Death Comes to the Village

by Catherine Lloyd

  She bit her lip. “Are you suggesting I’m not good enough?”

  “Of course not, my dear. But unlike your sister, you certainly aren’t that young anymore.”

  “You assume Anna will marry and I won’t?”

  He avoided her gaze. “She is the acknowledged beauty of the family.”

  “And I don’t begrudge her that in the slightest, but I have other abilities a man might find attractive. I’m an excellent housekeeper and already know how to bring up a child.”

  “Daughter, you misunderstand me. There are probably many men, older men who have been widowed as I was, who would welcome a woman with your qualities into their home.” He hesitated. “But I always assumed you would stay here and look after me.”

  Lucy’s heart jolted in her chest. “You would deny me the opportunity to even seek a husband?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but it is hardly my fault that you have scarcely stirred much notice in our local community. Both of the Hathaway boys have expressed an interest in Anna, as has Nicholas Jenkins. I believe even Major Kurland views her favorably.” Her father brightened. “Now there’s an idea. Why don’t you take her with you next time you visit the manor house?”

  “You’ve always told me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that such physical attributes are ephemeral and not to be trusted.”

  “In a spiritual sense, that is true, but beauty is much prized in the marriage market. It is the way of the world, my dear.”

  “But what if I was offered the opportunity to go to London and seek a husband there?”

  He sat back. “I’m not willing to go to the expense of sending you to London for a Season.” His voice gentled. “It would be cruel to raise such hopes only to have them dashed. You don’t need to go to London to find a husband. If you are set on it, I’m sure young Edward would be honored to marry you.”

  “Your curate?” Lucy shuddered. “I would not marry Edward if he was the last man on earth.”

  “There’s no need to be so dramatic. If you seriously wish to marry, he would make the perfect candidate. You could continue to live here, and life could go on the same as always.”

  Didn’t he know that was what she feared the most? At her continuing silence, he carried on.

  “In fact, as I’ve already arranged for Anna to go up to London next year, I will need you here more than ever.”

  Lucy’s fingernails dug into her palms. “Anna is going to London?”

  “I haven’t mentioned it to her yet, but I’ve been corresponding with my eldest brother’s wife, the present countess, and she is willing to bring Anna out with her youngest daughter.”

  “But what about me? I—”

  “Enough, Lucy!” He slammed his hand down on his desk. “I can only deplore your appalling self-interest and advise you to read your Bible very carefully tonight to remind yourself of your familial obligations.”

  “But—”

  “Enough.” He stood up. “Your ingratitude hurts me deeply, child. Now go to your room.”

  She stared at him, her throat hurting with unshed tears. She curtsied and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

  “Miss Harrington?”

  Briefly, Lucy closed her eyes. “What is it, Betty?”

  “The twins have been asking for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  She picked up her skirts and started up the stairs.

  “Miss Harrington?” Betty followed and held something out to her. “What with all the excitement over Mary, I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Fielding found your gloves in the kitchen the other day. She threatened to throw them on the rubbish heap, so I cleaned them up as best as I could. I wasn’t sure if you wanted them or not.”

  Lucy held out her hand. “Thank you, Betty. I’d forgotten all about my gloves. I’ll take a good look in the morning and decide what to do with them. Good night.”

  “Night, miss.” Betty nodded and went back down the stairs.

  Lucy carried on upward and paused at the second staircase that led up to the nursery. At this moment, she didn’t want to see the twins. They would sense she was upset, and she didn’t want to cry in front of them for something that wasn’t their fault. Her father’s comments about her ingratitude and lack of filial responsibility revolved through her thoughts like a whirlpool. Hadn’t she done enough for him? Would he ever consider that she had? Why hadn’t she flat-out told him about her invitation from the Hathaways?

  She went into her bedchamber, appreciating the warmth of the small fire, lit a candle, and sat beside the hearth, her feet tucked under her. Despite the heat, she was shivering. How could he have spoken to her like that? His remarks were a mixture of pitying condescension and selfishness that had made her yearn to scream at him. She’d always done her duty. It was hardly surprising that none of the local men had ever considered her as a potential wife. She already appeared to be one!

  She found herself smiling. How ironic that Mrs. Fielding provided her father with the one thing she couldn’t. In truth, as far as he was concerned, between the two of them, he had the perfect substitute wife. Why would he want to change anything? And to suggest that she marry Edward was adding insult to injury. She would rather die.

  A strange smell wafted up from her lap and she realized she still held her gloves clenched tightly in her hand. There were bloodstains on the right glove that even Betty’s scrubbing had failed to remove. Where had it come from? She forced her mind not to dwell on the crushing of her hopes, and instead reconstructed her journey on the day of Mary’s disappearance.

  She remembered putting on her gloves after leaving Kurland Hall. As neither she nor Foley had noticed blood on them at that point, she had to assume she’d touched something on the way back to the rectory. But what? She pictured the trampled pathway and the open gate. She didn’t recall any blood on the wooden posts but had wondered if there had been a disturbance there. Had she rested her hand anywhere else?

  Tomorrow, when she returned from her visit to Major Kurland, she would take the shortcut past the church and retrace her steps. If there was any blood to be found, she was sure to discover it.

  Chapter 10

  “Father asked me to accompany you on your visit to Kurland Hall this morning. Do you need me to carry something?”

  Lucy shut the drawer containing the twins’ socks and turned to Anna. Her youngest siblings were in the village having a supervised walk with Jane, and for once, all was quiet in the rectory.

  “You are welcome to come with me if you wish, but I don’t have any special commissions for you.”

  “I wonder why he was so insistent, then?” Anna followed Lucy down the stairs into the hallway. “He must know Major Kurland isn’t receiving visitors.”

  “You are hardly a visitor. Isn’t it obvious? Papa thinks the sight of your beautiful face would do the major good.”

  Anna’s smile dimmed. “There’s no need to be sharp, Lucy. I swear I didn’t ask if I could come with you.”

  “I know you didn’t. It’s just that . . .” Lucy paused. “Papa would be delighted if you managed to ensnare the major.”

  “Don’t be silly. I have no intention of even trying to engage the major’s attention. He is far too old and obstinate for me to manage.” Anna bowed with an elaborate flourish. “I leave the way clear for you.”

  “I doubt he’s about to propose to me. He thinks I’m an interfering busybody.”

  Anna mock-sighed. “Oh well, perhaps neither of us will be lady of the manor.” She picked up a letter that lay on the hall table. “Did you see this? It’s addressed to you. Another secret admirer?”

  Lucy glanced down at the letter, but there was no return address written on the outside, only her name in a script she didn’t recognize. Was it possible that William Bowden had replied to her so quickly? She went through to the back parlor and used her paper knife to split the wax seal.

  “It’s from Susan O’Brien.”

  “The maid who was a friend of
Mary’s?” Anna followed her in.

  “Yes. She says she has something to tell me, and would I please visit at my earliest convenience.” Lucy reread the note and then placed it on her desk. “I wonder what she wants.”

  “And why she couldn’t simply write it down, and save you a journey,” Anna remarked.

  “She didn’t write this herself. I doubt she can. Mr. Spencer, the butler, wrote it for her. She probably didn’t want him to know her secrets.” Lucy put away the paper knife. “I intended to visit the Hathaways today on another matter. I’ll make sure to speak to Susan while I’m there.”

  Anna turned back to the door and groaned. “And I promised Jane I’d help sort out the twins’ linen closet this morning. I suppose I’d better make a start while it’s quiet. Give my regards to the Hathaways and to Major Kurland.”

  “Anna, I don’t mind if you want to visit Major Kurland in my stead,” Lucy said. “My usefulness to him is at an end. He no longer needs a nurse, and he would probably prefer a charming companion like you to keep his spirits up.”

  Anna looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t want him, Lucy. Even if he begged me to be his bride, I’d still say no. I want to go to London. I want to have choices, and marrying the first eligible man I ever met is not in my future.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “I know it, here.”

  Lucy let her go without saying anything further. Anna had no idea that she was likely to get her wish and have the opportunity to meet as many eligible men as she wanted. Lucy didn’t begrudge her the opportunity. She just wished she could persuade her father that she deserved the same chance. On that lowering thought, Lucy went upstairs to put on her bonnet and cloak.

  “I didn’t know you were engaged to be married, Major.”

  Robert angled his head so that Bookman could shave his jaw more cleanly. “I think you were wounded at the time and missed all the fun.”

  “When I had that nasty bullet wound in my thigh that wouldn’t heal? That would be the year before last.”

  “That’s right. I came to London to celebrate my cousin Henrietta’s marriage to that bore, Northam. I met Miss Chingford then.”

  “You didn’t mention it.”

  “To be honest, I almost forgot about it when we returned to France. It seemed somehow . . . unreal.”

  “Hmmph.” Bookman expertly wiped the blade. “I don’t recall her writing to you.”

  “I told her not to. I wasn’t convinced I was going to survive.”

  “Sounds rather odd to me, sir.”

  “Just because you got letters from your sweetheart doesn’t mean that everyone was so lucky. How is she, by the way? Ouch.” Robert winced as the knife grazed his skin.

  “Sorry, sir. You’ve talked at just the wrong moment.” Bookman dabbed at the blood. “Keep still for a moment while I finish your throat.”

  Robert held his tongue until Bookman placed a warm towel under his chin and applied a piece of sticking plaster to the stinging wound. “There you are, sir.”

  “I’m not sure if my aunt told you, but I plan to go downstairs and hold court in the front parlor. Can you and James get me down there in my chair?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It is necessary because Miss Chingford refuses to come into my bedchamber and speak to me.”

  “So Mrs. Armitage said.” Bookman picked up the bowl of soapy water and threw it out the window. “Is Miss Chingford from a good family, sir?”

  “Naturally.”

  “I thought as much. I heard her tell your aunt that the house was much smaller than she had imagined and that it needed a lot of improvements.”

  “Did she.” Robert wiped shaving soap from his chin. “Do I detect a lack of enthusiasm for my potential bride?”

  “It’s not my place to say anything, sir.”

  “You’ll just hint at your disapproval instead, then.” Robert threw the towel on the floor. “In truth, Bookman, I don’t know what I was thinking when I proposed to the woman. I’m not even sure that I did. I danced with her, took her out in my curricle, and visited her at home. Suddenly everyone assumed we were a couple and, even worse, she seemed to think so, too.”

  “I thought you were adept at avoiding such matrimonial lures.”

  “So did I.” Robert grimaced. “And as a gentleman, I cannot withdraw from the agreement.”

  “Why not?” Bookman retrieved the towel, his expression uncompromising. “Why is it right for a woman to let a man down, and not the other way around?”

  “Perhaps that’s why she wanted to see me—to break it off.”

  “I don’t know about that, sir. The way she’s walking around the house telling everyone how she’s going to improve it, and get rid of all of your servants in favor of new staff, I think she’s planning on staying.”

  “Then I’d better make it clear to her that none of my staff are going anywhere.”

  “Trust me, they’ll be leaving if she marries you.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence, Bookman.”

  “You’re welcome, sir. Now, let’s get you dressed. Do you want to wear your uniform?”

  “Good God, no.” Robert shuddered. “That’s what got me into this situation in the first place. Women love a scarlet coat. I’ll wear my usual breeches, a shirt, and a cravat, and cover it all up with my banyan. I’m not struggling into one of my coats, even for Miss Chingford.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  As Bookman helped him into his clothes, Robert checked the time. Would Miss Harrington visit him today? He still wasn’t sure if he should call her off. There was still the matter of the thieving and the disappearance of the two girls to be discussed. But how could he do that in the presence of his aunt and Miss Chingford? He picked up the copy of Ackermann’s Repository that Miss Harrington had left with him.

  “Bookman, what do you make of this contraption? Do you think the estate carpenter is capable of making me a wheeled chair of some sort?”

  “I didn’t broach the matter of my accompanying you completely, but my father led me to understand that he intends to send Anna to London next year to stay with my uncle and aunt.” Lucy tried to force a smile. “If that is his intention, I can hardly leave home, as well.”

  “Why not?” Sophia sat down next to Lucy on the couch with a thump. “That’s not fair. You are the oldest.”

  “I know.” Lucy contemplated the Turkish rug. “But—”

  “But nothing, Lucy. If Mama and I are willing to take you, and it will hardly cost him a penny, there is nothing more to be said. How can he deny you such an opportunity?”

  “He said that if I went, I would only be disappointed because no one would want to marry me.”

  “What a horrible thing to say.” Sophia squeezed her hand hard. “You might not be as beautiful as Anna, but you have other attributes that any man of intelligence would be sure to recognize.”

  Lucy looked up into Sophia’s indignant face. “Thank you. I must confess I was feeling rather sorry for myself.”

  Sophia embraced her. “Try not to fall into a fit of the dismals quite yet. Mayhap my mother and I can put our heads together and find a way to circumvent your father. He cannot keep you all to himself, and you are definitely not marrying the curate.”

  Lucy kissed her on the cheek. “I have to go. Give your family my love.”

  “I will, and I’ll ask my mother if we’ve had anything stolen recently.”

  “I visited the Jenkins house before yours, and Lady Foster said she would look into the matter, as well.”

  “Was Nicholas there?”

  “No, only his grandmother. He probably saw Anna hadn’t accompanied me and ran away.”

  Sophia laughed. “You underestimate yourself.”

  “On the contrary, I know my own worth. Nicholas Jenkins is smitten with my sister, who, of course, has no intention of returning his regard even though his grandfather is a viscount.” She sighed. “It must be pleasant to be beautiful and aspire to marry a duke.”


  Sophia hugged her. “You are so funny, Lucy.”

  “Thank you.” She blew her friend a last kiss and headed down the stairs to the kitchen, where she hoped to find Susan. Luckily for her, the maid was sitting at the big table having a cup of tea.

  “Good morning, Susan.” Lucy nodded at the girl and then turned to the cook. “May I speak to Susan for a moment?”

  “If you are quick. She has the beds to finish yet.”

  Susan left her seat and followed Lucy out into the deserted corridor that led toward the back door.

  “What exactly did you want to tell me, Susan?”

  Her companion stared down at the black-and-white-tiled floor. “It was about Mary, miss.”

  “What about her?”

  “She wasn’t a good friend to me!” Susan burst out. “She stole my man.”

  “Indeed. Which man would that be?”

  “My William.”

  “William Bowden?”

  “Yes. He came to work at your rectory after he’d been here, and she stole him from me!”

  “Do you think that’s where she’s gone? To William?”

  “Probably, miss. She would love to hold that over me for the rest of my life.”

  Susan’s voice rang with resentment and echoed around the narrow space. “And she had plenty of beaux to choose from. She didn’t need to steal mine.”

  “I’m sorry, Susan.” Lucy touched the girl’s rigid shoulder. “I’ll try to find out what happened between William and Mary. If she has gone to live with him, I’ll be relieved to hear that she is safe, but sad that she took something precious from you.”

  Susan stepped away. “Don’t you worry about me, miss. If he was so easily led astray by that worthless piece of skirt, then he wasn’t worth having in the first place, was he?”

  “An admirable sentiment, Susan. I’m sure you’ll find someone much better. I’ll be on my way. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “Thank you, Miss Harrington. I just thought you should know that Mary wasn’t quite as sweet as everyone seems to think.”