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Authors: At the Earls Command

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BOOK: Sally James
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'That's possible,' the Constable conceded, but before he could go on there was a knock on the door and the landlord returned.

'I thought I'd better let you know, but one of the ostlers who'd gone on an errand, taken the wagon to collect a load of hay, says he saw someone running from the stable last night, late. He'd just come back from the alehouse down the road, a bit merry and singing, he says, and I reckon the murderer was disturbed by that. Else why didn't he take the jewels?'

The Constable, looking disappointed, nodded. 'He was wearing rings and fobs, too.'

'Whoever did it would have taken them, even if they hadn't searched his pockets,' the landlord insisted, 'unless they was interrupted,' he ended triumphantly.

'Or if they were afraid of being caught with them, or didn't need them,' the Constable said, glancing at Adam.

The door opened again.

'Landlord, they told me you were in here, when I said my name was Shore. What in the world's been happening? And what are my mother's rubies doing here?'

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Martin Shore stopped on the threshold, and stared from Adam to Kate in some surprise.

'Miss Byford? Malvern. What are you doing here?'

'We halted on our way north,' Adam replied smoothly, 'and became involved in this business of your mother's rubies. Perhaps you can enlighten us as to how Darcy Limmering came into possession of them?'

'Limmering?' Martin exclaimed, and looked round the room. 'Where is he? Why can't he tell you? Or perhaps he stole them when she was robbed. He wouldn't want that known, of course.'

'Limmering was killed last night.'

'Killed? But - I don't understand. Where? Here? And how did you get the rubies?'

'Last night he went out to the stables, he was about to depart for some other hostelry, we believe, and he was set upon and stabbed. The murderer was disturbed and fled, and we found the rubies on Darcy's body this morning,' Adam explained crisply.

Martin walked slowly across the room and sank into another chair, facing Adam. 'I saw you on the road,' he said accusingly. 'You weren't with Kate then.'

'No,' Adam agreed. 'She and Darcy had left earlier. They were going to his mother's house in Yorkshire, to meet her cousins, and I arranged to catch up with them here. Where did you spend the night?'

'A miserable little place just outside St Neots,' Martin replied with a grimace. 'One of the horses went lame, and I couldn't drive any further. I stopped here for a meal, couldn't face what they offered me for breakfast there.'

'You look fagged to death. Were the beds uncomfortable too?' Adam asked.

'Like boards. God, I'll be thankful to get home. London has its points, but give me the country!'

The Constable had been coughing impatiently, and he broke in now.

'Allow me, my lord, if you please. You, sir, claim to be the owner of these jewels?'

Martin stared at him for a moment. 'No, they belong to my mother. All her jewels were stolen from the house a short while ago.'

'In London?'

'Yes.'

'And why are you here now?'

'What the devil has that to do with anything? I was on my way home. Now, I suppose, I'll have to turn round and take these back to my mother.'

He stretched out his hand but the Constable swiftly picked up the jewels.

'Oh, no, sir. I'm sorry, but that won't do at all. You must see that the jewels are part of the evidence, and until the verdict's been given on the poor gentleman, I'd do wrong to let them go.'

Martin frowned, then shrugged. 'I suppose so. How long will that be?'

'I can't say, sir. It depends on the coroner. I'll take these jewels now and go and inform him of the circumstances. Then I suppose he'll want to see you.'

Martin frowned. 'I have business at home. I can't hang about here for weeks.'

'If you let me have your direction, sir, and that of your mother, I'll send for you when necessary. You too, my lord.'

Adam nodded curtly. 'Then we can be off, Kate. Come, or we won't be home in time for dinner.'

Ten minutes later he was handing her into the chaise. Adam stepped up to sit beside her. He did not seem inclined to talk, and she kept her head turned away from him as they travelled across the bare, flat Lincolnshire landscape.

Kate was still shocked by Darcy's death, and her thoughts whirled round and round as she wondered whether Adam was more involved than he'd said.

It was possible they'd met in the stables. Since Darcy had delayed his departure he could still have been there when Adam went down. She cast a glance at Adam from beneath the hood of her cloak. Was it really believable that he had killed Darcy? Was she travelling, alone, with a murderer? It wasn't possible! She could not believe that. And yet, an insidious little voice kept telling her, she didn't know Adam very well. He was determined to get his own way. And he'd been a soldier, had probably killed many men. She shivered. Now he'd caught her she had no option but to go with him to Malvern Court. She didn't know where to find William and Amelia, and somehow she didn't think Adam would let her go easily.

Suddenly she gasped. As she glanced fearfully at Adam she found him surveying her with sardonic amusement. She shivered again, and turned away hastily for fear he would read her thoughts. They were not reassuring. If he contrived her death he would have her money without the need for marrying her.

'Don't be ridiculous!' she admonished herself. If she died while they were alone together, he would be suspected at once. If he had any such intentions towards her he would make it appear an accident, and be far away himself at the time.

Then why hadn't he killed her with Darcy?

Kate shook herself. This was getting more and more ridiculous. She wasn't thinking at all clearly. Once Adam had shown himself to the people at the inn he couldn't have murdered them both. He'd have been better served to wait until they were on the road again and contrive some accident to the chaise. No one would have been suspicious if it had appeared they'd both been shot by highwaymen.  But he hadn't done that. He'd rescued her from Darcy. He'd sent Darcy away, separated them. And killed Darcy, perhaps.

But he couldn't have known Darcy would delay leaving the inn. Her spirits lifted. Why hadn't she thought of that before? Then she shook her head slightly. Although Adam could not have planned it beforehand, that didn't prove he hadn't taken an opportunity once offered to him. Perhaps they'd quarrelled again in the stable. Perhaps Darcy had attacked Adam? She began to breathe more easily. But in that case why had Adam not said anything straight away? Why pretend ignorance?

The puzzle was insoluble. All Kate was certain of was that she was afraid of Adam now, something she had not felt before. And she didn't know whether it was because he might kill her or because of the way he kissed her and made her feel helpless in his arms.

It had begun to rain, a steady thin drizzle which obscured the view and made Kate shudder and pull her cloak yet more tightly about her. Despite that and the warm rugs Adam had procured she felt the cold seep into her bones.

'I much prefer Oxfordshire,' she said suddenly. 'All these streams and rivers make it look so inhospitable.'

Adam looked across at her with a smile. 'It is bleak,' he admitted. 'It used to be very marshy, but a great deal of land reclamation has been done in the last two hundred years, and the dykes provide drainage. It is now very good land. My other house is in the Cotswolds, which is just as bleak in its way, though high on top of hills.'

'We live in the Cotswolds, near Burford, and that is beautiful,' Kate replied wistfully. 'There are pretty, cosy valleys and gentle rivers, not this wide, bare nothingness.'

'We need not spend a great deal of time here,' Adam suggested, and Kate glanced up at him through her eyelashes. 'I usually come just for Christmas, mainly because it was Great Uncle George's custom to spend December here. I will need to spend a week or so here each summer, but it is much more cheerful then, green and fresh. You need not come if you do not wish it and it would perhaps be pleasanter to spend next Christmas at Rhydd Grange.'

Kate could find no answer. It was so annoying of him so blandly to take for granted her eventual submission, and she was tired of arguing with him, tired of this new experience of feeling afraid. She would not believe that he was a murderer, but she still would not marry him, and that was that. Sooner or later he would have to accept it, but it seemed as though she would be kept under close guard, if not actual imprisonment, until he did.

They relapsed into silence again until the postillion swung through a pair of tall gates, and along a gently curving avenue of graceful elms. Because they were bare of leaves Kate caught glimpses through them of a long low house in the distance, and soon they drew up before it.

She caught her breath in admiration. It was very old in parts. There was a square central section of rich brown bricks with small leaded windows, high chimneys and a low pantiled roof. To each side were paired wings in the same brick, but obviously much more recent, with larger windows and a higher roof. Before the whole was a long balustraded terrace, with a break in the centre and two shallow steps leading down to the drive where the chaise had halted.

'Welcome to Malvern Court, my love,' Adam said formally, and leapt down to hand Kate out of the chaise. She could not avoid placing her hand in his, and she trembled at the feel of the warm firm flesh touching hers.

The wide front door opened, and an elderly butler was bowing to them. A groom came running from the stables visible beyond one side of the house to take the horses.

'Welcome home, my lord,' the butler said deferentially, and then grinned widely as Adam slapped him on the shoulder.

'Jenkins, you old rascal, how are you? And Mrs Jenkins?  I trust she has her usual plum puddings and mince pies ready for us?'

'She has indeed, my lord, although it will be strange to be without his old lordship. And this must be Lady Caroline's daughter. Welcome home, Miss. You have a great look of your mother, although you are taller than she was.'

Kate felt tears prickling at her eyelids. For the first time since that summons to London she felt she was in a place where she had a right to be, and she was grateful for the old man's kindness.

'Thank you,' she said shyly, and when he suggested that she might like to go to the room that had been prepared for her, she gladly followed the maid who had been waiting.

Joan, a bright-cheeked country girl, chattered eagerly about the coming festivities as she unpacked Kate's few possessions.

'Though with the old lord dead we won't have the usual big house party,' she said apologetically.

She helped Kate get ready for dinner, brushing her hair and exclaiming at the natural blonde curls.

'I won't have time to iron a gown for you,' she apologized. 'Where are the footmen with your baggage? It's high time they brought them up.'

Kate gulped. She was tired of situations where she lacked the proper clothing. It was little better, she thought angrily, than when they lived in their cottage and she had only a few badly made dresses. That it had been her own fault she resolutely ignored.

'I was travelling with very little luggage. The rest will be sent on. It was - mislaid on the journey,' she said swiftly. 'It doesn't matter. I'll have to wear this one.'

'It's got lots of spots on it,' Joan said disapprovingly.

'Oh, has it? It must be where I - where there was an accident with a bottle of wine, and some was spilt on me,' Kate explained, embarrassed.

'I feel ashamed letting you go down like this.'

'It isn't your fault, Joan, and there won't be any visitors, will there?'

'No, Miss, just you and Master Adam. Oh, dear, I'm forgetting, his lordship, I should say.'

'Did they have a big party? I thought my grandfather didn't like entertaining a lot of people.'

'Only at Christmas. I think he did it mainly for Master Adam. Before Master Adam - his lordship, I should say, went into the army the old lord would invite lots of his young friends. Last year he did the same, though I don't think he enjoyed it much himself. But this year there'll only be a few close friends and relatives.'

'If he didn’t enjoy it, why did he do it?' Kate asked. She knew it was reprehensible to be gossiping like this with a servant, but how else, she reasoned, was she to find out the things she wanted to know? 'I only met him when he was very ill, but I didn't think he'd do anything he didn’t want.'

 Joan giggled. 'No, that he wouldn't. But we all thought he was trying to get Master Adam to fix his interest with a lady. He wanted to be sure there was an heir to carry on the name. He was a very old man,' she added. 'It's a wonder he lasted as long as he did.'

Kate discovered from her that a few of Mrs Rhydd's relations were to come to Malvern Court that Christmas, and a few of Adam's oldest friends.

'There's Sir George and Lady Fernleigh, and two daughters. They are some sort of cousins, I think. The older one's married to a rather quiet gentleman, but the younger one's not much above your age, I should think, Miss. It will be nice for you to have some young company, for the rest of them are as old or older than Mr Adam - I beg pardon, his lordship. It do seem funny to think of him that way. Oh, and there's Sir Robert Kenton, who lives just a few miles away, but he's on his own, his mother died a few years ago, and he and Mr Adam - oh, there I go again, his lordship I should say - they were great friends at school, and were in the army together. He has spent Christmas here since his mother died, except when they were fighting that pesky Napoleon.'

'When do they all come?' Kate asked, amused and a little overwhelmed by this flood of information.

'Not before Mrs Rhydd comes from London, but I haven't heard when she's coming. Sir George - he was a great friend of Master - his lordship's - papa, I do believe, and his family should be here first. The married daughter is so pretty, as dark as you are fair, Miss, but smaller. Her sister's not nearly so pretty, but they're rich, she'll have no trouble in finding a husband. There, I've brushed your hair, Miss. What a shame you have to wear black. With your fair colouring blues and pinks would have been so pretty. But even black looks good on you, and it doesn't suit many people. It wouldn't suit Miss Annabelle, she needs bright colours, she is so bright herself.'

BOOK: Sally James
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