“Because little things are important,” I said, following his gaze to see Kate hurrying into the room, her mind clearly elsewhere.
“Oh, Hugo,” she began, stopping short when she saw Sir Marcus and me. She smiled a little uncertainly before delivering her instructions to set another place for dinner.
“Max’s friend,” she explained to us. “They were in the war together and when he received the news, he braved the seas to get here.”
She seemed relieved this friend had arrived.
“You’ll meet him at dinner. Forgive me.” Her voice faltered. “It’s been a long day.”
“It’s all right, Katie girl.” Sir Marcus enveloped her in his great bearlike embrace. “All will turn out well. You’ll see.”
“Somehow,” she said, and paused, raising deep, haunted eyes to me. “Somehow…I don’t think it will this time.”
She left Sir Marcus and me, and we used the opportunity to press the issue of alerting us to any little abnormality out of the usual order of things. What Hugo truly thought of his previous master came out in his next words.
“Poor lady. She don’t deserve no bad. No bad after what she went through with him.”
“You’re her best witness,” Sir Marcus incited. “If you want to help her and help Mr. Lissott, you must tell Fernald what you saw. Oh, I know you must have seen or heard something. The lord catching the lady in her lover’s embrace? The fight that followed? Wrestling in the hall perhaps? Then dragging a body out through the squeaky terrace door?”
Hugo looked conflicted. “But I told him everthin’ I seen and heard.”
“But what of all the other times when you witnessed Lady Kate suffering at the hands of her husband?” I implored. “Is there a reason by which she had to defend herself? Is there, Hugo? You must know.”
“Mr. Josh will get off and you’ll make Lady Kate a very happy woman,” Sir Marcus added. “And you’ll earn the gratitude of Lord Roderick.”
Considering the enviable prospect of keeping his job and pleasing his new employer, Hugo stared down at the floor. “I’ll think on it.” He nodded and returned to his kitchen duties.
I went to dress for dinner. Wearily climbing up the stairs, I wished I could take my meal in my room, for the day had proved too eventful for me. I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.
Yawning, I was glad to greet an empty room. When tired, the last thing I wanted to do was to humor Angela, whose strange behavior quite frankly disturbed me. Was she party to a crime? Or worse, was she party to a murder? She seemed pleased for Kate regarding Max’s passing and pleased that Mr. Lissot remained incarcerated in the local prison.
“That stupid girl’s in the bathroom again!”
Storming into the room, Angela kicked off her shoes and threw down her handbag. Commencing to peel off her stockings, she further denounced Bella.
“She’s not all prim and proper, either. Caught her smoking this afternoon, oh yes, I did. Footed the stub when she saw me but it was too late. She’s definitely hiding something,” Angela added, her hands diving into her toiletry bag. “Can’t quite fix it, though. Is it Lord Rod she’s after? The house? Or something else?”
A knock sounded at the door.
Angela smiled in return. “Oh, it’s Kate. She’s come to dress you.”
“Dress me?”
I had no time to compose myself before Kate came in, her arms laden with dresses.
“Yes.” Angela clapped her hands. “We’re going to make you up and parade you before all the gentlemen visitors. No, don’t deny us the pleasure, and it’ll be a good diversion for Kate. Look, she’s picked all these beauties from her own collection.”
There was a significant pause. Should I show gratitude, being the prized cow of Angela and Kate? I ground my teeth. The notion of being paraded about appalled me. And I hated to be anybody’s hobby, even for a short period of time.
And knowing Major Browning, he’d assume I had purposely spent hours adorning myself for his benefit. Coiffuring curls in front of the mirror and pinching my cheeks. Oh! It was too…humiliating. Unfortunately, Angela dismissed the downward turn of my mouth as Kate began to dress me. After examining my hair and skin color, she set about her work, ordering me in and out of gowns too numerous to count.
At last they proudly shepherded me to the bathroom to see the result. I kept my eyes downcast, hoping, praying Bella’s mocking sneer remained in her room. I still found it difficult to believe Mrs. Pencheff, which I planned to keep to myself. Bella Woodford…and her cousin?
Descending the massive staircase, the young bride glowed with nervous pride. She knew, for this one night, she looked beautiful. Tiptoeing in her high-heeled satin shoes, she allowed herself only one backward gaze, waving a shaky hand to the maids lined up to watch her triumph.
She couldn’t wait to surprise her husband…
“Daphne! My word.”
Dismayed to see, not my expectant, proud husband, the slender and tall one, his brooding brow vanishing at my glorious arrival, but a bustling, red-nosed Sir Marcus, I paused, my hand resting on the balustrade.
Beaming, Sir Marcus let his cultured eye study me from head to foot. “Ah, but wait until Browning sees you.”
I stopped short, a sudden fear overcoming me. I didn’t want to face the crowd. I didn’t want to see Major Browning. I didn’t want him examining me.
“You dressed for yourself, not for him, I know,” Sir Marcus said, tapping my wrist. “You’re a sly one, aren’t you? What were you dreamin’ about just now if you don’t mind me asking?”
“A scene for a book,” I answered.
“Hmm. Well, I trust it has a bitter, dark twist then, this story of yours. Too boring otherwise.”
“I can’t go down.” I halted again, flushed of face.
“Why ever not? You look better than I’ve ever seen you before. Look in the mirror, Daphne girl. See for yourself.”
Drawn to the hall mirror, I stared at the picture of a girl I didn’t recognize. Young, slender, curling honey-colored hair swept up and curled on the sides of her face. Swathed in a gown of ivory silk, strips of pearl-encrusted and silver embroidery framing a delicate neckline, she resembled a bride. Skin of peaches and cream, deep-set wondering eyes, innocent lips, and a face too young for the diamond earrings on her lobes or the diamond-pearl necklace at her throat. My fingers drew up, ready to rip the necklace away…
“Come on.” Sir Marcus drew me downstairs. “I’m here to protect you.”
“I am not frightened,” I clarified on the way. “I merely have no wish to be ogled at.”
“I thought all girls like to be ogled at. Isn’t that how they catch husbands?”
We made our grand entrance, all eyes assessing me. Perhaps it was bemusement. The customarily plainly dressed Daphne was exhibiting herself in the magnetic apparel of a skilled femme fatale. Male hushes ensued and Kate, to my eternal detriment, expressed pride in her creation.
Sensing the Major’s proximity, and eager to avoid his mocking eye, I found myself a quiet corner of refuge by one of the paintings.
“Hello,” said a voice. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?”
A nondescript man leaned gracefully against the wall, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He was in his mid-twenties, with brown hair brushed back, clothing neat and uncomplicated, and a demeanor modest and unobtrusive. He was the kind of person one felt very safe with at social gatherings such as this, the undemanding person lagging in the background.
He introduced himself as Peter Davis, Max’s friend from the war. Standing in front of a painting called The Two Soldiers, I expressed my condolences and he began to speak of his friend.
“Yes, the townsfolk kept us alive.” Mr. Davis nodded, his light brown hair gracing his forehead. “Max and I,” he said, pausing to smile, “we were inseparable, you see. We went to college together, then the club, and the war…we’ve been friends forever. Where others would’ve left him for dead, I dragg
ed him through the forest. I couldn’t accept his death, though the severity of his wounds suggested I should have.”
“That was good of you,” I murmured, noting the grief wash over his face.
He shrugged dismissively. “It doesn’t signify now, does it? He’s dead. I wish I’d been here.” His gaze slowly went around the room. “It’s ridiculous to go on normally when something like this happens, yet I suppose we must.” Mr. Davis remained bound to his grief. “I just don’t know how I’ll manage, Miss Daphne, without him. Max and I shared so much together. A lifetime.”
“Then you must busy yourself.” I laid a kind hand on his arm. “Since his marriage, you can’t have been with him all the time. What have you been doing since the war?”
A frank smile passed his lips. “I work at the museum, and I suppose I’ve given the wild days up to become a bit of a hermit. I keep to myself and my piano mostly.”
“Oh, you play the piano? How glorious!”
We launched into a lively discussion, which progressed to the dining room, where Lady Kate shrewdly placed me beside the Major.
“Perfect,” the Major breathed, sliding out my chair for me.
I sat down and pretended not to notice his mocking swagger as he drew his chair closer to mine.
“Dare I assume you’ve dressed for me? After our long parting, I hoped it would be so.”
“Your opinion of yourself is grossly overdeveloped,” I said, smiling through my teeth, reinstating the former distance between our chairs, “and is unwanted here.”
“Unwanted by whom?”
His casual gaze strayed in the direction of our hostess, who, despite her intention to dress deadly dull, had turned out a picture in blue and white. Dispensing with the black widow’s weeds, she also made a concession by adding a tiny feather headpiece to her curled hair. I wished, rather enviously, that I could master her becoming smile, so charming and perfect and contagious.
“Our Lady Trevalyan captivates all, does she not?” The Major’s observation cast itself to my ear. “Yet, I’m sure you haven’t delayed in making conquests of your own.” He tilted his glass toward Lord Roderick. “A man of title and in keeping with the mode. Well done.”
“Mode?” I hissed at the insinuation lurking in his smile.
“Lord David. Or have you forgotten him so soon? Admit it, you were in love with him.”
“I was not in love with him.”
“No,” the Major agreed, “you were infatuated with him.”
I seethed in my chair. No matter what I said, it pleased him to say the opposite. “Why are you here, anyway?”
He affected his most charming smile. “I was invited.”
“I don’t mean here at the house, but the island.”
“I told you. Rough seas have landed me in your quarter. Aren’t you happy to see an old friend? After we’ve shared so much together…”
Devil take him. He had the ability to charm anyone, even Bella. I caught her glancing over once or twice, curious as to our relationship.
“Note Fernald declined the dinner invitation,” the Major attempted a conspiratorial familiarity. “Watch. He’ll make a dramatic after dinner interruption.”
“You are misinformed, Mr. Browning. He’s coming in the morning.”
He grinned. “Shall we make a wager on it?”
His seductive gaze traveled to my lips. I flushed scarlet, wishing I could remain wan-faced like other girls of my acquaintance. But no, whenever embarrassed or enraged, emotion flooded to my cheeks and no amount of powder could conceal it. “You are wrong about Fernald.”
“I beg to differ, dear Daphne. He doesn’t wish to be seen playing Fido with the enemy.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Playing Fido with the enemy? Truly, Mr. Browning, you have the most preposterous expressions. I suspect you found that one belowdeck.”
He grimaced.
“And don’t, pray, act as if we are friends, for friends, sir, we most certainly are not. And I am not ‘dear Daphne’ to you, either. Those dear to you don’t ignore letters.”
Feigning a look of indignant hurt, he sighed. “We’re not going over that again, are we? Acquit me. I’m innocent. It was a misfortune of events, and, for the record, I do consider you a special friend…dare I hope we’re something dearer to each other, much dearer than friends?”
His twinkling eyes went on to make their own silent appraisal of my outfit and hair.
This time he had gone too far. Sliding out of my chair, more to hide the too-quick beat of my heart, I fled to find a moment’s peace and quiet. Finding a darkened corner, I paused to catch my breath. How dare he seek to eye me in that way, almost like a lover! I flushed again, pacing down the hall. I was not one of his playthings existing simply to amuse him—
“Oh, Daphne…”
I spun around to face Arabella.
“I saw you leave the room,” she began, her dark eyes concerned. “Did the Major upset you?”
“No, the Major did not upset me,” I expressed with conviction. “It is merely his chafing, erroneous audacity I cannot abide—”
“Is that so, Miss du Maurier?”
Strolling to us, the Major bowed. “I am grieved my behavior offended you.”
It was only a half apology and he wasn’t grieved about a thing. “It’s not your behavior but your manners, sir, which are in error.”
Arabella glanced from me to him, wondering how we knew each other and the depth of our relationship.
Leaving them both in the hallway, I headed back into the dining room. By now, everyone had abandoned their seats and were ensconced around the blazing fire in the drawing room.
I went to the fire to thaw out my hands. The warm flames soothed my temper and I began to regret my childishness. What mature, reasonably intelligent woman took offense to such a minor grievance as the return or neglect of a letter? I had made a scene, which my mother detested, and I should have waited for a better moment, for my dramatics had not gone unnoticed.
Gently tugging my hand, Lady Kate coerced me to the seat she shared with Angela facing the fire. “Ange told me about the Major,” she whispered with a flick of a smile across her lips. “He was quick to get up after you. I hope he apologized?”
“If one can call it an apology,” I retorted, grimly surveying his reentry and congenial conversation with Arabella.
“Major Browning does have a certain reputation,” Kate murmured.
Angela nodded, confirming her intention to divulge the news later. Kate soon shuffled away to assist her brother-in-law, who was having difficulty conversing with the Major’s lieutenants. One look at Roderick’s heavy brow signaled his distaste at having to play host when he’d prefer the silence and solitude of his tower.
Feeling akin to this feeling myself and tired of Angela’s raucous jokes encouraged by too much champagne, I joined Kate. I asked Rod a series of boring questions about island species and the lieutenants soon lost interest, despite my wondrous gown and shining appearance. They gravitated back to Kate, Angela, and Bella, and I secured Roderick for myself.
“You’re very close to your cousin, are you not, my lord?”
“Close? Close to Bella?” He sounded surprised. “Not particularly.”
“I have a confession to make, my lord.”
“Please don’t call me that,” he began to say as I told him of my jaunt up the tower and meeting the Pencheffs. As I’d hoped, the mention of the name “Pencheff” cast a wary glow across his glacial cheeks.
“You spoke to Mrs. Pencheff?”
“Yes.” I followed his gaze to Arabella. “She said you three cousins used to play down in the caves. That must have been great fun.”
I was being deliberately cruel, since I knew very well what kind of fun that entailed, but I justified that it was all within investigative boundaries.
“I, er—”
He was saved an answer by the very abrupt interruption of Mr. Fernald and a fat bearded fellow bearing the larg
est briefcase I’d ever seen stumbling behind him.
“Forgive my intrusion,” Mr. Fernald began with an attempt at manners. His very presence, of course, conceded the Major his victory. How did he know Fernald would call tonight instead of tomorrow? A lucky guess? Or did he have prior knowledge? I slanted my gaze toward the Major’s face, which showed nothing but the merest surprise. Why was he here?
I watched him greet Fernald, perhaps in order to lessen the anxiety on the deathly white face of Kate, who had gladly accepted his supportive arm.
“Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow, Fernald?” Roderick spoke beside me.
“No, sir, it couldn’t ’ave. It’s a nice peaceful island we ’ave here and I’m keen to ’ave things all wrapped up.”
Too keen, I thought. He was desperate to settle the matter before his superiors arrived from the mainland. Perhaps he fancied himself the highest authority on the island and intended to prove it.
“I’ve brought Mrs. Eastley and her father with me, too. They’re waitin’ outside with your family attorney.”
Roderick showed no emotion at this statement, nor did he attempt to dissuade Fernald from carrying on his business. I imagined Max Trevalyan would have reacted very differently, raging at the man and ordering him to leave. Was it weak of Rod to give in to Fernald’s demands? Or did he do so because one could not stop the inevitable?
Fernald, obviously, had wished to use the element of surprise. The party ended and the guests dispersed as Roderick apologized and promptly guided Fernald and Kate to the study. Bella started to follow but Fernald blocked her efforts.
“No, Miss Woodford. Ye’re not required.”
Bella’s face darkened. She could do nothing but accept the prohibition, but I saw the same question occur to her as it did to me, Sir Marcus, and the Major. Where could we go to listen? The library was next to the study and I laid silent wagers as to who left first and on what false pretense.
Peril at Somner House Page 11