by Issy Brooke
Emily Johnson went pale but she said nothing. Adelia’s heart went out to her. It was not going to be easy, and everyone understood if Emily fell ill the night before and chose not to attend the dinner at all. She would not be blamed for it, and no one would persuade her otherwise. She had been trying so hard, lately, to be in control of herself. Adelia found her feelings softening to the old maid. The secrets annoyed her, but yes – Anne was right – Miss Johnson had a good heart, somewhere.
But Anne went on. “Unfortunately, he regrets that his son Archibald will be unable to come, as he has gone away.”
Adelia felt cold all of a sudden, though that would surely make Miss Johnson feel a little easier. “What does he mean by that? Gone away? Has he killed him?”
“Mama! What a conclusion to jump to!”
“It is a fair one.”
“Are you utterly convinced he killed Mr Spenning?” Anne asked.
“He might have. It is him or Mrs Spenning, or both of them working together.”
“Papa?”
He shrugged.
Anne sighed and laid the letter down. “Well, let us try to find out where the younger Calcraft has gone, and why. But look, there are more replies. Ah! The vicar is unwell and does not feel he will be recovered in time. Mrs Macauley and her husband are keen to come, of course. I knew they would not stay away. And … well, here is the reply from Mrs Spenning.”
“Open it.”
“I fear she will reject the invitation. I am prolonging the moment, I know,” Anne said. She opened the envelope with a sudden flourish. “And here, yes, I am proved correct. She offers no polite excuse. She simply thanks me, and says that she is unavailable.”
Theodore said, “So, what now for your little scheme?”
“Let me handle this,” Miss Johnson said suddenly.
Adelia stared at her in amazement. The spinster was pale, and her hand was tightly gripping her spoon, but she spoke resolutely. “I am used to stepping in and making things right at the last minute.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Adelia asked.
She didn’t reply. She said, “I shall pay a call upon Mrs Macauley and together we will call upon Mrs Spenning. We will treat her as an equal, as a respected member of society. And I will beg forgiveness for my actions which led to her wrongful arrest.”
Her voice choked as she spoke. Adelia could not tell if Emily believed what she was saying or not. She appeared to be very unhappy about it but she was driven by something, some impulse. Adelia could not fathom what it might be.
But Miss Johnson refused to be drawn into any more conversation that morning, and quickly disappeared to her room, instructing that she was not to be disturbed as she had some sketches to finish, and she would pay her call upon Mrs Macauley later that day.
Adelia and Anne discussed it as soon as they were in Anne’s brightly-lit morning room. Anne sat by the window as if she had to soak up every last drop of the sun the moment it came through the glass. Little Patrick was having a quiet day, sitting on the floor, ordering his toy soldiers into battalions.
“What do you think to Miss Johnson’s announcement this morning?” Adelia said.
Anne had an almost serene look on her face, her eyes half-closed, her face angled to bathe in the warmth of the sun. “I have always known that she is a good person underneath. She has demons that she battles with, that is true. Her personality can be difficult, her emotions running unchecked from time to time. But I know that her outbursts shock her as much as they shock us. I know that she causes herself as much distress as she causes anyone else. And I know that she would be different if she could be.”
“So you are not surprised by her sudden willingness to approach Mrs Spenning, after days and weeks of avowing she is a murderess, and hating her so openly?”
“No. Her wild changes of opinion are part of who she is, dizzying though it can be for the rest of us. And she has done it out of goodness, don’t you see? She is putting aside her enmity, which honestly I do not think has lessened one bit. She is doing the right thing even though it inconveniences her.”
“I suspect an ulterior motive.” She couldn’t tell Anne about what she’d read in the letter. It was agonising.
Anne’s eyes snapped fully open and she spoke sharply now to her mother. “No, mama. She is a good person. She tries to be better. She is making a huge effort. I treat her as I wish to imagine that she is – I treat her as an honest person, and therefore she responds as one. I am not a dupe and I am not stupid nor blind to her faults. But I know her, mama, and she can be trusted.”
Adelia was uneasy but she let the matter drop. Patrick had put his soldiers down and was staring at his mother with concern due to her raised voice and passion. Anne noticed, too, and turned to him, holding out her arms so that he got up unsteadily and toddled over to her. She picked him up and held him on her lap, and spoke over his blond head to Adelia.
“I am so very blessed,” she said. “I have more than I had ever dreamed of, more happiness that I deserve; sometimes life is so very good that I almost cannot bear it.”
“You deserve happiness!”
“And so does everyone. I am no one special, not at all, yet gifted with all this? Dear Emily deserves happiness too.”
“I don’t doubt it but…”
“Good. Then we are agreed.”
They were not agreed, not at all, but Adelia was somewhat stymied by her daughter’s forceful words, and she did not reply.
On the afternoon before the dinner party, Adelia stood morosely in the drawing room, half-heartedly trying to arrange some dried and fresh flowers into a pleasing display. Currently it looked like the gardener had wandered in and dumped a trug of clippings on the table.
The general manservant was taking the role of liveried butler today, a position to which he was hopelessly unsuited. Adelia went around the table and rubbed the water spots from some of the cutlery. Perhaps it was a good thing that the guest list was somewhat depleted now.
For of course, neither Emily Johnson nor Mrs Macauley had had any luck in persuading Mrs Spenning to come to the party. When Miss Johnson had returned from her failed attempt, she looked utterly crushed. Apparently, Mrs Spenning had slammed the door in their faces as soon as they had begun to speak. She had blurted out something like, “I had tried to help you and you had me thrown in jail – I wanted to make amends but I can never forgive that, never!”
Though Mrs Spenning had a point, to be fair.
Adelia now wished that she had gone with Miss Johnson and Mrs Macauley. Was that really all that had been said?
So the guests were simply to be Mr and Mrs Macauley and Mr Edwin Calcraft. Adelia shook her head in despair. It was lucky, then, that the dinner was going to be a rather informal affair. It was more of an intimate meal than a proper, by-the-rules dinner party.
She picked up an impressive hydrangea and all the petals immediately shed themselves in a pile on the table. She sighed and put it down. She’d have to go and fetch a maid, and she headed out of the room to see if anyone was free. For a small evening meal, the whole kitchen had been in a state of emergency since six o’clock that morning, and Anne was overseeing the preparations like an increasingly irate general.
As she crossed the hallway, there was a rapping at the door. Adelia paused. It was not her place to answer it.
But she waited, and waited, and the knock came again, but no servants darted out to attend to it. They were all too busy.
Well, thought Adelia. Someone is going to have a nice surprise to find the door being opened by a countess. The idea amused her and she decided she’d do it herself.
If the caller was surprised to see her, he was still not half as surprised as she was.
She was staring at Archibald Calcraft.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “Is everything quite well? I had been informed – well, your father said …”
“That I had gone away?”
“Yes.”
“I had b
een sent away,” he said, darkly, and shot a glance over his shoulder as if he was nervous about something. “And that is something quite different. Might I come in?”
“Please do!”
He pulled the door closed hastily behind him. “I have some news,” he said.
“We must gather everyone together,” said Adelia.
“Of course. I can wait here.”
Adelia ran off, most unladylike in her rush to find Theodore. She discovered him in the library with Bamfylde, the pair of them looking as morose as she had felt a few minutes previously.
“Come quickly! Archie Calcraft has turned up! He says he was sent away.”
They all barrelled down to the hallway – and found it empty.
“He was here!” Adelia cried in panic. “What’s going on?”
“Perhaps he’s been shown into a room to wait in comfort,” Bamfylde said, rushing from door to door, flinging each open in turn.
“There is no sign of him!”
Their frantic hurting around the hallway finally attracted the attention of a housemaid who peered around a corner, a look of apprehension on her face.
“Did you see a man here?” Theodore ordered.
“Yes, my lord, Mr Calcraft was here.”
“The younger?”
“Yes, my lord. Miss Johnson has gone into the gardens with him.”
“What?” Adelia grabbed Theodore’s arm. “We must go and rescue her!”
“I hardly think he is a killer…”
“Her honour, Theodore, what about her honour!” Adelia cried.
Theodore rolled his eyes, as if the honour of an old spinster wasn’t worth saving, but he followed Adelia and Bamfylde as they ran out into the gardens.
There they were. The handsome soldier and the old maid were walking together, quite openly, across the mossy lawns. They were a decent distance apart, and his hands were clasped behind his back. Both had their heads bowed. This was not a rekindling of their love. This was not a mature flirtation.
Of course, thought Adelia. She stopped on the terraces and watched them approach. Miss Johnson knows, now, that he had not jilted her deliberately. And she knows it wasn’t the act of his father, either. For many long years she had nursed a quite understandable grudge against them.
But have we not seen that her morals, her ethics, drive her passions? She will want to make amends. Somehow. Adelia’s heart, once again, went out to the infuriating and secretive spinster.
It was obvious that the air had been cleared between the pair. They joined Theodore, Adelia and Bamfylde on the terrace. Archie grinned at Bamfylde, a sudden sharing of a similar circumstance – both outcast sons, both now returned to their family homes.
Archie’s expression turned quickly serious as he regarded the rest of them. Miss Johnson took a step backwards, melting away from the main circle.
Adelia extended her hand and beckoned her back. “Please,” she said quietly. “Come.”
Hesitantly, Miss Johnson took two steps forwards, almost joining them but hovering still on the periphery.
Archibald Calcraft began to explain himself.
“I had no intention of leaving this place,” he said. “I have been increasingly worried about my father.” He turned to Theodore. “Sir, I cannot say if he is the murderer or simply unhinged, but there is something wrong. I have looked for evidence, you know, for your cause. I have searched the house and gone through his office when I have had the chance. I had hoped to bring something to you.”
“Something to prove his guilt?” Adelia asked.
“No, rather, I have been desperate to prove his innocence,” Archie said grimly. “I cannot bear the feeling of suspecting my own father of the most heinous crimes. Perhaps I was getting close to something, one way or the other, for suddenly, a few days ago, he ordered me to go to London.”
“On what grounds?”
“Oh, he said he had a shipment arriving that needed overseeing. He said it was coming in at any time. It might be delayed so I was to wait in London until it docked, however long it might take.”
“And it arrived?”
“No. It was a lie. There is no ship with the name that he gave me. I waited and asked and waited and soon discovered, through Lloyd’s and other places, that I would be waiting in vain. I realised that my father simply wanted to get rid of me for a time.”
“But why?”
“That is what I want to know. So I have returned, but secretly.”
“He doesn’t know you’re here?” Theodore asked.
“He does not, and I do not want him to know. I am dreadfully afraid that he is planning something.”
“So are we,” said Theodore. “And we think that it involves fireworks. Mr Calcraft, you must stay here. We shall hide you here at Litton. Do you know that tonight, your father is expected to dine with us?”
Archie laughed. “No, I don’t believe it. He has turned down every invitation for years. He won’t come.”
“Yet he has replied in the affirmative.”
Archie was astonished. “Then there is something far more to it than I can see,” he muttered.
23
Theodore was happy to chat with Mr Macauley as they all gathered by the fire in a parlour before the dinner was to be served. Mrs Macauley was sitting with Anne, Miss Johnson and Adelia. Bernard and Bamfylde joined Theodore and Mr Macauley. They were only now waiting for the arrival of Edwin Calcraft, and then they could proceed into the dining room.
Meanwhile, Archie had been installed out of sight in the library. Bamfylde had encouraged Theodore to bring Archie into the investigation, and Theodore reluctantly agreed. He had left the files and documents on the table and invited the officer to peruse their findings so far. Perhaps he would remember things from his father’s past. Perhaps he knew more about the business dealings.
Perhaps, of course, he was merely a spy, planted in the house by Edwin Calcraft.
But there was nothing in the documents and notes that could help a potential murderer get off the hook so in the end, they decided it was worth the risk that Archie’s arrival had all been an elaborate plot cooked up by Edwin. The files simply contained business information and the details they had been looking at in an effort to find the links between Spenning and Calcraft. Links there were – but nothing to hint at murder.
The clock ticked on. Edwin Calcraft did not appear.
The time given on the invitations came and went.
Theodore’s stomach growled noisily, which made Adelia frown at him. He frowned back. A man couldn’t help it, he thought. It was Calcraft’s fault – where was the chap?
Then Bernard’s stomach rumbled, even more loudly than Theodore’s. The baron slapped his thighs and stood up.
“This is no good,” he said. “He’s not coming. It might be choice, it might be that he’s upside down in a ditch. Either way, those potatoes will wait for no man. My dear, shall we go in?” He offered his arm to Anne.
She stood up and looked flustered. “I don’t know – perhaps we should send someone out to look for him?”
Theodore’s hunger was nearly enough to override his good sense, but he conceded that she had a point. “If there’s someone to spare, then do so.”
“You can’t send a maid out in the dark and the groundsman and his boy have gone home now,” Adelia said. “There’s only the butler.”
“I’ll carve,” said Bernard. “And I am sure the maids can cope with serving a bit of wine. Yes, send him out. He’s useless as a butler anyway. Come along, everyone, my apologies and so on, blah blah – oh yes! Doesn’t that smell terrific!”
It was true. As the dining room door swung open, they were greeted by a wonderful smell of roast meat and vegetables, rich gravy and strong wine, undercut by the lighter fresher notes of the fruit on the table and the hint of soup and fish to start with.
They took their seats. Theodore was keen to eat but he was also uneasy about the absence of Edwin Calcraft.
Mr Macauley
said, “He never goes out anywhere. It was a bit of a stretch to imagine that he would have come here. I suppose you had to invite him out of politeness but don’t take it to heart that he’s not here. I say, have you solved the murder yet? Was it all the work of mad old Calcraft, or was it his widow in the end, after all?”
“Gordon, please,” his wife said, smiling.
“I’m only asking. Everyone knows what they’re up to, don’t they?” he said.
“And that has hampered us somewhat,” said Theodore.
Bernard had already finished his first course. He had barely drawn breath while eating. He put down his cutlery and said, “Well, I always said it was a bit of a shot in the dark, didn’t I? But I’m glad you came. It’s been lovely having you here.”
“But what about Calcraft?”
“Never mind him. It means there is more food for us!”
“That’s not what I meant…”
Bernard simply laughed.
The butler had been sent out into the night. The main course was served in a somewhat haphazard way, though it was all cooked to perfection and no one minded the slight tardiness of the maids.
Theodore was just beginning to feel the edge had been taken off his hunger when the dining room door burst open.
It was Calcraft, but not the one that they had been expecting.
Captain Archie Calcraft stood there, in his shirt and waistcoat, his hair messed up like he had been running his hands through it. Emily Johnson made a little sound like a cat that had been surprised.
He was holding a piece of paper and he shook it in the air.
“It is today!” he cried. “Or rather, it will happen tonight!”
“What do you mean?” Theodore said.
Mr and Mrs Macauley were astonished. “Um, I say, where did he spring from?” Mr Macauley said weakly.
But Archie continued to speak directly to Theodore and Bernard. “I was glancing through all the notes and documents. The charity, the business, the arguments, it’s all as you thought and as I remember it.”