“Of course,” Lucy said, glad she had remembered the false name she had given. She set to carving. No fish? That surprised her too. The magistrate’s son was not one to skimp for. Although Master Hargrave no longer entertained very often, he always ensured both fish and fowl appeared on his table when he invited acquaintances to dine. Adding to her surprise, Sulwen poured some water into the wine, something the magistrate would never allow.
Seeing her look, Sulwen giggled. “My lord does not like my lady to have strong spirits. He thinks they do not agree with her.”
Though skeptical, Lucy smiled. “I’m sure watering down the wine is a very good idea then.”
As they filled platters full of food, they heard a distant knocking at the front door. “Oh!” Sulwen said. “I didn’t know Lady Cumberland was expecting any more guests.” She looked doubtfully at the meal, which was looking decidedly meager. “Oh, what else can I serve?” She began to peer fretfully at the shelves.
Lucy felt sorry for her. In some households, the mistress would beat her servants if they embarrassed her in front of her guests. No matter that the mistress had given her servants insufficient coins to make the table plentiful—a good servant, as was well understood, was one who knew how to make do.
Frowning, Sulwen peeked her head into the hallway. “Oh, it’s the Earl’s son,” she said, visibly relaxing. “Master Clifford’s not the picky sort. I wonder what he’s doing here? I haven’t seen him around for some time now.”
“Oh? He doesn’t live here then?” Lucy asked casually, pretending that she did not know that the Earl’s son had taken up residence at the Sparrow.
“No, he lives elsewhere in London; I’m not sure where. Odd, he’s not being one for socializing or fancy dinners.” She brightened. “Betcha anything he stops in here for a nibble.” At that, Lucy had to smile. Young men always seemed to find their way to the kitchen, often to flirt with the maids, but just as often to get an extra tidbit.
Seeing that it was almost time to serve, Lucy didn’t want to miss her chance. Hurriedly, she tried to get back to the topic they’d been discussing before. “What did she get dismissed for?” Lucy asked, giving the pot a stir. “The girl you replaced.”
Sulwen glanced at her. Lucy could see the desire to spill the household secrets warring with her sense of duty and loyalty.
“We had a girl put out for theft once,” Lucy lied, hoping to encourage some confidences. “I’m not even sure she took the thing.”
“Yeah?”
“A trifle. A necklace. Not even a very fine one at that.” She waited for Sulwen to respond, and when she didn’t, Lucy pressed a bit more. “Is that what happened to the miss you replaced?”
The desire to gossip won out against any sense of loyalty to the Earl. “Amelie, her name was. I don’t rightfully know, to be honest. I think though,” Sulwen stopped, pausing for effect. “I heard she did something dreadful, but that’s not why she was sent off.”
Lucy lowered her tone. “What did she do?”
Sulwen looked around, the gesture furtive and cautious. “They said she tried to murder the Earl’s son, but I don’t think that’s true.”
Something in the way Sulwen said those last words caused Lucy to peer at her. “You don’t think so?”
“Some people said the young master had his way with her, and then cast her off. But I can’t see it in him. He was so melancholic. Lacking in life. Like he’d lost the very will to live, the will to breathe. And the girl died, you know. I heard that later. I feel so very sorry for him sometimes.”
Lucy took a deep breath. Sulwen still had the air of someone who knew more than what she wanted to say. “Perhaps their affair … they left something behind?”
Sulwen looked at her sharply. Lucy kept her face vaguely interested as if she were just passing the time with idle gossip. Sulwen seemed satisfied and continued. “A baby. I knew a girl who was the babe’s wet nurse. No one was saying much, but we knew. I heard the girl said she’d been driven out by my lady. Bit of a terror, ain’t she? I might be leaving service myself.” Then the girl smiled. “He’s a good healthy babe, that’s for sure. I’ve seen him around.” She looked down the hallway. “We’ve got to make haste,” she said briskly. “Don’t tell anyone what I said. About the babe. They might let me go and I can’t leave ’til I get a proper reference.”
Lucy nodded, placing some dishes on a tray. “I’ll help you serve.”
To their dismay, however, when Sulwen pushed open the door, they found Master Clifford standing there, looking stricken. Maybe he’d come to the kitchen to get a bit before supper as Sulwen had thought. From his expression, it was clear he’d heard every word. “Amelie’s baby was mine?” he asked, dully. “I thought she had lied about that. Cuckolded me, ran off to be with her real love. Could that be true?”
Sulwen’s freckled face flushed a deep, unbecoming shade of red. “Sir!” she cried. “Begging your pardon, Master Clifford. I should not have repeated such gossip. To a stranger, no less.”
Master Clifford did not seem to have heard her. His eyes swept over Lucy. She ducked her head so that he would not recognize her from the Sparrow, but she didn’t think he’d even noticed her presence. Beside her, Sulwen twisted her hands anxiously. “Sir, I—” she broke off.
As they watched, he stumbled backward out of the kitchen. Through the open door they saw him enter a different room and shut the heavy wooden door behind him.
“That’s my Lord’s private room,” Sulwen said. She glowered at Lucy. “If I get let go because of you…”
“We’d best take these trays in,” Lucy interrupted. As they walked to the dining room, they heard the door open behind them.
Master Clifford stepped out, one arm clasped oddly behind his back. “Mother!” he shouted. “Mother! I need to speak to you!”
Lady Cumberland opened the drawing room door. “Francis!” She hissed through gritted teeth. “Stop that shouting at once! Supper is ready, as you can see.” She glared at Sulwen, who had backed up against the wall. “Why are you cowering there, girl? Set the supper on the table!”
As Lucy walked in with Sulwen, her eyes met Adam’s. He, Miss Water, and Lord Cumberland had all risen at the ruckus. Seeing the question in his eyes, Lucy mouthed “baby.” For a moment Adam looked confused, then his brow cleared. He looked wary.
Ignoring the guests, Francis Clifford turned toward his mother. “Mother, tell me at once. What truly happened to Amelie? You told me that she’d lied to me about the baby being mine!”
Lady Cumberland gasped, paling noticeably. “What a thing to say!”
“Is it true?”
“Francis! This is hardly the time to—”
“It is the time, Mother! I want answers!” He moved closer to his mother, who had recovered herself and was standing proudly by a great silver urn. Everyone else was still frozen. He asked his mother again. “Did Amelie have my baby? I know you know. I could never understand why you dismissed her.”
“That young woman stole from us, I told you so!”
“No! I don’t believe you!” Master Clifford shouted. “And to tell everyone that she had tried to poison me! Mother, why did you do such a thing? You know that I took that poison myself!”
Lady Cumberland sniffed. “If that harlot was with child I’m quite sure she had no idea who the father was. I had to dismiss her, before she spread tales, and ruined our good name.” She looked at her husband. “William, please take care of Francis.”
Lord Cumberland nodded slowly, his face suddenly strained. He looked at Sulwen, who still looked white-faced and stricken. “My son is … unwell. Get Burly—he’ll be at the neighbor’s stable, seeing to my horse. Mind you tell him to hurry.”
Sulwen bobbed a quick curtsy, and fled the room, her eyes wide. This would be quite a tale to tell when she moved on to her next employment.
Without warning, Frances Clifford pulled a small flintlock pistol from behind his back and aimed it at his mother.
; They all froze. “Son,” Lord Cumberland said warily. “Put the gun down.”
Master Clifford jerked his head at Adam and Miss Water. “You two! Sit down. Over there!” He pointed to one of the embroidered benches that ran the length of the table.
“Hey, there,” Adam started. “There’s no need for this.”
Master Clifford swiveled back to face Adam. “One more word from you and I’m going to shoot one of you.” He waved the flintlock at Lucy again. “You, go stand over there.”
Lucy did as she was told, warily watching the pistol. Even though she hadn’t seen too many guns with her own eyes, their effects were everywhere, found in the injured older men like Avery, who had fought in the King’s battles with Cromwell when she was young. She also knew he’d only have time to fire once before needing to reload, but she didn’t want anyone to be hurt, or worse.
She moved to stand next to Miss Water, putting her hand on her shoulder to steady the shaking woman.
“She was beneath you,” Lady Cumberland said to her son. Lucy winced at her tone.
“Martha!” her husband whispered hoarsely. “Stop talking.”
“No, Father,” Master Clifford said. “I should like to hear what Mother has to say. Amelie was my wife! Yes, that’s right.” He said to his father. “I married her. I did. I’m ashamed now that I kept it a secret.”
The Earl sank back, a blank look on his face. “You married a servant?” For a moment he seemed quite overcome. Then he drew a great breath. “Your wife!” he shouted, no longer heeding the loaded gun in his son’s hands. “Lower our name in such a fashion! Reduce our circumstances! I didn’t build this family name up for years only for you to wreck it by marrying my maid!”
Lucy flinched at his words. She didn’t dare look at Adam. The Earl wasn’t directing his speech at her, but he may as well have been. He went on, shaking his fist at his son. “We expected you to marry a baroness, or a viscount’s daughter. How dare you cast aside everything we gave you?!”
“How dare you cast away my Amelie! I was just,” he gulped, “biding my time. I knew you and Mother would never approve!” He thumped angrily on the table. “Do you know, I thought we would run off, start a new life. I never cared about the title, or my inheritance. But she did not want me to cast myself from my family! She thought I would regret it! So we married in secret.”
“That priest had no right to marry you!” his mother exclaimed. “I told him so! Right before—” She broke off, clapping her hand involuntarily over her mouth.
“Right before you struck him across his head?” Lucy finished, without thinking how it would sound. “That was a fatal blow!”
“Mother!” Master Clifford exclaimed, looking aghast at his mother. “You killed the priest?”
“Certainly not! That was Burly! He acted to protect us. He heard me trying to reason with the priest. The man kept saying he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I could not trust that he would keep silent about the marriage. It seemed better to scrub out all traces. So when he turned away, Burly knew what to do.”
The Earl stood up then, trying to quiet his wife. “That’s enough, my dear!” He looked at Adam and Miss Water. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Master Clifford was looking at his mother, dully. “How did you find out about our marriage?”
Not heeding her husband’s attempts to keep her from speaking, Lady Cumberland answered the question. “I saw the harlot with your father’s ring around her neck, and I accused her of stealing. Imagine how surprised I was when that vixen declared that the two of you had married.” His mother’s voice grew more shrill. “Your father gave you that ring, so that you would feel pride in what he had done! You threw everything we worked for away! We, who started with nothing!”
“I knew you had stolen that title!” Master Clifford replied. “I knew my father was no rightful heir! That’s why I told Amelie it mattered not that we got married.”
“You gave up on the bitch quick enough,” his father said cruelly, “when we told you she was a thief, and that she was carrying the babe of another man!” With a sniff, he turned away.
“You who would commit self-murder,” his mother spat at her son. “I did this to protect you, to save your father’s name! That title was hard-won! I wouldn’t see you losing everything that we had gained. Not for a whore! Her own father blasphemed her body after she died! Carved a brooch out of her bones! We could not be associated with such madness!”
“A brooch?” Master Clifford asked, his face growing paler as he tried to fathom the idea. “He made a brooch from her bones?” His despair seemed unbearable. But his grip on the pistol remained true.
The room was still. Then, the Earl whirled around to face Lucy, his rage barely contained. “Who are you? How did you know about the priest? Were you one of the scoundrels blackmailing me? Tell me! Were you working with that guttersnipe from the tavern?! I suppose you want to end up like her!”
Lucy shook her head, starting to tremble. From the corner of her eye she could tell Adam was trying to signal something to her, but she could not understand what he was trying to communicate.
The Earl went on. “I must have been in my cups one night, talking a little too much about my life before I inherited my title. That card sharp Jack was there, and so was that blasted wench from the tavern. The next thing I knew, I was being blackmailed. Getting malicious notes, claiming my title was not legitimate! Saying that my son had secretly married the village whore!” He moved closer to her. “Was that you?”
“No! No! I didn’t blackmail you! That was all Tilly!” Lucy cried. Then she stopped, realizing what he had said. She hardly noticed when Adam edged off the bench and was moving carefully along the short end of the table. Miss Water was still sitting as she had been, trying to contain her own shaking. “Wait! You knew that it was Tilly who had been blackmailing you!”
Trying to keep them from paying attention to Adam, who was sidling closer to Master Clifford, Lucy asked the Earl. “Who was it that killed Tilly? You? Or, like your wife, did you have one of your servants do your treacherous deeds?” Lucy paused. “Only Tilly was poisoned first.” She had a sudden image of the old woman spitting into the soup at the Fox and Duck. She turned back to Lady Cumberland. “You did send your servant! Theresa! Theresa poisoned her, didn’t she?”
“Why must you interfere?!” Lady Cumberland screamed, an odd garbled sound. The next instant, she lunged toward Lucy, her outstretched fingers reaching for her neck.
At that same instant, Master Clifford pointed the gun at his mother and pulled the trigger. It clicked, but did not fire. Taking advantage of the delay, Adam hurled himself on Master Clifford. This time, the pistol’s delayed shot went off with a terrible roar.
After a stunned second, and with her ears ringing from the gun’s loud report, Lucy thrust Lady Cumberland from her. As she did, she caught sight of Adam reeling backward, blood streaming down the side of his head and Master Clifford slumping silently to the floor, not moving.
“Adam!” she screamed, leaping toward him. “Adam!”
Lucy flew to Adam’s side. Mustering every bit of strength she had, Lucy forced herself to check if he was still breathing. The left side of his face was covered with black gunpowder, and blood was streaming from the side of his head. His eyes were closed and he appeared to have passed out. He was, however, breathing and his heart was beating determinedly.
“Thank God,” she gasped. She began to tear patches from her petticoat, holding the straggly bits of material to the part of his head that seemed to be gushing the most blood. Lucy felt herself growing faint. She glanced over at Miss Water, who was still half-crouched, as if her mind could no longer remember what her body had been doing when the gunshot rang out. “Miss Water!” Lucy shouted, even though they were separated only by a few lengths. “You must get help. Find Duncan—he should be nearby! Adam needs a physician straightaway! There’s no time to lose. I do not know how badly he’s been hurt.”
Darting a quick fearful glance at Adam, Miss Water raced out of the room. Like Lucy, she’d spent a lifetime taking orders from others, mainly from her father. Lucy patted at Adam’s face, trying to wipe the blood and gunpowder from his face with a bit of wine from the pitcher.
To her relief, he opened his eyes. “I’m all right,” he said, his jaw clenched in pain.
“You’re not all right,” she said. “But you will be. I will summon Dr. Larimer.”
Behind her, she could hear Lady Cumberland calling out to her son. “I did it for us! I did it for us!” Lucy heard her moaning. “The scandal would have been too great. We’d only just been accepted by Society.”
Forcing herself to look, she could see that Master Clifford was still laying in the same unnatural position. She could not tell if he was dead or not.
The next moment, the door burst open. The Earl strode back into the room, followed by two large men. Jonesie and Burly, she assumed. Sulwen, she could see, was peering behind them, her hands to her mouth in shock. “Master Clifford?” She gasped, her eyes darting fearfully at the Earl. She whispered, “I think he’s dead.”
Hardly sparing a glance at his son, the Earl went over to his wife. “Martha,” Lucy heard him murmur, “there’s nothing we can do for the boy. We must go.” As he straightened up, he said to the men, “Take care of this,” gesturing expansively to everyone in the room. “I’ll pay you well, never you fear.”
Lady Cumberland stood up, still imperious, even with her half-crazed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She kissed her husband on the cheek. “You go. I’ll be with Theresa upstairs.” Though she’d regained her composure, her expression looked like that of a trapped animal. She swept from the room, the Earl on her heels.
Lucy looked up at the two men, who were still staring in confusion at the scene around them. Wildly, she hoped they wouldn’t understand the Earl’s message.
That hope disappeared when Burly picked up a large water pitcher. Hefting it in his hands, he felt the weight. “I’ll take her,” he said. “You take him.”
From the Charred Remains (Lucy Campion Mysteries) Page 26