The Secrets of Scorton Hall: An Historical Regency Romance Mystery

by Kate Carteret

  I do hope that you will forgive me for my neglect of you these last weeks and continue to see me in the same way that you always have. It is my ardent wish that you be my groomsman at the wedding, although I am bound to say that I believe that will be the first time you meet my dear Meredith.

  Time does seem to have run away, and I am left scampering along behind it like a wounded man. I suppose it is all the awful business here and the attempt to return to normal which has seen time slip through my fingers and has made me a little disorganized.

  Meredith is very keen to meet you and talks of you often. For my part, I have told her so much of our boyhood antics that I believe she knows you almost as well as I do.

  All in all, it has been a great comfort to have her so close and to know that we will soon live side-by-side. I can only wish that you find the same happiness in your own life and the chance of a wife as fine as Meredith.

  I look forward to seeing you at the wedding and, in the meantime, I insist you take great care of yourself.

  Your friend as always,

  Clarence.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lady Greaves’ mansion was in the very heart of Oxford and Felicia was thoroughly enjoying the carriage ride through that excellent city. The beautiful stonework and wonderful spires of the University’s many colleges always gave her a feeling of inspiration. What a wonderful thing it must be to walk those corridors and know that every day was going to be filled with learning. She wondered idly if men had any idea whatsoever how privileged they truly were. Likely not.

  Lady Greaves was a wonderfully welcoming hostess and a woman of similar years to Lady Barton. She was clearly a very experienced lady in society, one who entertained regularly despite having been widowed a number of years before.

  “Oh, how wonderful to see you, Lady Barton. And you have brought your beautiful niece.” She smiled brilliantly at Felicia who immediately felt as if she had been wrapped in some warm embrace. “What a pleasure it is to meet you at last. Your aunt speaks so highly of you and so often that I feel I know you myself.”

  “What a kind thing to say, Lady Greaves. And it is a great pleasure for me to meet you also.” Felicia said genuinely.

  “Well, do make yourselves at home. I see I have a few more guests arriving if you would excuse me?” She said, smiling from one to the other.

  “Of course, of course.” Lady Barton said and waved her hand. “I think I know your drawing room as well as I know my own. We shall be perfectly all right, my dear.”

  “This is a very fine home, is it not?” Felicia said the moment she and her aunt were alone.

  “Yes, these town mansions are a little smaller than the country affairs, but I think they are so smart. Do you not think Lady Greaves wonderfully modern?”

  “She is.” Felicia nodded in agreement. “In her furnishing and in her manner. There is something a little informal about her and I think such things draw you closer to a person. I like her very much already and I can perfectly well understand why it is this drawing room is so full for a simple afternoon buffet.”

  “Ah, Lady Barton.” The deep and somewhat familiar voice came from behind them and both ladies turned to see none other than the Earl of Beaumont smiling at them. “I’m glad to see you here today, my dear.”

  “And I am glad to see you, Lord Beaumont.” Lady Barton smiled at him, careful not to catch her niece’s eyes.

  Felicia immediately became sensible of the whole thing; her aunt had told her that this was something of a regular event, a standing occasion, and she had no doubt whatsoever that both her aunt and Lord Beaumont attended almost every month.

  So much for her not knowing anybody there.

  “And Lady Felicia, how nice to see you again.” Lord Beaumont bowed deeply. “I trust you are well.”

  “I am very well, Lord Beaumont.” She inclined her head graciously. “As are you, I hope?”

  “Very well.”

  “I believe this is the first time we have seen you since Scorton Hall, Lord Beaumont.” Lady Barton said, clearly searching for a way to hold up the conversation whilst diverting her niece’s attention from her customary interference in her life.

  “Yes, it is.” He said and his expression became more serious for a moment.

  He looked very well indeed dressed in black knee breeches and boots with a black tailcoat, pale blue waistcoat, and high-necked shirt and cravat. His hair was that same wonderful mix of neat but overgrown, his chin shaved to perfection, and his eyes still as blue as any she had ever seen.

  “Have you seen anything of the Duke, Lord Beaumont?” Lady Barton went on.

  “I have not seen him, but I have heard from him.” He said and then held out an arm to indicate a deserted couch and chair under one of the large windows of the drawing room. “Would you care to sit for a while?”

  “Yes, of course.” Lady Barton looked victorious and Felicia stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

  Despite her aunt’s skullduggery, Felicia could not truly complain about the company of Lord Beaumont. He was a nice man and she really did like him a good deal.

  “Well, I have received a letter from Clarence, as I said.” He began the moment they were settled. “I am pleased to report that he is in good spirits.”

  “Oh good, because I rather thought the poor man looked ghastly the last time we saw him.” Lady Barton said and Felicia nodded her agreement. “Obviously with good reason.”

  “He tells me that the shadow cast over Scorton Hall is not as long as he had feared.”

  “A good thing when he is bringing a new bride into his home.” Lady Barton nodded sagely.

  “But what of Daisy? Is there any news?” Felicia said, keen to know if anyone would ever pay the price for such cruelty.

  “Unfortunately, not, Lady Felicia. The coroner has ruled it murder by a person or persons unknown. If I am honest, I doubt there will be anything further now.”

  “How I wish there was something that could be done,” Felicia said. “Somebody must surely know something. There must be some clue somewhere, something that The Watch and everybody else missed.”

  “The Watchmen are not renowned for looking too deeply, my dear, it is the way of things. It is not right, I grant you, but I cannot see that it will change.” Lady Barton said wisely. “I do wish we had brighter things to talk about on such a fine afternoon.”

  “So do I, but there is something which has bothered me ever since that day, something which I cannot get out of my mind.” Felicia said, determined on this occasion not to be diverted by her strident relative.

  “And what is that, Lady Felicia?” Lord Beaumont, in the armchair directly opposite her, seemed to sit up a little straighter and lean forward as if keen to hear what she had to say.

  Felicia wondered if the fate of poor Daisy Marlow had played on his mind too. She wondered if he thought of the poor soul every day, wondering about the life of the woman who was no more.

  “Forgive me, but it is blood,” Felicia said, ignoring Lady Barton’s long-drawn-out sigh. “Or rather the lack of it.”

  “I do not understand.” Lord Beaumont said, giving no hint of Lady Barton’s gentle exasperation.

  “I saw it on the day and yet somehow it did not register. Perhaps it was the shock, for I am certain that if I had been thinking clearly, I would have voiced my concerns at the time.” Felicia paused and tried to find a delicate way of continuing. “Forgive me for bringing it up, but there was not enough blood on the Oriental rug in the morning room.”

  “Oh, Felicia!” Lady Barton said; clearly, Felicia had not been delicate enough for her tastes.

  “I know, Aunt Agatha, and I really am sorry. There is no other way I can say it, but if that poor woman had been beaten to death in the morning room, there would have been a good deal more blood, I’m sure of it.”

  “What makes you so sure, my dear? Are you a doctor suddenly?”

  “Aunt Agatha, one does not need to be a doctor to be logical about a t
hing. Daisy Marlow cannot have been attacked in the morning room. There was a little blood on the rug, but only a little. If somebody had beaten her there, surely there would have been traces on the furniture or even the walls. A person could not rain down such blows and not send blood flying elsewhere.”

  “Felicia, really, must you persist?”

  “I’m afraid I must.” She said firmly, pleased that her aunt smiled at her in admiration of her stance. “There was not enough blood on the rug and there was no blood anywhere else. It bothered me on the day, and it bothers me now.”

  “Forgive me, Lady Barton, but your niece makes a good deal of sense. It might not be a joy to contemplate, but I do think that somebody must contemplate it, do you not? I cannot help but feel that there was nobody to speak for that poor young woman.” Lord Beaumont said and Felicia smiled at him sadly and gratefully.

  She liked him more and more.

  “Well, if you are not offended by it all, Lord Beaumont, then I shall not be.” Lady Barton said with a smile. “Well, do continue, Felicia.”

  “It bothers me because I cannot help but think that it must have happened in the summerhouse.”

  “Why the summerhouse?” Lady Barton said and Felicia remembered that she had not told her aunt how she had spied upon the two amorous lovers.

  “Because I had seen a man and a woman out in the summerhouse as I looked out of my window that night.”

  “Why did you say nothing of its to The Watch when they arrived?” Lady Barton’s sensibilities had died down and were now replaced by pure inquisitiveness.

  “Well, I was just able to make them out in the darkness and could see they were kissing.” Felicia lowered her voice to a whisper as her aunt’s eyes opened wide. “You need not look like that, Aunt Agatha, I did not mean to spy upon them. The very moment that I saw them kiss, I returned to my bed and gave them their privacy.”

  “What a shame, otherwise you might have had a better idea who they were.” Lady Barton said in a hushed tone and with a mischievous look. “If nothing else, I might have had a little gossip tucked into the sleeve of my gown ready for my next afternoon tea with Lady Greystone.”

  “Aunt Agatha, really!” Felicia said and Lord Beaumont laughed. “And in any case, the kiss is hardly the point.”

  “Then what is?” Lady Barton looked confused, but Lord Beaumont seemed already to know what she was about to say.

  “You think that the lady in question might have been Daisy Marlow, do you not?” He said and nodded.

  “I fear it, Lord Beaumont.”

  Felicia looked across the room at all of Lady Greaves’ guests, each and every one of them enjoying a very fine time. There was a good deal of laughter and conversation and she wished above all things that she could contribute to that in some way. The problem was, now that she had begun to speak the thing aloud, the fear which she had dismissed as unlikely seemed suddenly so very possible.

  “You fear it? But why?” He said as he leaned yet further forward in his seat.

  “Because I cannot help but think that by turning away from the window, I left Daisy out there alone.”

  “Oh, my dear child.” Lady Barton said, suddenly catching up.

  “You could not have known, Lady Felicia.”

  “But if I had waited just a moment longer instead of giving in to silly manners and sensibilities, I might have seen the first blow. If I had, I could have raised the alarm, and Daisy might have been saved.” Felicia felt suddenly tearful but mastered it well.

  “Lady Felicia, I would beg you not to think such a thing. For one thing, even if what you say is correct, the chances of you having saved that poor woman by the time you could raise the alarm are very slim. There is something else to consider too, if you will. It is still quite likely that what you saw in the summerhouse and what happened to Daisy are completely unrelated. I agree with you about the blood in the morning room, but Daisy Marlow might have been murdered anywhere on the grounds before being left there. What you saw in the summerhouse might truly have been nothing more than an amorous rendezvous.”

  “I really do hope so, but I should like to know for certain.” Felicia said miserably.

  “But how on earth can you know for certain without going into the summerhouse and having a good look around yourself?” Lady Barton said and then her eyes widened. “Oh no, surely you do not mean to find a way into that summerhouse, Felicia!”

  “We are to go to the wedding, are we not? We are to be guests at Scorton Hall for two nights. I think it would be a perfect opportunity, do you not, Lord Beaumont?”

  “Perhaps a little risky, Lady Felicia. After all, how would we explain our presence if we were found in the summerhouse?” He smiled but his narrowed gaze strongly suggested to Felicia that he was actually thinking about it.

  Furthermore, she liked the fact that he had said we and not you. Whatever it was she planned to get involved in, it was clear that Lord Beaumont planned to get involved in it with her. At the very least, he was not set to leave her to get into mischief all by herself.

  “There is a little risk, but perhaps with a wedding celebration and so many guests, an opportunity might present itself. I should not like to rule it out altogether, Lord Beaumont.”

  “No, neither would I. If I am honest, Lady Felicia, I would be pleased to go into the summerhouse to discover nothing at all. Perhaps then your mind could rest easy.”

  “It is very kind of you to hear me out, Sir.”

  “I am beginning to think that I, too, am not yet ready to let go of this particular mystery. I cannot stop wondering about Daisy Marlow and what her life might have been before she arrived at Scorton Hall. It struck me that there were scant details about her on the day, although I daresay that could have been largely due to the shock of all present. Still, there is no harm in asking a few questions whilst we are there, is there? Perhaps we might find out a little more about the maid that nobody truly seems to know at all.”

  “What a good thing I am to be at this wedding.” Lady Barton declared sternly. “You seem to be encouraging one another and I fear that all my resolve will be needed to keep the two of you out of trouble.” Despite the admonishment, Felicia could see that her aunt was more than pleased by the whole thing.

  No doubt she saw a way to throw the two of them together in hopes that Felicia would be able to rid her heart of Charles Wilby sooner rather than later.

  “So, it is decided?” Felicia said, looking from Lord Beaumont to her aunt and back again. “If we have the opportunity, we will look in the summerhouse?”

  “Yes, we will look in the summerhouse.” He said and smiled at her, holding her gaze for a moment. “Now, I wonder if I catch the eye of one of the maids, we might get a tray of tea.”

  “Oh yes, please do.” Lady Barton said as if the whole conversation had exhausted her entirely.

  Chapter Eleven

  On the morning of the wedding, Felicia hoped that she would be able to concentrate on the ceremony and the celebration whilst her mind was so preoccupied with thoughts of somehow making her way to the summerhouse to look for clues.

  The ceremony was taking place down in the village of Hayfield, the closest village to Scorton Hall. The church was not a minute’s walk from the Hollybush Inn where the bride-to-be had been staying with her companion.

  As Felicia and Lady Barton walked into the church, Felicia was surprised to find her attention drawn away from thoughts of the summerhouse and the rest of the day. To every pew was tied a small and beautiful bunch of blue cornflowers, each bunch held together with white ribbon. It was a lovely sight, so very romantic, and it caught Felicia’s imagination for a moment.

  She had always wanted something very similar herself for the wedding that she had foolishly assumed would take place in her own life. Although Charles had never actually proposed, he always spoke in a way which suggested that it was a foregone conclusion, and it had been one that she had never doubted for a moment. At least not until the awful day sh
e had discovered his change of heart.

  “Are you all right, my dear?” Lady Barton said, squeezing her arm as the two of them walked side-by-side into the church.

  “Oh yes, perfectly all right. I was just looking at the cornflowers, Aunt Agatha. How beautiful they are.” Felicia said, shaking loose thoughts of Charles and bringing herself back into the present moment.

  “I must admit, I do favor this much simpler approach to things. Too many flowers detract from the bride, that’s my opinion.”

  “I wonder what Miss Mulholland is like, Aunt Agatha,” Felicia said in a whisper as the two of them took their place on one of the pews near the front of the church. “The Duke is a handsome man, so I daresay she’s really rather pretty.”

  “It does not matter how pretty she is, my dear, she will not be the prettiest young lady in this church.” Lady Barton smiled at her warmly. “You really do look very lovely.”

  “Thank you. You look very lovely too, truly. We must make a very fine pair.”

  “Indeed, we must.” Lady Barton chuckled under her breath at their self-indulgence.

  Felicia had chosen to wear one of her favorite gowns to the church. It was ivory cotton with a very delicate pattern of pale green and tiny flowers all over it. It had a green satin band beneath the empire line and fit her very well indeed.

  It was quite different from the outfit she had packed to wear that night at the ball to be held at Scorton and it was not only comfortable but very suitable for a wedding.

  She had not curled her hair for the daytime, she had simply brushed her thick chestnut waves before Meg had created a full, glossy pleat at the back of her head, fastening it securely with pins. She would save any further effort for later on when the afternoon of celebration had ceased, giving them all time to dress for the ball that night.

  “Oh, look, there is Lord Beaumont.” Lady Barton nudged Felicia in a way which she clearly thought was gentle but almost elicited a squeal of surprise from her victim.

  Felicia looked at her aunt with some dismay but could see that the woman who had inadvertently elbowed her in the ribs had her attention drawn elsewhere altogether. She was making a fine study of Lord Beaumont, who was at that moment settling himself down on the aisle seat of the front pew.