The Lovegrove Hermit (9 page)

Elinor did indeed play for us that evening but not before I heard a brief exchange in undertones between Rowland and her.

‘You go too far,’ she hissed. ‘Take care what you say or you’ll regret it.’

‘So would you!’

‘Would I? I don’t really care any more and I’m leaving here soon anyway.’

Rowland looked decidedly uneasy.

‘D’you think she’ll be fit to travel if we leave the day after tomorrow?’ whispered George, who as usual, now, was sitting beside me on the sofa. I still had no idea why he had broken off with Mrs Thorpe. On the only occasion I had been able to speak to him alone he said he didn’t wish to talk about it as the subject was too painful, and he was having second thoughts about telling me something so disgusting. Naturally I was even more curious.

‘I’m sure Elinor is longing to escape from here,’ I said. ‘Sophie wants to go home and I know you are desperate to get away.’

‘So are you, I’m sure.’

I did not answer. True, I longed to leave Lovegrove and its unattractive residents but there was one person I feared I might never see again. George noticed my reluctance.

‘Don’t tell me you like it here? It was all very fine at first but things have not turned out well and there is no longer anything to keep us.’

‘True,’ I said, ‘we really must go.’

Elinor had been playing some rather slow, melancholy piece. It sounded like something from a requiem mass.

‘Oh,
do
play something more cheerful, Elinor,’ cried Lady Denby, interrupting her performance. ‘That’s far too gloomy. You are making us all depressed – yourself included. Find something light and cheerful to entertain us.’

‘You’ll find some of my French songs there,’ suggested Louisa Thorpe, ‘and if you play one or two of those and I sing, I guarantee I can lift everyone’s spirits.’

In response Elinor slammed the piano shut and ran from the room.

‘Well, really!’ exclaimed Lady Denby. ‘What can have
provoked
that outburst?’

‘That girl has a temper – it needs dealing with,’ observed Mrs Thorpe.

‘Double double, toil and trouble,’ muttered George. ‘What a pair of witches! I feel sorry for that poor girl. She’ll be better off with us.’

But matters took an unexpected turn. Next morning Elinor was missing.

It was Elinor’s maid who reported that her mistress was not in her room when she went to wake her in the morning. As her bed had been slept in, it was concluded that she had gone out very early. She had not taken anything with her in the way of luggage but, judging from clothes that were missing, had just put on a dress, bonnet, and shawl as she would for any day’s outing.

‘No, the young lady wasn’t carrying anything,’ said one of the gardeners who had seen her leave, ‘only one of those little reticule things. I thought it was strange as it was early so I went over and asked if there was anything I could help her with. “No, thank you,” she said, “I’m just going out for a few hours!”’

A similar report was given by the lodge-keeper who found the bell being rung at half past six by Miss Denby wanting the gate opened. He had also found it odd that the young lady was going out on her own at such an hour but ‘the gentry sometimes did eccentric things.’

‘Idiots!’ cried Lady Denby. ‘Why didn’t they stop her or at least come straight to us and tell us?’

The house was soon in uproar. Sir Ralph sent two
menservants out to look for his errant daughter and then, on a hint that she had started to walk to Ashdale and had then been picked up by the carrier’s cart, he drove out in the same direction in the gig.

All was to no avail. On reaching the town Elinor seemed to have vanished. It was market day and the streets were crowded. She was a small, inconspicuous figure, plainly dressed, and no one remembered having seen her. I might perhaps have provided a sketch but Sir Ralph took off in a great hurry despite his wife’s assurances that Elinor would be perfectly all right and if she wasn’t she would have brought it on herself. Sir Ralph, however, was haunted by all the imagined horrors that could befall an innocent girl in an English country town on market day.

I was anxious about Elinor but not greatly perturbed. I was more concerned about her state of mind than about the possibilities of abduction, assault and murder. Several more servants were despatched after Sir Ralph to help him in his search and the house was left in chaos. The family and guests were dispersed, most of them trying to avoid Lady Denby. Luncheon consisted of a cold collation set out in the dining room for everyone to help himself. It was then I saw George.

‘Where have you been?’ I asked. ‘I’ve looked everywhere for you. What are we to do about leaving tomorrow if Elinor has disappeared? We can’t very well go without her.’

‘I know,’ he said gloomily, ‘I’ve sent someone into Ashdale to cancel the post-chaise. I sometimes think we are doomed to stay on here.’

‘Doomed?’ cried a throaty female voice. ‘Oh come, Mr Tyler, surely it isn’t as bad as that.’

He scarcely suppressed a groan.

‘Anyone would think you’ve been avoiding me,’ she continued, tapping him playfully on the shoulder with her fan. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to escape from
me
!’

She sat down beside him and at once he pushed his plate away, excused himself and left the room.

‘Whatever is the matter with your brother?’ she asked me. ‘He’s been trying to avoid me for the last few days. I don’t know what I’ve said or done to upset him.’

‘Neither do I,’ I told her. ‘Whatever it is, he hasn’t confided in me.’

‘So there
is
something. I thought so! I must have a word with him privately.’

‘Are you sure that would be wise? George can be very stubborn at times. Once he has made up his mind nothing can make him budge.’

‘I can but try. I can usually cajole any man out of a fit of the sulks and I’m sure that’s all it is. But are you all
determined
on leaving tomorrow?’

‘That is certainly what we planned but Elinor’s
disappearance
has made our arrangements very uncertain. We have postponed our departure.’

She seemed delighted. ‘Oh, I am so glad. This house will seem so lifeless without you all, especially since this
disagreeable
business of the suicide – to say nothing of that silly girl’s behaviour. What can she be thinking of?’

‘She is very unhappy.’

‘Really? I can’t think why; a lovely ancient house to live in, a rich indulgent father, a literary genius for a stepmother – what more could she possibly want?’

‘Some affection and consideration perhaps.’

‘I’d have said she was overindulged but then, I am
probably
a better judge of character than you as I’ve had more experience of life.’

‘Of course,’ I said, ‘you have known the tragedy of losing a dearly loved husband.’

She gave me a hard look. It was no secret that Mr Thorpe had been a mean-spirited, tight-fisted old man and the
marriage
had not been happy.

‘Ah, poor Thorpe!’ she sighed, deciding to take my remark at face value. ‘And I am reduced to life in a cottage after being the mistress of a fine house.’

‘There you are, Louisa!’ Lady Denby sailed into the room like a ship with pennons streaming. ‘Everyone seems to have disappeared. I’m becoming so concerned about Sir Ralph. He went charging off in such an agitated state. The doctor has warned him about this sort of thing but he won’t listen. I’m sure we should have heard something by now. And where is Rowland? He’s never here when I want him.’

‘I expect he’s gone off in search of Elinor,’ I said.

‘I can’t think why – there are plenty of other people to do that. Whose plate is that?’ She surveyed George’s untouched luncheon.

‘My brother’s. I don’t know where he went.’

‘I frightened him away,’ cried Louisa gaily.

‘It must’ve been something fearsome for him to leave his food,’ observed her friend. ‘He must be hungry. I certainly am – at least, I would be if I wasn’t so beset by anxiety. I doubt if I can manage more than a couple of mouthfuls.’

I watched as she helped herself to several thick slices of ham and cold beef and a large portion of pork pie. The
dining-room
clock chimed one. Elinor had been gone for six and a
half hours.

An hour later Sir Ralph returned looking ashen-faced and decidedly ill. He declared his search had proved fruitless. ‘I couldn’t go on,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve had such pains.’

‘Pains?’ cried Lady Denby. ‘Where are the pains?’

He confessed that they were in the region of his heart, at which his wife insisted that he should go to bed immediately – helped by two of the remaining servants. She then sent an urgent message to Dr Stringer.

‘I’ll be all right,’ he groaned, ‘if only Elinor would come back.’

‘If and when she does I’ll give her a dressing-down she’ll never forget. That wicked girl! She is responsible for this! She could kill her own father with her stupid, selfish behaviour!’

Sir Ralph did not seem greatly cheered by this last
observation
but was quite willing to be put to bed to await the arrival of the doctor.

George, I discovered, had joined the flight to Ashdale ostensibly to help with the search for the missing girl, but also to escape the clutches of Mrs Thorpe and enjoy a steak at the Unicorn.

My only thought was to avoid the ‘pair of witches’ so I took myself out of doors to the front of the house so that I could watch for any arrivals. I took my sketchbook and
watercolours
and began to work on a painting of the priory ruins. Sophie followed me but then grew bored, complained of the heat and returned indoors, where, I heard later, she had gone up to explore the collection in the gallery with Frank Lawrence. Apparently they had spent an hilarious time opening cabinets and playing with the exhibits and trying on
bits of armour. I was rather concerned when I heard about it but Sophie assured me he had behaved very correctly. ‘He’s a great deal more fun than Rowland – he says the cleverest things!’

I reflected that it probably mattered little as we were soon to leave.

Back in the park I saw the doctor arrive and, about twenty minutes later, Colonel Hartley, accompanied by his manservant, Sam Bates. I at once hastened to tell them of the latest developments. The Colonel seemed concerned about Sir Ralph’s alarming symptoms.

‘Driving about in this heat consumed by anxiety is enough to try someone younger and less portly than Sir Ralph. I hope it doesn’t prove to be anything immediately dangerous.’

‘The doctor arrived a few minutes ago so we’re hoping for the best.’

‘I was expecting Sir Ralph to join us this afternoon. He gave us permission to conduct a little experiment. Come and watch.’

We walked around the house to the lake, where two men were already waiting in a boat.

‘Now we’re here and all prepared we may as well go ahead.’ The Colonel led the way to the end of the path from the hermitage. Then he signalled to the boat to come nearer.

‘Now, Bates, from here throw as far as you can.’

I had noticed Sam Bates was carrying a crude wooden box under his arm. He hurled it into the water, where it fell with a heavy splash.

‘Just the weight of a box of pistols. The water here is fairly shallow – it shelves down in a slope. I reckon it’s no more than five feet deep where the box fell. If anything else is
there it may be possible to find it.’

The boat came nearer and the men spent the next half hour with poles and nets, stirring up a great deal of mud. They fished out several bottles, an unrecognizable lump of metal, a bucket with no base and part of a broken hay-fork. Then they gave a shout of triumph.

‘I think that may be it!’ cried the Colonel. It was indeed the missing pistol box. Bates resourcefully produced a bit of old towel and dried it carefully. There it was, the battered mahogany box with the missing initial plate that I had seen in the hermit’s cell that day Sophie, Rowland and I had invaded his privacy. It was very like the replacement present when the body was discovered.

The Colonel produced the key and turned it in the lock. ‘It still works – but then, it hasn’t been in the water very long.’

Inside lay two officer’s pistols with all the usual
accoutrements
of powder flask, ramrod and various tools.

‘So now we know for sure,’ said Colonel Hartley, ‘I’m sending Bates here on a tour of gunsmiths’ shops armed with your sketches.’

‘Surely you don’t think anyone from the house was responsible?’

‘We don’t know, but we can at least eliminate any possible suspects.’

‘Like Lady Denby,’ I suggested, scarcely suppressing a giggle. ‘I can just imagine her in turban and flowing shawls creeping about in the night intent on felony.’

He laughed. ‘I think we can safely omit her from any investigations. But I am very pleased about our discovery this afternoon. I hardly dared hope we’d find anything. This is still no real proof in a court of law. Someone might suggest
that poor Rushworth had two sets of pistols and threw one away for some reason. We can’t prove there was a
substitution
, not unless Bates unearths something significant.’

‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

‘When have you ever done anything else?’

The Colonel paid the two Lovegrove retainers for their help – a task they seemed to have enjoyed – and the box was wrapped in a piece of sacking and given to Bates to take back to Shelbourne.

‘Go without me,’ he told the man. ‘I must call at the house and see how Sir Ralph is faring.’

We returned to the house together and entered by a side door. The doctor was just leaving, having bled Sir Ralph and administered a sleeping draught. Lady Denby was
hovering
over him, refusing to believe her husband was not near death.

‘I assure your ladyship that Sir Ralph is sleeping
peacefully
, as you have seen for yourself,’ Dr Stringer assured her. ‘His valet is sitting with him and there is no need for you to be there also. I see no cause for alarm if he is allowed to rest for a few days. Keep him on a light diet – no alcohol until I say so – and make sure he is free from anxiety as far as possible.’

‘That is highly unlikely at present.’

‘Well, don’t tell him anything alarming if you can help it. With any luck he’ll stay unconscious until morning, when I’ll call again. I’m afraid I must go now. Don’t despair, he’s very robust for his age. It’s a common enough complaint with men of his constitution.’

The doctor departed, pleading another patient in need of a visit.

Colonel Hartley paid his compliments, adding sympathy for all the troubles Lady Denby was undergoing that day, and then took his leave. He told her nothing of what had
transpired
that afternoon at the lake. I had an idea she would consider it a great deal of nonsense and a waste of time. I needed little persuasion to accompany the Colonel back to the gate. He collected his horse from the stables and walked beside me with the reins over his arm. We had not gone very far when we saw a carriage coming towards us. The occupants were Rowland, Elinor and a strange young woman with a baby in her arms. My brother rode alongside. All looked exceedingly grim except the stranger, who looked frightened.