The Hazardous Measure of Love: Time Into Time Book Five

by Louise Allen

  There was a definite drift of the family members towards a far door, I noticed. Various people who I had identified as neighbours were making their farewells and leaving. Time for the will to be read.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexander Prescott walked over, spoke to Luc, and together they moved towards that inner door. Lady Radcliffe strolled across to me, took my arm and said in her carrying whisper, ‘Come and help me, dear. I have torn the lace on my petticoat.’ I followed her through a different door that took us into the hall. The footmen were all busily seeing out the neighbours and we were up the stairs before anyone noticed us.

  ‘They have gone into the ballroom,’ she told me. ‘I attended a dance here once and there is a balcony overlooking it. This way, I think… Ah yes, here we are. Ssh!’ She put a finger to her lips and we tiptoed in and found an upholstered bench in the shadows, a little way back from the parapet. Even if anyone looked up, they wouldn’t see us, but we had a good view of the room and were close above the table where a balding man was shuffling a pile of papers being handed to him one by one by a younger man. The family solicitors, I assumed.

  They sat, the room beneath filled up and, with a great deal of whispering and the sound of chair legs being scraped over parquet, people settled down.

  It was a large family with a considerable number of servants who had clearly been told to attend so they could hear of the bequests made to them. I counted the heads of over twenty people with, seated at the front, a frail, grey-haired figure, wrapped in rugs and with a manservant hovering attentively by his side – the new Viscount, presumably.

  Gradually silence fell. The older solicitor cleared his throat, then, somewhere out of sight below us, the door opened again. He paused, stared in the direction of the disturbance and then stood up.

  ‘I believe you are unaware that this is a private gathering for the family, sir.’

  Heads turned and a man came into sight: tall, dark, slim. ‘Indeed. And I am one of them, sir.’

  There was an audible gasp and, as he moved even further forward, then sat, I saw why. He looked like a black-haired version of Adrien – if Adrien had possessed a complexion like dark honey.

  ‘I was right,’ I hissed to Lady Radcliffe. ‘Colonel Archibald had a son!’ Frankly, I was so stunned that my frivolous invention had come true that it was a miracle that I could articulate at all.

  ‘Perhaps you could identify yourself.’ The senior lawyer sounded warily disapproving.

  ‘Of course. I am Inish Archibald Prescott Kumar, son of Archibald Prescott.’ As the murmurs rose in volume, he added. ‘But not a legitimate son, as I am sure everyone here will be delighted to hear. However, I wish to pay my respects to my deceased cousin and to express my condolences to the family.’ There was the sound of a number of people taking a sharp breath. Then he added, ‘And, of course, I have some business to transact.’

  ‘They will have him thrown out,’ Lady Radcliffe whispered.

  But it seemed the Prescotts were either unable to think of what to do, or were more tolerant than we had given them credit for. After a moment Alexander stood up. ‘Kindly take a seat, sir. Mr Blundell, please continue.’

  The solicitor went thought the paper-shuffling, throat-clearing exercise again and began. ‘My lords, ladies, gentlemen. I shall commence with the legacies to the staff, who may then leave us.’ He ploughed through seemingly endless small bequests, some pensions and various gifts of personal items.

  I tried to pay attention and note down anything that might possibly have been an excuse for murder, whilst trying not to speculate about the presence of the Colonel’s son. Illegitimate, yes, but could there be anything he had a claim to?

  The staff filed out and the lawyer moved on to family legacies. I could see nothing worth noting in the first part of the bequests. Most of the land, and the houses and other buildings attached to it, were entailed and would pass automatically to the next viscount along with their contents and appurtenances – those things naturally belonging to them.

  All Henry’s cousins “legitimately fathered” received a very generous three thousand pounds each, as did Miss Jordan.

  Henry had given instructions for his interment in the family vault and left money for mourning jewellery to be distributed to his uncles and cousins.

  The solicitor did some more throat-clearing. ‘There is a codicil to the will dated the Saturday of Lord Tillingham’s death. It contains two clauses. He has left an estate called Waters End to Adrien Prescott, In appreciation of his tireless and loyal labours on my behalf. In addition, the estate and accumulated income held in trust since the decease of the late Colonel Archibald Percival de Vere Prescott are to be released and surrendered to his natural born son Inish Archibald Prescott Kumar on production of satisfactory proofs that he, the said Inish Archibald Prescott Kumar, was fathered by the said Colonel Archibald Percival de Vere Prescott. In the absence of such proofs being forthcoming within seven years of the decease of the said Colonel Archibald Percival de Vere Prescott the said estates and income are to be incorporated into the entailed estate.’ He turned his head towards where the latecomer was sitting. ‘This, I assume, is the business to which you refer, sir.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘And you have such proofs?’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘In that case I believe I need not trouble the majority of the gathering further. My lord.’ He bowed towards the frail figure in its huddle of rugs,’ I suggest that you and I and Mr Kumar retire to the study.’

  ‘Alexander.’ The voice was a thready wheeze. ‘Alexander and that lad of yours, Adrien. You come too.’

  People stood and moved towards the doors. I saw Alexander stoop over his older brother, talking urgently, then gesture to Luc who came forward with Adrien. Between them they got the invalid to his feet and went slowly out, Inish Kumar behind them.

  Bugger, I thought. There was no way I was going to be able to eavesdrop on that. ‘I suppose we had best go down and see what people are talking about,’ I said.

  Unless anyone was in such dire need of three thousand pounds and a black enamel ring containing a dead man’s hair that they were prepared to kill for it, that left only Adrien with a very significant inheritance – assuming Waters End wasn’t some run-down smallholding.

  It turned out that the will itself was more or less what everyone had expected, except that the size of the bequests was a pleasant surprise. Nobody, it seemed, had expected to gain any land by it and Adrien’s brothers and the three sons of Horace Prescott were managing to be fairly sporting about his legacy. He must have made a very favourable impression on his late cousin, I realised because he had not been long in his employ when the codicil was written.

  I located Jerald, as the only one I was even vaguely acquainted with, and asked him bluntly what he thought of the will. ‘I’m glad of the money,’ he said, equally bluntly, although I thought he looked ill at ease, almost sickly.

  ‘Are you unwell? Come and sit down.’

  ‘No. No, I am…’ He moved slightly, so that my hand, which I had laid on his forearm, slid away. ‘Just, never expected him to leave me anything, you know. And that was a bit of a facer. Makes it seem more real, you know.’

  I guessed that, after thoughtlessly regarding his cousin as a source of money, he had been shocked out of his selfishness by the bequest.

  ‘What about the Colonel’s son?’ I asked, changing the subject somewhat.

  ‘That’s a turn-up for the books!’ As I hoped, he perked up at the change of subject, although he still looked rather pale. Hung-over, perhaps. ‘First I knew about it, but it won’t affect most of us and, after all, Uncle Alexander ought to be pretty relieved the fellow’s from the wrong side of the blanket, otherwise he’d be the heir, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Will anyone be upset because Mr Kumar has an Indian mother?’ I asked.

  Jerald shrugged. ‘Shouldn’t think so. The fellow sounds like a gentleman and the East India Company’s full
of fellows who’ve married out there, or their sons. I could name half a dozen titled families who’ve got part-Indian relatives.’

  That was a relief and confirmed what Luc had said. I hadn’t been sure I was going to be able to bite my tongue if any of the Prescotts went off on a racist rant.

  Out the corner of my eyes I noticed movement and looked across to where Miss Jordan was beginning to stand up. Her mother had her hand on her arm as though to detain her, but she looked determined. And very pale. It seemed the reading of the will had brought the family tragedy close to everyone in a way that, oddly, the funeral had not.

  Arabella began to walk across the room towards me, then she swayed and crumpled to the ground. There was a rush of young men to help her and I wondered cynically if her newly-inherited three thousand pounds was a tempting addition to her dowry for the unmarried Prescott sons.

  I wriggled my way past them. ‘Stand back and give her some air, for goodness sake.’

  They backed off and I knelt beside her. She was already coming round and I put an arm behind her and sat her up. ‘Lean forward, don’t try and stand yet.’ I looked up at the circle of young men. ‘Shoo.’

  They shooed, with Jerald urging them back. ‘What was it?’ I asked her when her colour was slightly better. ‘You were coming over to speak to me, I think.’

  ‘No, not – . I mean… I… I don’t recall. It is so crowded and hot and I just want to go home.’

  Her mother had secured a glass of water and joined us. ‘Take a sip, dear. Do you need the smelling salts?’

  ‘Shall I send for a maid to help Miss Jordan to her room?’ I asked her and she nodded distractedly, so I found a footman and retired to a quiet corner behind a vast potted fern. The nineteenth century’s enthusiasm for large indoor plants was quite helpful, as I had found on several occasions.

  And I was not the only one. There was a rustling on the other side of my green barricade. I peered through the fronds and saw it was Jerald’s brothers, Percy and George, although I was not too sure which was which.

  ‘I’m the oldest,’ one said in a heated whisper. That must be Percy.

  ‘I shouldn’t think she wants to look at another Prescott,’ the other one said gloomily.

  ‘I suppose we can hardly blame her, George. And it would be like marrying one’s sister, damn it. I mean, we grew up together. Even so…’

  ‘Even so, she wasn’t a pretty thing with a good solid dowry then,’ his brother said.

  ‘True,’ George said. ‘She never seemed very happy about marrying Cousin Henry, did she?’

  ‘Dull old stick. One of us would be more fun, but we’ve no title, have we?’

  ‘Don’t think she was ever worried about that, whatever her parents wanted. Never said anything, but I found her crying, the day after it was announced. Wouldn’t say why, though.’

  Silence. Then, ‘You don’t think she – No. No, that’s ridiculous. Arabella wouldn’t…’

  ‘It must have been someone he trusted, though,’ George said slowly. ‘He wouldn’t have been on his guard against a woman.’

  ‘You can’t talk about a lady like that,’ Percy protested. ‘And certainly not a friend of ours.’

  ‘You’re right.’ There was some shuffling of feet, then the pair of them got up and wandered back into the room.

  My head was spinning. Obviously I didn’t know the young men, but they had sounded decidedly uncomfortable to me, even more uncomfortable than the awkward and tragic subject matter warranted.

  Could they really believe Arabella Jordan had killed her betrothed when she could have simply jilted him? Could either of them have killed their cousin in order to marry Arabella? I needed to talk things through with the others.

  I located Lady Radcliffe and James. James rolled his eyes at me and, while his mother would never do such a thing, I thought she too had had quite enough of the Prescotts and their wake. Mercifully, footmen were circulating with trays of something alcoholic and we downed two each in rapid succession.

  By the time Luc appeared we were struggling to look appropriately sombre – let alone sober.

  ‘Come on, I want to get out of these clothes,’ he muttered, running a finger around his high collar.

  We said our farewells, shook hands with at least a dozen people, and finally escaped to the privacy of our carriage.

  ‘That was very strange,’ James said. ‘Is anyone sorry the poor devil is dead?’

  ‘Adrien is. He liked him,’ I offered.

  ‘He respected him,’ Luc corrected. ‘I don’t think he had any feelings of actual affection for him. I suspect that was also the case with Adrien’s father, Alexander.’

  I agreed with that. ‘I think that the respect came from his sense of duty to the head of the family, rather than personally. I have no clue about whether he was actually fond of his nephew or not. In any case, he would be a saint not to be pleased about how this benefits his family. I spoke to his eldest son’s wife and I can see she is counting the days until Doctor Prescott dies. I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes if he decides to marry.’

  Luc snorted. ‘Having met him, I cannot see him doing that for a moment. The man is furious that all this nonsense – by which I understand him to mean his inheritance of the title, rather than his nephew’s death – is dragging him away from his comfortable den in his college. But you can allow him his reluctance to take on the endless decisions that are being asked of him: the poor devil is dying by inches and I doubt he’ll last the year. If you are suggesting that he takes some young woman to his bed to produce an heir, I should say that even the thought would finish him off.’

  ‘I am waiting to hear more about that intriguing young man from India,’ Lady Radcliffe said, dispensing a mother’s glare of disapproval between her sons who were both smirking.

  ‘He is what he appears to be,’ Luc said. ‘The likeness to the other men in the family is very pronounced and he makes no bones about his parents not marrying. He has paperwork from the priest in charge of St John’s cathedral in Calcutta where he was baptised and letters from various East India Company officials who are his employers. They required family documentation before taking him on. His father left instructions with his will that the small estate he owned in County Durham should go to Inish and left it in the trust of his brother Clarence – the father of our murdered man – until his son could come and claim his inheritance.’

  ‘So why did the rest of the family not know?’ James said, frowning. ‘Surely Archibald’s will was read when it reached England? Presumably the army sent back his possessions.’

  ‘I asked that. Apparently the instruction was not in the actual will, but in a letter accompanying it. It was not read out because of offending the ladies with mention of an illegitimate child.’

  His mother gave a very unladylike snort.

  ‘Quite. The Viscount knew and Henry, as the heir, also knew, but they were the only ones.’

  ‘Durham? That seems strange, given that all the family estates are here on the Buckinghamshire-Hertfordshire border,’ I said.

  ‘Probably an investment purchase of the Colonel’s,’ Luc suggested. ‘He may well have employed an agent in this country and instructed him to find something and he identified a bargain. I have property scattered all over England.’

  ‘Oh. I had wondered if he was putting distance between himself and the rest of the family.’

  * * *

  We got back and revived ourselves with tea, a mug of ale or a glass of brandy, depending on how desperate we were feeling, heard about the boys’ adventures of discovery and listened to Cook’s list of complaints about the horrors of the kitchen. Then Luc, James and I sat around the evidence boards and added what we had discovered.

  ‘I’ll amend the entry on the list of suspects for the unknown son of the Colonel to name Mr Kumar, although I do not know what his motive might be or how he could know about the ease of access through the study window.’ I did some crossing out, added a note and s
tood back, sucking my pencil.

  ‘The legacies did not appear to offer any clues,’ James observed.

  ‘No. The most junior set of cousins, Horace’s sons, are interested in Miss Jordan, especially now she has had her dowry boosted. Not Jerald though; he did not seem anxious to start courting her. Perhaps, being nearer her age, he still thinks of her as the playmate of their childhood. Talking of Jerald,’ I added. ‘He seemed more upset after the will was read than before it. He looked positively unwell, I thought. I wondered if the reality of it all had finally got through to him.’

  ‘He cannot have expected a bigger sum, surely?’ James said. ‘They all appeared pleasantly surprised – ’ He broke off at the sound of someone arriving and the rumble of a distinctive voice. ‘That’s Garrick.’

  It was. He came in dressed for riding, hat still on his head, whip in his hand, and said, ‘I’ve been chasing Campbell and I’ve just lost the bastard. Apologies, Cassie, I didn’t see you.’ He took off his hat, but kept it in his hand.

  I waved the apology aside. ‘Campbell? Oh, the dismissed footman. Why are you chasing him?’

  ‘Because he’s running,’ Garrick said with a wolfish grin.

  I couldn’t say I blamed Campbell. Garrick advancing on you with grim purpose would be enough to spook anyone, and I would guess that he has the same instincts as a cat – if it runs, chase it.

  ‘I tracked him down through one of the agencies. They were supercilious about him because of the lack of a character from his last employer, but they said they kept him on in case anyone wanted an experienced man cheaply. I went to his lodgings, he opened the door, took one look, slammed it in my face and by the time I got in he was out of a window,’ Garrick said, straightening his back with a grimace.

  ‘He hailed a hackney carriage and, as luck would have it, there wasn’t another to be seen, so I ran. Lost him of course. Then I had a stroke of luck – the cab horse was a piebald and there aren’t so many of those around and I saw the hackney half an hour later as I was quartering the streets. He’d been dropped off at a livery stables and they gave me the name.