said firmly. “Major Kurland may be many things, but he would never lie to you or be underhand.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Harrington.” He cleared his throat. “After years of dealing with Mrs. Fairfax's suspicious nature and being denied the opportunity to get to know my young half brother, I—” He stopped speaking. “I do beg your pardon. There is something about you, Miss Harrington, that makes it all too easy for a man to confide in you.”
Lucy tried not to blush. “Mrs. Fairfax does seem to be driven by her emotions.”
“You have no idea, Miss Harrington. She convinced my father that I was out to steal the estate from my half brother, and nothing I could say to him made any difference.” He sighed. “We were estranged at his death, and I could see there was no future for me at my only home.”
“Then one wonders why Mrs. Fairfax came after you.”
Mr. Fairfax started walking again. “I have wondered about that myself. It is almost as if she has no memory of how badly she treated me before.”
“Some people find it impossible to accept that they are in the wrong, and they pretend that nothing happened. A man in our village ran off to London with his wife's best friend. After a week or so, the woman decided she had made a mistake, abandoned her lover, and returned to the village. She even had the nerve to try to take up her old friendship with his abandoned wife.” Lucy shook her head. “It didn't take her long to realize that people here have very long memories and her chances of being forgotten or forgiven were relatively small.”
Mr. Fairfax chuckled appreciatively. “Ah, the perils and joys of village life.” He paused at the door to the dining room. “I believe Major Kurland is in here.”
 
Robert looked up from his seat at the head of the breakfast table to see Thomas and Miss Harrington framed in the doorway. Judging from Miss Harrington's approving smile, they appeared to be having a mutually agreeable conversation. It belatedly occurred to him that they would suit each other very well.
He stood and bowed. “Good morning, Miss Harrington.”
“Major Kurland.” She curtsied. “Are you still at breakfast? I can wait in your study, if you prefer it.”
“Please come and join us.” He pulled out the chair to his left. “I'm sure all my guests would appreciate any new information on the welfare of Miss Chingford and her sister.”
Miss Stanford almost choked on her toast, and Mrs. Green helpfully patted her on the back. “Yes, how are the two young ladies doing?”
Miss Harrington took the seat Robert offered her, and Thomas sat at the foot of the table, across from Mrs. Fairfax, who was nibbling halfheartedly at a piece of toast.
“Miss Chingford is coping remarkably well. Dorothea is still very upset.”
Mrs. Green nodded. “She seemed to be at odds with her mother before she died. It is always a shock when one realizes it is too late to make amends or apologize.”
Robert knew that all too well. He'd lost many friends in battle, men he'd joked with and shared billets with, dead by the end of the same day, never to return. It hadn't made him walk around, telling everyone he
loved
them, but he'd felt their loss all the same.
Miss Harrington accepted a cup of coffee and leaned toward him. “Was there something in particular you wanted to speak to me about, Major?”
“Yes. I decided it would be a good idea if you were present when Foley mentioned the locket to my guests. You are far better at reading faces than I will ever be.”
“I developed that ability when dealing with my younger siblings.” Miss Harrington sipped her coffee. “Dorothea Chingford accosted poor Mr. Fairfax at the rectory and insisted that Mrs. Fairfax should leave Kurland St. Mary immediately.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I think she knows more about this matter than she has admitted so far. I intend to question her closely when I return home.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Fairfax saw Dorothea push her mother down the stairs.”
“It's possible.” Miss Harrington sighed. “I suppose the locket could be Dorothea's. Mayhap she has a secret lover who gave it to her as a gift. Although, according to her mother, she was in love with Mr. Stanford.”
BOOK: Death Comes to Kurland Hall
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