02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall (7 page)

When
Rose went down to breakfast the next morning she found only Josephine seated
there eating a slice of toast.

‘I do
hope you slept well, Rose,’ said Josephine, pleasantly. ‘Do help yourself to
breakfast. There’s bacon, eggs and devilled kidneys in the chafing dishes on
the sideboard and Sidney will serve you coffee and hot toast.’ She turned her
attention to the footman. ‘I do hope you’re feeling better, Sidney. Crabtree
said that you were laid up in bed yesterday quite ill. I suppose we are rather
short staffed now that poor Robert’s gone. I do hope I can get Father to
reconsider his dismissal. He has a mother and two small brothers to support,
hasn’t he?’

‘Yes,
miss,’ said the footman and hurried off to the kitchen as soon as he had served
Rose, eager to break the good news to Robert that the mistress intended to
speak on his behalf. While Sidney understood why Robert had done what he had
done, he had not appreciated being roused from his sick bed to undertake both
his and Robert’s duties which were onerous even when he was feeling on top form,
which he most definitely was not today.

There
was a companionable silence for a time as each girl indulged in eating her
breakfast.

‘I’m
sorry we’re a bit light on the ground,’ Josephine said, turning her attention
back to Rose, ‘Isabella’s insisted on taking breakfast in her room and Father
always breakfasts early. He’s bending poor Cedric’s ear in his study while we
speak. About Hallam, of course. He wants Cedric to keep him occupied. I think
he’s afraid that otherwise he might challenge Hugh to a duel or something
equally idiotic.’

‘Your
brother certainly seems very upset by Lord Sneddon’s arrival,’ Rose said
carefully, not wishing to be accused of prying.

‘Yes,
it really is most unfortunate. I can’t imagine what Isabella was thinking
bringing him here; she might have known how Hallam would react. I suppose I
ought to explain it all to you, although I’m afraid it’s all rather sordid. You
see, there was a bit of a scandal earlier this year when…’ Josephine broke off
speaking suddenly at the arrival of Sidney with fresh coffee and more slices of
hot toast. ‘I say, do you fancy having a walk in the gardens in say three
quarters of an hour? I’ve got a few chores to do first and then I’ll tell you
all about it.’

Rose
finished her coffee and left the room quickly, not long after Josephine. No
mention had been made as to whether or not Lord Sneddon had breakfasted and she
did not wish to find herself suddenly alone with him over bacon and eggs. She
walked swiftly out into the hall in time to catch the end of a conversation
Josephine was having with the butler.

‘Are
you sure that this is all the post that’s come this morning, Crabtree?’ she was
asking, flicking through some envelopes.

‘Quite
sure, madam,’ confirmed the butler. ‘There are just the two letters for you,
miss, and five for the master.’

‘Oh,
but I was expecting another one. Why hasn’t it come?’ Josephine sounded clearly
agitated. ‘Crabtree, are you sure this is everything? I’m waiting on a very
important letter. I must get it today. Send the boot boy down to the post
office, will you, and check whether it’s there.’

‘This
is all the post, miss.’

‘I
don’t care, Crabtree, I want the boy to check. I was expecting the letter
yesterday, it’s obviously been mislaid somewhere at the post office; get the
boy to go over there and get them to check thoroughly.’

‘Very
good, madam,’ said the butler in a resigned manner, sure of the outcome but carrying
out his orders nevertheless.

‘Oh,
there you are, Rose,’ said Josephine suddenly catching sight of her. ‘I didn’t
know you were there.’ Was it Rose’s imagination or had Josephine blushed
slightly as if she had been caught out in something of a dubious nature? ‘You
must have thought I was making rather a song and dance about that letter. It
was just that I’m expecting a note from a shop about an outfit I’m having made
to wear to a party. The invitation was so very grand, and now I’m having second
thoughts about having my dress made locally. I should really have gone up to
London to organise my costume. The shop said they’d get back to me with some
ideas. And normally they’re so reliable, which makes me feel sure that they’ve
lost the letter somewhere at the post office. We are always having dreadful
problems with post going astray.’ With that she made her way hurriedly upstairs,
and again Rose may have been mistaken, but she had the feeling that the girl
was close to tears.

Rose
wondered idly what the letter was that Josephine was waiting on so impatiently.
Not for a moment did she believe the story of a fancy dress party. It was clear
to her that this had been the first thing that had come into Josephine’s mind
in a clumsy attempt to explain her agitation. Besides anything, Rose could not
imagine Josephine attending a fancy dress ball; it seemed to her much more the
sort of thing her sister, Isabella, would do. Before she could dwell on the
matter further, she almost collided with Cedric who was coming out of Baron
Atherton’s study, a rather serious and resigned expression on his face.

‘Oh,
there you are, Rose. I am glad to see you. I’m sorry I missed you at breakfast.
The baron was very keen to have a word with me about Hallam. He’s got it into
his head that the boy means to do Lord Sneddon harm and he wants to take all
necessary precautions to ensure that Isabella’s marriage to Hugh takes place.’
He took her hand and led her into the drawing room in order that they might
continue their conversation in private. ‘Between you and me, Rose, I’m having
difficulty reasoning with the man. I’ve tried to explain what a cad Sneddon is,
and how Isabella would be much better off not marrying him, but he simply won’t
listen. He’s got his heart set on his daughter becoming a duchess. Really the
man’s intolerable; he seems to have very little regard for his daughter’s
future happiness. Having said that, I’m sure Isabella can look after herself. I
have never known her do anything that she doesn’t want to do. My mother used to
think her even more headstrong than Lavinia, and that’s saying something.’

‘Josephine
mentioned something about a scandal that happened earlier this year involving
Sneddon. She’s going to tell me all about it later when we go for a walk in the
gardens.’

‘Good.
I know I said last night that I didn’t want us to get involved in all this, but
I think now the sooner we get to the bottom of it, the sooner we can sort
everything out and enjoy this weekend. I’m off to have a word with Hallam to
get his side of the story. I’m pleased to see that Hugh’s keeping a low profile
this morning.’ With that, he mounted the staircase and, taking the stairs two
at a time, soon disappeared from view.

Rose
looked at her wristwatch. She still had twenty minutes or so before she was due
to meet Josephine for a walk in the gardens and she wondered how she should occupy
herself until then. She glanced around the hall and her eye rested on the door
to the library. No doubt it would be full of some interesting books that she
could browse through to while away the time until she met up with Josephine;
certainly it seemed a waste of time and energy to go back upstairs.

She
opened the door to the library and went in. For a moment she did nothing but
take in the splendour of the room, the pale yellow walls with vast Victorian
mahogany brass-trimmed bookcases, completely filled with books bound in calf
leather, and which covered large areas of the walls almost up to the ceiling.
The bookcases in turn were divided by Corinthian columns and surmounted on the
occasional plinth around the room were a number of marble busts. A pair of late
nineteenth century, high backed, tufted leather wing chairs had been drawn up
to the great marble fireplace at the end of the room, which remained unlit.

Rose
selected a book from the shelves at random and went and sat on one of the
leather wing chairs. Due to the height of the back and the way the chair was
positioned, it amused her to think that if she tucked up her legs beneath her
on the seat, which was easily done given that the chair was so large, then any
servant happening to open the door would assume that the room was empty for she
would be completely hidden from view by the chair back. She leaned back into
the leather, finding the chair surprisingly comfortable and this, coupled with
the act of reading, began to make her feel drowsy. Afterwards, she realised
that she must have fallen asleep, even if only for a few minutes, for she did
not hear the door open until it was too late.

‘Hallam,
your father has asked me to come and speak with you,’ Cedric began, walking
into the young man’s bedroom.

‘Don’t
bother,’ replied Hallam listlessly. He was lying out-stretched and fully
clothed on his bed which, together with the dark rings under his eyes,
indicated that he had been up for hours. As far as Cedric could tell, he had
been throwing balls of rolled up paper at the ceiling, seemingly having
abandoned attempts to get them into the wickerwork waste paper basket situated
at the other end of the room.

‘Come
on, old man,’ said Cedric, sitting down on the bed beside him, ‘you’d better
tell me what’s going on. You’ll feel better for it and you never know, perhaps
I can help.’

‘It’s
no use, Cedric, my father won’t listen to me. I went to see him first thing
this morning to have my say, but he’s adamant that Isabella’s going to marry
Sneddon. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind.’

‘If you
feel so strongly about it, then perhaps you should try and change Isabella’s
mind; after all she’s the one who’ll be marrying the fellow. Come on. You can’t
just lie there doing nothing but giving the servants additional work. I know
it’s early, but I’ll give you a game of billiards in the game’s room. You can
tell me what you’ve got against Sneddon marrying your sister while we’re
playing.’

The
door was flung open and then shut again loudly and Rose awoke with a start,
realising that she was no longer alone in the library. But before she could
make her presence known a heated argument broke out, so that she was left to
sit where she was, concealed from view, a reluctant eavesdropper.

‘Hugh,
I don’t think I can go through with it; please don’t make me.’ Rose had not
heard the aloof Isabella sound so wretched.

‘Pull
yourself together, Isabella.’ Rose recognised Lord Sneddon’s voice which
sounded cold, harsh and unrelenting. ‘We had an agreement, my dear, don’t you
remember? I’ll keep quiet about certain of your escapades if you honour your
side of the bargain.’

‘But
it’s too much, Hugh, too much to ask of anyone. I can’t do it,’ she sobbed, ‘I
simply can’t do it.’

‘Well,
in that case I’ll hand these letters over to a newspaper or perhaps distribute
them all over London.’ Rose heard the rustle of paper as Lord Sneddon took a
bundle of papers from his pocket. ‘Is that what you really want, Isabella? I’m
sure the baron will be delighted to find out what his darling daughter really
gets up to in London. I’m sure he’d love to know that the illicit affair
between the Honourable Isabella Atherton and her penniless French tutor is
common gossip among high society.’

‘No,
Hugh, please.’ Rose could hear what she supposed was Isabella attempting to
snatch the letters from Sneddon’s grasp.

‘Not so
quick, my dear. Besides, don’t take me for a fool. I’m not so stupid as to keep
all your letters with me. What I have here are only a few. Still, they make
very interesting reading, now let’s see: “My darling Claude. I cannot wait
until I am in your arms and your lips are on mine; to feel our bodies entwined
as one ….” Really, my dear, how very risqué. I only hope that his letters to
you were equally passionate.’

‘Please,
Hugh, don’t…’ There was a silence as if each were contemplating their next move.

‘Tell
me that you haven’t read all my letters to Claude. I couldn’t bear it,’
Isabella said at last.

‘No
need to fret, my dear. I’ve only glanced through one or two just to get the
general gist of things, so to speak. Believe me, my dear Isabella, I get no
thrill out of reading your impassioned words to another man. Now, if such words
were addressed to me, well that would be another matter altogether.’

‘If I
do go through with it, do you give me your word as a gentleman that you’ll
return every single one of my letters to me?’

‘I do.
At our wedding breakfast if you so desire. We can stand side by side as you
count them and then we’ll throw them into the fire.’

‘I
don’t understand why you want to marry me in the first place. Surely you’d
prefer a willing bride rather than one blackmailed into marrying you against
her will.’

‘I’ve
explained before, Isabella. I need money, and lots of it. I haven’t time to woo
an heiress. I wasted enough time on Lavinia and a number before her as it is.
My creditors won’t wait. You’re not quite as rich as I would have liked, but
you’ll have to do; beggars can’t be choosers. Still, it needn’t be too awful.
You are very lovely, my dear; it needn’t be such a sacrifice if you don’t want
it to be. And it’s not as if you’re not getting anything out of it other than
the return of your letters. You’ll be a duchess in due course and many women
consider me more than tolerably handsome.’