Mistress of Greyladies (21 page)

He decided to go down and fill a hot-water bottle, which sometimes helped.

There was a light in the library and his mother was in there, feverishly pulling out papers from the drawers of the desk and tossing them aside when she couldn’t find what she wanted.

‘Are you all right, Mother?’

She jumped and let out a squeak of shock, then sank down on an armchair. ‘No. I’m not all right. I suddenly wondered whether Selwyn had made a new will in your favour. He said he was going to do it. Mr Gerrington sent it to him, but he
never received the signed copy back as arranged.’

‘It’ll be somewhere,’ he said soothingly. ‘Selwyn will have signed it and forgotten to put it in the post. Look, come upstairs again and—’

She threw off the arm he’d put round her shoulders. ‘You don’t understand. He didn’t leave the property to you in the old will, said a cripple couldn’t manage it. It went to a distant cousin.’

‘Then I’ll go back to live at Greyladies.’

She grabbed his arm and gave it a hard shake. ‘No, you won’t! We need you here. And I
won’t
have the house going to a nasty old cousin when I still have one son left to inherit. I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent that.’

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was in such an agitated state, he didn’t try to reason with her. ‘Let me help you look, then.’

But though they searched every single drawer in the library, no will was discovered.

At length she realised he was looking pale and rubbing his hip, found out why and insisted on filling a hot-water bottle for him.

As they walked up the stairs, she said quietly, ‘I mean it. I won’t let them take this house away from you. I’ll think of something, if I have to forge Selwyn’s signature.’

Joseph was too tired and in too much pain to care about that at the moment. Relieved that Harriet hadn’t woken, he slipped into bed, found a slightly easier position with the warmth of the earthenware bottle in its flannel cover soothing his aching hip, and managed to get to sleep.

When they discussed it in the morning, Harriet remained serenely certain that he would inherit. It was one of the rare
occasions when they disagreed, and her certainty rather annoyed him, though he tried to hide that.

He couldn’t work out what could possibly happen to change things if there wasn’t a will in his favour. It made him feel very sad to think he wouldn’t be coming back to live in the place he had never stopped thinking of as ‘home’.

Sadder than he’d expected.

The shopping trip into Swindon went very well, and to Phoebe’s relief, there was no sign of Frank. After they got back, Mrs Stein was bubbling over with pleasure at having something to do with her time and couldn’t wait to get started.

Mr Stein was delighted to have his beloved Trudi by his side and to see her working happily.

Only Phoebe kept worrying. She felt as if a cloud was hanging over her, a dark and threatening cloud, and as the days passed, she jerked awake from a nightmare several times.

She and Corin avoided talking about their situation, because they couldn’t see any easy solution. They made the most of every moment they could spend together, always comfortable with one another, in spite of the decision that hovered between them.

Then he was called up to London and came back accompanied by the man who had been appointed to take over the management of Greyladies. The captain had lost a leg early in the war but was still considered fit to serve in an administrative capacity.

Phoebe had known Corin would have to leave, but she hadn’t thought it would happen until the two of them had
resolved their problems. Surely they could find a way to marry? There had to be a way to compromise.

Now the wartime needs of the country had to take precedence over the needs of an individual and Corin was busy handing over the reins to the captain. Soon he’d be gone.

On their last evening together, they planned to go for a walk, but it rained heavily, and the only sheltered place they could find to be alone was the crypt.

She unlocked the metal grille that closed off the entrance and held the lamp high. ‘Harriet brought me here once, but we didn’t have time to explore it properly. What a pity it’s dark.’

‘I think there are some other lamps on this shelf. Shall we light one?’

Even with the increased light, the place was full of shadows that tricked the eye and seemed to move. But Phoebe forgot them as they found a stone shelf to sit on and Corin took hold of her hand.

‘If I haven’t said anything, it’s because I can’t seem to decide what to do about our situation,’ he said abruptly. ‘I feel as if I need to see my home first and … get this war over. Will you wait for me?’

‘Of course.’ She was disappointed, though she tried not to show it.

He kissed her, but it wasn’t a lingering kiss and with a sigh, he rubbed his eyes. ‘I’m not good company tonight, I’m afraid. I’m very weary.’

‘I can see that. I hope you’ll have a day or two to recover before you start your next assignment.’

‘I doubt it. I have to report to David Brookes tomorrow
afternoon. For the time being, you’d better write to me care of my aunt. You will write, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will.’

That meant she wouldn’t know where he was, couldn’t even seek his help if her worst fears were realised and Frank turned up.

She was still having nightmares about him, still feeling as if a threat was hanging over her.

In the end, Corin yawned and said, ‘I’ll have to get some sleep, darling.’

She thought she saw a glow in one corner as they left the crypt, but she must have been mistaken, because when she paused to look more carefully, she saw nothing unusual, only a dark space. But it comforted her to think Anne Latimer might be keeping an eye on her.

Out at his parents’ farm, Frank was fretting. He had never enjoyed life in the countryside. It was too full of noisy animals and birds that seemed to wake at a ridiculously early hour, not to mention insects that stung you. Because he was in hiding, he had to spend most of his time shut up in the house, with no one to talk to because his mother and stepfather were outside working.

His mother had wormed the tale of what had happened out of him and fussed over him so much, worrying about his heart, that he kept going out to the storage barn which supposedly belonged to his boss, to keep out of her way.

Even that was frustrating, because at the moment he didn’t dare try to sell anything. They’d have made him a neat little fortune, these goods would. He’d never felt as frustrated in his whole life.

Inevitably, he spent a lot of time thinking about Phoebe. He knew she didn’t want him, but he wanted her, and it wasn’t for women to choose who they married anyway; that was the man’s choice. Anyway, once she was with him, she’d come round, of course she would. Especially when she found out how much money he’d have.

After all, the other fellow hadn’t married her, had he?

He checked the post every day. The woman who ran his little sideline in Swindon was keeping watch for him. She wrote twice to say the police had come nosing round, but she’d sworn blind she didn’t know where he was and they’d gone away again.

They’d asked other people if they’d seen Frank, too.

Worst of all, there hadn’t been any sign of Phoebe in Swindon, and he had people watching out for her. He’d promised twenty pounds if anyone found out where she was, and he knew how eager these folk were to earn that much money.

He pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it. Time seemed to be passing even more slowly than usual today. It was a relief when his mother came back at noon to make dinner and called out a greeting.

He didn’t feel optimistic as he popped his head through the kitchen door. ‘Any letters for me, Ma?’

‘Yes, love. I put it on the mantelpiece an hour ago. The post came early today. You were out at the barn, I think.’

Then why the hell hadn’t she called him in? She knew he was waiting to hear about something.

He snatched the envelope and took it outside to read.

The memorial service for Selwyn was more thinly attended than the ones for Joseph’s two brothers had been.

Mrs Dalton wept intermittently and when the lawyer called them together for the reading of the will, she berated him for not getting her eldest son to make a new will in favour of his youngest brother, brushing aside his protests that he had drawn one up, but could hardly have forced Selwyn to sign it.

Joseph tried to put an arm round her but she shook it off and shouted at him to let her go. ‘Don’t you realise what will happen? The estate will go to a stranger who will no doubt throw me and those poor women out on the streets. Selwyn has done both you and the family wrong, not leaving the estate to you. You’re his
brother
!’

One of Selwyn’s friends, who’d barely arrived in time for the funeral, stopped dead in the doorway as she said this, looking at her in shock.

The lawyer called across to him, ‘This is for the reading of the will, sir, family only.’

‘I know about the will. That’s why I came.’

‘I don’t understand. Who are you, sir?’

‘I’m Charles Parker, representing Selwyn’s regiment, and …’ He fumbled in his pocket. ‘I’ve brought your son’s last will and testament, Mrs Dalton. He wasn’t killed instantly, actually, and had time to sign the will and have the chaplain and myself witness it before he died.’

‘Is it the one I drew up?’ the lawyer asked.

‘I can’t tell, but I doubt Selwyn wrote this.’ He walked forward and handed a battered envelope to the lawyer. ‘He was on his deathbed when he signed. The chaplain said it would serve its purpose, even though his handwriting was shaky.’

The lawyer opened the crumpled envelope and scanned
the will, shuddering at a brown smear in one corner that looked suspiciously like dried blood. ‘It’s his handwriting, Mrs Dalton, and it’s the will I drew up. Selwyn has left everything he possessed to his youngest brother Joseph Dalton, now known as Joseph Latimer.’

She moaned and swayed as if about to faint, so Harriet quickly helped her to sit down on the nearest chair.

Everyone stood silently watching, not sure what to do next.

Mrs Dalton took a few deep, sobbing breaths and said simply, ‘I’m all right now. I’m so very glad, not only that you’ve inherited Dalton House, Joseph dear, but also that Selwyn did the right thing by the family. I shall think better of him for that.’

Joseph turned to the officer. ‘Thank you for bringing the will.’

He nodded.

‘Can we offer you a room for the night?’

‘No, thank you. I have a staff car waiting to take me back. I’m sorry I was late. We had a flat tyre.’ He inclined his head to everyone and left the room.

‘I think I’d like to lie down now,’ Mrs Dalton announced. ‘I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I’m exhausted.’

Harriet helped her up. ‘I’ll see you to your room, shall I?’

‘Thank you, dear.’ This time she didn’t spurn her daughter-in-law’s offer of help.

The lawyer waited till they were out of earshot then turned to Joseph. ‘You’ve inherited a poisoned chalice, I’m afraid, and—’

The officer ran back into the room. ‘Sorry. I nearly forgot. This is from Algernon Smythe-Pawcett. They were playing
cards the night before your son was killed, and Selwyn won some money from Algie, who says he’ll honour the debt as soon as he gets back to Blighty on leave.’

He slapped a piece of crumpled paper into the lawyer’s hand, and raced out again, muttering, ‘Got to go. Running late.’

The lawyer looked down at it and gasped. ‘This is for ten thousand pounds!’

Joseph felt angry. ‘Selwyn risked ten thousand pounds at cards! Risked losing the estate. He must have been mad.’

‘There are other debts, as well,’ the lawyer said.

‘How much?’

‘About four thousand pounds, as far as I can make out.’

‘From gambling?’ Joseph spat the words out.

‘Not all of it. There are tailors’ bills, and so on.’

‘I have some money of my own. If you’ll find out exactly how much Selwyn owed, we’ll discuss how to pay off the debts later.’ He looked firmly at the lawyer. ‘You will not find me as careless an owner as my brother was. And by the time my sons inherit, the estate will be worth inheriting. I swear that.’

Harriet came back just then. ‘What do you swear, darling?’

He explained.

‘Don’t look so grim. We’ll be all right.’

‘I’m risking our boys’ inheritance. The money owed will be a large percentage of what I’ve made by careful management of my money. And if this gambler chap doesn’t pay the larger amount, I don’t know what I’ll do.’

‘What
we
will do. I haven’t had time to tell you, but in the same post as you heard about Selwyn, I received news
from the trust lawyer that I will be given a generous sum of money when I leave Greyladies. So we’ll still have something to fall back on.’

He closed his eyes and let out a low groan of relief.

She watched him sympathetically. ‘You’re no gambler, are you, Joseph?’

‘No. Never. I couldn’t live like that.’ He turned to the lawyer. ‘Thank you for your help.’

‘I’ll be in touch, Mr Dalton. There’s nothing else to settle at the moment, not till I have more information.’

‘Mr Latimer,’ Joseph corrected, looking at his wife. ‘I think this family needs a new start. Anyway, I’ve changed my name officially now. I’m not changing back.’

The lawyer paused in collecting his papers. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Very sure.’

Harriet had to ask, ‘Won’t that upset your mother?’

‘It might. But it’s you I’m concerned about. What would you really like to be called?’

‘Latimer,’ she admitted.

‘So would I. It’s an honourable name. You’re giving everything else up, so you should keep your name.’

Frank slipped out of the house and ripped open the letter, reading it quickly, then reading it again with a smile.

His mother came to the kitchen door. ‘Everything all right, dear?’

‘Everything’s fine, Mum. I’ll have to go into Swindon, though not till after dark. It’s all right. I won’t overdo things. I’ll be staying with a friend, who’ll run me round in his car.’

‘I thought you wanted to keep out of the way of the police.’

‘I do. I shall. But there’s someone I have to see.’

He would have pushed past her into the house, but she grabbed his arm. ‘You’re not going after Phoebe again, are you?’

‘No, of course not. And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.’

‘You
are
going after her. Oh, Frank, let her be. There are other girls who’d make much better wives for a man like you.’

‘Mind your own business, Ma.’

It was fully dark by the time the bus drew into Swindon.
Frank had developed an occasional tickle of a cough in the past few weeks, which made a good excuse for wrapping a scarf round his neck and mouth. He hurried away from the bus and set off through the streets, avoiding the well-lit areas.

Sid was waiting for him, eager to talk.

‘Give me a minute to catch my breath,’ Frank said irritably. He was feeling tired today, the excitement, probably. He had to calm down. That’d stop his heart fluttering.

‘Come and sit down, love,’ Sid’s wife said. ‘I’ll get you a nice cup of tea.’

Sid joined him.

‘Tell me how you’re so sure about her.’

‘I
saw her
. She’d got her hat pulled down, so I nearly walked past her, then I realised who it was, so I followed them.’

‘Them? Was she with that damned officer again?’

‘No. She was with an old woman and a middle-aged man.’ Sid sniggered. ‘I know him. He used to live in the next street to us.
And
I know where he works.’

‘He may be her new fellow,’ Frank said grumpily.

‘No. He’s a lot older than her and married. And anyway, he was very respectful towards her.’

‘So where does he work?’

‘At that old house in Challerton. Greyladies it’s called. They’ve took it over for a convalescent hospital an’ he’s an orderly there.’

‘Is she nursing there?’

‘She wasn’t wearing a nurse’s uniform.’

Frank leant back, accepted a cup of tea and sipped it happily. He’d found Phoebe and she’d not escape this time.
He looked across at Sid. ‘You can take me there and hang around in case she needs persuading to see sense. I’ve been ill, not got my strength back yet.’

Sid looked uneasy.

‘I’m not going to hurt her,’ Frank said irritably. ‘I want to
marry
her. But I may need to persuade her a bit.’

‘Oh. All right, then. As long as you pay me for the information.’

‘I will if we find her. Tomorrow, we’ll drive out to have a look round.’

When Phoebe woke, her first thought was how sad it was that Corin had gone away. She’d miss him dreadfully. Still, no use moping. It’d change nothing.

She got up and started her shift. Some of the internees were frail and needed help getting dressed or getting breakfast. And of course there were the meals to prepare for: endless trays to set and carry round.

The internees took the evening meal in the dining room. That meant setting the table and clearing it afterwards. At least they were tidy eaters, with good table manners, so they didn’t make too much mess for her to clear up.

When she’d finished setting the table, Matron told her to take a break and go for a stroll outside.

‘I’ll just put my feet up in my room for a few minutes.’

‘No. You’re looking peaky and need some fresh air. Half an hour at least.’ She patted the younger woman’s arm. ‘You’re missing him already, I can tell.’

Phoebe could feel herself flushing. Did everyone know how she felt about Corin? Was it so obvious?

When she got outside, it was still light and she was glad
Matron had insisted on this stroll. She took a sudden fancy to explore the crypt properly. There was time to make a start if she hurried. She and Corin had caught some glimpses of carved stonework and goods from the house were stored there. She was sure Harriet wouldn’t mind her looking round.

Then she realised that it’d be up to her, not Harriet, in future, to deal with the household details. All the more reason for getting to know every single part of her inheritance, what was stored where. One day it’d all need to be put back in place.

She nipped into the kitchen of the old house, telling Cook, ‘I just need a key.’ The huge old iron key was hanging in its usual place. It was too heavy to put in her pocket, so she carried it, smiling at the thought of how many chatelaines had used this key.

It turned easily in the lock of the crypt and she pushed the door open with a feeling of eager anticipation, leaving the key in the lock.

She felt a sense of welcome and a light began to glow in one corner. She took a step in that direction, but suddenly there was the sound of the metal grille slamming shut behind her. She spun round. There was no wind, so how could the door have closed?

Then she heard the key turning in the lock. It was just out of sight at the end of the short entrance passage. Had someone deliberately shut her in? Why? She moved cautiously sideways till she could see the door and when she did, her heart began to pound with fear.

Frank was standing at the other end of the corridor, just inside the crypt, leaning against the grille. His arms were
folded and he was smiling like a cat about to torment a mouse.

He turned to talk to someone outside, then began moving forward. ‘I know you’re there, Phoebe,’ he called.

She didn’t answer.

‘There’s nowhere to hide. Took me a while to find you, but I never give up when I want something. Never. And you can’t get out of here till I unlock the door.’

She looked round but couldn’t see anything she could use to defend herself with, and there was certainly nowhere to hide properly, though she could and did duck down behind some of the packing cases.

He began to walk towards her. ‘You may as well give in. After all, I’m going to marry you, aren’t I? And I’ll keep you in comfort. So it won’t be a bad life.’

She called, ‘I won’t marry you, Frank, whatever you do.’ She immediately regretted that and moved across to another position, in case he could trace where her voice had come from.

He glowered in her direction. ‘Why won’t you? You always told Ma you wanted children, and for that, a decent woman like you needs a husband.’

Perhaps if she told him about Corin? ‘And I’ve found one.’

‘
You’re married?
’

‘No. But I’m going to be.’

‘If you value his life, you won’t do it.’

‘He won’t need me to defend him. He’s a trained soldier.’

‘That lanky idiot who interfered in Swindon?’

She didn’t answer that.

‘It is him, isn’t it? I knew it. Where is he now, then? Gone
off to London.
He
won’t be able to save you tonight, will he?’

She stared in surprise. Was there nothing Frank hadn’t found out? ‘He’ll be back.’

‘He may come back, but he won’t find you in the same state as he left you, and believe me, a gentleman like him won’t want soiled goods. Why, if we’re lucky, you’ll be carrying my child by then.’

‘I still wouldn’t marry you.’

She’d been moving here and there, to keep out of sight, but he lunged in her direction. She dodged back out of reach, then found herself penned between two stone tombs.

He lunged again, nearly close enough to grab her. This time when she jerked backwards, she bumped into the wall.

He had her trapped in the corner. There was no way of escaping him now. But she’d fight him every inch of the way.

And she would never, ever marry him, whatever he did to her.

Matron looked at her fob watch. Phoebe was late getting back from her break, which wasn’t like her. Poor girl. She’d fallen hard for Major McMinty and he seemed equally taken by her.

What was keeping them apart? In times like these you had to seize the moment, and as far as Matron could tell, the major wasn’t short of money, so could easily have got married.

As the minutes passed, she began to feel irritated. Drat the girl! Where was she? She was needed here. Footsteps came towards the door of her office. Ah! That’d be her.

But the footsteps went past and vanished into the distance.

She’d give Phoebe another ten minutes then she’d go looking for her. She’d seen which way the girl went after she left the old part of the house carrying a key so large you couldn’t miss it.

There was only one place that path led to, only one place down there that needed unlocking.

That morning, Harriet began to feel uneasy and to worry about Phoebe. She couldn’t work out what had caused this, but she had a strong urge to get back to Greyladies.

She went to find Joseph. ‘Could we set off earlier than planned, love? I think there’s trouble at Greyladies.’

He nodded. He knew she wouldn’t ask him unless it was urgent. ‘I’ll send for the boys and we’ll set off as soon as everything is packed.’

‘Thank you. I’ll be fifteen minutes at most.’ She finished packing their things any old how, without bothering to fold her clothes, let alone put tissue paper between the layers. After that, she went into the boys’ room and flung everything into their suitcase.

When she went downstairs, Joseph was speaking to his mother, who looked up at Harriet, head on one side.

She answered the unspoken question. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, Mrs Dalton. I just know something is wrong.’

‘But you’ll come back soon?’

‘Yes, of course we will. And it’ll be to stay.’

She gave her daughter-in-law a surprised look. ‘Who’d have thought
you
would become Mistress of Dalton House?’

Harriet stiffened, expecting criticism and offers to guide her in her new role. She’d listen to advice, of course she would, but she had her own ideas of how she wanted to run
the big house and make use of it for more than mere show. Neither she nor Joseph had ambitions to take their place in county society.

But her mother-in-law surprised her. ‘You’ll fill your new role well, Harriet. You’ve the modern understanding. And I, too, thank you for giving up Greyladies.’

Harriet walked across to give her a genuine hug, feeling better accepted now, relieved about that. The last thing she wanted was to be at odds with Joseph’s mother, especially in such a tragic time. ‘I shall need to ask your advice, I’m sure.’

‘No. Don’t. Well, only about details. I’m the past and you’re the future. I shall go back to live in my flat in London. I’ve made a life there, with nothing to remind me of … times past and people lost.’

She gave Harriet a little push. ‘Well, hurry up. Get away with you. Something must be very wrong at Greyladies to make you look like that.’

Corin was called into David Brookes’ office for a second time since his arrival in London. He found an elderly gentleman sitting there with David, wrinkled hands resting on an elaborately carved walking stick.

‘This is Herr Schreiber, who has kindly shared some important information with us. He’s very tired of moving from one place to another, so I’ve promised him you’ll take him down to Greyladies and settle him in there.’

Corin opened his mouth to protest that he’d only just left the place, but closed it again. If David felt this gentleman deserved an escort and a place in the special internment centre, then he would take the old man there.

‘Herr Schreiber’s wife and daughter will be joining him as
soon as you can arrange it. He’ll give you their address and we’d like you to fetch them.’

‘Very well.’

‘I’ve arranged a car and driver for you.’

‘When do you want us to set off?’

‘The sooner the better,’ the old gentleman said in near faultless English. ‘I’m weary of moving from one place to another, and am looking forward to spending time in peaceful surroundings in the country, as Mr Brookes has kindly promised.’

‘Greyladies is certainly peaceful,’ Corin agreed. ‘I’ll just go and pack a few things.’

David cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think that’s necessary, Major. I know it’s quite late already, but I’d be grateful if you’d come straight back. We have a few little matters about to come to the boil here.’

Corin didn’t allow himself even one sigh, but decided he was going to have a word with Phoebe while he was there, however late it was. He needed to tell her that he loved her, wanted to marry her, didn’t care where they lived. He’d been stupid not to do it before he left. ‘Very well, sir. If you’ll come this way, Herr Schreiber?’