Death Comes to the Nursery

by Catherine Lloyd

  While this discussion occurred, Lucy got out of the other side of the carriage by herself, as did Anna. She went around to take Ned’s other hand.

  “I have your picture here, Ned. Don’t you want to give it to your grandfather and wish him a happy birthday?”

  “Yes!” Ned lunged toward the path. “Come on!”

  Lucy was still smiling as they were ushered into the house and discarded their cloaks and hats in the hallway. She could already hear her father holding forth in the drawing room, his loud, jovial tone, which he used to drown out his congregation, was hard to miss.

  She let go of Ned’s hand as they entered the room, as did Robert, and watched as her son, who had no fear of his rather fierce grandfather, ran straight over to him.

  “Happy Birthday, Grandfather!” Ned grinned up at his relative. “Papa says you are one hundred and two!”

  Lucy glanced over at Robert, who shrugged innocently.

  “Not quite, young man.” The rector didn’t take offense. “What have you brought me?”

  Ned handed him the rolled-up piece of paper and hopped impatiently from one foot to the other as his grandfather slowly revealed his drawing.

  “It’s Apollo! Your horse!” Ned said.

  “By Jove, so it is!” He looked over at Lucy. “This is remarkably detailed. Did he sneak into my stables and draw my favorite horse by eye, or did he do this by himself?”

  “From memory, sir, I believe.” Robert came to stand beside Ned and dropped an affectionate hand on his shoulder. “He certainly refused to take any advice from me.”

  “It is perfect, Ned.” The rector looked down at his grandson, delight shining in his eyes. “I will have it framed and put up in my study. Thank you.”

  Ned’s grin was so huge that Lucy couldn’t help but smile back at him. She proffered her own parcel.

  “Happy Birthday, Father.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” He undid the string and brown paper and considered the slim volume within. “Oh my word! Wherever did you find this?”

  “In an antiquarian bookstore, with a little help from Uncle David,” Lucy said.

  “Well, well.” Her father put on his spectacles, opened the book, and started reading the preface.

  “Ambrose?” Aunt Rose came by, gently patted his arm, and deftly removed the book from his hand. “Dinner is almost ready. I will send Meg upstairs to hurry along our other guests, and then we will be ready to proceed.”

  “As you wish, my dear.”

  Amazed at her father’s continued good humor, Lucy could only applaud Rose’s way of managing her scholarly and somewhat selfish father. In the past, when her father had received a new book, he would retire to his study, eat his meals in there, and become deaf to the calls of society and his parochial duties.

  “Grandfather?” Ned was tugging on the rector’s sleeve. “Will you take me to see Apollo so that we can show him his picture?”

  “Certainly, but after dinner.”

  Ned’s face fell. “But—”

  “Ned?” Lucy stepped forward and took him firmly by the hand. “You heard what your grandfather said. Now come and make your bow to the other guests.”

  She greeted the Culpeppers, who lived in the village and had two children, one a similar age to Ned whom he often played with. Mr. Culpepper was her father’s curate and did most of the work of running the large rural parish. Mrs. Culpepper was Penelope’s younger sister and was nothing like her at all.

  “Is Penelope coming?” Lucy asked.

  “She was invited, but she declined to come because Dr. Fletcher isn’t home yet, and she didn’t wish to come without him.” Dorothea smiled. “Her devotion to Dr. Fletcher is something to admire.”

  “Indeed.” Lucy agreed. “Did my father mention he had other guests?”

  “I believe someone arrived this afternoon,” Mr. Culpepper said. “An old friend of his from university.”

  “How pleasant for him.” Lucy smiled as she noticed Aunt Rose gathering her guests together by the door to the dining room. “Please excuse me. I must go and find Sir Robert.”

  With Ned firmly in hand, she turned toward the door, only to see her husband marching toward her, his expression furious.

  “You’ll never guess who else is coming to dinner, my dear.”

  Lucy raised her eyebrows as Robert stepped out of her way and pointed toward the doorway.

  “Viscount Gravely and his two sons.”

  Lucy fought a gasp. “Now, that is rather unexpected.”

  “And somehow I doubt it is a coincidence, either. Do you?” Robert murmured. “I can’t wait to find out what flimsy excuse Viscount Gravely used in order to invite himself to my village.”

  * * *

  “Sir Robert.” Viscount Gravely, who was seated at the rector’s right hand directly across the table from Robert, inclined his head. “What a surprise to see you here.”

  Robert didn’t bother to answer him but looked steadily back through the candlelight until the viscount dropped his gaze.

  “I didn’t realize that you knew my son-in-law, Gravely,” the rector intervened.

  “We met in London. Your brother introduced us,” Viscount Gravely said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find him here at your dining table, Ambrose, when I met him in your family house.”

  “Kurland is married to my oldest daughter, Lucy.”

  Viscount Gravely looked down the long table to where Lucy was sitting with his two sons. “Ah, how delightful.”

  “What brings you to Kurland St. Mary, my lord?” Robert asked. “I was led to believe that you were no longer capable of leaving your house.”

  “When I was in India, I picked up a form of wasting fever that sometimes leaves me in a weakened condition and I have to retire to my bed.” Gravely offered Robert a tight smile. “On the occasion of your visit, I was recovering from a bout of sickness.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain your sudden desire to visit my village.”

  “Your village?” Viscount Gravely raised an eyebrow. “I suspect my friend Ambrose might take issue with that.”

  “Not at all,” the rector said jovially. “My son-in-law is correct. All the land hereabouts, apart from that owned by the diocese, is held by the Kurland family, which has been here since the reformation of the monasteries.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question, my lord,” Robert said gently. “Why choose to come now?”

  “Because meeting the earl of Harrington reminded me that I wished to discuss with my old friend Ambrose some interesting material that I had accrued on my travels through India.”

  “Indeed.” Robert hoped his skepticism showed on his face. “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “Surely that is of no interest to you?” Viscount Gravely met his gaze. “I promise not to interfere with your pursuits.”

  “I was thinking of bringing Gravely up to Kurland Hall tomorrow, Robert. He would enjoy seeing your munitions room and the secret passages under the stairs.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Robert smiled at his father-in-law and rose from his seat. “If you will excuse me for a moment?”

  He left the rector openmouthed and walked out of the room into the hall, where he paused to gather his composure. The nerve of the man—to sit there opposite him, daring him to expose his wrongdoing . . .

  * * *

  “And what brings you to Kurland St. Mary, Mr. Gravely?” Lucy addressed her question to the younger of the Gravely brothers, who was sitting beside her at the table.

  Neville glanced nervously across at his brother. “I . . . was worried about my father’s health and decided that it would be better if I accompanied him.”

  “How very thoughtful of you.” Lucy commented. “I had no idea that Viscount Gravely knew my father.”

  “I understand that they have been friends for a considerable time, my lady, and that visiting the earl of Harrington inspired my father to . . . to reconnect with Mr. Harri
ngton.”

  Lucy glanced toward the head of the table, where Robert had suddenly risen to his feet and walked out of the room. She considered following him and then realized that would leave Ned unattended. She decided to stay seated and hoped that whatever had happened between her husband and the viscount hadn’t resulted in a heated argument across her father’s dinner table.

  “Please excuse me,” Trevor Gravely also rose and placed his napkin carefully beside his plate.

  “Trev.” Neville grabbed for his brother’s sleeve but was shaken off.

  “Is your brother unwell, Mr. Gravely?” Lucy inquired.

  “No, he’s one of those annoyingly healthy people who rarely even catch a cold.” Neville attempted a smile.

  “Did you return to England for your schooling, Mr. Neville?” Lucy attempted to set him at ease. “Or did you remain in India?”

  “No, my lady. My mother couldn’t abide the climate, so she came back with us while we both attended school.” His anxious gaze shifted back toward the door through which his brother and her husband had gone.

  “Did your mother return to India at some point?”

  “She much preferred to live here and died a few years ago in our house in London.”

  “My condolences,” Lucy said.

  “Thank you.” Neville looked as if he might cry. “I still miss her. She meant the world to me.”

  After making sure that Ned was fully engaged in talking with Anna, Lucy leaned in closer toward Neville.

  “Are you feeling quite well, sir?”

  “I’m . . . just wondering what has become of my brother.”

  “I’m sure he will return momentarily,” Lucy said soothingly. “If you came to support your father, why did your brother come to Kurland St. Mary?”

  “That’s a very good question, Lady Kurland, and one that only Trevor can answer. The only thing I would say is that, as my older brother, he has a tendency to think that he should fix everything for me.”

  “I suspect that is common with older sisters and brothers, Mr. Gravely. I certainly have been accused of meddling in my younger siblings’ lives,” Lucy agreed.

  “Yes, but Trevor”—Neville sighed—“tends to overreact to the slightest misdemeanor on my part. He still tells everyone how I ‘accidentally’ murdered the kitchen cat as though it is a highly amusing story.”

  “It certainly doesn’t sound amusing,” Lucy said.

  “It was an accident.” Neville shifted in his seat. “A horrible accident, and I wish he would just stop talking about it.”

  There was a rising note in Neville’s voice that made Lucy want to reach for his hand and soothe his ruffled feathers. She hastened to change the subject.

  “Did your father return home with your mother to set up the household?”

  “No, he was too busy. Mother did it all herself.” He smiled more normally. “As a charitable woman, when she recruited her staff, I think she offered employment to half the orphans in East London in one fell swoop.”

  “How wonderful of her.” Even as she spoke, Lucy was furiously making connections in her head. “I wonder if she ever employed a boy called Bert Speers?”

  Neville almost choked on the sip of wine he’d just been drinking and stared at Lucy in horror.

  “He is currently working as an ostler in the Queen’s Head. I believe he said he’d been taken straight from an orphanage and employed by a big London house in their stable.” Lucy kept up her artless chatter. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it had been your mother who had employed him?”

  Neville was now shaking so badly that his wine threatened to leave the glass entirely.

  “I have no recollection of such a name, my lady,” he said stiffly. “It would be something of a remarkable coincidence if my mother had employed him, would it not?”

  “Indeed. How silly of me.” Lucy smiled at him. “My husband often scolds me for my ridiculous flights of fancy.”

  Ned tugged at her sleeve, and she returned her attention to him.

  “What is it, Ned?”

  He pointed at his empty plate. “I’ve finished my dinner. Can I go and see Apollo now?”

  Glancing at her hostess, Lucy saw her give the signal for the ladies to retire.

  “Yes, you have been very well behaved indeed. I will ask your aunt Rose if you may visit the stables immediately.”

  * * *

  “Sir Robert?”

  Robert turned to see Trevor Gravely coming after him, his expression contrite.

  “I expect you are wishing all of us to the devil.”

  “Yes.” Robert didn’t bother to be pleasant. He was far too angry.

  “I’m afraid it’s all my fault.” Trevor motioned toward the rector’s empty study, and Robert followed him inside. “I made the mistake of confiding in Neville as to my intentions to travel down here and identify Flora Rosa’s body.” He swallowed hard. “He grew very agitated, and the more I tried to calm him, the worse he became. He even tried to hit me. Eventually, I had to enlist the aid of father’s butler to restrain him.”

  Trevor stared out of the window. “I thought we had moved beyond such overwrought displays of emotion, but I was wrong. Neville’s feelings for Flora ran far deeper than I think any of us realized.”

  “Is it true that Flora was thinking of leaving your father and returning to your brother?” Robert asked.

  Shock flashed across Trevor’s face. “Who in the devil’s name told you that?”

  Robert didn’t attempt an answer and waited as Trevor took a hasty turn around the room, his hands behind his back.

  “I don’t know who said that, but yes, Neville did tell me that might happen. I must confess that I didn’t believe him because . . . he does tend to daydream about Flora rather obsessively.”

  It seemed to be a reoccurring theme with Neville’s father as well, but Robert didn’t point that out. “You still haven’t explained why your entire family has descended on Kurland St. Mary.”

  “As I said, it was my fault. After Ahuja helped me subdue Neville, he must have told Father what I planned to do—or Neville told him he was coming with me. Father decided he couldn’t trust either of us and opted to join the party.” He paused to study Robert’s face. “He really is acquainted with Mr. Harrington. They were at school together, and they have written to each other over the years.”

  “What does your father hope to achieve here?”

  “I’m not really sure.” For a moment, Trevor looked worried. “I suspect he is concerned that Neville will insist on seeing Flora’s body, and that he will somehow publicly disgrace himself and our family.”

  “By mourning her?”

  “You don’t understand, Neville isn’t . . . ,” Trevor sighed. “I feel disloyal even saying this because he is such a remarkable brother, but like my father, he has his obsessions, and Flora was one of them.”

  “How exactly does your father intend to stop Neville from seeing Flora’s body?”

  “I don’t know,” Trevor said. “This whole matter has become so complicated that I have no idea what will happen next. Is Flora’s body being held up at Kurland Hall?”

  “No,” Robert said.

  “Ah, then she’s in the village.” Trevor nodded. “Which is a shame, because it means that it won’t be easy to shake off Neville when I go to see Flora.”

  “I suppose I could invite him up to the hall,” Robert suggested somewhat reluctantly. “My father-in-law suggested allowing your father to visit me tomorrow. I could make sure that Neville is included in that invitation.”

  “That might work.” Trevor nodded. “If you can stomach dealing with my father. I understand that he banished you from our house.”

  “Indeed.” Robert half-turned to the door. “But once you have done your duty and identified Flora, I expect you to persuade your father and brother to leave this place immediately.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Sir Robert,” Trevor said fervently. “I’ll have them out of here in a fl
ash.”

  Robert returned to the dining room, along with Trevor, and retook his seat, only to have to stand again as the ladies left the gentlemen to their port. Lucy made a point of coming past his chair and pausing to speak to him.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Not really.” He squeezed her hand. “Give me a moment with your father, and then I will come and tell you all.”

  “As you wish. Ned is going to visit Apollo, and then we shall see how tired he is and whether we need to go home.” She went out with Ned and closed the door behind her, shutting Robert in with his father-in-law and a man he was beginning to dislike intensely.

  “I do beg your pardon for leaving the table so abruptly,” Robert said to the rector. “I suddenly remembered that the thing I was supposed to be doing tomorrow would not be possible until Dr. Fletcher returns home. I just sent a note to his wife to apprise her of the change of date.”

  “Does that mean I can bring the Gravelys up to the hall?” the rector asked.

  “Yes.” Robert smiled. “That would be delightful.”

  Chapter 19

  “You invited Viscount Gravely and Neville to Kurland Hall?” Lucy stared at Robert as though he had grown two heads. “Why?”

  They had just returned from saying good night to Ned in the nursery. Robert had been on the point of ringing for Silas and Betty when his wife had decided to pick a fight with him.

  “Trevor needs to identify Flora’s body. If Neville sees him setting out to do so, Neville might follow him and cause a scene.”

  Lucy considered that, her lips pursed in thought. “Neville is rather an emotional young man. I spoke to him at length at the dinner table. He denied all knowledge of Bert Speers, even though we already know that Viscount Gravely acknowledged his employment.”

  “Why the devil were you talking to Neville Gravely about Bert Speers?” Robert demanded.

  “There is no need to shout. I went about it in a very indirect way.”