The Ghost of Christmas Past (11 page)

“Shh,
my child.”

“Father,”
she said quietly, “I am sorry if I have brought shame on you, but I love him.”

“I
could never be ashamed of you, Lizzie.”

“Everyone
else will think...” But what did it matter? Liam was being taken away, where no
doubt he would be executed. The thought was like a thousand knives, stabbing
her.

“Let
them think what they will,” said Reverend Dearheart. “Love does not always send
us the people that society thinks are right for us, but let society worry about
its own affairs. We will do what we can for Liam, to make his last days as
peaceful as possible.”

“Oh
no...” At that, Elizabeth lost all control and sobbed into her father’s
shoulder.

As
the constable and his men left with Liam, slamming the front door behind them, Elizabeth
instinctively looked up into the minstrel's gallery. The man who had been
sitting there had disappeared.

Chapter
Eight

The
assembled townspeople burst into a rhapsody of gossip as soon as the constable
and his men took Liam away.

Lady
Clarissa, ignoring some stern words from her step-mother, crossed the room to
Elizabeth and Amelia Wheston. “Be of good cheer,” she said. “Help is at hand.”

“What
help could there be?” asked Amelia. Her husband still held her in his arms.
“Liam is doomed.”

“I
cannot say yet as it would put someone I ... someone who is important to me in
danger. But we will help to free your brother, that I promise, Mrs. Wheston.”
Although she addressed Amelia Wheston, Lady Clarissa’s eyes fell upon Elizabeth
with a depth of understanding that made Elizabeth feel that they were kindred
spirits. “I know what it is to love a condemned man. Please, rest tonight and
be assured that you have friends.” With that Lady Clarissa climbed the
staircase to the upper level and disappeared into the shadows.

“Come,”
said the Reverend. “Whilst Lady Clarissa’s offer of help has strong
foundations, we will repair to the vicarage and find out what we can do for
those we love.”

“He
will need a good lawyer,” said Amelia. She turned to Elizabeth. “You must
believe that he is the kindest, gentlest of men. He is not a killer.”

“But
he's the Demon Doctor of Delhi,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks, who had dashed across
the room several minutes earlier to hear what the constable had to say.

“He
is not a demon!” Amelia's eyes blazed. “Oh I hate journalists, and all the
dreadful things they make up about people.” She burst into tears, and was once
again comforted by her husband.

“My
wife speaks the truth,” said Doctor Wheston. “I taught Liam in medical school.
He is no monster. He has dedicated his career to saving lives, not taking
them.”

The
sisters had the grace to look chastened. “I am sure he seems like a very good
man,” said Miss Graves. “In fact I was only saying to my dear sister yesterday
that it was pleasant to have such a handsome young man in the district.”

“Certainly,”
said Mrs. Chatterbucks. Elizabeth understood that Amelia's tears showed them a
different side to the sensational stories they read in the papers. Here was
real human suffering, from the family of a man unjustly condemned.

#

It
was very early on Christmas Day morning when Elizabeth visited Liam at the
gaol. She had barely slept. She, her father and the Whestons had talked late
into the nigh t about what steps could be taken to help Liam.

All
Elizabeth’s misgivings about his marital status had, for the moment,
disappeared. All she cared about was saving his life. What happened afterwards
was left to fate. Taking a plate of warm bacon and bread, and a mug of coffee
to the gaol, she told herself that it was only Christian charity, when in her
heart she knew that she could not leave him alone on Christmas morning, feeling
that he had no friends. Not that Amelia and John Wheston didn’t show the same
concern, but by the time they said goodnight, Amelia was clearly exhausted by
her emotions. Elizabeth realised that she had only been dealing with the horror
of Liam’s predicament for one night and that was bad enough. Amelia must have
spent months in abject despair at the thought of her brother’s imminent
execution, and then suffered even more stress when he escaped, not knowing if
he had made it to safety until he arrived in Midchester. No wonder she had run
out to embrace him on the night they returned from Lady Bedlington’s. Even
though she had seen him when he arrived, she must have felt a sense of relief
every time Liam returned safely to her house over the following days. 

The
gaol was a small hut-like building attached to the constable's cottage. Luckily
for Elizabeth Constable Hounds and his wife were already awake. “I've brought
Doctor Doubleday … I mean Doctor Bradbourne, some food,” she explained.

“Oh,
there was no need, Miss Dearheart,” said the constable's wife, Kitty. “I've
made bread for him, and coffee. But I'll not say he won't be glad of some bacon
too. He's a nice young man.”

“He's
a convicted murderer,” said Constable Hounds. But there was something in his
voice. Some element of doubt. “Not that he seems like one. Very gentleman-like,
he is. But it could be an act, so mind yourself, Miss Dearheart.”

“May
I see him?” asked Elizabeth. “My father will be along after the morning
service.”

“For
a few minutes. They're coming to fetch him later on this morning, to take him
to a bigger gaol. Where...” As if realising he touching on painful territory,
the constable clamped his mouth shut.

He
led her through the back room, to a small door which led into the gaol. It was
of solid wood, with bars at the top. The constable unlocked the door, and
murmured, “I'll be standing by in case of trouble.” He took position outside
the door, leaving it slightly ajar.

“Elizabeth...”
Liam's voice was full of despair when he saw her. “You shouldn't have come
here, my love.” He had been sitting on the truckle bed, but stood up when he
saw her. In this tiny room he looked even larger than ever. His deep set eyes
were lined with dark circles.

“I
had to see you,” she whispered. “I need to know the truth. Did you kill him?”

“No!”
Liam sat back down and put his head in his hands. “I am not a killer,
Elizabeth, I swear it.” Elizabeth put the food down on the floor and sat on a
rickety chair next to the bed.  “I have no need to take my patient’s money. Our
family are rich in our own right. Only my wife had other ideas.”

“Tell
me what happened, Liam.”

He
looked up at her. “It took this for you to call me by my first name?”

Elizabeth
blushed. “It is one way of breaking the ice, I suppose. Did you love her very
much?” It was strange how the answer to that question was more important to her
than the tragic death of an innocent man. She was a humane enough girl to feel
shame at her own selfishness.

“I
thought I did at first. Clara brought out the protective instincts in me. She
arrived in Delhi just over a year ago, a frail, helpless creature. She told me,
and others, that she had fled her brother, who controlled her whole life, and
was often abusive to her. Then one night she arrived at my house, with a bruise
on her cheek. She said that her brother had found her and that he was trying to
force her into marriage with an elderly man. So I offered to marry her, to save
her from it. At least, I thought I had offered at the time. Now, when I look
back on it, I can see that she led me to that conclusion. She had said
something about 'of course, if were already married'. Don't you see how it was?
She was a woman in trouble, and I felt I had to help her escape her cruel
brother.”

“Yes,
I understand,” said Elizabeth. She could almost see the scene as Liam described
it. The stricken woman and the kind man whose very vocation led him to protect
and nurture.

“It
was not a marriage in the true sense of the word.” Liam seemed to hesitate.
“What I mean is that I did not insist on the rights of a husband, and she
seemed relieved that I left her in peace. I had not saved her from one awful
marriage to inflict anything upon her that would make her happy.” He paused.
“And I don’t say this to deceive you. There have been women in my life.
Discreet affairs. I am no saint.”

“I
understand,” said Elizabeth. For some reason it made her feel happy to know he
had not made love to his wife, even though there was no moral reason why he
should not, and probably a dozen moral reasons why he should not have had
lovers before his marriage, if one followed the teachings of the Bible. But
Elizabeth’s own sexual awakening, and the longing she felt for him, had taught
her that what one should do, and what the body told one to do, were quite
different things. Plus, it was implausible that a man of Liam’s age and latent
sensuality could have spent his adult life as a celibate.

“Then
a colleague approached me one day, another doctor. He warned me away from
Clara. She had visited his wife, and told her that I had behaved in an abusive
manner towards her. She apparently showed this good woman a bruise on her arm,
which she said I inflicted upon her. You can only imagine what they thought of
me. I swear, Elizabeth, I have never struck a woman in my life. I would never
behave that way.”

“I
believe you. Did you ask her about it? Clara, I mean.”

“Yes,
I confronted her that evening at dinner. I tried to make it seem that the lady
had misunderstood her, so as not to apportion blame. She left the room in
tears, refusing to discuss it. That was the last time I saw her. The following
morning she had gone, along with all her clothes, and at the same time my
patient was found dead. Then the police in Delhi received an anonymous note saying
that I had murdered the patient. He had died of an overdose of morphine. It was
from an ampoule I had signed for at a local apothecary. They found a scrap of
paper in my study that they say proved I had been practising how to forge his
signature. Then the other doctor's wife came forward with what she knew, about
my supposed brutality, which added to the hysteria surrounding it all. It was only
then I found that Clara had been telling everyone that I mistreated her. The
evidence, as far as the police were concerned, was overwhelming. I was not only
a murderer, but a wife beater too. I was tried and convicted. But by that time
the friend who had first come to me with his concerns had second thoughts about
it all, despite his wife’s hysteria. So he helped me to escape. I came here, to
look for my sister. To let her know I was safe.” He took a deep breath. “This
has been dreadful for her, and for John. She has maintained my innocence all
along. She knows me, and she knows I am not a killer.”

“How
old was Clara?” asked Elizabeth.

“She
was thirty-two when we met.” Liam frowned. “What has that got to do with
anything?”

Elizabeth
told him about the two Lucindas. Lucinda Hargreaves, who had disappeared after
murdering her husband, and the Lucinda who had married Albert Sanderson. “I am
just trying to ascertain whether there was one Lucinda or two. And also whether
your wife Clara is the same person as Prudence Rivers. I think it's a plot, you
see.” Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried to order her own thoughts before
explaining her suspicions to Liam. “The first Lucinda Hargreaves was the mother
of two children who fled Midchester. She murdered her husband. When it was too
late, she might have realized there were other ways. What if either she, or a
different Lucinda – her daughter perhaps – decided that rather than bring
suspicion upon herself, she would frame someone else for it?  Then once the
husband had been executed, all she had to do was return and claim his fortune.
So she would benefit twice from the crime. Once from embezzling the money off
the first victim, and then from the executed husband. She probably hoped the
same would happen to Albert Sanderson, but he was mentally ill, so could not be
sent for trial. Are you … are you very rich, Liam?”

“Our
family owns many properties in Ireland. Not to mention what I've earned as a
doctor. It has left both Amelia and myself with a more than generous annuity. The
problem with an annuity, Elizabeth, is that it would rely on the bank and
solicitors knowing where the person who inherited lives. I can't see that your
Lucinda or Prudence or Clara would risk that. It would be something to tie her
to each executed husband.”

“Unless,”
said Elizabeth, thinking hard. “Unless she was able to persuade the family who
should have inherited that she would go away and forget about it. In return for
a lump sum.”

“That's
what happened in the Rivers case,” said Constable Hounds, causing both
Elizabeth and Liam to jump. They had forgotten he was there. “A friend from
their village told me about it. The young lady agreed to a cash sum of two
hundred pounds to go away and make no further claims on the estate. I gather
the Rivers family had to sell some stock in order to make up the amount, but it
meant the annuity went to Bertram Rivers' nephew, which was the original
intention.”

“Constable
Hounds, please help us,” said Elizabeth, standing up. “You know this is an
injustice, don't you? Couldn't you let Doctor Bradbourne go for now, so we can
look into this together?”