The Secret of Hollyfield House

by Jude Bayton

  “Jillian.” His tone was flat. “This is not a good time. I beg you leave. I have much to attend to.”

  “Please, Dominic,” I implored. “Allow me to come inside. I have heard the terrible news and would help in some way if I could.” Reluctantly he left the door standing open, turned and walked down the hall. I followed him inside.

  In the kitchen he took a seat at the table, rested his elbows on its surface and buried his face into his hands. My heart grieved for him. I went to the hob and placed a kettle on to boil. My eyes scoured the area, and within a few minutes, I had cut a thick slice of bread and cheese and made a steaming mug of sweet tea, both of which I placed before him, though he paid no heed to my actions.

  I sat in the chair beside him and gently pulled one hand away to grasp it in my own. He looked at me. The light in his eyes was gone, replaced by hollow anguish which pierced my soul. The poor man was wretched. Again, I felt such empathy, such sorrow for his plight.

  “Dominic, I know you have no appetite,” I said gesturing to the plate. “But you must stay strong for your brother. Starving will not help him one whit.”

  He nodded and pulled the food towards him, breaking pieces off and chewing them slowly.

  “You are in shock, though I know little about it other than what Marabelle Pike shared when I was at Hollyfield, just now. What I do know is you cannot lose yourself in despair. It will serve Billy no aid whatsoever. You must take nourishment and remain clear-headed. ’Tis the only way to get to the bottom of this mess.” I took a deep breath. “And I am here to help in any way I can assist you.”

  He swallowed and then took a sip of tea. “Thank you, Jillian. I am sorry for my manners and being so abrupt. They took Billy in the early hours of the morning, and I have been up since then, worried sick.”

  “Tell me what has happened,” I urged. “Why do they accuse Billy?”

  “It was his knife,” Dominic said softly. “The blade which killed Flynn was my brother’s.”

  “Are they sure?” To my mind, one knife looked much like another.

  “Yes, they are certain. It is distinctive as it bears our family crest carved into the handle. The head of a wolf. It was my father’s, and Billy always keeps it on him.”

  “What did Billy say when the constable came? Did he deny what had happened?”

  “Not exactly.” He drank more tea. “He became confused and started to cry. He was terrified.”

  I could only imagine. A level-headed person would find it distressing enough to be arrested, but a boy like Billy?

  “They handcuffed him and took him away, and he just kept shouting out my name to help him. I followed them outside, and as they put him in the wagon, he said ‘I lost my knife, Dom, I lost it’, as they drove off.” He pushed away his plate as though disgusted by food being close to him. “I will never forget the sheer terror on his face.” He looked at me, and his eyes were dark as pitch. The chair scraped noisily as he rose to his feet. I stood quickly. Boldly I went to him and wrapped both of my arms around his shoulders. I could not bear to see him so distraught and broken. All I could offer was the comforting touch of another human being. We stood motionless for a time, and then he pulled away. He went to the kitchen window and stared out through the glass.

  I remained where I was, allowing him some distance. When he turned to face me, his expression had changed completely. Gone was the drawn, beaten visage he had shown moments earlier. Instead, his jaw was firmer, his gaze hard and determined. He ran his fingers roughly through his tousled dark hair.

  “I will clean up, and then I am going to the post office.”

  “Whatever for?”

  He came towards me and stopped a hair’s breadth from my face. “I must send a telegram to Victor LaVelle. I shall ask for his help.”

  I must have shown my surprise at his words.

  He explained, “Victor has been good to my family for many years. I shall need sound legal advice to sort out this almighty mess. He is the only person I know with those resources.”

  I was both concerned and worried Dominic was on a fool’s errand. His brother was charged with murder—surely no amount of legal help could change that? But I held my tongue, relieved to see the spark back in his eyes, hear the conviction in his voice.

  “Go home to your uncle, Jillian. I must ready myself and take care of this business. I will stop by and see you and the professor, later today.”

  I did not want to go. In the course of one morning, it was as though an indescribable bond had taken root between us. I had seen him at his most vulnerable, and in that precise moment, something inside me had changed. For now, Dominic was no longer disparaged. He was devising a plan of action, and therefore his focus had returned. He needed no distraction.

  “I shall go, Dominic. But please do come by later and let us know how you fare.” I yearned to reach out and touch his arm but resisted the impulse. His mind was on far more critical issues than me.

  I ARRIVED HOME TO FIND MRS Stackpoole ensconced in the study with Uncle Jasper.

  “I thought you’d be back early,” Uncle commented as I joined them.

  “How did you know?”

  “’Twas me,” Mrs Stackpoole interjected. “For I’m not long back from Kendal and have told Jasper what happened during the wee hours.” She shook her head in disgust. “What a to-do. How could that Billy Wolfe do something so wicked?”

  Uncle Jasper sipped his tea. “’Tis a shocking turn of events, to say the least.”

  “You are both very quick to believe all you hear.” I could not keep the irritation from my voice. Two grey heads snapped up and my uncle and our housekeeper looked at me with surprise. I cared not.

  “Having known Billy Wolfe for many years, I am surprised you condemn him without questioning the findings?”

  Uncle Jasper frowned. “’Tis hard not to, Jilly, when the boy owns the murder weapon.”

  “Yes, my dear,” agreed Mrs Stackpoole. “Evidence is evidence. At least that’s what my Ruby’s husband says, an’ he would know—he is a constable. Sidney had it straight from the Chief Inspector’s mouth. ’Twas Billy’s knife found in the bushes by Miss LaVelle an’ one of the staff at Hollyfield, not ten yards from where the body was left.”

  “How strange it is only just now discovered, though a thorough search was made the day the body was found. Does it not occur to you that Billy would have removed the weapon, or at least hidden it, or thrown it into the lake to conceal his guilt?” I asked

  “Fair points, Jilly.” Uncle Jasper agreed. “Except when searching, it would be easy enough to miss the object with all the new growth of grasses and such. As for the disposal of the knife, your regular criminal type would have the wherewithal to be devious enough to do just that. But Billy, as you know, is not your typical young man. I doubt it would even occur to him to hide the knife.”

  “Yet you are ready to believe it would occur to him to stab a man to death in cold blood?” I was curt yet cared not. Why was I so quick to defend Billy Wolfe? Was I being fair giving him the benefit of the doubt, or was it because of my interest in his brother, Dominic? I pushed the notion away with distaste. I could not countenance the idea of the boy doing something so evil.

  “You seem extremely sensitive to his situation, Jilly. May I ask why?” Uncle Jasper peered over his spectacles in inquiry.

  I shrugged. “I stopped at Wolfe Farm on my way home. I was concerned for Dominic.” I felt no shame in my actions, nor did I care if I breached proprietary.

  “I see. How did you find him?”

  “Overwrought, tired, scared at the prospect of what might happen to his brother. Dominic cannot believe Billy capable of killing anyone or anything, for that matter.”

  “Well now, he would think that being family,” Mrs Stackpoole announced. “Only natural to defend your own. Why I remember—”

  “He believes Billy to be innocent and intends to prove it.” I snapped. “Dominic has not been able to speak with his brother yet
, but he will, and then he can make some sense of it all.”

  Uncle Jasper nodded solemnly. “Jilly, you are right. Mrs Stackpoole and I should not jump to conclusions without knowing the entire story.” He glanced at the older woman, who did not appear to echo his sentiments based upon the expression on her face. “You are correct in recognizing that a person is indeed innocent until proven guilty. Therefore,” he rose from the chair. “I shall not discuss young Billy until I have more information. ’Tis for the law to determine the outcome.”

  Mrs Stackpoole placed her cup on the table and stood. “You think what you like, Professor. But mark my words. That boy lost his temper an’ killed Jareth Flynn. Sidney says people afflicted like Billy Wolfe are touched in the head. They don’t understand right from wrong, nor good from bad. Not out of wickedness, but because they are born idiots.”

  My sharp intake of breath stopped her before she went further. Uncle Jasper glowered at me not to speak, and I held my tongue until she had left the room. I let out a gasp of derision.

  “Why are people so discriminating of others, Uncle? Billy is no imbecile. He is stricken with a condition he was born with. Of course, he faces challenges we do not understand. But that does not make him an idiot, and I find it offensive when he is referred to as one.”

  Uncle Jasper came to stand by me and placed an arm about my shoulders. I sat where I was and leaned my head against his side. “I am sorry, Uncle. I do not mean to sound so angry.”

  “Don’t apologise, Jilly. It is a terrible thing which has taken place in our little village. You have spent time with Dominic, who is understandably torn up with anxiety about his brother. ’Tis no wonder you feel strongly. You are upset, and justifiably I might add.”

  He moved away, and I got to my feet. As I went to the doorway Uncle Jasper took my place at his desk.

  “Jilly, perhaps we should ask Dominic to join us for dinner today. He might need some company.”

  “He plans to come by later, Uncle. I am unsure of when, but it will be after he sends his telegram.”

  “Telegram?”

  “Yes,” I said. “He requests Victor LaVelle’s help to prove his brother’s innocence.”

  “Well now.” Uncle Jasper was pensive. “That should put the cat among the pigeons.”

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, DOMINIC stopped by our house. He spent more than an hour behind closed doors with my uncle in the study. Mrs Stackpoole took them refreshment and a sandwich, but I abstained from joining them. I determined Uncle Jasper might offer better guidance without me in the way.

  Later, I heard the study door open, and Dominic came into the kitchen. His face was still drawn and worried, but his expression conveyed fortitude and purpose, not the defeatism and concern which I had witnessed earlier that day. I was relieved to see him thus. I understood it would take courage for him to engage in the legal battle that might ensue. He would need all his reserve of strength.

  He stood close. “Jillian, thank you for coming to see me earlier. It was good of you.” He reached for one of my hands and held it gently. “I was all at sea with what to do. Your visit anchored me so I could make a plan and go forward.”

  I smiled, and my heart swelled. My hand in his seemed to know it was in the right place. “Uncle Jasper and I are here to help in any way we can. You have only to speak, and we shall be there.”

  “Thank you,” he said earnestly, and his eyes warmed. “A telegram is on its way to Victor LaVelle and I have high hopes he will be here by tomorrow evening. Then I shall consult with him and decide what road we must take.” The muscle in his jaw worked. Even in his state of unrest and worry, I was again struck how handsome Dominic was. I chased the thought from my head. It seemed wildly inappropriate to think so foolishly when his world was caving in.

  “If I might offer some advice,” I said. “You are powerless until Mr LaVelle arrives, and it would be prudent to get rest and nourishment for the long days ahead. You will benefit and be far better prepared. Go home, try to sleep, and come back here if you have need of company or food. You will be no help to your brother should you fall ill with exhaustion.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Are you always so wise?”

  I smiled weakly. “Unfortunately, no. But I do understand hardships are impossible to overcome when your mind is weak from lack of rest.”

  “Then I shall take your advice.” With that, he squeezed my hand and left. As soon as the front door closed, I went to my uncle’s study.

  “Has he gone, Jilly?”

  “Yes.”

  Uncle Jasper shook his head, took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. “This is a terrible business indeed. Young Billy is in an atrocious mess. Lord knows it would be bad enough if he were like you or me, but in his condition—it is a nightmare. Dominic says the boy is frightened out of his wits and does not understand what is going on. The Wolfe brothers have a difficult road ahead of them.”

  I went to stand before the desk. “What about the man they first arrested? Has he been released?”

  “Yes. According to Dominic, the fellow had a legitimate alibi. He was in Cartmel Village the night of the murder. There were many witnesses who saw him in a fist fight with another gambler. Apparently, it was that chap’s blood, not Flynn’s, all over his clothes. Anyway, they have let him go.”

  I considered this. What a terrible predicament Billy Wolfe was in. “Do you think Mr LaVelle will be able to assist the Wolfe brothers. Or even want to?”

  Uncle replaced his glasses. “Hmm. I believe he will. The Wolfe family has strong ties to the LaVelles. According to Dominic, Victor has the reputation of a fair and just man. He was not always wealthy and is known for his benevolence to those in need. I’ll warrant he’ll help secure a solicitor and barrister to represent the boy, at the very least.”

  I pondered his words and then looked at my uncle. “Do you honestly think Billy capable of killing someone?”

  “Jilly,” Uncle Jasper said quietly. “If there is one thing I have learned about the human race, it is that when necessary, we are all capable of doing anything.”

  Chapter Nine

  MRS STACKPOOLE FLEW INTO the kitchen after lunch the next day while I was working, and Uncle Jasper was reading and sipping a cup of tea. Her chubby face bore two distinct red spots on her cheeks, and her ample bosom heaved with excitement. I stopped reading to see what was amiss. Even my uncle put down his newspaper and looked up.

  “Lord a’mercy the village is agog with gossip.” She set her shopping basket on the kitchen table.

  “Prunella, have a seat, you are quite breathless,” Uncle Jasper said.

  I turned my face to hide the astonishment. When had my uncle become familiar enough to be on first name terms with our housekeeper?

  Mrs Stackpoole sank onto a chair. I fetched her a glass of water which she gratefully accepted and took several unladylike gulps. Her hazel eyes glittered.

  “What do you think? Mr Victor LaVelle has arrived this very day from London.” She searched our faces for some recognition of shock or surprise. “It is said he’s come to aid Billy Wolfe’s plight, though why, no one knows. I had it from Mr Bonfield, the postmaster, that Dominic Wolfe sent a telegram askin’ Mr LaVelle to come immediately. He’s got some nerve; I’ll give him that. How can a farmer, ask an important and rich man like Mr LaVelle, to drop everythin’ and come to the rescue of his brother.” She shook her head, and her chin wobbled.

  I glanced at my uncle. His expression was unreadable. He did not seem to think it unusual at all. It gave me pause for thought. Why would he be in the minority when the residents of Ambleside found Dominic’s actions audacious?

  I shrugged. “Considering the Wolfe family have a long relationship with Hollyfield House, who are we to know the extent of their friendship?”

  “Yes, Miss Jilly, but they are of different classes. ’Tis not as if the families ever meet socially. The Wolfes are employed by the LaVelles,” she insisted.

  “And there you have it.” Un
cle Jasper joined the conversation. “’Tis as his employer that Victor LaVelle graces us with his presence. And glad I am to hear it too. If you ask me, the boy will not have a fair trial without someone with power and money in his corner.” He rose from the table, picked up his newspaper and tucked it under his arm. “And now I must away to my study. Mrs S., why don’t you join me for a sip of sherry? Under the circumstances, I believe it might be medicinal.”

  Mrs Stackpoole was on her feet before he had completed his sentence. With newfound energy, she followed Uncle Jasper out of the kitchen, while I stood rooted to the floor with my mouth open. What on earth was going on between the two of them?

  IT WAS A STRANGE DAY. I WORKED, but it took every ounce of my willpower to remain focused. How could I concentrate? The workings of a mushroom’s gills were of no interest to me when a boy’s life was at stake. Yet I pushed myself along. These notes were important to my uncle, and at present there was naught I could do to help the Wolfe brothers.

  I was relieved Dominic would now have the guidance of Mr LaVelle. Surely his influence would carry some weight in the matter. Time would tell.

  I looked up as Uncle Jasper came in through the back door. He had been on an errand to the village. He took off his hat and placed it on a hook. His face was pale, his expression grim.

  “What is it?” I asked, already getting to my feet. “Does something ail you?” I fought off the panic rising. I had lost my mother so recently and I could not bear to think of losing another. Uncle Jasper held out a hand.

  “I am fine, Jilly. Do not concern yourself. I have just heard disturbing news, and that is what shocks me.”

  I went to him immediately and tugged his arm. “Then sit yourself down and let me make you a hot drink.” I went to the stove.

  “No, Jilly. ’Tis not necessary.” But he sat at the table and gave a mighty sigh. “I have just seen Constable Bloom, not five minutes hence. He has been out at Wolfe Farm, searching through Billy’s room.”

  My hand froze over the kettle. I turned around. “What has happened?”