The Body in the Garden

by Katharine Schellman

  THE BODY IN THE GARDEN

  A LILY ADLER MYSTERY

  Katharine Schellman

  For everyone who had the courage to start over. And for Brian, who was there every step of the way.

  CHAPTER 1

  London, 1815

  The empty windows and still curtains were a lie, of course.

  Eyes watched from every nearby house as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of number thirteen, Half Moon Street—residents, some of them, ladies and gentlemen who merited those titles to varying degrees, or the servants who were expected to report what they saw.

  The watchers narrowed their eyes as the carriage door opened and a woman descended.

  The carriage was a shabby piece of equipment—obviously hired, with postboys grubby from hard riding—so they knew she did not have enough money to keep her own stables. But the woman herself was the opposite of shabby—about six and twenty, her coat and hat in the current fashion. And she had rented the house on Half Moon Street. If not the most expensive part of Mayfair, it was also not somewhere a woman frantically counting her pennies could live.

  The postboys, if anyone had asked them, would have added that she tipped very well.

  But when the curious watchers whispered their impressions to each other or shared their judgments over supper, there would be one thing that stood out: she was dressed in lilac and gray, the colors of mourning no longer in its first stages.

  The woman held her hat against the April wind and eyed the house, keeping her expression carefully neutral. She had learned that lesson well in the last two years, and she had no intention of forgetting it now that she was back in London, where endless speculation could arise from the smallest smile or barest frown.

  She was the sort of person who could weather speculation or the curiosity of the neighbors when they eventually came calling. But at the moment, all she wanted was a few more hours of solitude, time to wonder again why she had agreed to come here, to remind herself that she had nowhere else to go.

  The woman took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and mounted the steps just as the butler opened the door. “I am Mrs. Lily Adler. I believe you are expecting me.”

  The butler bowed. “Mrs. Adler. Welcome home.”

  * * *

  “The house came mostly furnished, ma’am, but a few things must still be purchased for the dining room. The drawing room is ready for visitors, though, and we’ve unpacked your books and linens and such.”

  Lily nodded, her hands clenched in her muff. She wasn’t cold, but she didn’t want the housekeeper to see the nervous way they were twisting. “I do not expect to receive many visitors, Mrs. Carstairs. I’ve not lived in London since before I married.”

  She knew she should say something else, something complimentary about the rooms or the furnishings, to the woman who would serve as both her housekeeper and cook. Mrs. Carstairs, light-skinned and plump, was the sort of woman whose motherly face and cozy manners invited friendliness, even from employers. But Lily was too exhausted to think of anything suitable, and though the house was beautifully done up, it did not feel like home. “Will you bring tea, please? I need to rest, but we will speak about management of the household later this evening.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The housekeeper hesitated. “I was terrible sorry to hear about your poor husband, Mrs. Adler. He was a good lad.”

  Lily had to take a deep breath before she could respond. It had been two years, but her chest still clenched almost too tightly to breathe every time she thought about Freddy. “Your sister was his nurse?”

  “Nursed him and Master John—Sir John, I should say.” Mrs. Carstairs shook her head. “Regular pair of scamps they was, pardon my saying so.”

  Lily’s expression softened, though she could not bring herself to smile. “I think you could hardly help saying so, judging by the stories their mother has told me.”

  “Lord, yes. Near drove her distracted, and my sister too.” The housekeeper cleared her throat. “I’ll bring your tea up, Mrs. Adler, and speak with your maid to make sure all your things are brought in proper.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  The housekeeper closed the door, and Lily was left staring around the little sitting room, wondering what she was supposed to do with herself, alone, for an entire spring—and beyond, really, now that Freddy was gone and her carefully planned life had disappeared.

  “First you will drink your tea.” Lily laid off her hat and coat, glad there was no one around to hear. Talking to herself was an embarrassing habit she had developed in the last lonely year. “Then you will go see how Anna is getting along with unpacking. And then …”

  Whatever other plans she might have made were interrupted by her new butler.

  Mr. Carstairs was an imposingly large man, his brown skin so dark it looked almost black. Lily had not expected to have a butler in her new home, but Freddy’s mother, Lady Adler, had insisted, and the husband and wife, together with her own maid Anna, were to make up her household—a small establishment, but respectable for a widow in her circumstances.

  Carstairs had been, Lady Adler had confided, a boxer in his youth, which accounted for the size and muscle that made him unusual in his current profession. “But we do our best not to hold that against him,” she added. “And he has a most quelling effect on visitors when he announces that one is not at home.”

  Now, as he handed Lily a crisp, white card, she wondered when exactly that quelling effect was to appear.

  “I am not seeing anyone today, Carstairs,” she said. The words came out more sternly than she intended, but she had made it clear when she arrived that she did not want visitors. Not yet.

  “I did tell her ladyship that,” Carstairs said gravely. “But she was most insistent.”

  “Her ladyship …?” Lily trailed off as she looked at the name on the card.

  “Shall I tell her ladyship again that you are not at home?” the butler asked.

  “No!” Lily stood, her tiredness forgotten. “I shall go to her at once. And have Mrs. Carstairs bring tea to the drawing room, for two instead of one.”

  “Very good, ma’am.”

  Lily dashed downstairs without waiting for him to leave, not caring what her new staff might think. Bursting into the drawing room, she threw herself at her guest. “Serena!”

  “Are you pleased to see me, then?” Lady Serena Walter asked, laughing as she returned the embrace.

  “Always.” Lily stepped back, trying to regain some sense of propriety as the housekeeper arrived to lay out the tea things. “Thank you, Mrs. Carstairs, I will ring if we need anything further. Will you sit, Serena? Or must you dash off at any moment?”

  “Not any moment, no. Stand back and let me see you.” Serena turned a protesting Lily in a circle. “You do look well, Lily. You might be the only woman who looks at all becoming in half-mourning. Lilac is such a difficult color.”

  “You were frivolous in school, Serena, and you are frivolous still,” Lily said with mock-severity, her anxiety easing.

  Serena only laughed. “Yes, and are you not relieved to find me unchanged?”

  “More than I could ever say,” Lily replied, meaning every word. Serena was clearly happy to see her; perhaps returning to London had been the right choice after all.

  Lady Walter beamed at her friend. Between her sunny expression and her red hair, Serena always seemed to be beaming. She was the sort of woman usually described as a big, handsome girl, whom anyone could call clever without irony.

  “But not,” she had once said, “so beautiful or intelligent that I scare anyone off.”

  “Are you implying that I scare people?” Lily had demanded.

  “Oh, not in looks. You will ne
ver be a beauty,” Serena had replied with cheerful rudeness, and Lily, who knew she fell on the pretty side of average but no better, had not argued with her friend’s assessment. “Though as tall as you are, you do look terribly regal when you come over all cool and disapproving. But no, your brains are what make you terrifying. You are dreadfully bright and never bother hiding it. We shall have to find you someone political to marry.”

  Lily’s newfound cheer faded as she remembered Serena’s almost prophetic words. Freddy had planned to become a member of Parliament, and Lily, always organized and methodical, had loved picturing the tidy path their lives would follow. Then he had fallen ill, and everything had changed.

  “I cannot stay long,” Serena was saying when Lily recalled herself to the present. “I am thrilled to see you, but—”

  “But you must get back to the boys?” Glad to be distracted from her grim thoughts, Lily set about pouring the tea. “Do you still take yours with only milk?”

  “You never forget anything, do you?” Serena asked as she took the cup Lily held out to her. “And yes, the boys returned home today after three weeks with their grandmama in Hampshire. It was mercifully peaceful without them underfoot!”

  “Yes, I am sure you did not miss them at all,” Lily said, knowing not to believe her friend’s glib words. Serena might affect fashionable boredom with motherhood in public, but there was nothing she treasured more. And since she had lost two children—one son stillborn, a daughter dead in infancy from a sudden fever—the two sons Serena had still living were the center of her world.

  “Perhaps I missed them a little,” Serena admitted with a smile.

  “Well, before you dash home to them, you must first tell me how you knew I was in town. I’ve not yet sent around cards.”

  “Oh, I am quite devious. That little dresser of yours—Anna, was it? Such a nice girl—she is cousin to Jeremy, our second footman. She told him that you would arrive today, and he told my dresser, who told me.”

  “How impressive. Shall I soon hear of you taking up a position in the constabulary?”

  “Lord, it would almost be worth it for the fits it would give Lord Walter’s mother. The old bag kept the boys a week longer than expected. I was livid.”

  “Though I imagine Lord Walter was delighted to have you to himself?”

  Serena laughed, blushing prettily. Her husband was several years her senior and doted on his charming young wife. “And that reminds me of one of my reasons for calling.”

  “More reason than just the joy of seeing me?” Lily teased. “Do tell.”

  Serena pulled a card from her muff. “The first is to deliver this and extract your promise that you will attend in spite of the short notice.”

  It was an invitation for a ball that very night. Lily stared at the elegant engraving, then shook her head. “I’ve not yet put off black gloves …”

  “But you are out of full mourning. No one will disapprove, Lily, so long as you do not dance.” Serena looked pleadingly at her friend. “Do say you will come? You cannot miss my first ball of the season.”

  Lily’s hands clenched in her lap. She and Freddy had met in the middle of a cotillion when she was nineteen. They had both been dancing with other partners, but Freddy spent the rest of the set staring at her. Always impossibly romantic, he later said that was the moment he had fallen in love with her.

  But Freddy was gone now, and as empty as life felt at the moment, she still had to find something to do with it—even if, for now, that something was only a ball. “Very well, Lady Walter, you have my promise. I will even arrive unfashionably early, so you shan’t wonder if I have broken my word.”

  “Nonsense. You shall dine with us, en famille, and see how the boys have grown. I think you will scarcely recognize them.”

  “You are kind to offer—”

  “It is pure self-preservation. Lord Walter’s horrid cousin Bernard is visiting. If I have to listen to him explain the art of tying a cravat again, I may end up in Newgate for murder.”

  “Serena, you have often said that a well-tied cravat is the hallmark of a gentleman.”

  “Yes, but Bernard’s is not well tied, so it is dreadful to hear him go on about it.” Serena’s quip made Lily smile, but at the same time she felt a familiar prickle in her eyes. It was such a normal moment, and there had been so few of those in the last two years that she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She tried to blink away the tears quickly, but Serena noticed, and her voice grew softer. “You came to London to get back to living your life. How can you do that if you stay cooped up and alone?”

  “Yes, of course.” Lily took a brisk breath, trying to pull herself together. “You are kind to be so patient with my moodiness.”

  “None of that.” Serena laid a hand on Lily’s arm. “We both know it is not moodiness. I’ve never known anyone so much in love as you and Freddy.”

  “You and Lord Walter—” Lily began.

  “Are very fond of each other and rub along well together,” Serena interrupted gently. “That is not the same thing. I know you miss him dreadfully, and you should. But I also know you, Lily, and you cannot shut yourself away forever.”

  “I know.” Lily squeezed her friend’s hand. “I am glad you came to see me, Serena.”

  “Of course you are. I’m delightful.”

  At that, Lily couldn’t help smiling. “All right then, that was one. What is your other mysterious reason for stopping by?”

  “We may have to wait …” Serena trailed off, her head cocked to the side. “Or perhaps not!” There were voices in the hall. “I think my surprise has just arrived.”

  Carstairs opened the door and bowed. He still looked unruffled, but Lily could hear an edge of uncertainty as he said, “There is a Captain Hartley to see you, madam. He says her ladyship instructed him to come by. Shall I say you are not at home?”

  “Oh!” Lily stood, flustered. “No, show him in.”

  She barely had time to gather her thoughts before Captain John Hartley—Jack, she always thought of him, though of course she had never called him that herself—was bowing in the doorway. “Lady Walter.” His eyes settled on Lily. “Mrs. Adler.”

  “Captain, what …” Lily turned to Serena and, not caring if it was rude, demanded, “You sly thing, however did you manage this?”

  “I told you I am devious. Is it a nice surprise?”

  “Yes.” Lily held out her hands. “It is so good to see you, Captain. Had I known you were in London, I’d have written.”

  “It is good to see you as well, Mrs. Adler,” Captain Hartley said. He took her hands, hesitated a moment, then gave them a quick squeeze before letting go. “And no matter, as Lady Walter has arranged things most efficiently.” Serena laughed, delighted with the praise. “In any case, it would have been nearly impossible for a letter to reach me. I’ve only just returned to town.”

  “I guessed as much,” Lily said. “How is your sister, Captain Hartley?”

  “Good Lord.” He stared at her. “Are you a mind reader, Mrs. Adler?”

  Lily couldn’t quite conceal the amused smile that lifted the corners of her eyes, though she tried not to look smug at his astonishment. “Nothing so dramatic.”

  “Then how the devil—” Jack broke off and grinned. “You know, I once told Freddy I thought you were rather a clever woman. He laughed at me and said I only knew the half of it. So go ahead, Mrs. Adler. Tell me what gave it away.”

  Lily raised her brows, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I keep track of the navy lists, you know, to keep an eye on you. We are engaged in France once more, so a ship like yours should be in the Channel or headed towards the Continent. Yet here you are in London, which means your frigate must be ashore. Repairs, I assume? In any case, your travel cannot have been military in nature. That leads one to suspect a family visit. Freddy mentioned that you have visited your relatives in the East Indies before, but that would have been far too long a voyage for wartime l
eave. Had you been in Hertfordshire with your parents, you would have called on the Adlers, which I know you did not since I have just come from them. From the lilt in your speech, I would say you have been in the north. And your sister, as I remember, lives with her husband and children in Derbyshire.”

  “Extraordinary.” Jack shook his head admiringly. “I see Freddy was not exaggerating.”

  “She is rather marvelous, isn’t she?” Serena said as she gathered up her furs. “And with that, I must show myself out. I shall see you both at seven o’clock?” With a final bright smile, she swept out of the room, leaving Jack looking bemused and Lily shaking her head. Serena loved a dramatic exit.

  There was an awkward pause before Lily said, “I was not aware that you and Lady Walter were acquainted.”

  Jack grinned, an endearingly lopsided expression. “Just met her yesterday. Your friend cornered me on Bond Street, though how she found me is anyone’s guess. Claimed an introduction and informed me that I would be attending her ball tonight. Refusal was clearly not an option.”

  “It never is. And I am glad of it.” Lily sat, gesturing for him to do the same.

  He did so hesitantly. “I was not sure you would be. Not after …”

  “Captain, you were at sea when Freddy died. There was no possible way for you to be at the funeral.” Lily’s voice caught as she spoke, but she meant every word. Jack and Freddy had grown up together, inseparable until the day Jack left for the navy. And even then, they had stayed as close as brothers. She remembered dancing with him on her wedding day, the way he had teased her as comfortably as if they had grown up together too. That, she thought, was what happened when you loved someone like Freddy—you couldn’t help caring for the people he loved as well.

  “Terrible all the same, missing Freddy’s final service.”

  “Wars have never been known for their convenience.”

  “No.”

  For a moment they were both quiet, the silence heavy but not awkward. Lily stared at the tea service, now grown cold. Nothing had seemed real the day Freddy was buried, and her eyes had been dry as she watched the gravediggers lower his coffin into the ground. Her father had complimented her on her composure. It had taken all her willpower not to slap him.