The Secrets of Scorton Hall: An Historical Regency Romance Mystery

by Kate Carteret

  I was in the drawing room of Mrs. Winstanley just yesterday when I overheard a little conversation between Lady Crowther and Mrs. Dale. I know it is not……”

  “Could you not just skip through to the news itself, my dear, and leave out any mention of Lady Crowther, Mrs. Winstanley, and dear Mrs. Dale, whoever she is?”

  “I thought you were not going to interrupt, Aunt Agatha. I am just a few lines in and already you have interrupted me twice.”

  “With good reason, Felicia.” Lady Barton said and picked up a small silver spoon which she proceeded to hit her boiled egg. She cleared away the shell in no time and dipped a slim finger of toasted bread into the shining yellow yolk. “I am simply concerned for your vocal cords. I love your mother dearly, but my nephew’s wife has a propensity for extraneous detail and if you read it all out, I am in fear of it rendering you mute for the rest of the week.”

  “You have an answer to everything, do you not?”

  “More or less.” Lady Barton dipped the remainder of the toasted finger of bread into her egg. “Carry on.”

  “Right, well.” Felicia returned to the letter. “Hurrying past the part where my mother finds a way to justify her eavesdropping, we get to the point of the thing.” She cleared her throat.

  “When I heard Lady Crowther tell Mrs. Dale that Lord Charles Wilby was no longer set to marry Miss Louisa Bellfield, I could hardly concentrate upon my cards.”

  “Cards? Oh, Bridge?”

  “Aunt Agatha!” Felicia said sharply and her aunt smiled ruefully and shrugged.

  “It would appear that her father, Hector Bellfield, has found a better prospect for his daughter. You know how very vulgar new-money can be, my dear. Anyway, he has managed to secure her a proposal from the Earl of Wincanton. It would appear that his estate is in want of funds and Mr. Bellfield, having all the funds in Buckinghamshire apparently, was quick to offer his services. In return for a title for his daughter, of course.”

  “Poor old Lord Wilby!” Lady Barton said and began to hoot with laughter. “I bet that has rather put a crimp in his plans.” As she began to cough, she set her toasted bread back down on the plate next to her egg and dug in the sleeve of her gown for a handkerchief.

  The whole performance would have been greatly amusing to Felicia if did she not feel a sense of confusion. This was the very thing she had hoped to hear for so long, that Charles had decided not to marry after all. But he had not decided, had he? He had been thrown over, just as she had.

  “Are you all right, Felicia?” Lady Barton said the moment her fit of coughing and ceased.

  “Yes, I think so. Would you like me to continue or do you have another truly sensational bout of coughing or laughing up your sleeve?”

  “There is no need to be waspish, child.” Lady Barton said with a bright smile. “Although I am glad that you are, for it tells me that you are not wilting.”

  “No, I am not wilting.” Felicia cleared her throat.

  “I must admit, I was a little excited on your part when I heard the news and further excited still later on that same day when dear Charles himself paid a visit to Davenport.

  It appears he had no idea that you were away from Buckinghamshire, Felicia, and had come to seek an audience with you. If I’m honest, your father was not greatly pleased with the sight of him and it took some little time for me to convince him to at least be civil. However, I am bound to say that the lion’s share of the conversation was upon my shoulders throughout the little exchange, and a good thing too, for I do believe that your father was ready to cast him out of Davenport Hall the moment he set foot in it.”

  “That is my nephew! What a good fellow! What a good fellow indeed!”

  “However, your father is the Earl of Davenport and he very quickly regained himself, I am pleased to report.

  I am also pleased to report that dear Charles openly admitted that he has missed you a great deal over these last weeks and spoke very openly of the awful mistake he had made in turning his attention upon Miss Bellfield.

  All in all, I do believe that Charles is ready to renew his addresses to you, my dear. I am certain, upon hearing this wonderful news, that you will be keen to return to Davenport Hall at the earliest opportunity. Your father, however, has declared that you may stay away from home as long as you wish and return only at your own determination. I daresay it will take a little time for your father to truly forgive Charles, but have no fear, I shall work on him in the meantime.”

  “Your dear mother assumes too much, I fear.” Lady Barton said gently. “She assumes that you will be pleased by the news and ready to run back into the arms of your former love.”

  “And I suppose you assume I will not.”

  “I assume nothing, I simply wait to hear the contents of your heart, my beloved niece.”

  “I am not entirely sure I know how I feel, but there is something I know for certain.”

  “And what is that?”

  “That Lord Charles Wilby did not discover how much he missed me until after he had been rejected by Miss Bellfield and her father.”

  “You are a very clever woman, Felicia, and I knew I would not have to point that out to you. But you must not be angry with your mother for hoping to see you settled. Young men with minor titles such as Charles Wilby are always looking to expand and always keep their eye on the main chance. I hate to say it, but it probably was not personal.”

  “Perhaps not, but it felt very personal, Aunt Agatha. And the truth is, had the boot been upon the other foot, no amount of money on this earth could have tempted me away from Charles. Whatever I had been offered, I could not have accepted it. I do not know if that is the difference between Charles Wilby and myself, or if it is the difference between men and women at large.”

  “I already know the answer to that, Felicia, but I will not give it.”

  “That is not like you, Aunt Agatha.” Felicia chuckled.

  “I know, but on this occasion, I’m going to break with tradition.”

  “But why?”

  “Because I think you need to find the answer to that question yourself in order to be able to believe it fully.”

  “And that is all you have to say upon the subject?”

  “Yes, and I do not blame you for looking surprised.” Lady Barton dug the very last bit of yoke from the egg with the same spoon she had used to beat it.

  “I think I will just send her a brief response to say that I have not yet decided when I shall return.” Felicia said airily.

  “Good, that will give you time to think.” Lady Barton watched her niece fold the letter and stow it in the pocket of her gown. “In any case, we have other things to turn our attention to. You will need to do a good deal of thinking before the home theatrical at Beaumont Hall in a few days. You do not want to have nothing at all to say when you and Lord Beaumont sit down and decide what move to make next.”

  “Very true, Aunt Agatha. Very true.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Come the morning of the play at Beaumont Hall, Felicia had more or less put thoughts of Charles Wilby to one side. It had been much easier to do than it had been previously, and she felt rather proud of the progress she had made personally in the weeks she had spent at the Dower House.

  As promised, Felicia and Lady Barton had arrived mid-morning at Beaumont Hall, amid a great flurry of activity from the servants and one or two tradesmen.

  “I have some carpenters putting the finishing touches on a makeshift stage in the ballroom.” Lord Beaumont said with a certain amount of pride. “Would you care to have look?” He said within minutes of his guests arriving. “Whilst we wait for tea, of course.”

  “Oh yes please.” Lady Barton was already leading the way, knowing Beaumont Hall well enough to know exactly where the ballroom was.

  Felicia gave Lord Beaumont an apologetic look and he smiled in amusement. They followed along, side-by-side, in the wake of Lady Barton, each having to walk surprisingly fast to keep up with the eld
erly woman.

  “What a good job,” Felicia said enthusiastically the moment they walked into the ballroom. “Really, it is a very fine stage, Lord Beaumont. It is one of the largest I have seen for a home theatrical.”

  The wooden stage was well constructed from strong timbers and, as they looked on, two tradesmen were hanging a rail for the heavy velvet curtains.

  “Beautiful velvet.” Lady Barton said, hastening to the table where the curtains lay and running her hand over the material. “Very good quality. Surely you did not have them made especially for the event?”

  “No, Lady Barton.” He laughed. “I am not an ostentatious man, despite the size of the stage. No, they used to hang in the morning room, but they were too heavy. They drowned out the light and, as you know, I am rather a proponent of daylight in a space.”

  “It is all perfect, Lord Beaumont.”

  “I think Clarence and Meredith will enjoy it greatly.” He said and seemed pleased with his effort and determination that his dearest friend should have a wonderful surprise.

  Felicia had never seen such thoughtfulness in a man before, or at least not to that degree. Once again, she realized just how close the two friends must be.

  “Where are the actors?” Lady Barton said, looking all about her. “I do hope they are going to arrive on time.”

  “They are already here, Lady Barton, but they are practicing outside at the back of the hall.”

  “It is a little cold for that, is it not?” Felicia said and involuntarily shivered.

  “I think they lay on so many open-air pieces of theatre that they are immune to it. And the stage manager, as he calls himself, got into something of a state because of the noise that the tradesmen were making.”

  “These theatrical types can be very draining, I believe.” Lady Barton chuckled. “But I do like to see a man in a state, it amuses me greatly.”

  “I hope you never wish to see me in a state, Lady Barton, for I would be forced to disappoint you.”

  “No, you are far too sturdy for such a thing, Lord Beaumont. Now, did you say something about tea?”

  Minutes later, they were settled in the drawing room drinking tea and eating thin but tasty slices of lemon cake.

  “Now that we are entirely alone, perhaps we should have some discussion about our other activities.” Lord Beaumont began.

  “I must admit that I have struggled a little to find a way forward, Lord Beaumont, except to say that I have had one or two ideas about the silver locket.” Felicia said, hoping that she would not appear foolish.

  “Oh yes?” He said, looking at her with interest.

  “I know it is a lot of work, but I thought we might make a few inquiries with silversmiths in the area. Or perhaps in Hertfordshire. It is rather a broad field, I know, but perhaps one of the silversmiths might recognize the engraving work of another.”

  “That is an excellent idea, Lady Felicia. It is a most unusual design, surely somebody would recognize it.”

  “Good heavens, where on earth would you start?” Lady Barton interjected. “It seems like such an awful task.”

  “I know it does, Aunt Agatha, but I thought if we went to five or six of the more reputable silversmiths in Hertfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and even Oxfordshire, we might find it to our advantage.

  “You might well do.” Lady Barton seemed a little dubious before brightening. “Still, it will keep us all occupied, will it not? A few fine days out in the carriage.”

  “Quite.” Felicia said and gave her aunt a withering look.

  Trust Lady Barton to find a match-making opportunity in the whole thing. Still, Felicia was not entirely sure that she objected to such an idea as much as she once had.

  “And I am afraid it is all we have, ladies, for I have not been able to come up with a single thing. In truth, I think I might have to approach the housekeeper after all.”

  “But not Chester?” Felicia asked.

  “No, I do not trust my friend’s butler to keep such a thing to himself. I do not entirely trust the housekeeper, but she likes me a little better than Chester does, and I might be able to wheedle a little confidence out of her.”

  “Then it is settled, we have a direction and some little tasks to perform if something more obvious does not present itself.” Lady Barton said, reminding them both that she intended to remain a part of things.

  Following a very fine afternoon and a little rest in a chamber that Lord Beaumont had provided for Felicia and her aunt, the first of the guests began to arrive. It was early evening, but it was customary for such things to begin a little earlier, for there was much to take in.

  The ballroom had been transformed from the work in progress that Felicia had seen earlier. The sumptuous red velvet curtains were now hung over the completed stage and the servants had set out row upon row of chairs.

  Felicia had not realized quite how many people would be in attendance, but the chairs gave her a fair idea that many of the great and good of Oxfordshire would be there. Of course, any event arranged by an Earl for the benefit of a Duke was bound to receive an almost completely positive response in terms of invitations. People simply could not resist the lure of title and wealth.

  “I am a little tired, Felicia, would you forgive me if I simply sat for a while?” Lady Barton said, settling herself down in a seat at the very front of the rows of chairs.

  “Are you really tired, Aunt Agatha, or are you simply determined to get yourself the best possible view of the stage?”

  “Both.” Lady Barton smiled broadly. “Go, look around, entertain yourself.” She said, giving her niece permission to roam with a wave of her hand.

  “I will just have a little look from the ballroom doors to see who is coming in.” Felicia said, her inquisitiveness getting the better of her.

  She hastened to the far end of the ballroom and hovered by the doors, peering out into the entrance hall to watch the first of the guests filter in.

  No sooner had she arrived than she winced in recognition. Felicia heard the barking tones of Colonel Merritt Wentworth before she saw him and almost retreated into the ballroom to avoid him entirely. However, he immediately fixed upon Lord and Lady Harker as they made their way in, hot on his heels. Nonetheless, she backed away from the door a little in the end and was pleased when they did not see her at all.

  Returning to her vantage point, she peered out again. Lord Beaumont looked so handsome in cream breeches, black boots, and a black tailcoat and waistcoat. His hair, which had been cut a little in aid of the Duke’s wedding, was already beginning to grow back and reclaim its pleasantly unruly ground. Felicia liked the way it fell across his forehead so much.

  “Ah, the guest of honor.” She heard Lord Beaumont say loudly. “I think you will be pleased, Clarence.”

  “I’m pleased already, my dear friend.” The Duke clapped a hand on Lord Beaumont’s shoulder.

  “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Your Grace.” Lord Beaumont turned his attention upon the stunning vision that was the Duchess of Scorton.

  She smiled benignly, inclining her head as she did so.

  “I am very pleased to be here this evening, Lord Beaumont. I understand you have a surprise for my husband.” Felicia wondered if she was perhaps hearing things that were not there, but she thought that the Duchess had laid heavy emphasis on my husband.

  She was certain that she was simply adding meaning where there was none, but she had not yet decided to warm to the rather aloof young woman.

  “You will both be pleased to know that I have laid on a home theatrical in your honor. There is even a stage in the ballroom.” Lord Beaumont said with pleasure and Felicia found herself smiling.

  “How wonderful.” The Duchess said without any hint of either surprise or pleasure.

  “Good show, Jonathan.” The Duke said and was every bit as excited as his wife was not.

  What a curious pair they made.

  “Ah, Miss Morehead.” Lord Beaumont said and struggled to
hide the surprise in his voice.

  Felicia, her eyes widening, leaned out a little further to see that the Duchess had brought her paid companion with her. “Welcome to Beaumont Hall and I hope you thoroughly enjoy the play.” He quickly recovered himself.

  What a curious thing; were they really so very attached to one another? Felicia could certainly understand the Duchess bringing her companion with her had her husband been otherwise engaged, but to be on the arm of her husband and have her companion trailing behind seemed most peculiar.

  As the little party of three made ready to sweep their way into the ballroom, once again, Felicia made herself scarce. She did not want to find herself in conversation with the Duchess nor suffer her cool, blue-eyed stare as she made some comment or other about the fact that Felicia was in attendance with her aunt once again.

  As more and more guests arrived, Felicia felt less conspicuous standing by the door for she no longer felt as if she stood out. She was content to simply watch Lord Beaumont greet everybody warmly and with a few words. He was a very capable man, one whose duties and responsibilities seemed to come as second nature to him.

  After a while, the ever-dwindling stream of arriving guests had dried up and she realized that Lord Beaumont was looking right at her. He smiled and tilted his head in a way which beckoned her over.

  “I trust Lady Barton has a good seat.” He said and laughed.

  “At the very front of things, Lord Beaumont. Although I am pleased to say that she has kept a space at her side for me.” Felicia smiled ruefully.

  “Good.” He said and was about to speak again when his butler, Mr. Dalton, came dashing in through the open front door of the hall.

  The butler was no longer smiling but looked quite distraught. He was breathing heavily, as if he had run some little distance, and Felicia had a sense of impending doom.

  “Dalton? My dear fellow, are you all right?” Lord Beaumont said, laying a hand on his butler’s shoulder to steady him. “What has happened?”