Edward wasn’t surprised that Heath would say such a thing. “You may not have had a real affection for the man, but he was still your father,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk. “I’m still finding it difficult to believe he’s gone.” Ebenezer had been a complex and difficult man, but obviously Edward would miss his friend more than Heath would miss his father. “Especially as the circumstances of his death are questionable,” he added thoughtfully.
Heath was startled by the remark. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Edward dropped his chin and looked over the rim of his spectacles, scowling at Heath. “Didn’t you know your father was found dead in bed?”
Heath relaxed. “Oh, that, yes, Winston mentioned it. It’s not the worst place to die, is it?”
Edward was becoming mildly offended by Heath’s continued irreverence. “Did Winston also mention that Ebenezer’s new bride was lying beside him?”
Heath’s mouth fell open.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Edward said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “I was a bit surprised myself, as I had no idea of Ebenezer’s plans to take a wife. Apparently, he married a young woman on the night he died. Mrs. Hendy seems to think the young woman had something to do with his death, although from what Winston said in his note, he isn’t as certain.”
“What? Who is she?” Heath asked. Two such shocks in one day almost beggared belief.
“Her name is Abigail Scottsdale.”
Heath tried to recall ever hearing the name. He couldn’t. “I’ve never heard of her. Where is she from?”
“You won’t believe this,” Edward said. “But Mr. Holbrook was instructed to pick her up from a dugout in Burra. Apparently, her father had been a miner, but he was killed at the mine several days ago.” Edward watched as confusion washed over Heath’s face. “You knew that the Morphett Engine failed and that three miners were drowned in a shaft?”
“No,” Heath admitted. He had barely seen daylight over the last few days because of the beautiful Florence Berkshire. Her husband was a well-known politician in the city. Heath was only mildly shocked that his father’s bride of a few hours had come from a lower station, however.
“I was at Crystal Brook at a stock auction,” he said as an explanation for his ignorance. “But knowing my father, I would believe it,” he added. “He may have had an arrogant attitude with his workers, but when it came to a comely woman, his head turned every time. If she had a voluptuous figure or a pretty face, he’d do anything to bed her. I’m sure you were also aware that his standards dropped as he grew older, but I suppose that was inevitable. Lately, if the girls were nubile and willing, they didn’t even have to be that pretty.”
Edward couldn’t argue with Heath’s estimation of Ebenezer. Every word was true.
To Heath, these women were just parasites, coming after his inheritance. He’d been vigilant about chasing most of them away over the last few years, but when his father had married his second wife, Meredith Barton, Heath had been just nineteen. She’d been an ambitious twenty-two-year-old minister’s daughter from Saddleworth, but her untimely death, falling from the rooftop of Martindale Hall, saw an end to any threat that Heath would lose his birthright. Since then he’d had spies in Burra and Clare keep an eye on his father’s activities to make sure there were no more Merediths.
“At least this Scottsdale woman didn’t have enough time to get her grubby hands on the old man’s money,” he commented acidly.
Edward Martin did not reply.
After a few moments, Heath noted that the man looked unsettled. “My father’s affairs are in order, aren’t they, Mr. Martin?”
“His will hasn’t been changed for some years. In fact, I was just looking it over.”
“Good, because I will be needed to run the mine. That position can’t be left unattended for long, especially if there’s been an accident that has cost lives. I will be needed to restore morale.”
“I’m afraid things aren’t quite as simple as that,” the solicitor said, squirming and flipping through the will again.
“What do you mean?” Heath was becoming concerned.
“As I said, your father’s will has remained unchanged since he was married to the late Mrs. Mason.”
“Yes,” Heath said. “If I remember correctly, in the event of her demise, everything went to me.” He’d been furious that his father had made Meredith Barton his primary beneficiary, but that had been her influence. Luckily, her unfortunate accident saw everything put right.
“That’s correct. The will states that Ebenezer’s estate goes to his wife, and only upon her death does everything revert to you.”
“That’s how I understood things,” Heath said. “Meredith died, so I became his sole heir again.”
“But he now has another wife,” Edward said, watching Heath’s reaction closely. “He married this Abigail Scottsdale on the night he died. The servants were witnesses, so I am assured everything was legal.”
Heath went white, and his eyes widened. “But the wife mentioned in the will was Meredith and if that wasn’t changed.”
“The will states that Ebenezer’s legal spouse at the time of his death is to inherit his estate. It does not specifically state her name.” Edward remembered that Ebenezer had explicitly asked for that wording in the event he got rid of Miss Barton and replaced her with a younger woman. Edward hadn’t been happy about it at the time, but he had carried out his friend’s instructions. Miss Barton had not noticed the possible duplicity of the wording, so she had therefore not felt threatened. It was common knowledge amongst those closest to her that she had no intention of ever being replaced. Rather, she saw her future as rosy, especially as she believed she would one day be a wealthy widow.
Heath leapt to his feet. “Are you telling me that this new wife is the sole heir to my father’s fortune?”
“I’m afraid so,” Edward said, upset for Heath. He hadn’t been particularly fond of the way Heath had treated Ebenezer, but in all fairness, he had to admit that Ebenezer hadn’t been a very good father.
“That can’t be right, Mr. Martin. Surely something can be done.”
“I’ve been studying the will, and I can’t see what could be done. You can contest it in court, of course, but I don’t like your chances of winning.”
“This woman, whoever she is, can’t know about this,” Heath said, livid.
“She has to know, Heath. It can’t be kept from her.”
“She wasn’t at the Hall, well, at least I don’t think so. Winston would have said something.” When he thought about it, Heath realised he hadn’t given the butler time to tell him about her.
“I believe she left the Hall soon after it was discovered that Ebenezer was dead, before she could be detained. That leads me to believe she may have played a part in your father’s death, even if it were unintentional.” Edward flushed just thinking about the implication. “I think an autopsy should be performed.”
“After hearing this, I agree,” Heath said angrily. “I’m going back to the Hall to see what I can find out. Do me a favour, Mr. Martin, and do not speak to this girl until I’ve had time to ask questions.”
“Legally, we have twenty-eight days before she has to be notified of her inheritance, Heath, if we can find her. In the meantime, you could take over the running of the mine. If Abigail Scottsdale is responsible for your father’s death, and it’s deemed a murder, then you can apply through the courts to become the heir to your father’s estate.”
Heath felt a small measure of relief. He had a month to sort this mess out, and he was determined to do it.
“We can’t discount the possibility that your father died of natural causes, however,” Edward added.
“Natural? My father was only fifty-three years old,” Heath stated.
“He did have a very young bride and a weak hear
t.” For a moment Edward’s imagination was vivid, and he squirmed. “That could be a lethal combination.”
“Dr. Mead apparently believes his heart gave out,” Heath said. “I suppose it’s a natural conclusion, but could his new bride have been that lucky? I don’t think so. To marry him and have him die that night sounds like a convenient coincidence to me. I’m sure the police will see how suspicious that is.”
“I doubt the young woman knew about the will, especially the wording,” Edward said.
“We know nothing about her; she might be quite cunning,” Heath replied thoughtfully. He had every intention of finding this woman, getting to know her, and drawing his own conclusions. One way or another, he would see to it that she did not get her hands on what was rightfully his.
“Yes, indeed, but stranger things have happened,” the solicitor said, thinking of another convenient coincidence. “No one could explain how a fit and healthy woman like the late Mrs. Mason, just happened to fall from the roof of the Hall, but it happened.”
“I’ve always believed that she jumped,” Heath said callously.
“Why do you say that?”
“I never told anyone this, Mr. Martin, but she was quite infatuated with me. She was obsessive, if truth be told, and she became quite unstable when I did not respond to her advances.”
Edward didn’t remember her that way at all. He’d always thought her to be a confident woman, very shrewd, in fact. “I was under the impression that you two hated each other. Everyone thought that was the case.”
“I disliked her, but as I said, she was infatuated with me. When I wouldn’t betray my father and become intimate with her, she became unbalanced. That is why I think she jumped from the roof of the Hall.”
Edward thought about the heated arguments he’d witnessed between Heath and the woman. He couldn’t believe she’d had any feelings for him other than contempt. He also couldn’t believe that Heath would feel any loyalty towards his father, especially where a young woman was concerned. But that was the past, and it didn’t have any bearing on the situation at hand.
***
When Heath got back to Martindale Hall, he could see that Winston was upset.
“I’ve just been to see Edward Martin, Winston, so I know about this Scottsdale woman marrying my father.”
Winston lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, sir.”
“I didn’t give you a chance,” Heath said, interrupting. “But please, tell me all you know.” Heath had decided on the journey back to the Hall that he needed the staff on his side if it came to pass that he had to contest his father’s will in court, especially if he had to mount a case against Abigail Scottsdale. That meant he had to treat them respectfully. Of course, if she were found guilty of killing his father, that was a different situation. He’d be free to do and say as he wished because he’d be one of the wealthiest men in South Australia.
Winston looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Your father didn’t confide in me very much about the women he was interested in, sir, but I know he sent Mr. Holbrook to fetch this girl from Burra. I wasn’t aware that he planned to marry her until the minister arrived. Not long after that, Miss Scottsdale and the master asked Mrs. Hendy and myself to witness the nuptials.”
“And did you witness the marriage?” Heath had to be certain it was legal.
“Yes, sir, we did.” Winston had no intention of sharing his suspicions that his employer had laced the girl’s wine with an opiate. It wasn’t the first time Ebenezer had drugged a young woman so that he could have his way with her, but it was the first time he’d married one while she was in that condition.
When Abbey had arrived at the Hall, she had been especially attractive and alert. He could tell that Miss Scottsdale was spirited, and that she didn’t want to be at the Hall, let alone become intimate with Ebenezer. But when he and Mrs. Hendy had been called in to witness the marriage less than an hour later, the girl had barely been able to sit upright in the chair while the minister conducted the brief service. She’d been almost incoherent, despite having barely touched her wine.
But he’d remain silent about the matter. He’d always given Ebenezer Mason loyal service and would remain faithful to his memory.
Winston had no explanation for how or why his employer had died, but he worried it was going to be discovered that he had overdosed on the potion he’d taken to have his way with the girl. Winston suspected that apart from his lust for the girl, Ebenezer Mason wanted to compromise her innocence so she couldn’t seek an annulment the following morning. She couldn’t claim she was an unwilling party if she couldn’t remember.
“I’m not sure of her motive, but I believe she must have had one,” Heath said angrily.
“I am fairly certain Miss Scottsdale had no idea of your father’s plans for her,” Winston said without thinking. As much as he felt loyal to the deceased, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the girl because she’d been so young and naïve. Ebenezer Mason had obviously only considered her a means to bear him another legal heir.
“Then why did she go through with the marriage?” Heath asked bluntly.
Winston thought about how much he should disclose. “Your father gave her wine, and it may have gone to her head, sir,” he said.
“I doubt there just happened to be a minister on hand, Winston. It must have been planned.”
Winston looked uncomfortable.
“I’m going to speak to Mr. Holbrook and see if he knows where I might find Miss Scottsdale,” Heath said. “Is he aware that my father married her?” He needed to find the young woman so that he could determine whether she knew anything about his father’s will.
“No, sir. Apart from you and Mr. Martin, only myself, Mrs. Hendy, and Louise know.”
“Let’s keep it that way, Winston.”
“As you wish. Mrs. Hendy has your lunch prepared, sir,” Winston said.
“I’ll have it when I get back from the stables,” Heath said.
“Of course, sir,” Winston replied, knowing Mrs. Hendy would be cross that she had to keep it warm.
***
Heath found Alfie Holbrook in the stables, rubbing Horatio down after a long ride.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Alfie said when he approached. “Please accept my deepest sympathies about your father.”
“Thank you. I’m sure the staff will miss him.”
“Yes, sir. Will you be moving into the Hall now, sir?” Alfie wasn’t sure how he felt about the change of guard. Mr. Mason hadn’t been an easy man to work for, and he suspected his son wouldn’t be, either.
“Yes,” Heath said too quickly, but then stopped himself from saying more. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine Abigail Scottsdale becoming mistress of Martindale Hall. He’d sooner die than accept it. He cleared his throat. “I believe you brought a young woman to the house on the night my father died.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“What do you know about her?”
“Not much, sir. Your father gave me a note to take to her in Burra, and I was instructed to wait for her. I brought her here, where she stayed the night.” Alfie cleared his throat uncomfortably, not sure how much Heath knew of his father’s dalliances with much younger women. “The next morning she appeared at the stables, asking to be taken back to Burra. I told her I’d have to see the master first, so I went up to the Hall. It was then I found out the master had passed away. When I got back to the stables, the girl and Horatio were missing.”
“She stole Horatio?” Heath said in disbelief.
“That’s right, sir.”
Heath hadn’t thought he could think less of this girl. “What did you do next?”
“I didn’t think she’d get far on Horatio because only the master and I can ride him, so I took another horse and followed the road to Mintaro. It was there
I found Horatio at the smithy’s stables. The locals told me they’d seen him galloping through town with a young woman astride. A few minutes later he appeared riderless near the stables, so Mickey Boon, the smithy’s assistant, caught him.”
“Did you look for her in case she’d been hurt?”
“Yes, I followed the road to Burra, but there was no sign of her. I even went to the dugout where she’d been living, but she wasn’t there, and no one had seen her.”
“That’s odd,” Heath said. “You’d think she’d go back to her home, such as it was.”
“She might think she’s in some kind of trouble. I believe Mrs. Hendy accused her of killing the master, not knowing that, according to the doctor, his heart had actually failed. She can’t be blamed for heart failure, can she?”
“No, I suppose not,” Heath said. “But that may have to be looked into more closely.” He was puzzled. “Do you think she may have gone to Clare? It’s closer to Mintaro than Burra, and she might have thought you’d be looking for her in Burra. Horse-stealing is a serious offence.”
“That is possible, sir,” Alfie said, embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of it.
“Have my carriage ready in half an hour. Mrs. Hendy has my lunch ready, but after that I think I will go to Clare and have a look around.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heath took a close look at his father’s horse. “Horatio is a fine animal,” he said.
“Yes, he is,” Alfie said proudly. He’d been brushing his coat, and it glistened with health. He was very fond of the horse.
“He should fetch a tidy sum at auction,” Heath added before he walked away.
Alfie’s face fell in disappointment. He had hoped that Mr. Mason’s son, who would inherit a grand estate and a mine, would be generous enough to give the servants something of the late master’s possessions. But it seemed that hadn’t occurred to him. Alfie had secretly hoped for Horatio. He couldn’t afford to purchase such a valuable animal with just his own wages.
***
The town of Clare was made up of several small villages in and around picturesque valleys, eighty miles from Adelaide. Settlers from England, Ireland, and Poland had initially established the villages. One of the first settlers in the area was John Horrocks, in 1839, but it was Edward Burton Gleeson who had established the town itself and named it after his former homeland, County Clare, Ireland. Jesuit priests from nearby Sevenhill had been some of the first to start growing grapes for wine in the Clare region, but from its first days, the town had depended on the local farming community.
Shadows in the Valley Page 11