Medium Dead: An Alexandra Gladstone Mystery

by Paula Paul

  “I hope you’re right.” She paused, then spoke again. “Do you by any chance know anything about her carriage driver?”

  “Carriage driver? Of course not. Why do you ask?”

  “There’s probably nothing to it. It’s just that I thought I saw…”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m not certain of what I saw, so it’s probably best that I don’t—”

  “Alexandra! Please, don’t play games.” He saw a flash of anger in her face as he said that.

  “I’m certainly not playing games,” she said. “This is a serious matter.”

  “Of course it is.” He softened his tone. “But this is not a court of law, so I’m not going to object to anything on the grounds of hearsay, and I’m not going to scoff at you for imagining things. I’m merely asking you to tell me what you thought you saw.”

  She took a deep breath. “A knife.”

  “A knife?”

  “Yes. In the hands of the driver.”

  Nicholas nodded. “Perhaps you did see a knife in the hands of the driver. That probably wouldn’t be unusual. I suspect he uses it to maintain the carriage and the fittings. You know, trim off bits of leather, scrape off debris. That sort of thing.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” She smiled weakly and turned away.

  “Is there something more you’re not telling me?”

  “It’s just that…”

  “Go on.”

  She turned to face him again. “There seemed to be something on the knife. At first I thought it was blood, but I can’t be sure.”

  “Perhaps I should inquire—”

  “The knife disappeared, Nicholas. Disappeared before my eyes.”

  Nicholas was too stunned to speak at first. Alexandra Gladstone was the most levelheaded person he’d ever met. What she had just said was entirely out of character. Finally, he managed to utter, “My dear—”

  “I told you I wasn’t certain. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

  “There has to be an explanation for all of this,” Nicholas said. “The queen simply can’t be involved in this in any way, and neither can any of her staff. I am absolutely certain of that. No question…What does that look on your face mean? The way you rolled your eyes?”

  “Did I roll my eyes?”

  “You most certainly did, and you know it.”

  Alexandra laughed. “Then I suppose it was because of the way you said you were absolutely certain. As if you couldn’t possibly be wrong. Forgive me, but since you were raised to the peerage, you’ve begun to sound like all the rest of them.”

  Nicholas felt his face grow warm. Still he felt obliged to defend himself. “My opinion has nothing to do with my station. It is that I simply cannot believe Her Majesty could be involved in murder.”

  “And neither can I. That’s why I said ‘I hope you’re right.’ ”

  “Quite so.”

  “I’ve never seen you so on edge, Nicholas.”

  He was on edge, and rightly so, he thought. “We have to find who murdered that woman. Or at the least make certain this Beaty person doesn’t spread his rumor.”

  “We have to find out? Don’t you trust our Constable Snow to make certain the murderer is found and the truth brought forth?”

  “There’s that look again, as if you think I’m acting like Lord Dunsford and bullying everyone. The truth is I don’t know whether I can trust Constable Snow to make certain of anything or not. It’s just that I have to be sure the queen is in no way implicated in this. For her sake. For the sake of my family’s good name.”

  “Ah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Your family’s good name.”

  “Alexandra, must you make me feel so…so insensitive? Can’t you understand that in my position, I must think of—”

  “Oh, but I do understand, Nicholas. All of us want to protect our family name, even if we aren’t among the peerage.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “Forgive me. Perhaps I am being insensitive after all.”

  “And just for the record, you are Lord Dunsford. Perhaps that’s why you act like him.”

  “Oh, God,” he said, feeling miserable, but he smiled when he saw that she was smiling as well. “You’re as anxious to get to the bottom of this as I am.”

  “I am perfectly content to allow Constable Snow to—” She laughed. “Now it’s you who is rolling his eyes. You don’t believe me?”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “All right,” she said. “Perhaps I am a little curious.”

  He looked at her knowingly over the rim of his glass as he finished his brandy. “You’re coming back to Montmarsh to see Her Ladyship tomorrow. We can start then,” he said as he put his glass down and rose to his feet. She stood as well. “I shall see you tomorrow,” he said. “What time shall I have the carriage here?” he added, just as Zack gave him a warning growl.

  “Don’t bother with the carriage. I’ll stop by as a part of my usual rounds,” she said.

  “But—”

  “Please, Nicholas. I never know how long my visits will take. I shall ride Lucy as I always do and be there as soon as possible.”

  Nicholas considered insisting that he drive her, but he could see the stubborn look on her face, and anyway, that creature was growling again. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll eagerly await your arrival.” He leaned toward her to give her a very proper kiss on the cheek. It was a mistake. Zack took his trousers leg in his sizable jaws, along with a little nick of his skin.

  “Zack!” Alexandra said in a horrified voice.

  Nicholas made his exit as quickly as possible, trying not to limp.

  Chapter 4

  It was a footman who opened the door for Alexandra when she arrived at Montmarsh the next day in the late morning. The butler, whom Nicholas had called Lancaster, was nowhere to be seen.

  “Lady Forsythe was not expecting you until the afternoon,” the footman said when Alexandra identified herself.

  “I finished my rounds early today, since all of my patients seem to be in good health,” she said. She hadn’t missed the disapproval in the footman’s voice.

  The footman assumed a stiff posture and looked at her, saying nothing. Alexandra stared back, determined not to allow him to intimidate her.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Lancaster is indisposed. He is attending Her Ladyship.”

  “It is not Mr. Lancaster I’ve come to see.”

  “Nevertheless, you must wait here in the hall until Mr. Lancaster is free. He will advise you as to when you may see Her Ladyship.”

  “Of course she won’t wait in the hall!” The booming, indignant voice came from behind her, and Alexandra turned to see Nicholas approaching. “She will wait in the library with me. I’ll escort her there myself, and you, Crawford, you will see that we have tea.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Crawford, the footman, bowed and started to hurry away.

  “Oh, and see that we have some of those delightful biscuits Pickwick makes to go with our tea.”

  Once again, the footman bowed and murmured, “Yes, my lord,” before he hurried away.

  “I must apologize,” Nicholas said, turning back to Alexandra. “My mother always brings her own household staff, and I’m afraid they are greatly influenced by her. She means well, but she thinks it’s important that everyone be kept in his or her proper place.”

  “I’m sure she does.”

  “It’s partly my fault, of course. I spend so much of my time in London that I haven’t taken the time to hire a full staff.”

  “You don’t have to make excuses to me,” Alexandra said.

  Nicholas gave her a smile. “No, I suppose not. Thank God. I’m so used to coming up with excuses for MaMa that I’m afraid I’ve developed the habit. She detests the fact that I’ve kept my law practice after…well, after it happened.”

  “After you inherited the title, you mean.”

  “Precisely.” Nicholas look
ed and sounded uncomfortable.

  “It doesn’t matter. You can be a barrister as well as an earl if that’s what you wish.”

  “Don’t let Her Ladyship hear you say that,” Nicholas said, taking her arm to lead her toward the library. “That nervous disorder you diagnosed would come back in full force.”

  “I’m sure you’re not the entire source of your mother’s problems. I trust she’s feeling better today.”

  “Much better. The medicine worked wonders. What did you say it was? Yellow dock? That’s an herb, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but she also needs the oxide of zinc,” Alexandra said. “She should have it applied several times a day.”

  “Yellow dock and oxide of zinc? Not necessary. A simple soda-water bath is all that’s needed.” The pronouncement came from somewhere in the depths of the large and well-appointed library. Alexandra soon saw that the voice belonged to the portly and distinguished-looking gentleman standing near one of the bookshelves. He was balding, but with a white fringe of hair encircling his head just above his ears. The white fringe contrasted startlingly with his full black mustache. Alexandra recognized him immediately because she’d seen a drawing of him in a London medical journal. He was Sir William Jenner, one of the queen’s physicians.

  “A soda bath offers minimal pain relief, to be sure,” Alexandra said, “but the yellow dock works better, and the oxide of zinc goes beyond that to promote healing of the lesions, Dr.—”

  “Fowler,” he said, before she could speak his name. “Dr. Thomas Fowler at your service.” He bowed to her. “I am a friend of Her Ladyship’s. And of Sir Nicholas’s,” he added, giving Nicholas a quick glance.

  “I see,” Alexandra said. So he didn’t want to reveal his true identity. He must have thought his name was so closely associated with the queen that it would give away the fact that Her Majesty was visiting the parish. He needn’t have worried. It wasn’t likely anyone other than she would recognize his name. “Am I to assume, now that you are here, Dr. Fowler, that Her Ladyship has no more need of my services? You will assume responsibility for her care?”

  The doctor’s face took on a startled expression. “Assume responsibility of…Certainly not!” He seemed to collect himself somewhat. “I shan’t be here much longer, I’m afraid. Just came down to administer to…to Her Ladyship’s guest. I shall be leaving soon, and I’m sure I’m leaving Her Ladyship in…capable hands.” He seemed to be having difficulty speaking those last words, and Alexandra didn’t miss the disapproving look clamped on his face. She’d seen it before. Not many people approved of a woman working as a doctor.

  He well might have voiced his disapproval had Crawford not reappeared, waiting in all his stiffness to be recognized.

  “What is it, Crawford?” Nicholas said.

  “Lady Forsythe wishes Dr. Gladstone to come to her room,” the footman said.

  “Yes, by all means, go. You must go to Lady Forsythe,” the man who called himself Dr. Fowler said, obviously grateful for the opportunity not to dig himself deeper into a pit of his own deception.

  Alexandra sputtered with an attempt to suppress her laughter as they left the library.

  “So you know who the old fool is,” Nicholas said, laughing with her.

  “He is by no means Dr. Fowler.”

  “The queen’s physician. Very full of himself. His real name is Johnson or something.”

  “Jenner,” Alexandra said. “Sir William Jenner.”

  “He fancies himself so well known that everyone will associate him with you-know-who,” Nicholas said.

  “Just as well,” Alexandra said, “since Her Majesty as well as Lady Forsythe are keen on not letting any hint of the royal presence here get out.”

  “Dr. Gladstone? Is it you? What were you saying?” The sound of Lady Forsythe’s voice wafted out of her bedchamber.

  “Yes, MaMa,” Nicholas said. “I’ve brought Dr. Gladstone.”

  “Thank God. I’m ever so much better, but I want another treatment. I expect to be well by tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, my lady,” Alexandra said as she entered the room. “But we can’t rush these things. Rest will do you as much good as medicine.” She paused and studied Lady Forsythe’s demeanor. “You seem a bit agitated today, my lady. Perhaps you’re not better after all?”

  “Of course I’m better. I just need a bit more of the medicine. But tell me, what was that I heard you saying? Something about Her Majesty and a royal presence?”

  “Of course not, MaMa,” Nicholas said. “Dr. Gladstone said your presence causes as much excitement in Newton-upon-Sea as would the presence of Her Majesty. Isn’t that what you said, Dr. Gladstone?”

  “Something of the sort,” Alexandra answered.

  “Well, I should think there’s enough excitement in Newton-upon-Sea without me,” Lady Forsythe said with a fidgety wave of her hand. “What is this I hear about some poor woman being murdered in the graveyard?”

  “How did you hear that story?” Nicholas asked.

  “Oh, you know how the servants talk. But why did it have to happen now? Now, of all times, when the…when I have a guest in the house.” Lady Forsythe was growing more and more ruffled.

  “I’m quite sure your guest won’t be affected in any way, MaMa.”

  “She was some sort of medium, they say. The woman who was murdered, I mean.” Lady Forsythe gave her coverlet an agitated push.

  “Medium?” Nicholas said, glancing at Alexandra with raised eyebrows.

  “Talks to spirits. That sort of thing.” Her Ladyship’s eyes had become brighter, making Alexandra fear she was working herself into a fever.

  “Lady Forsythe, please, you must not allow yourself to become so unsettled,” Alexandra said.

  “Oh, I suppose you’re right.” Lady Forsythe sighed dramatically. “Perhaps you’ll have to give me a bit more laudanum. That’s the only thing that seems to calm me. Other than Madam Cudney. Hannah, my maid, has left suddenly. To care for her ailing mother. Or is it her father? Nevertheless, Madam Cudney has been kind enough to help. I can’t keep imposing upon her, of course. Not when she’s here at the pleasure of…well, what I mean is…”

  “Madam Cudney?” Alexandra asked, at the same time giving Nicholas a questioning look.

  “Madam Cudney accompanied MaMa’s guest to Montmarsh,” Nicholas said.

  “Oh, I see. A servant, perhaps,” Alexandra said.

  “Companion,” Lady Forsythe said.

  “She is a comfort to you?” Alexandra asked.

  “Oh, very much so,” Lady Forsythe assured her. “Her voice is so soothing. Not only when she reads to me, but she often tells the most amusing stories. No, I don’t mean amusing exactly, but well…satisfying. Comforting, I should say.”

  “Then perhaps you can persuade your guest to allow Madam Cudney to sit with you for a few moments each day. If it works, I suspect that would be much more beneficial to your body than laudanum,” Alexandra said.

  “I couldn’t possibly ask Her…my guest to spare her.” Lady Forsythe sounded indignant. “You seem to be saying all I need is nothing more than a relaxing conversation. If that’s the case, then why do we pay physicians? I’m quite certain my own Dr. Smythson would never say anything so ridiculous.”

  Alexandra tried to ignore the insult. “May I have a look at the lesions?” she asked, while at the same time signaling Nicholas to leave.

  “Hmmff!” Lady Forsythe said. “I don’t see why you would bother if you think my ailment is nothing more than…Oh, that’s quite soothing.”

  Alexandra applied the zinc ointment while Lady Forsythe closed her eyes and seemed to relax for the first time. Her eyes flew open when a soft tapping sounded on her bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” she called.

  The door opened slightly and a rosy-cheeked plump face appeared around the edge of the door. “Is Her Ladyship indisposed?” The voice and the plump face belonged to a round-shaped woman who opened the
door a little wider.

  “Madam Cudney! Is that you? Come in, please,” Lady Forsythe called.

  “If you’re busy, my lady, I can visit you another time. I only wanted to satisfy myself that you were feeling better,” the woman said in a voice that was surprisingly low-pitched, given her short stature and childlike face. She gave Alexandra an apologetic smile. “Carry on,” she said. “I’ll find another time.”

  “No, please stay, Madam,” Lady Forsythe said. “Dr. Gladstone was just leaving.” She pulled her nightgown down and called to Nicholas, who was waiting just outside the door. “See the doctor out, Nicholas.”

  Nicholas hesitated for a moment as if he was stunned at the abrupt dismissal, but he quickly recovered and stepped into the bedroom to take Alexandra’s arm. “As you wish, my lady,” he said, then acknowledged Madam Cudney with a nod.

  “My lord,” she said with a little bow of her head, “I’m Beatrice Cudney.” She looked at Alexandra. “And you’re the local doctor?” Madam Cudney walked toward them, taking small, mincing steps, making Alexandra think she had been a petite woman before she gained the extra flesh of middle age.

  “I am the local doctor, yes,” Alexandra said, turning her attention to the woman’s pleasant face.

  “Had to examine that poor unfortunate woman who was killed, I hear.”

  Alexandra nodded, surprised that she would bring it up. She thought it best that she say nothing in reply, given Lady Forsythe’s agitation concerning the subject.

  “Terrible thing for a woman to have to do,” Madam Cudney continued. “Examine dead bodies, I mean.”

  Alexandra wondered where this was leading. “One could say it’s one of the less pleasant aspects of my profession. But no more unpleasant for me than for any of my male colleagues.”

  “I must say, I admire you. You’re a courageous woman,” Madam Cudney said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Quite enough of this!” Lady Forsythe said.

  “Of course. How insensitive of me,” Madam Cudney said. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my lady. Please allow me to make amends.”

  While Madam Cudney was busy showering Lady Forsythe with attention, Nicholas took Alexandra’s arm again and led her out of the room. “Well,” he said when they were in the hallway and the bedroom door was closed, “I would say that we were soundly dismissed. I must apologize. My mother can be rather self-absorbed and—”