The Villa of Death: A Mystery Featuring Daphne du Maurier (Daphne du Maurier Mysteries) (22 page)

My mouth raced to say yes; I wanted to burst out with joy and tears, so happy those words made me, I knew I’d cherish them forever. It was a beautiful proposal, perfected when he slid down to one knee and searched my face, waiting, willing my acceptance.

Staring into his eyes, and showing a faint uncertainty there by my silence, I caressed his hand with my hands before jumping into his arms.

“I take it that’s a yes then.” My father chuckled, adding caution by shaking his head and looking for a cigar. “We had better post the engagement in the paper to stop these wagging tongues. Your mother will be pleased. Why don’t you go and tell her the news, Daphne? I promise I won’t monopolize your major.”

My major.

How well that sounded.
“Lady Daphne Browning,” I murmured, preparing to announce my engagement to the world.

As expected, I whispered the news to my mother and she announced it. Acute relief, I thought, rather than natural elation.

“How fantastic,” Megan gushed, embracing me hard. “Engaged in the same year! When is your wedding?”

“Not for some time,” my mother answered, and my sisters came to congratulate me.

Inspecting my hand, Angela gave me a sly smile. “No ring? Does he need to get it back from Lady Lara?”

“Don’t bother about her,” Jeanne put in, “she’s just jealous. You’re going to be the first one to marry amongst us. Where is he? I like him as a brother.”

The Harrods expressed their congratulations next, followed by Jack Grimshaw.

“What a pity.” He lingered over my hand, his dark eyes intense and glowing. “I don’t suspect we’ll have our date now?”

“I never agreed to a date, Mr. Grimshaw,” I replied. “And are you not otherwise engaged to your cousin? I saw you in the woods together.”

The truth blurted out. I knew why. Armed with the major behind me, I felt invincible, able to take on the world.

“You must always be careful in the woods,” he said in return. “You never know who lurks about.”

I paused, asking him frankly what I had shied away from earlier. “Did you try to kill Ellen for Rosalie’s sake?”

Chuckling, he downed the remainder of his wine. “You are overly imaginative, my dear. Tell me, can you see me as a villain in one of your books? I fancy I’d make quite a good villain.”

“No, a great one,” I assured him, knowing I’d get nothing from him unless he were to offer it.

After that encounter, I raced upstairs to see Ellen. Complaining of a headache, she’d retired and I found her reading a book to Charlotte.

“She should have been asleep hours ago … hearing the noise downstairs startled her. She wanted to join us.”

“I know what it’s like.” I groaned with Charlotte. “I used to sit on the steps and watch my parents’ parties. I liked watching the grand ladies and handsome men.”

“Is Uncle Jack here? Uncle Dean? Can I see them, Mummy?”

“No, my dear. It’s bedtime now. We’ll see them another day.”

Charlotte smiled as Ellen bent down to kiss her forehead.

“Mummy,” she said when we were at the door, “will I get to see my sister now that that woman’s dead?”

“From the mouths of babes,” I quoted, following Ellen into her room. I had planned to celebrate my engagement news and relay my encounter with Jack Grimshaw, but after Charlotte’s words, I couldn’t.

“It’s natural she wants to see her sister … I’m not sure if the influence is good for her, though. And this is depending upon whether Miss Rosalie wishes to see Charlotte at all. We have the court case still pending as well. Oh, Daphne, I must confess to a huge relief in knowing she’s dead. She’s made the world a better place for leaving it.”

“What will you do?”

“Return to Thornleigh. It’s like a massive cloud hanging over our heads has disappeared. I’m even going to cut Farnton. We don’t need him anymore.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise, Ellen…”

“Oh, nonsense. There was a danger when that woman was alive. She’d do anything to harm us but I don’t think Rosalie will continue in her stead.”

“But what if those threats were from somebody else? One of Teddy’s disgruntled business companions?”

“We haven’t received anything lately. In any case, I’m selling the Salinghurst shares. I want no part of it.”

“Have you informed the Yard?”

“Yes. Dean’s already approached me to buy them. I know Teddy would want to keep it in the family, so I’ll sell to Dean.”

“You’re selling to Jack Grimshaw, too,” I reminded her. “I think he did it, Ellen. I think he killed your husband.”

Sinking farther into the pillows on her bed, a soft cry escaped her lips. “Do you know what the papers are saying about me, now? That I’m a murderer. Oh, Daphne, I’m afraid. I was nowhere near that hotel but I lied to the police. I wasn’t here. I took Charlotte to the park that afternoon. The police know that I lied but they haven’t come back yet. I’m afraid they’ll come for me and say I did it.”

I paused stroking her back. Over the years, we’d formed our friendship through letters. Those heartfelt letters, exposing and declaring all our inner fears and secrets, consoling our losses, celebrating our successes … had I missed something? I’d never known her to lie before.

How well did I really know Ellen? Had she become a character to me and not a real person?

I forced myself to swallow the truth. I’d waited eagerly for those letters to arrive. I savored every word. It was like living someone else’s life in all its intricate detail and emotion.

But deception lurked. I sensed her fear now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“I am happy for you, Daph,” Angela said early the next morning, sneaking into my room without invitation.

Yawning, I half-opened an eyelid. “It’s all right. I didn’t expect you to blow a trumpet. Go back to bed, Ange.”

“No.” She planted herself on the edge of my bed. “I’m sorry. I should have shown more sisterly jubilation. It was unfair of me.”

Maybe she was jealous? I tried to open my eyes but I was so tired, they insisted on sticking together. “It doesn’t matter,” I assured her. “I won’t take offense.”

“But this is one of these moments I feel like I’ve failed. I’m your sister. We’ve shared a great deal together. I don’t know what overcame me … perhaps jealousy because I’ve missed my chance.”

Struggling to keep my eyes open, I propped myself up to see a single tear fall down her cheek.

“You haven’t missed your chance.”

“I have,” she choked, “I-I have…”

“You said you didn’t want to marry.”

“I know and now he’s married with a child on the way. Oh, Daphne, I spurned him and sent him packing. Why did I? For some foolish reason that he wasn’t good enough in my parents’ eyes and I could do better? Ha! I’ll end an old maid on the shelf.”

“You’re still young.” I sighed. “Remember Dorothy? She married when she was thirty-six. And look at Ellen. She loved and lost and then loved again.”

“And lost again.” Angela lowered her head, miserable. “I won’t make a splendid match. I’ve always known that and I rejected a good man. You’re lucky, Daphne. You’ve got a great catch, a handsome, charming man, and I know you’ll be happy.”

Forcing myself awake, I scanned her face, looking for clues. “Is it my eventual going away that concerns you?”

“Yes and no.” She sighed. “I suppose I never expected my younger sister to set up house before me … establish herself in society, that sort of thing.”

“I’m not getting married tomorrow.” I grinned. “Mother insists on a two-year engagement. I say one.”

A twinkle returned to Angela’s blue eyes. “I’d not wait for a man like that. Speaking of which, your engagement announcement is sure to cause a stir.”

“The only person I wish to rattle is Lady Lara,” I confessed, recalling the hard, determined look in that too-perfect face. “I fear she’ll always be a thorn in my side.”

“Then tread carefully, sister. You are too naive in such matters.”

Was I? Chewing on my lip, I abandoned my bed for the mirror. The face that stared back at me did appear young and innocent, I thought: porcelain skin, neat, clear features, a tiny snub nose, and a mouth too eager. Faint shadows drifted over deep-set eyes, secretive eyes, and I wasn’t sure what lurked in those mysterious depths.

I set down to write a few pages before breakfast. I was very excited about the concept for my novel. I’d wanted to write a family saga since the Padthaway case, but I couldn’t settle upon characters or a location. Now I had both: Cornwall and Janet. My Janet was middle-class, from a working family, I decided.

Reviewing what I’d written earlier at Thornleigh, I suppressed a groan. Those few chapters gave me a glimpse into Janet’s world but I had to force myself to agree it wasn’t the place to begin.

Scrapping the chapters by shoving them in my notebook for future reference, I glanced at a fresh page and began:

Janet Coombe stood high on the hill above Plyn, looking down upon the harbor. Although the sun was already high in the heavens, the little town was still wrapped in an early morning mist. It clung to Plyn like a thin pale blanket, lending to the place a faint whisper of unreality as if the whole had been blessed by the touch of ghostly fingers …

“Daphne! Major Browning is here.”

Oh dear. I hadn’t even brushed my hair. Making haste to the bathroom, I discovered I looked worse than I initially thought. After combing out the knots to look less like a bird’s nest, I tucked my hair behind my ears and washed my face.

Still in my dressing gown, I hunted through my wardrobe for a pretty day dress. Drat. I couldn’t find one of those, either. I must pay more attention to my wardrobe as my mother warned me.

Going into Angela’s room, I borrowed a dress of hers, a cream base with red frills. There, I checked my image in the mirror, pleased with the result.

My heart started beating faster the moment I heard his voice. The low timbre suggested his entertaining the women and enjoying it. For a moment, I paused outside the door. I don’t know what overcame me but I felt afraid. I didn’t want to go inside; I didn’t want them all looking at me.

Of course I must. He was my fiancé. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door.

“Daphne darling.” He leapt to his feet, taking my hand and sweeping me into the room.

Gazing up at his handsome confidence, my love for him deepened. He knew I had these occasional bouts of flagging self-esteem. And he’d come to my rescue, a real modern-day knight in shining armor.

“How lovely you look in my dress.” Angela grinned, eager to make up for last night’s icy reaction. “Keep it. It looks better on you than me.”

“I have just the hat to go with that dress.” Ellen beamed, happy to be going home to Thornleigh. “Charlotte, race upstairs and tell Nanny to leave out the red hat. Daphne must put it on for her outing.”

“My outing?”

“I have gained permission to take you for a stroll in the park,” the major drawled. “Forgive the early morning intrusion, ladies.”

“Oh, you may come anytime,” my mother assured him, sending him a winsome smile before a motherly embrace. “You are like family now.”

“Thank you.”

Once outside, I burst out laughing. “I’ve never seen her so happy. I’ll never understand all the bother about daughters getting married.”

“Maybe you’ll understand when you have a daughter of your own.”

I stopped. I hadn’t imagined having children until then even though it was the natural progression of life.

“You do want children, don’t you?”

He was amused by my hesitation.

“Or do you wish to pursue your career as a novelist?”

On arriving at Hyde Park, I smiled at the sunny day. “Both. Some consider their books babies, you know.”

“The less noisy kind.”

Offering his arm while I adjusted my hat, he chose a path for us. He looked so tall and handsome, I felt proud to accompany him and prouder still to belong to him.

The day was splendid, the sunshine spreading over us like a warm woollen blanket. Many seized the initiative to bask in it, walking, sitting, running, reading books under trees, playing with children on the green and by ponds, or strutting the path like we, a newly engaged couple.

“Mrs. Edgecombe.” The major tipped his hat, passing a plump lady of austere character. “She’s a friend of the Rutlands,” he whispered.

“That explains her austerity. I hope you warned your family?”

“I did that before I left Germany.”

“Oh no! They must think—”

“That you’re extraordinary. My future wife
is
extraordinary and they’ll see for themselves in a moment.”

I held my breath. “What did you say?”

“Don’t bite your nails nervously.” He tucked my hand under his arm. “We are walking toward them.”

“You scoundrel,” I whispered under my breath, trusting I looked as I should meeting his parents for the first time.

They waved at us from ahead. I swallowed and smiled, accepting his mother’s embrace.

“Why, Tommy, she’s lovely. Younger than I expected.”

“I look younger than I am,” I replied, shaking hands with his father.

“Tommy’s told us all about you.” His mother pulled me aside to inspect the flowers by the lake. “And Susanna speaks well of you.”

“That’s kind of you,” I replied. “I’m afraid we’ve attracted some unpleasant remarks for his breaking with the Rutlands—”

“Now, now, you’re not to think we’d rather see him wed to Lady Lara. We want our boy to be happy. He mentioned you long ago and I wondered.”

“Oh, indeed?”

“Yes … he sent us a postcard from Cornwall. He said he was on a fishing trip and that he’d found ‘a rare fish from the sea with ancient eyes.’ Later, he spoke of a girl with a penchant for writing and getting herself into trouble. ‘She needs looking after,’ he said and I knew then that you were special. He never spoke of the other girls like that and especially not Lady Lara. Theirs has been a very
public
romance.”

“You knew it was a farce?”

A serene smile touched her lips. “I guessed. It’s a sense intrinsic to mothers.”

We walked a little way with them. They said they were rarely in town and invited me to stay a weekend at their home.