Murder on the Cliffs (22 page)

I wanted to tell him then; I wanted to tell him about the diary.

His head hovered dangerously close to mine. “Do you believe me, Daphne? I have to know.”

“Yes, I believe you,” I murmured, closing my eyes as his hand reached out to cup my face.

I should have stopped him. I knew I should, but I let him explore my face, I let his fingers caress the length of my arm. Keeping my eyes shut, I let him kiss me again, a kiss so sweet and full of longing, I wanted it to go on forever.

Pulling away, I endeavored to find sanctuary in another part of the garden. My face still hot and flushed, I prayed for cool air to cool my emotions and my head. Perhaps to assist my plight and realizing he’d overstepped his own boundary, he began speaking of the next renovations to take place at the house. Leaving the garden, I nodded, scarcely listening to his plans for the tower.

“Did you show her? Did you show her the secret garden, Davie?”

I breathed a long sigh of inward relief as I watched Lianne chasing Jasper up the terrace steps.

“What did you think of it?”

Swirling around us both, Lianne’s faith in me as her confidante and friend caused a sickness in my stomach. I felt sick, sick that I suspected her. How did she get the poison, though? Did she do it at her mother’s direction?

The puffer. The puffer had all the answers. Oh, why, oh, why had I entrusted the perfume puffer to the major?

“I’m hungry.” Lianne still skipped around us, merrily playing with Jasper. “Daphne can stay for lunch, can’t she, Davie?”

Lord David cleared his throat. “Of course she may, if she wants to.” Catching his sister by her waist, he smiled as she giggled. “How are you feeling now, Lee?” He pinched her nose. “No more nightmares?”

“No more nightmares,” she replied, giving him a fierce hug before skipping off to lunch.

“I really should go,” I began, “Ewe might be expecting me, and I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Lord David dismissed, frowning down at his riding coat. “I might change for luncheon. You know your way to the Green Salon, don’t you?”

“That’s unfair,” I smiled. “You get to change whereas I do not. My mother would be horrified at my showing up at a grand house dressed like this.”

He observed me with admiring eyes, looking over the full length of me. “I think you look fine.”

But not beautiful like Victoria, I quibbled as we parted ways. How did he feel now that her room had been cleared out? Did he feel pain? Or relief?

“Thank goodness,” Lady Hartley breathed upon seeing me arrive at the Green Salon. “My son has been rather testy of late. I didn’t want to endure another
lecture
. . . . What is it, Trehearn?”

“You have a visitor, your ladyship.”

I turned around to view her face, searching for clues. Mrs. Trehearn would have organized the clearing out of Victoria’s room. Did she know I’d taken the perfume puffer, and the beads? How good a house keeper was she? A bad one, I hoped, swallowing uneasily.

“A visitor!” Lady Hartley cried, inspecting the card. “Major Thomas Browning . . . don’t believe I know him.”

“Oh, I do!” Lianne snapped up the card. “Bid him entry, Trehearn, and if he hasn’t lunched, set another place, please.”

Astounded by her behavior, evidence of her infatuation for him, I answered all of Lady Hartley’s questions. When and where we had met this Major Browning and what we knew of him. Exhibiting an interest in his possible connections, she stood when he arrived.

“Major Browning. You are very welcome.”

Mrs. Trehearn, the efficient shadow, set another place for our guest and he joined us at the table. I lowered my head, my face blazing at his impudence. Why call at the house so early after an acquaintance, especially when it was to visit the family he warned me about?

“I just
had
to see your home.” He charmed Lady Hartley with a smile. “Your daughter’s description of its interior left me unable to put it off for another moment.”

“I’m glad you came,” Lady Hartley sprang to attention, examining his handsome face and correct attire. “We have so few visitors here. You’ve met Miss du Maurier, of course? Her father is very famous.”

“Yes.” The major’s gaze sought mine. “And I had hoped to meet Lord David.”

“My son will be along shortly.”

“Then I am fortunate to have you three ladies to myself for a while.”

I coughed, and the major leapt up to pour me a glass of water. Seeing him relax there on the settee opposite Lady Hartley, sipping his cider and chatting about this and that, I could have killed him. How dare he? What were his intentions? To befriend the family or to convict them? He certainly hadn’t come here to see me, but at the first opportunity to whisper to me, he did so.

“I have news.” His coarse whisper scathed my ear. “News . . . on our little experiment.”

“Oh.”

At that moment Lord David entered the room, and I moved toward the dinner table. Following suit, the major remarked upon the fine linen.

“Fine linen, sir?” I asked incredulously.

“David darling, Major Browning is visiting the area,” Lady Hartley interrupted for introductions.

The men shook hands, Lord David wary, the major eager.

“The historical allure brought me here,” the major teased to ease Lord David’s mistrust. “The abbey treasure is a great one to guard, my lord.”

Lord David did not register the joke.

“No, I come down every year to visit my uncle.”

“Then you should have visited us before. Indeed, I had no
idea
someone of your quality frequented Windemere. Who is your uncle?”

“A lonely old fisherman. He lives in a . . . well, I’d say a
hut
on a hill not far from Castle Mor.”

“Interesting,” Lady Hartley beamed, and Lianne beamed with her. “You are always very welcome at Padthaway, Major.”

His eyes shimmered toward me. “Thank you, my lady.”

Reaching for my seat, I coughed, quickly reaching for my water glass. The major immediately expressed concern. I didn’t want him acting so friendly to me in the presence of Lord David. I looked up at Lord David. He lifted a brow in query.

“I met the Major at Ewe’s,” I said. “Miss Perony, Major, have you seen her lately? You got along
so well
at Ewe’s, I thought . . .”

“Miss Perony!” Lianne giggled. “She’s old and ugly.”

“Not ugly,
plain,
” her mother corrected, smiling sweetly and preening for the major.

I nearly choked on my food. Lady Hartley left the major in no doubt of her interest in him. A replacement for Soames, I wondered?

The major stayed for afternoon tea, too.

“Intriguing courtyard,” he remarked, as Lady Hartley linked her arm through his to show him the room. “I am very curious about those Chinese vases. . . .”

Chinese vases! No, he was curious,
too
curious, about this entire case. Did he have a professional interest in it? Or was his interest purely ordinary, like Ewe Sinclaire and the rest of us?

Lianne rushed to escort the major to the Chinese vases, pointing out other various items and their history amongst smiles and the occasional flirtatious giggles. Sickened by the scene, I couldn’t wait for the whole affair to end.

It did, at the major’s leisure I might add. He offered to drive me home and I had no choice but to go with him as I failed to think of an excuse quick enough. Walking home wasn’t an option for it was raining and David retained his polite coolness in his farewells. Lady Hartley had been extremely warm, pressing the major’s hand and inviting both of us for dinner the next evening, and Lianne curtsied and smiled.

“She’s still waving,” the major said as we motored down the drive.

I glanced back. “Why did you go there? You’re no friend to them.”

“Nor are you, submitting a private diary as evidence.”

My mouth went agape. “How do you know about it? Why does Sir Edward talk to you and not me?”

“Because I called upon him with the results to the perfume puffer. He’s running another test now . . . to be sure, but one thing you can be sure of, events are going to unfold rather rapidly now.”

I sat in the car, frozen. I felt cold and guilty. I’d betrayed my friends and I felt especially guilty after Lord David and I kissed in the secret garden. “Events? Because of the puffer? What do you mean?”

Opening the door for me, he grinned. “You will see. No umbrella. You better run. I will pick you up tomorrow at six.”

“She’ll have her eye on him,” Ewe predicted the next day. “Lady Hartley. Swappin’ the peacock for the eagle.”

“Who’s the peacock?”

“Your Mr. Soames ye fancy is related in some way to Vicky.”

Working outside in the garden was just the break I needed.

Ewe paused. “Ye never know. Ye may be right. Now I think of it, his face did look rather pinched at the funeral.” She paused to instruct me on how to trim one of her precious hedges. “So the major’s involved himself, too, has he? You watch. There’ll be an arrest soon. Oh, how I wish I’d seen that diary! Must have been
ripe
with secrets.”

“I hate to disappoint you but it wasn’t what I expected. Those London visits . . . who could she be going to see?”

“It’s Lady Hartley who did it,” Ewe proclaimed, her eyes squinting into the distance. “Is that Connan Bastion I see on his bicycle?”

I peered into the distance. “I think it is.” I got up quickly to brush my skirt. “I’ll go see him.”

“You’d better tell
him
about the diary,” Ewe advised.

“I didn’t want to say anything at first,” I started, explaining how the diary and the perfume puffer came into my hands as he approached. “Sir Edward has them now and the major says there’ll be an arrest soon.”

Relief, grateful relief, washed over his face. “Ma will be pleased. Is it . . . will they do it?”

“Do what?”

“Arrest the Hartleys. I mean, they are the
rich
that get away with everythin’.”

“Not murdering your sister.” I pressed his hand.

He still did not believe me. “They’ll pay the judge off. They’ll get away with it.”

“No, they won’t, Connan. They can pay to have the best lawyer, but if the evidence is enough, your sister’s killer will be brought to justice.”

His violet eyes studied my face. “Miss Daphne, this is all your doin’. It’d never’ve happened if you hadn’t come here.”

I suppose it might not have, I congratulated myself. The beads still remained a mystery, though, so I asked Connan if he knew an MSR. He said no, but he had remembered something about the London visits. “She had trouble with a bloke. She said she were scared of him. Tryin’ to bribe her. She was worried about losin’ Lord David.” Hitting his head with his fist, he breathed out a long grieving sigh. “And I’m the idiot! Puttin’ pressure on her to pay off me debts when she—”

“Had someone else to contend with? Someone sinister?”

“Yeah. S’pose that’s it.”

“Do you know where she went? Or where she met this person? Did she mention a name at all?
Think,
Connan. Think back to every word she said. She must have been upset.”

“She were angry at me . . . and at him. No, she were angry at all of us, for not believin’ her,” he said. “Don’t know what she meant by that.”

“I think I do, but the London visits are important.”

“I might be wrong,” he said eventually, “but I think she might of said somethin’ like Crow or Crowleys through it all.

“Thank you, Connan.”

He cycled away and I resumed trimming the hedge. The action of cutting and snipping reminded me of Mrs. Trehearn. “The poison must have been in the house,” I said to Ewe. “Mrs. Trehearn is lying to protect Lady Hartley. I wonder if Sir Edward now suspects her. . . .”

“Daphne!”

Lianne leaned over the fence. “I’ve come to get you.”

“Now? For dinner? It’s too early and the major’s picking me up.”

“But Mummy and I’ve got a surprise for you. The car’s here now. Can she come now, Mrs. Ewe?”

Arching her brows, Ewe lifted her arms. “Ain’t up to me, petal.”

“Oh, please, Daphne, please. Mother expects you.”

But I did not live under Lady Hartley’s dominion, did I? For Li-anne’s sake, I went, though it was against my better judgment. I suspected Lianne’s motives were vested in her feelings for the major.

My suspicions increased when her mischievous smile continued to Lady Hartley’s room. Pacing along the open windows in her splendid room, her beribboned robe trailing behind her, she looked magnificent. A magnificent murderess, cool and unaffected by Victoria’s brief intrusion into her world.

“Ah! I have a present for both of you. For to night’s gala, ladies, we must look our best. It appears Victoria had ordered two dresses as part of her wedding trousseau and instead of sending them back to the dressmaker, I decided to keep them. Jenny will make the appropriate adjustments— she can sew, you know.”

I opened my mouth, horrified at the idea of wearing something of Victoria’s. “Lady Florence, it’s very kind of you, but I must—”

“No, you shall not, Daphne. I insist upon it, and if you are worried about my son, you needn’t be. He knew nothing about these dresses and I thought the lavender would suit you very well.”

Lavender.
Should I wear Victoria’s lavender beads, too, my lady?
I thought to ask.

“Lianne . . . for you, the green.” Tossing the dress to her daughter, she added, “See that Jenny adds a piece of lace to the top. It’s far too low for a girl of your age.”

The lavender dress, still wrapped in tissue paper, lay on my lap. Having no choice but to open it now, I did so, loving the feel of the soft satin.

“It shimmers like the moon,” Lady Hartley grinned, “and you may borrow my amethyst set for the night.” Raiding her dresser, she placed the box on my lap, too. “Now, off to Jenny, both of you.”

Thus dismissed, Lianne and I carried our respective treasures to Jenny. “How do you feel about it?” I asked Lianne on the way.

“Weird” was her reply.

“Me, too. I don’t think I can—”

“She’ll be angry if you don’t. Best we please Mother.”