Death Comes to the Nursery

by Catherine Lloyd

  “You shouldn’t have mentioned him at all. Didn’t you just say that he sounded rather unstable?”

  “If we are to find out what is going on, Robert, sometimes one has to attempt to ask the difficult questions!” Lucy squared up to him. “And what were you doing talking to Trevor Gravely, then?”

  “I didn’t exactly seek him out. He came to apologize for bringing the whole family down upon us.”

  “As well he should.” Lucy sniffed. “What on earth was my father thinking, inviting a man he hasn’t seen for twenty years to visit him?”

  “Your father was manipulated, much as we have been,” Robert said. “At least Gravely’s weakness and apparent inability to leave his house have been unmasked. There’s no reason why he couldn’t have come down here and strangled Flora, or done the exact same thing to Marjory.”

  “Except it would’ve been much easier for Bert Speers to do it for him,” Lucy reminded him.

  “Then, is that what we believe?” Robert asked. “That Viscount Gravely and Bert Speers conspired together to murder Flora, and then Marjory, and are still after Polly?”

  “It seems the most logical explanation to me.” Lucy studied him. “The problem is proving it.”

  “Indeed.” Robert sighed and flung himself down into a chair beside the fire. “And now I have committed myself to hosting Viscount Gravely in my house.”

  “Perhaps you should use it as an opportunity for some plain speaking.” Lucy came to stand in front of him, her arms folded over her bosom. “Tell him you intend to prosecute Bert Speers for Flora’s murder. Suggest to him that if he is harboring Bert, he should be aware that you have directed my uncle to lay information against Bert at Bow Street and set the Runners on him.”

  Robert smiled at his wife’s resolute expression. “Bravo, my dear.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Good Lord, no. I wouldn’t dare.” He caught her hand and drew her down to sit in his lap. “I am merely admiring your logic and congratulating myself on marrying a woman of such good sense.”

  He kissed her cheek. “My only concern with alerting him to the fact that I intend to set the Runners on him is that it will give him the opportunity to send Bert abroad, never to be seen again.”

  “I suppose you are right.” Lucy sighed. “Because even Bow Street would balk at suggesting that a peer was involved in a murder, with no evidence to show except conjecture. Perhaps you should just tell Viscount Gravely that you intend to continue to pursue and prosecute Bert, and that nothing will be allowed to stand in your way.”

  “I will certainly do that.” He kissed her again. “When they are here, I will rely on you to detach your father and Neville from the viscount so that I can have a quiet word with him in private.”

  She kissed him back. “That, my dear Robert, will be the easy part.”

  * * *

  Despite Robert’s best efforts to be a good host and Lucy’s father’s jovial presence, it was obvious that Viscount Gravely and his son were not entirely at their ease as they walked around Kurland Hall. Neville looked as if he expected a ghost to jump out at him from every corner, and Viscount Gravely looked bored. Robert supposed that for a man used to plundering the treasures of India, a small Elizabethan manor house in the southeast of England was rather commonplace.

  The only time the viscount did show any interest was when they entered the oldest part of the structure, which had been used as a magistrate’s hall for as long as anyone could remember. Lucy maneuvered her father and Neville through, into the picture gallery, and shut the door behind her, leaving Robert and Gravely alone for the first time.

  “This was the original hall of the house. I hold a quarterly court for my tenants and local landowners here, and deal with the majority of petty crime.” Robert stepped up onto the raised dais at one end of the paneled hall in front of an enormous fireplace. “We set the table here and allow anyone who wishes to express an opinion to offer it.”

  “How very medieval of you,” Viscount Gravely said dryly, his gaze fixed on the stained-glass window to his right.

  “It is a system of justice that works very well for the most part.” Robert stared at the viscount’s averted profile. “If a matter is too serious for me to make a judgment on, I send the accused to the quarterly assizes in the county town of Hertford.” Robert paused deliberately. “That’s what I should have done with Bert Speers instead of keeping him in the cellar of the Queen’s Head while I completed my investigation.”

  “Bert is still being held at the local inn? Whatever for?” Gravely asked.

  “Murdering your mistress. But you already knew that, seeing as Bert has been keeping you informed of his progress all along.”

  “What a ridiculous notion,” Gravely replied. “If Bert is guilty of murder, that is on him.”

  “Is it, though?” Robert stepped down of the dais. “Then why would he run straight to you?”

  “I thought you said he was currently incarcerated?”

  “Unfortunately, he escaped a few days ago.”

  The viscount tutted. “How very irresponsible of you, Sir Robert. One expects better from our local magistrates.”

  “Then you deny seeing him?”

  “Of course, I do.” The viscount raised his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I would aid or harbor a criminal, Sir Robert?”

  “Ah, so if he does turn up in London and comes to you at some point, you will immediately turn him over to the authorities?”

  “If he is a murderer, of course, I will. But to be perfectly frank, you don’t have the evidence to prove even that, or else you would’ve instantly charged him and sent him to the assizes.”

  “I’m fairly certain I know exactly where to lay the blame, my lord.” Robert held the viscount’s mocking gaze. “And if I ever have the opportunity to prove it, you will be hearing from me again.”

  “Strong words, sir, from a man who has nothing of real substance to say.”

  “I have the body of a young woman awaiting burial after being strangled,” Robert snapped. “Would you care to see her? Or would that offend your sensibilities too deeply?”

  For a moment, the viscount looked away, his expression suddenly blank. “Her death was . . . unfortunate.”

  “Unfortunate? A delay in getting to a ball is ‘unfortunate. ’ The deliberate murder of a young woman is something else entirely.”

  “Then one can only hope that the murderer will soon be brought to justice.” Viscount Gravely headed for the door. “I wish you all the best with your endeavors.”

  “I intend to pursue this matter until I am satisfied; don’t you worry about that,” Robert said loudly as the viscount opened the door. “I never give up on anything.”

  He let his guest leave and stayed where he was for a few moments to allow his temper to settle. The peace and antiquity of the venerable room spread over him. He slowly raised his head to study the image of justice depicted in the stained-glass window. One of the scales had been broken by a stray bullet during the Civil War and had been replaced by a clear piece of glass, but it hardly affected the overall sentiment of the piece.

  Whatever Viscount Gravely said, Robert truly believed that at some point Flora Rosa’s murderer would be held to account. With that belief firmly in mind, he exhaled and went to find his guests.

  * * *

  Lucy paused yet again to see where Neville had gone. He was several paces behind her, staring out of the windows looking over the front of the house. Her father had decided to go up to the nursery to surprise Ned, and Lucy had been more than happy to see him go.

  “I do apologize, Lady Kurland,” Neville said. “I was just looking to see if Trevor had arrived yet.”

  “I believe you said he had gone out riding and would join us when he was ready.” Lucy offered.

  “That’s right, but as he doesn’t know the area, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s gotten lost and if I should go and look for him.” Neville walked slowly toward her.r />
  “It is very hard to get lost here, Mr. Gravely, as the fields are so flat, and the steeple of St. Mary’s church is easy to navigate back toward. I’m sure your brother will join us soon. Would you like to come down to the drawing room and have some refreshments while we wait for your father?”

  Neville finally appeared to remember his manners and meekly followed her back toward the landing, where they could descend the shallow oak stairway into the main entrance hall.

  A scream penetrated from one of the upper stories, and Lucy stiffened at the sound of pounding feet on the servants’ staircase to her right. The door burst open, and Polly, still wearing her nightgown, ran toward Lucy, swiftly followed by James.

  James reached Polly before Lucy, gently locked his arms around her waist, and lifted her off her feet.

  “It’s all right, my lady. I’ve got her. Dr. Fletcher is coming to see her very soon.”

  “Thank you, James,” Lucy said.

  Lucy held the door open for James to carry the now-struggling Polly back up to her room.

  She turned to her companion “I do apologize, Mr. Gravely, I—” She stopped speaking as she registered the look of horror on his face. “What is it?”

  He gulped once and then stared at Lucy. “What in God’s name is she doing here?”

  Lucy braced herself. “I’m not sure what you are referring to, sir.”

  “That woman!” Neville pointed a shaking finger at the door. “This is a disaster! She’s not supposed to be—”

  Lucy stepped right in front of Neville as he lurched toward the door, praying that his good manners would not allow him to knock her down.

  “I don’t know who you think you saw, Mr. Gravely, but you are quite mistaken. That woman is one of my nursery maids. She has been suffering from a fever for the last week and is still delirious.”

  “I—must have been wrong.” Neville looked away from her. “I beg your pardon, my lady.”

  Lucy touched his arm. “Will you come down and have some tea? I’m sure your father won’t be much longer.”

  She was more shaken by the incident than she was prepared to acknowledge. What appalling luck for a member of the Gravely family to see Polly Carter, of all people. She would have to tell Robert what had happened as soon as possible.

  Just after her father joined them in the drawing room and Anna had been introduced to Neville, Robert appeared with Viscount Gravely at his side. Neither of them looked as if they had come to blows, but the icy disdain between them was blatantly obvious.

  On the pretense of making Robert hand out cups of tea, Lucy managed to get him close enough to whisper in his ear.

  “Polly escaped her room and Neville saw her.”

  “What?” Robert almost dropped the cup.

  “James caught her and took her back to bed. Dr. Fletcher has been sent for.”

  “Why did she choose to escape now?” Robert muttered.

  “Just a ghastly coincidence.” Lucy paused. “Unless she somehow knew Viscount Gravely was here and panicked.”

  “And ran straight down the stairs into his son’s arms?” Robert had delivered the tea and returned to her. “I thought she was unconscious.”

  “And I told you I suspected she was pretending,” Lucy reminded him.

  “Maybe she thought Neville Gravely might save her from us?” Robert retorted.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Lucy handed him another cup of tea. “I can only hope that Neville believed my explanation that the woman was my nursery maid.”

  “I somehow doubt that.” Robert nudged her. “Look at his face. He can barely manage to maintain a polite conversation. He knows whom he saw, and he is dying to tell his father.”

  * * *

  “Good morning, Lady Kurland, Sir Robert.” Robert looked up to see Trevor Gravely entering the drawing room. “I do apologize for my late arrival.”

  Robert went over to speak to Trevor, leaving Lucy dispensing tea.

  “Good morning. I’m afraid that you missed the tour, but you are more than welcome to come back another day, if you so desire.” Robert lowered his voice. “Did you have the opportunity to see the body?”

  “Indeed, I did.” Trevor bowed. “And I can confirm that it is Flora Rosa. May she rest in peace.”

  Robert slowly exhaled. “Thank you for that. Now at least I can bury her with her proper name on her headstone.”

  “I doubt that’s her real name, but I understand your relief, Sir Robert.” Trevor’s attention swung to his brother. “What’s wrong with Neville? He looks as though he’s seen a ghost.”

  “Perhaps he did,” Robert ventured. “This is a very old house, after all.” He took Trevor across the room to speak to Lucy and receive a cup of tea, and went over to where Neville was staring into space.

  “Did you enjoy your tour, sir?” Robert asked.

  “Indeed, it was . . . fascinating.” Neville’s smile wasn’t convincing at all.

  “I understand that you met our new nursery maid, who has been quite unwell with a fever.” Robert met Neville’s gaze. “I’m sure that you and your father would hate to become unwell yourselves, which is why I was just recommending to your brother that you keep your visit to Kurland St. Mary as short as possible.”

  Neville nodded. “I quite agree with you, Sir Robert. In truth, I cannot wait to get away from this place.”

  Robert escorted the Gravely family and his father-in-law back out into their gig and waited until they all departed down the drive toward the rectory. He had a strong suspicion they hadn’t heard the last from Neville and wanted to speak to his wife immediately.

  She was still in the drawing room when he returned, collecting cups and placing them on the tea tray, a thoughtful look on her face.

  “Robert—”

  He spoke over her. “We have to decide what to do about Polly. Where would be the best place to keep her safe?”

  Lucy gave him an odd look. “Here, of course.”

  “But that idiot Neville is bound to blurt out what he saw to his father and brother!”

  “I’m quite sure that he will,” Lucy agreed. “Which is why this is the best place to protect Polly and catch anyone who chooses to come after her.”

  Robert studied his wife. “You mean we should set a trap and see if Viscount Gravely takes the bait?”

  “Exactly.” Lucy smiled approvingly at him. “You know this house better than anyone. We can make sure that Polly is placed in a room where we can observe her very closely and prevent anyone from finding her.”

  “The priest’s room,” Robert said decisively. “With the false wall and the space behind it to hide someone to watch over Polly.” He nodded. “That is an excellent notion. We can have someone guarding the exterior door as well.”

  “James already knows about this Polly Carter, and I am certain that after his recent failures, he would be delighted to guard her,” Lucy said. “We can also get Isaiah and Isaac up from the stables if we need them.”

  “Have you been up to see Polly yet?” Robert asked,

  “I haven’t had time,” Lucy said. “Do you want to come with me?” She set the last cup on the tray. “I am very interested in hearing what she has to say.”

  They walked through into the entrance hall just as Dr. Fletcher arrived, and after exchanging pleasantries, they ascended the stairs together. As they went up, Robert explained about the arrival of the real Polly Carter. Patrick expressed his surprise at her surviving what had happened in London and at her journey to Kurland St. Mary.

  “Evans says that there is no reason for her not to have regained full consciousness,” Patrick remarked. “But I have seen patients who have remained comatose for weeks and then woken up with no knowledge of what happened to them, so don’t expect her to be able to tell you anything.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” Robert said. “And seeing as she tried to run away earlier, one might assume that she has regained her senses somewhat.”

  “It depends.” Patri
ck paused by the door where James was sitting. “She might have lapsed into unconsciousness again.”

  Robert snorted as Patrick unlocked the door. Betty, Lucy’s maid, was sitting by the bed beside Polly.

  “She’s asleep, Dr. Fletcher. Do you want me to wake her?”

  “Asleep or unconscious?” Dr. Fletcher came to sit on the side of the bed and took Polly’s hand in his, his fingers on the inside of her wrist. “She doesn’t seem very aware to me.”

  He leaned closer. “Polly? Can you hear me? This is Dr. Fletcher. You are quite safe here.”

  Polly didn’t stir, and Robert watched somewhat impatiently as his friend continued to sit on the bed and observe his patient.

  “I don’t think she’s pretending, Sir Robert,” Patrick finally said. He stroked the thin tip of his pen over her skin, and she didn’t react at all. “I don’t know quite what is going on, but I suggest you leave her in peace.”

  “James said that when he was halfway up the stairs, she stopped fighting, swooned again, and didn’t respond to him after that,” Betty added.

  “Knowing James, he probably hit her head against the stairwell,” Robert grumbled rather unfairly.

  “I suspect it’s more that she is too afraid to face what is going on in the present,” Patrick said slowly. “I’ve seen such cases before—usually after a person has suffered a traumatic event. They deliberately retreat into unconsciousness.”

  “Like almost being killed by Bert Speers?” Robert asked as he turned to the door. “Will it be acceptable to you if we move her into a different room?”

  “That’s perfectly fine, as long as you make sure it is secure, and that someone is watching over her at all times.”

  “Don’t worry about that, my friend,” Robert said grimly. “I’ll make absolutely certain it is as safe as the Tower of London.”

  Robert left the room with Lucy, told James to report to him in his study after he’d been relieved by Michael, and set off down the stairs. Polly was the last remaining link to Flora Rosa’s death, and Robert intended to make sure that she lived to speak her truth. He needed a plan to thwart any attempt by Neville or Viscount Gravely to contact Polly. His staff was capable and loyal to a fault. He had no doubt that if they obeyed his orders and the fates were kind to him, he might successfully catch a murderer. Who it would be, he wasn’t yet quite certain.