The Dead Queen's Garden (11 page)

Charlotte suddenly remembered Miss Armstrong who must also be given a gift. The other woman would not expect anything and was highly unlikely to have provided herself with gifts for her hosts, but an embroidered linen handkerchief was an unexceptionable
little gift and Charlotte had provided herself with a new one for Christmas Day. Luckily Lily had decreed that presents were to be exchanged after today’s early dinner so there was time to wrap it in silver tissue paper

‘I’m going to walk over to Knightley Hall this morning,’ Charlotte announced to Lady Frampton before breakfast. ‘I begged a slice of bread and butter from the kitchen, so I’ll forego breakfast here. I’m only going to offer the season’s greetings to Elaine and Kit, and I’ll be home in plenty of time to smarten myself up in time for church.’

‘Season’s greetings, hey?’ The old lady reached out to press Charlotte’s hand with hearty sympathy. ‘Poor souls, it won’t be much of a Christmas for them, I fear, not from what I ’ear of Mrs Knightley’s state of ’ealth.’ She glanced at her dear companion’s face and nodded, noting the sudden pallor and the grief that
darkened
her hazel eyes. ‘You’ll feel it very much, me dear,’ she added, with kindly affection.

‘Yes,’ was all Charlotte could say as she hastily rose from her chair in the old lady’s room. She went to find her outdoor garments, along with the tiny nosegay she had fashioned from sprigs of rosemary and a spray of yellow winter jasmine from the garden. It was a small enough present, she sighed, but what could you give to a woman who was dying?

‘So you enjoyed your visit to Brambrook Abbey?’ Elaine Knightley looked so fine-drawn and delicate that Charlotte was hard put to disguise her concern, though she knew that any reference to her friend’s health would be quite unacceptable.

‘I did,’ she agreed. ‘I really accepted the invitation to please young Oz, but I found Lady Granville much less daunting than I had anticipated. Do you know anything of her history? She told me her husband’s father had built the Abbey and that he was a mill owner from Lancashire, but I know nothing of her own
background
.’

‘I believe her mother was French and…’ Elaine frowned as she marshalled her thoughts, ‘her father was English, Viscount something or other, I don’t think I ever heard the name. Lady Granville
was brought up at her mother’s home in Provence where I presume they returned after Napoleon’s defeat. I do recall someone telling me that she provides the respectable lineage in the partnership, while his lordship is the one with the money.

‘A great deal of money too, from what I’ve heard, so nobody has ever wondered that she put up with his rumoured infidelities, though I believe it was said that she did so with an ill grace. I gather though, that when she finally managed to bear a living child, her nature seemed to soften and that she and her husband have since been on much happier terms.’ For a moment Elaine’s delicately lovely face wore a shadow and Charlotte knew she was thinking of her own still-born child.

‘I have a conundrum for you, Elaine.’ The sorrow on her friend’s face was too much and Charlotte cast about for some new diversion. ‘I must tell you something very disturbing.’ She recounted the various mishaps that had troubled Lady Granville at the christening, along with the sadly unexpected death of young Mrs Chant the next morning.

The diversion worked perfectly. Ignoring her weakness, Elaine Knightley sat upright on the chaise longue agog with interest. ‘My dearest Char,’ she exclaimed, looking round to call for fresh coffee. ‘What a perfectly dreadful thing to happen and on top of that shocking murder last week. What is the village coming to? That poor young woman and her sister too, bereaved so suddenly.’

‘Kit thinks I’m yearning for adventure,’ Charlotte confessed. ‘Oh, he was very polite and concerned but I know he believes I’m exaggerating all the little coincidences and seeing murder on every side, because of my experiences in Bath.’

‘Kit talks a great deal of nonsense,’ was the caustic reply. ‘He knows very well that you were nervous and shaken for weeks after our stay there, but….’ Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her visitor, ‘Your life is very quiet, Char. However, perhaps it is about to liven up with the arrival of this old acquaintance from Australia?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is that – forgive me, my dear, but you have told me something of your early life. Are you likely to find yourself embarrassed by this elderly servant’s reminiscences? For you know I will do whatever still lies within my power to help.’

‘Dear Elaine….’ Charlotte was touched and gave the thin hand a loving squeeze. ‘How like you to offer, but no, I don’t fear Bessie’s tales. She knew us at a time of relative prosperity and of quite unparalleled propriety, so there are no secrets to be spilled by her.’

No, she made a face, shamed again by the memory. It was fortunate that Bessie’s departure to Tasmania, with the large and handsome vagabond who had swept her off her feet, had occurred just before Will Glover tired of being respectable.
‘I’m sorry, Molly,’
he told Charlotte’s long-suffering mother, when she realized he had absconded with the church building fund, cajoling her with the smile he knew she found irresistible.
‘But living a life of stifling respectability has definitely begun to pall upon me. What do you say? Shall we seek our fortune over in the goldfields? I hear there are rich pickings (of every description) to be had around Ballarat.’

There had certainly been gold, easily picked up, though not through sweating in the fields – that was hardly Will’s style – by a handsome and charming Anglican clergyman (albeit a former convict posing as such). Charlotte recalled her mother’s gritted teeth as Will blithely set himself up as vicar to a mining township.

Much better not to bring those days to mind, she sighed, and hastened to reassure Elaine Knightley that she would be safe from scandal.

‘Goodness,’ she exclaimed. ‘I nearly forgot. You’ll never guess what has happened, Elaine. Miss Nightingale has offered me a situation!’ She explained about the letter and told of Lady Frampton’s dismay on hearing of the proposed post. ‘I told Gran I had no intention of accepting,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But even though it’s true what I said, that Miss Nightingale would surely be the most difficult of employers, I must confess that I’m more than a little tempted.’

‘I can see that,’ said Elaine, to Charlotte’s surprise. ‘You still don’t feel entirely at home here, do you?’ She reached over to clasp the other girl’s hand. ‘I’ve seen that look on your face sometimes, in an unguarded moment, when you look as you did when you first arrived at the manor. Alone, fiercely independent and as wary as a hunted hare.’

‘You know me too well,’ Charlotte admitted with a slight smile. ‘I’ve promised Gran that I won’t accept and I sent a polite refusal to Miss Nightingale only this morning, by way of one of our stable lads who has gone to see his mother on the Embley Park estate. Of course I shall stick to my word, I can’t hurt Gran, but yes, I confess that I’ve been rather tempted. Perhaps Kit is right about me? I don’t seem to have a true purpose in life and I am restless, but…’ she brightened and gave a light laugh, ‘I don’t think I’m so bored that I’m reduced to seeking out non-existent murderers so, for the present, I shall continue to be a companion to Gran and to help Barnard with the place, as well as spending Christmas trying to prevent practically everyone else from strangling Melicent Penbury.’

Elaine leaned back against her pillows looking exhausted, but she opened her eyes and waved Charlotte back to her seat, when the younger girl rose to tiptoe out of the room.

‘No, don’t go, please, Char. I’m well enough for the moment. I was just wondering about you, my dear.’ Her grey eyes were larger than ever in the delicate face, now so much more fine-drawn than even a few months ago when they had first met. ‘It sounds a worthy enough purpose, to look after Lady Frampton, and I know that the old lady is a splendidly cheerful companion, but still…. Is there nobody else? Nobody you could call a kindred spirit? It’s a lonely life after all. However fond you may be of Lily and Barnard at the manor – and indeed, they of you – you will need a friend in the coming months, dearest Charlotte.’

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears but she said nothing and sat looking down at her hands, while she fought back the sob that threatened to choke her. It was painful beyond measure that it should be Elaine who recognised the gap that would soon yawn ahead of her, but out of love and respect for her friend, Charlotte made no comment other than to summon up a tremulous smile and say, ‘I have little hope of making Miss Nightingale a bosom friend, I fear, though I do rather like the look of our visitor, Miss Armstrong. She is bearing her troubles with dignity and I respect that in her and I believe I’ve surprised a glimpse of mischief once or twice, when Melicent Penbury has been particularly trying. Miss
Armstrong has an unexpected dimple that came into view when Gran was berating Melicent last night. I can and will befriend her for a day or so, but it will not answer in the long term for the poor girl must begin to look for a situation as soon as Christmas is out of the way and her sister safely buried.’

She knuckled her tears away with a sudden glimmer of
amusement
. ‘I must say that Lady Granville is proving surprisingly sympathetic, astonishing as it might seem.’ At Elaine’s exclamation of surprise, Charlotte nodded. ‘I know. It’s hard to picture it, is it not, but she is so enthusiastic about her wonderful garden, that it’s difficult to recognise the normally stately lady. Besides,’ her smile was reminiscent, ‘She is so utterly devoted to her son that I can’t but be charmed.’

‘I believe his arrival was the greatest joy to her,’ Elaine remarked. ‘I was newly married at the time and I know Kit’s mother, who was a friend of hers, felt exceedingly anxious during the long wait before his birth. It was said locally that the lady took to her bed for near the entire time, with visitors strictly rationed lest they bring infection to the house, so anxious was she to avoid disappointment. In fact, I believe she was conveyed very gingerly and in easy stages to a small place near Bournemouth for the last month or so, to benefit from the pinewoods and the sea air and that was where she was confined. It’s no wonder she is so besotted with the boy.’

She looked nostalgic. ‘It’s one of the places Kit took me to a year or two ago after someone had praised it to him as being the perfect place for a cure. So it might be, for someone else,’ she shrugged. ‘It’s very restful and if you want some society there’s a lending library and an assembly room. The pine walks are charming but I don’t imagine Lady Granville saw much of them.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘You could do worse than take her for a friend, Char. I doubt Lord Granville enters into her pursuits. I gather he likes a peaceful life at home and lets her rule the roost but otherwise, from what Kit tells me, spends most of his time shooting and hunting, and riding about the estate.’

‘I was interested in what she told me about her passion for old abbeys,’ Charlotte said. ‘I can’t remember all of them, but she certainly mentioned Gracedieu and Walsingham.’ She broke off
abruptly at a sudden shadow on her friend’s face. ‘What is it, what did I say to upset you?’

‘Nothing, you foolish Char. How could you know that for centuries Walsingham was a place of pilgrimage for barren women? I believe there is nothing to see, these days, but women still go there to pray. Lady Granville was one of the fortunate ones.’

Elaine was looking weary so Charlotte said no more, and prepared to take her leave, pausing only when a thought struck her.

‘Heavens, I almost forgot.’ She turned a sparkling smile towards her hostess. ‘The vicar received a letter yesterday from his sister, Dora. You recollect her, I’m sure? It was you who
reconciled
me to her marriage to our neighbour.’ Elaine nodded, looking keenly interested. ‘It seems that Dora is to present her husband with a token of her affection in July. They are in Italy at present and she announces that she is in splendid health and clambering about a multitude of ruins. She cannot imagine why her sister-in-law has made such heavy weather of what is, after all, a perfectly natural state. Poor Agnes, who has suffered every discomfort under the sun, is sunk in gloom and guilt at her own incompetence.’

‘Good God!’ Elaine’s eyes brightened with a slightly malicious sparkle. ‘Who would have thought her husband brave enough to demand his conjugal rights,’ she giggled, ‘and how typical of Dora to sail through with no trouble. I do hope though,’ she clapped a hand to her mouth and looked aghast, ‘I hope Mrs Penbury has no such news? Surely everyone in sight would be obliged to suffer each pang and twinge along with her?’

Charlotte bent to kiss her. ‘What a prospect. I feel guilty always, because that woman makes me uncharitable in spite of her infirmities, but I’ve heard nothing of the kind so far, thank God. Captain Penbury would surely demand a
couvade
in honour of his resident musket ball, should his wife announce an impending event.

‘Now, I really must leave you to rest. I have to go home and tidy myself in time for church. I must also make sure Gran is not in a panic about which present she intends for which person.’

‘That reminds me … before you go, dearest Char,’ Elaine was holding out a small box from the table at her side. ‘A little something
for Christmas and to thank you for my sweet-smelling little nosegay. Open it, do,’ she urged.

‘Oh, Elaine.…’ Charlotte gazed in awe at the small but lovely emerald and pearl brooch that nestled in faded velvet. ‘This is far too precious, you should not….’

‘Indeed I should,’ said Elaine decidedly. ‘It belonged to my grandmother and has no great value, the emeralds are small and the pearls the same, but she was very dear to me, as are you. It’s very old, it was her own grandmother’s originally and now I want you to have it, dear Char, to remind….’ She broke off abruptly. ‘It’s yours now, so no more protestations if you please.’

Charlotte nodded wordlessly, obediently pinned the brooch to her dress, and kissed her friend affectionately. As she picked up her shawl, Kit Knightley put his head round the door and smiled when Elaine called out to him, ‘What an opportune arrival, Kit. You are just in time to escort this dear girl downstairs, for she insists on leaving us.’