Untitled

by Wendy Bayne

  Father moved forward in his seat. “May I beg a favour from you, Lord Granville? Don’t do that, at least not yet.” Lord Granville drew himself up to argue, then Father pulled out the picture I had drawn of the dark man and placed it on the desk in front of him. “My daughter thought she saw someone behind Mr Johnson last night. This is the image of the person she saw but as you can see, it’s incomplete. Yet my valet recognized this man as a smuggler he’s seen several times near Poole in Dorset.” His Lordship glared at Robert who looked like all he wanted to do was disappear into his chair. “He is only known as the dark man in that region, but he has an unusual accent. I thought at first that he might be from the British West Indies but from his look perhaps he’s Spanish. Have you ever seen him?”

  Lord Granville took the sketch and moved over to the window, he sucked on his lower lip looking up several times at his secretary. “Are you sure about this, Turner?” he tapped the picture looking sharply at me before turning back to my father. My father nodded. His Lordship took a deep breath and moved back to his desk and sat down. “Then we have a problem. This looks very much like the nephew of Don Francisco Martinez de le Rosa. But I’d heard that he had died at sea.”

  Father looked amused. “Perhaps he didn’t. Can you tell me anything about him?”

  He pointed at the sketch. "Gabriel was a younger son and from all accounts a hellion from a tender age. His father decided to send him to the Indies to a relative’s plantation, hoping it would be a sobering experience. But his ship never made it. There were whispers for some time that his ship had been captured by pirates and that the young man had been sold into slavery. His family tried to locate him and almost created a diplomatic incident with England, thinking that he was being held in one of our colonies. I assume that they eventually gave him up as lost. That’s all that I know except that his uncle is living in Paris right now.

  “Don Francisco is not a popular man in Spain currently but don’t think for a moment that he’s powerless.” He leaned across the desk and pushed my drawing back to my father. “I don’t know how long I can postpone involving the police, especially in light of this news. I don’t know how long I can give you, Turner, too many people already know about the murder.”

  Father was losing patience; he would never make a diplomat or a politician that much was obvious. He was a man of action. “The murder, yes, but not this new development,” he pointed at my sketch.

  The door opened amidst a protest from a footman and in walked Dr Jefferson, right behind him was Miles. I almost stood up, but I remembered my promise and remained seated. Dr Jefferson smiled and bowed towards me. Miles did nothing, he didn’t even look in my direction. I opened my mouth and closed it again as he came forward with a cane in his hand, obviously using it to look for obstructions. He turned in our general direction. “Hello, Colin, Samuel and,” he tipped his head to the side inhaling, “Robert?” Then he looked in my direction and grinning from ear to ear bowed. “Miss Turner, that rose scent is far too heavy for you. I prefer the vanilla and lavender that you usually wear.”

  I gasped and almost answered him back as I normally would have but thought better of it. “I will keep that in mind, Mr Johnson.”

  The Ambassador looked uncomfortable as he turned to my father with a questioning look then shrugged his shoulders. Dr Jefferson interjected at this point. “Your Lordship, I am positive that Mr Johnson did not fire that shot last night. He assures me that he heard someone nearby laugh and another person cautioning them to stop it.”

  Lord Granville gave only a throaty “Humph”.

  But the doctor was not to be deterred by the lack of response. “I distinctly remember the position of Mr Johnson to Mr Browne’s body when I arrived within seconds of the shot. It would have been nearly impossible for him to make that shot given the condition of his eyes and the lack of light.”

  His Lordship smiled and tapped the picture on the desk. “I’m inclined to agree with you, doctor, since Miss Turner has recalled seeing someone else in the woods. In fact, she drew this.” He pointed at the drawing still on his desk. “Do either of you remember seeing this person in the vicinity or sulking about at the party perhaps?” He slid the paper toward Miles then he grimaced. “Excuse me, Mr Johnson, I forgot that the reports of your returned eyesight were greatly exaggerated, after all.” He glared at the doctor who bit his lip and looked down at his feet. “Dr Jefferson, do you recognise this man?”

  Miles worked his way towards me while the doctor examined my drawing. He went to sit down beside me but snagged his cane in the skirts of my riding habit and fell forward surreptitiously, kissing my cheek. Then he pivoted with complete grace to sit down, landing directly on my riding crop and in the process of removing it he took hold of my hand under the folds of my skirt as he righted himself. No one paid us any attention except for the secretary who watched Miles’ every move very closely. I think I had discovered who was Lord Granville’s eyes and ears at the Embassy.

  The conversation continued as they argued back and forth as to what should be done or if it should just be left to the authorities in Paris which the only course of action that Mr Dunhill supported. It was finally decided that my father would lead the investigation and that Miles was exonerated. My father handed me back the sketch but asked that I duplicate it for Lord Granville and the Paris police as a matter of courtesy in case they knew the man in question. The conversation had stopped, and his Lordship pointedly glared at me while Father merely cleared his throat. I took the hint and excused myself to visit with Lady Granville.

  I was taken to the conservatory by a footman and announced to her Ladyship. I curtseyed and made my apologies for interrupting her. She had on a large canvas apron over her gown and gardener’s gloves. “Miss Turner, it’s so nice to see you again,” she stood smiling at me as she pulled off her gloves then turned to the footman. “I’m a little thirsty, you must be too after riding here in all that dust.” She looked over my shoulder smiling at the footman. “Simon, two glasses of lemonade, please.” Waving him away with a hand she took a seat and motioned for me to take the seat across from her. “I must say that I admire your recuperative powers. Most young ladies would have taken to their bed for days after enduring what you did last night.” She paused cocking her head to the right as if assessing my appearance. “And yet here you are today, the picture of health. I assume that you have questions that you’d like to ask me.” I must have looked surprised which, in fact, I was. “Come now, my dear, we all know that most men would never think to ask a woman about their observations, let alone their opinion.” She chuckled briefly lowering her eyes. “I must confess though that I feel like I already know your family. My sister is Mrs Eugenia Clarence, she lives in Mayfair very near to your home. I’ve heard a great deal about your family from her.” I knew Mrs Clarence as the nosiest woman in Mayfair and Lady Granville was watching me closely and laughed. “I know Miss Turner that my sister is an inveterate gossip but having one baby after another tends to make her thirst for any news, so she cultivates the worst gossips in the Beau Monde as her closest friends.”

  I swallowed and thought of the only polite thing I could say. “I believe that Dr Jefferson is her physician.”

  “Yes, he is. But it’s her ability to ferret things out without seeming to venture out of her home that makes her such a delightful correspondent. I must confess at times that I feel like I’m back home sitting in her drawing room listening to the latest news when I read one of her letters.” Our lemonade arrived so we chatted amiably about London for a few minutes. “Well, my dear, I’m sure you’re in a hurry and I must get back to repotting these orchids, so ask me your questions.”

  I pulled the drawing out of my pocket, unrolling it before her. “Have you ever seen this man before, Lady Granville?”

  She barely gave the sketch a look when her face became expressionless. “Why?”

  I inhaled, deeply surprised by her lack of expression. “I’ve found that as you say wome
n and even children often see and hear things that their male relatives would never give a second thought to.” She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to weigh my veracity then she leaned forward to gaze at the picture for a short time.

  She finally arching a brow and looked directly at me. “Yes, I did see him. He was here last night. I don’t know who he is though, we were never introduced. I assumed that he was a guest of one of my other guests.” It was my turn to look sceptical and she smiled. “You know how it is at large parties, some invited people don’t come and others that were not invited show up. But in my position, I have to protect the identities of my guests.”

  “Did you notice who he came in with?”

  “No, my dear, I’m sorry but he does remind me of someone however, but I can’t think of who. I only noticed the gentleman because he was so tall and dark, and his skin was a deep bronze which is most unusual in Paris or England any time of the year. But I did see him standing by the doors to the conservatory talking to a slight young man with a mass of blonde curls. You’ll have to excuse me but as the hostess I was constantly on the move dealing with dozens of competing priorities.” We chatted about the other guests, but she couldn’t remember anything else, so I thanked her and took my leave.

  The men were just coming out of Lord Granville’s study as I came into the foyer. Father looked at me with a quizzical eye, but I merely smiled, and he nodded back. “Miles and Dr Jefferson will be accompanying us back to the chateau in the Ambassadors’ carriage, Clarissa.” I desperately wanted to ask if I could go with Miles, but my father gave me a warning look.

  While we stood outside waiting for the carriage and our horses to be brought around, Miles stood beside me whispering, “I take it you found out something that we did not?”

  I looked about to see that no one was paying us much attention. “Yes, but how did you know?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s like a vibration in the air, the staccato of your step across the marble foyer, the sudden tension in your father and his intake of breath. It’s little things like that that I feel or hear since my eyes have failed me; maybe it’s a sixth sense.” He sighed and relaxed. “I don’t know how I do it, I just do.”

  I brushed my hand against his as the horses and the carriage arrived. Then he took my hand and squeezed it tightly before I let go and walked over to the mounting block. There with the aid of Michael I mounted and rode off with the others with the carriage rumbling out of the gate behind us.

  Chapter 26

  Secrets Revealed

  We returned to the hotel and packed immediately to return to the Chateau. Once we arrived there were urgent dispatches from England that needed to be attended to and Dr Jefferson wanted to examine Miles’ eyes more closely. I went to my room to change then to the nursery to visit my brother. When I entered, Lettie was there along with Emilie and my mother. Mother was singing to a smiling James who was trying desperately to stay awake. Emilie was watching Mother with a look of longing on her face as Lettie was setting things to rights in the nursery. Suddenly, Emilie asked, “Lettie, when do you think you and Murphy will marry?”

  Lettie turned beet red but didn’t look up. “I don’t know what you mean, ma’am?” Mother and Emilie both smiled at her, Lettie smiled slightly but then it vanished. “He has asked me, ma’am. But I haven’t given him an answer yet. After all, Master James still needs me and well…” She paused biting her lip, I could see she was struggling with voicing what was on her mind.

  Mother leaned forward to prod her into speaking, “Yes, Lettie?”

  Lettie looked up tears glistening in her eyes. “What would become of us if we did marry? I know that most gentry don’t employ couples in childbearing years and I’ll need to work, ma’am, to help support us outside of the household. Then there’s our work for Mr Turner, I just don’t see how it can be done.”

  I felt a breath of air on the back of my neck and looked over my shoulder into the face of my Aunt Mary who was standing there ramrod straight with her lips puckered in disapproval. She nudged me into the room then came in behind me. Mother blanched after seeing the look on our Aunt’s face and Emilie pretended to be interested in fringe on her shawl as Aunt Mary walked over to Mother and asked, “How is my great nephew today?” I chose to sit down in a chair by the door in case I needed to escape before Aunt Mary launched into one of her lectures.

  Mother looked down at James and in an overly cheerful voice said, “Splendid! He’s such a happy little boy.”

  Aunt Mary almost smiled but instead she just made a grunt of approval then she turned to look around the nursery still with that sour look of disapproval on her face. She stared at Lettie as if assessing her qualities. “Lettie, I had my doubts about you becoming the nanny to our young James, but I was wrong. You have done an admirable job for one so young, so I don’t think that I would be out of order in saying that I hope you will remain in the position for some time to come.” She was struggling to keep her face composed but I could see her sucking in her cheeks to retain that look of intimidation. Then she glanced down at Mother and continued, “Especially since I believe there will be at least one more brother or sister for Clarissa and James soon.” My mouth fell open and my mother turned scarlet while Lettie looked downcast. Emilie reached out to touch Lettie’s hand in commiseration.

  Aunt Mary walked over to the window, she just stood there looking out for a bit with everyone’s eyes on her back. I couldn’t believe that she could be so unfeeling if she had heard what Lettie had said before she made her presence known. Without turning around, Aunt Mary said, “Irene, my dear, you already have a reputation in the world at large for being eccentric. Yet despite that people are in awe of how you inspire loyalty in your staff. Therefore, I see no reason for you to change now and bow to convention.” She turned to look at my mother, still grim-faced, “Do you?”

  Lettie and Emilie both looked puzzled, but my mother looked inspired. “Oh yes! I see what you mean, Auntie! What do you think of the old carriage house in London and there are cottages in Somerset that aren’t being used?”

  Aunt Mary nodded. “I believe that would do admirably.”

  Mother continued, “In fact, Colin, and I have talked a bit about the possibility of our staff wanting to marry and what could be done for them and still be available for his work. It would be a benefit to all of us in the long run.” Mother was excited and James’ eyes were wide open watching her. “Of course, I thought that it would have been Beth and Dalton first. But I see what you mean, Aunt Mary, married staff living on the estate would be eccentric but with them being agents for Colin, it will be very convenient.” She was obviously warming to the idea. “Besides it’s so hard to find staff that can adapt to our unconventional comings and goings. I think it’s a wonderful idea!”

  Aunt Mary stood over Lettie looking down at her, “So, child, do you and your beau wish to marry here or in London? I understand that you only have your brother and that Murphy has a sister, but she lives in Ireland, yet he may wish to have her present.”

  Lettie looked up at Aunt Mary as if she was about to be eaten alive. Then James whimpered, and she jumped to her feet, Mother was clutching him too tightly, so she relaxed her grip and he settled leaning against her chest, so he could observe his kingdom. Lettie looked down at him with a smile and he smiled back at her. “I don’t know, ma’am. We’ve tried not to discuss it because we thought we’d have to leave. And then there is my brother and well, I don’t think he’d be too fond of the idea seeing as how…well, he just wouldn’t tis all.”

  Aunt Mary sat down. “Lettie, don’t you think it’s time that you tell us the secret that might be an impediment to your brother’s approval?” Lettie’s eyes got huge, her colour drained away till she was as pale as the curtains on the window, but she remained silent wringing her hands. I had never seen Lettie disconcerted. So, Aunt Mary continued, “My dear, I know very well that you are not from the East End of London, would you care to explain?”
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  Lettie gasped. “Oh, I can’t, ma’am. Dalton would—”

  Aunt Mary arched her brow. “Leave Dalton to me, my dear. This is about your future and I think you owe this family complete honesty, let’s start with where do you come from and who are your parents.”

  Lettie sat down with a thump as if totally defeated, she looked at the floor then drew in a deep breath. "We’re from Whitstable, ma’am, in Kent. Our father was a successful merchant dealing in dry goods. Our mother was a vicar’s daughter. Neither family approved of their marriage, so they made their way on their own. Our parents never spoke of their families, so we assumed they’d disowned them. I still have no idea if any of them are even still alive or where to find them if they were.

  “Dalton was the only son and our father expected him to follow him into his business, but he wasn’t interested. He wanted to be a tailor.” She smiled. “He does love fine clothes and he’s good with a needle. Anyway, he apprenticed himself to Mr Ireland, our father’s tailor. Father was outraged feeling that being a tailor was beneath Dalton. But it’s what he wanted so our mother supported his choice. Dalton was very good at it and he was a fast learner. But the tailor had a son who was apprenticed at the same time so there would never be a chance for Dalton to take over the shop or work as his assistant. But this didn’t bother him, he was sure that he’d be able to talk our father into setting him up.” Aunt Mary raised her brow clearly impressed with either Dalton’s drive or their father’s wealth.

  Lettie paused to take a breath before continuing, “Then our mother passed away suddenly when I was only thirteen and our father was never the same. He loved her dearly and missed her so much that he started to drink heavily. Finally, one day he just didn’t come home. We never knew what happened to him. The constable figured he’d just run off.” Tears were in her eyes and her shoulders slumped forward. “Dalton had almost finished his apprenticeship when it happened, so we lived on in the house for a bit. But he didn’t make enough money for its upkeep and we eventually had to give it up. My father’s partner said he’d help us. But since our father hadn’t been declared dead he couldn’t give us any money from the business without our father’s consent. And since we had no proof that he was dead the shareholders would never approve. Therefore, Father’s assets had to remain in the business.” Aunt Mary clicked her tongue. Lettie sat up straight and held her chin up. “We didn’t know any better, ma’am. We thought that he was our friend and we had no family that we could turn to. He told us that he’d help us get set up in London with a friend who was looking for someone to take over his tailoring shop. He promised to send us our father’s annual dividend share when it came due, so we set off to London together. But when we got there the shop he’d spoke of was closed, the owner had died nearly a year before. Dalton wrote to our benefactor and while we waited for a response he tried to find work because he knew that the money we had wouldn’t last long in London. But without references he had to do hard labour which was something he hadn’t been used to, ma’am. I tried to get work too but without a character no one would take me on as a maid and Dalton wouldn’t stand for me working in an ale house or factory. We wrote to my father’s partner several times, but he never responded. Dalton finally found a tailor who hired him on. But the man was a drunkard, he was only looking for what amounted to slave labour from us. Dalton and I both worked there, me in the front of the shop and Dalton in back and the owner rented us a couple of rooms above the shop to live in. It was hard work and Dalton was the only one doing the cutting and sewing even though the owner had a good clientele of gentry. So, when the shop closed for the day I would go back to help him. Mr Parsons the owner made it clear that he wanted me to listen in on the conversations of the gentleman who came into the shop. I was to tell him what they said, I didn’t know at the time why he wanted to know but I’d assumed he was for no good.”