One notable feature had been the old staircase, dating from the 1680s and which had been much criticized by a prominent neighbour of the Westburys, because of its alarming steepness. It had since been replaced by a much more shallow flight, protected by a balustrade of beautiful wrought iron, custom made by a London blacksmith, which added a graceful touch to the old stair hall.
Like all old houses, it had its share of secret hidey holes and it was rumoured that there was an underground tunnel leading from Felbrook woods to the library, which had once been the great chamber of the Jacobean house. So far, though, no one had discovered the underground passage or learned the secret of opening the panelled wall.
As for Jane Grayson, when she’d heard of the so-called secret tunnel from the all-knowing Mrs Palmer, she’d declared herself to be not interested in such tomfoolery and expressed the hope that her darlings would not listen to such idle tales of priests’ holes and such. Mrs Palmer had taken umbrage at this and had expressed the hope that Mrs Grayson would not live to regret her scepticism.
The storm, which gave no sign of abating, had caused the dusk to arrive prematurely and once the candles were lit, Jane Grayson was already planning in her mind to invite the two guests to stay for dinner, rather than send them out to brave the elements on horseback. Having finished the second lot of tea and cake, conversation seemed to have petered out and they were all, it seemed, wrapped up in their own thoughts.
Kitty was still busy sewing and Adam Brown was glancing idly at an out-of-date copy of The Times, while Charlotte and Matthew chatted quietly about a riding party they were both going to attend the following week. Aurelia Casterton and her bosom friend, Ann West, were together hosting a picnic in the grounds of the Castertons’ country home for various of their young friends and it promised to be an interesting excursion. Except for the spectacular noise of the storm, it was just another pleasant family evening.
Quite suddenly, there was an exceptionally deafening thunderclap and a flash of lightning, which lit up the whole of the countryside for several miles and made the candles flicker and go pale.
This was followed by a terrific crash and then an ominous silence.
There was a muffled shriek and a distant scream and Mrs Palmer burst into the room without knocking, so great was her panic. She was followed closely by a distraught Phoebe, who held her apron over her head and promptly gave way to a bout of hysterics.
Jane Grayson found this irritating. ‘Oh dear! What a tiresome girl. Stop that at once, Phoebe. Mrs Palmer, sal volatile, if you please. I have no time to spend cosseting silly girls. Come now, let us see what has happened. The noise seemed to come from the library.’
They all trooped out of the drawing-room along the stone corridor and through the stair hall to the library. Mrs Palmer, afraid of missing something, set off in hot pursuit and Phoebe, finding herself alone and her hysterics ignored, threw down the sal volatile in disgust and hurried after them.
There was another mighty crack and a rumble of falling masonry as a sizeable piece of the south front collapsed and slid noisily to the ground, destroying part of the fireplace wall in the library and leaving a heap of rubble in the stair hall, just outside the door. The dust rose up like a grey fog and obscured the extent of the damage for several minutes.
Both the men had to put their shoulders to the library door, it being jammed by fallen bricks and splintered panelling, and held their handkerchiefs to their mouths because of the choking dust. When Adam and Matthew had opened it, the ladies lifted their skirts and held them close to their legs as they picked their way into the room.
Adam Brown was the first to reach the old stone fireplace, which appeared to have caved in when the chimney collapsed. This also appeared to have unsettled the wall to the side of the fireplace and more than four feet of the beautifully carved oak panelling had been displaced.
What was revealed behind the panelling was almost too gruesome to be looked on. As Adam bent over the gap in the wall, he exclaimed, ‘By all that’s holy! Askeleton, Matthew. A skeleton in a cupboard, no less!’
Removing his immaculate handkerchief from his mouth, Matthew could only echo what his guide and mentor, Mr Brown, had said. ‘Yes. Good God! A skeleton, Mr Brown, sir. What … what on earth can have happened?’
The three ladies were now also in the room and able to view what was revealed by the cracking open of the priest hole. Jane Grayson spoke first. ‘Mrs Palmer, please take Phoebe back to the kitchen and make her some tea. I shall come to see her directly, but this is not a sight for Phoebe’s young eyes. Charlotte, Kitty, I am persuaded that this is not something either of you would want to look at. Should you wish to return to the drawing-room you may do so now.’
Both Charlotte and Kitty professed themselves desirous of staying where they were. Neither of them was willing to miss any of the excitement of finding an actual skeleton in the proverbial family cupboard.
‘Whoever he is, poor soul. He has obviously been here a long time,’ Adam Brown said at last.
‘He?’ Kitty questioned. ‘How do we know it is he?’
‘Well, he has silver buttons on his coat and the remains of leather boots,’ Adam said gently. ‘Although, to be sure, the boots are crumbled almost into dust. I expect the rats have done their work over the years.
‘Perhaps he was a traveller, then,’ Charlotte surmised. ‘But where could he have been going and how did he meet his end?’
‘The answer to your last question is very violently,’ Adam said, still speaking quietly in the presence of what was, after all, a deceased person. ‘See, this large black stain which has spread all over the floor. That must be a blood stain, unless I am very much mistaken.’
All the ladies shuddered, but Charlotte, steelier than the other two, said, ‘What manner of man do you think he was, then, Mr Brown? There are no papers, no jewels, no money; nothing to identify him.’
‘Only this,’ Adam said. Bending down, he picked up an old signet ring, the gold still gleaming brightly. ‘Likewise, this.’ He also retrieved a silver fob watch, with a fine chased case, tarnished and slightly dented, but still attached to its handsome silver chain. ‘Whoever he was, he seems to have been a gentleman. Any of his other possessions could easily have been removed after his death.’
‘Are you suggesting murder, Mr Brown?’
Jane Grayson was obviously surprised and alarmed at the idea of a murder victim on the premises that she’d been renting for a year.
‘It seems highly probable, ma’am.’
‘But … but, surely it could have been an accident or … or … even suicide, Mr Brown?’
‘I think not,’ he said quietly. ‘There is no weapon, you see. The deceased could not have killed himself with either his ring or this watch. What accident could have caused such a copious amount of blood in so small a space? Of course, we shall have to report this to the proper authorities, but it is my opinion the unfortunate man was murdered.’
‘Oh, how dreadful!’ Jane Grayson exclaimed. ‘Poor man and to think this body has been here all this time and none of us was even aware of it.’
‘Quite so,’ Adam Brown said. ‘I think, Matthew, that there is no point in any more fruitless speculation. And with your permission, ma’am, perhaps we could have the loan of a blanket or sheet, until the body can be removed.’
‘Of course,’ Jane agreed. ‘Come, girls, we shall return to the drawing-room and get Robert to cover the body decently.’
Jane’s household was very informal. Although she used the formal system of ringing a bell to summon the maid when they had company, she was just as likely to go to the kitchen herself and even do the baking if she was so inclined. She employed the young footman, Robert, as a cross between a butler and general factotum, a young man of many skills who was in her opinion ‘worth his weight in gold’.
They all went back to the drawing-room where Adam Brown asked diffidently if he could have the use of some of Robert’s silver polish and a soft c
loth. While they all watched with interest, he polished up the silver watch and turned it over so that the engraving on the back of the case was revealed clearly. The owner’s initials were hand-engraved and clearly marked: C.W.
‘It seems he was one of the Westburys then. “C.W” – that could be Christopher or Charles….’
‘Yes, it could be either of those, Matthew, but the favoured family names are Benjamin, Hugo, Charles. This ring is also interesting,’ he went on. ‘See, a cunning little hinge just here. A locket ring, no less.’
Very carefully, he pulled up the little hinged fastening on the ring and opened it to reveal an exquisite miniature of a mother and child. It showed a beautiful young woman, with dark hair and deep blue eyes. The child was an adorable little cherub, fairer than his mother but with identical blue eyes. Below the portrait in very tiny writing, but easy to read, was the date 1760. There was a profound silence as the ring was carefully and reverently passed from hand to hand.
‘Who can they be?’ Jane Grayson asked. ‘If that pretty little baby has survived, he must be all of fifty-six years. Where can he be? What can have become of him?’
‘I do not rightly know,’ Adam said. ‘And after this lapse of time, it will be nigh on impossible to find out.’
‘But if the skeleton and the mother and baby were members of the Westbury family, would not Sir Benjamin know who they were?’
Charlotte spoke with some excitement. She’d always been interested in history and this corpse had excited her curiosity rather than horror or aversion. Adam looked at her with gentle approval.
‘Yes, undoubtedly, Miss Grayson, and back at the office in King’s Lynn there is a deed box relating to the whole family, complete with names and dates of birth. It may take time, but it should be possible to find out who the unfortunate young man was.
Outside, the storm had run its course and the sky had cleared, just ready for sunset. It promised to be a pleasant and tranquil evening, perfectly calm now, and he should be able to ride home comfortably.
Jane Grayson pressed the two lawyers to stay for dinner. ‘We have a good mutton pie, made with Mrs Palmer’s delectable pastry,’ she said. ‘And a nice big ham shank boiled with baby onions and she always makes a good fruit pudding when she knows gentlemen are staying for dinner.’
Adam Brown refused politely. ‘Another time, perhaps, Mrs Grayson, ma’am, but I must travel to King’s Lynn. I shall inform Sir Benjamin of this unhappy discovery and then I wish to get out my strong boxes and look up the Westbury family history. I shall send word to my housekeeper to delay my supper for a couple of hours. But, thank you. It was a kind thought.’
Matthew was more apologetic. ‘I am conscious that Aunt Lavinia will wonder what has become of me,’ he said. ‘She herself might have been somewhat unnerved by the storm and it would be upsetting for her were I to be unexpectedly late home.’
Jane had no answer to this. After all, how many times had she advised the girls to observe closely how a prospective bridegroom treated his mother? In this case, it was of course his Aunt Lavinia, but still, the sort of loyalty and consideration shown to his aunt would definitely be lavished on his bride, she thought.
No, she could not argue against either of their decisions, but instead said gracefully, ‘I do understand. Another time then. Give my kind regards to your aunt, Matthew. You will have much to talk about when you tell her of our dreadful discovery.’
In spite of the warmth of the fire, Kitty shivered as though with a sudden chill and glanced fearfully over her shoulder. ‘I feel as though someone has just stepped over my grave,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, poor thing, dying alone like that and with only the portrait of his dear wife and child to comfort him. And that sweet-looking wife and the dear little baby. What on earth became of them, I wonder?’
‘Who knows?’ Matthew said. ‘Perhaps no one ever will.’
Kitty’s gentle grey eyes were still shining with unshed tears when the two men bowed to the ladies and Matthew kissed Charlotte’s hand.
Robert brought round the horses and they set off, Adam to his lonely house and Matthew to his lovely Aunt Lavinia and supper.
CHAPTER TWO
Matthew King always felt a deep sense of peace and security as he rounded the final bend of the road and came at last in sight of home. He’d been out early that morning and must now have been away for twelve hours, so that it was doubly pleasant to see Primrose Cottage again. In spite of his familiarity with his surroundings, he often felt as though he’d come across it suddenly and was always struck anew by its beauty and tranquillity. Today was no exception.
It had been known as Primrose Cottage as long as anyone could remember because of the obvious spring beauty of a bank of primroses near the garden gate. There was a gurgling fast-moving stream nearby and Matthew paused for a moment to listen to the water, rushing and chuckling over the smooth pebbles on its bed. After the recent rain, the stream was swollen and everything shone and sparkled. The birds which had been silent during the thunderstorm now hopped about and pulled out worms from ground softened by the downpour. There were a few bright butterflies hovering over the flowers in the garden and his aunt was at the gate, shading her eyes with her hand as she waited for him.
He dismounted and handed the reins to Joshua, Aunt Lavinia’s elderly servant, who led the horse to the stables to be fed and watered. Then Matthew and his aunt went into Primrose Cottage arm in arm. Once more, he felt the sense of calm and safety, all the more remarkable after that violent thunderstorm and the startlingly gruesome revelations at Westbury Hall. The feel of his aunt’s graceful hand on his arm was both comfortable and comforting and did much to drive away the horror of the day’s events. Half an hour later, as they sat together in the comfortable dining-room, he was even more relaxed. As he looked at her calm and tranquil face, Matthew reflected that his beautiful aunt really suited this house.
It was a large cottage, but not big enough to be a farmhouse, so it was spacious and cosy, both at the same time. The church clock in the village had already struck six and Matthew waited with ill-concealed impatience as Annie served supper and poured out wine for them. He was in a fever for her to leave the room so that he could speak freely to his aunt of the discovery up at the Hall.
Aunt Lavinia was suitably impatient to hear his tale and flatteringly swift in her dismissal of the maid. Tall and stately, she was young for an aunt, barely five and forty, and although her golden hair had some strands of silver, she still had a handsome bloom.
Matthew, sitting opposite to her, was once more struck by his aunt’s calm beauty. With her clear brow and glossy hair, she looked no more than thirty. For the thousandth time, he wondered why she had never married. He knew she was very comfortably off and, being his godmother, had chosen to devote herself to his own upbringing after his parents had died. But still…. She must have had opportunities to find happiness herself….
As though aware of her nephew’s gaze, Aunt Lavinia raised her eyes to his and said gently, ‘Now tell me everything, Matthew. I can see that it is something momentously important.’ Her full lips parted in a smile. ‘Has Adam suddenly sacked you? Has dear Charlotte consented to marry you? Have you become executor to a famous Norwich millionaire? Tell me, I beg you. I am agog with speculation. Annie will not disturb us again until we are ready to move into the drawing-room.’
How did she know that he had so much on his mind, he wondered? But then, she had been able to read him since he was a small child. He smiled to himself and needed no second bidding to describe the finding of the skeleton in such vivid detail that his aunt quite forgot to eat and could only exclaim, ‘How dreadful! What a terrible story and fancy that miniature in his signet ring. Poor young man. I hope his wife and child were saved!’
There was a silence and then she said, ‘It seems that Sir Benjamin intends to take up residence again very soon. It is a very splendid house, but what a gloomy place, especially the old part. It must be a nightmare for the servants, so
many dark corners and long passages. I wonder Mrs Grayson could stand it for a whole year. Of course, those two lovely girls must bring so much light and laughter to the place, I daresay she does not even notice. By the way, Annie has heard from Mrs Palmer that the purchase of Felbrook Manor is now complete and they will be moving shortly.’
‘Yes, but they will still not be so very far away, no more than a couple of miles, Aunt.’
She looked at him more keenly. ‘And you will still be able to visit just as often, eh, Matthew?’
‘Yes, just as often, Aunt.’
‘And now you have achieved your advancement with Adam – Mr Brown, that is – you will be thinking of wedding bells, perhaps?’
Matthew coloured slightly and said, ‘Aunt Lavinia, you are incorrigible. No wedding bells just yet. I need to make my way in the world first and be able to earn enough to keep a wife in some style and comfort.’
‘Of course,’ said his aunt and continued to smile as they made their way to the drawing-room.
As his Aunt Lavinia rang for tea, Matthew set up the card table. He knew that his aunt would return to the grisly subject of the dead body while the game was in progress and he wondered how the Grayson family had taken the appalling discovery at Westbury Hall and what they were doing at that moment.
The Grayson family, in fact, were remarkably cheerful, despite the macabre circumstances of the skeleton. Although the drawing-room at Westbury Hall was rather a dismal environment, the red gold of the setting sun, now that the storm clouds had rolled away, cast a more benign light, which even the massive oak doorcases and the heavy old-fashioned curtains hanging in the south bay were unable to dispel. The discovery of the skeleton had at first lowered everyone’s spirits, but with her usual positive outlook on life, Jane Grayson had said bracingly, ‘Poor young man, he must have died so lonely and bereft, but still, my dears, he is now hopefully reunited with his loved ones in heaven, as we all hope to be one day.’
A Particular Circumstance Page 2