But he had a duty to make her eat and the power to accomplish it, for as he offered her the plate of ham and the bread and butter, and the radishes, she took her portion, anxious to please him. She ate too, not just pushing the food about the plate, as was so often the case. In fact she consumed a full slice of ham, three radishes and two pieces of bread and butter which was quite astonishing.
“This spa water makes one hungry,” he said, taking some more ham for himself. “Even if it does tastes so foul.” He had grabbed a cup from the Bower Well to quench his thirst after he had walked up the hill.
“I did have two cups,” she said. “Just as you told me.”
“Then you must go and take it again tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes, I would like that,” she said. She looked down at her empty plate, surprised by it. “Have I not done well?”
“Very well.”
“It is only because you are here,” she said. “It is not the water, it is because –”
The door opened and Sukey came in, with her work-basket.
“Yes, what is it?” said Mrs Vernon, looking round at her with some hostility “I did not ring for you, Sukey.”
“Mr Carswell asked me to come in, ma’am,” said Sukey.
“Why?” Mrs Vernon said, staring across the table at him, as he had betrayed her horribly.
“Because I have to go out now and see a patient,” Felix said, throwing down his napkin and getting up “And –”
“Am I not your patient?” she said, also rising from the table.
“Yes, but Mr Martinez is in a terrible condition and needs me.”
“And I don’t?” she said, with a slight sob.
“I shall be back as soon as I can,” he said. “Do some more piano practice. You are getting on so well with it.”
“You do not care one iota, do you?” she said. “Not one!”
And she ran out of the room, pushing past Sukey, the door banging behind her.
“Oh God!” Felix could not help exclaiming. He stared helplessly at Sukey.
“Two steps forward, one back,” she said. “You said that yourself.”
“But this, this is –”
“You woke her up from the dead,” Sukey said. “She’s bound to be grateful.”
He nodded.
“I had better go and see Martinez,” he said.
“Of course. She will be all right. I’ll get her busy with something else. Don’t you worry about it.”
“I will try.”
It was not the first time that her good counsel and infinite common sense had prevailed upon him. Mrs Vernon would never have recovered to such a degree had not Sukey enacted and improved all his ideas for her treatment. She was a most sensible, practical intelligent woman, worth her weight in gold, and as Major Vernon had once pointed out, possibly wasted on domestic life.
“We are lucky we do not live in a world where woman can take our posts, for we should be in for stiff competition with the likes of Mrs Connolly. She could command a regiment with ease or direct a ministry.”
To Felix it was a mystery that she had not been snapped up by a man as soon as was proper after the death of Mr Connolly. It was true she had no tangible assets beyond good looks (for she was handsome, with dark red hair that was liable to escape from time to time from under her cap) and her remarkable intelligence. She seemed content to work for the Major and Mrs Vernon, but Felix wondered how long it would be before some prosperous bachelor in Northminster lured her away with the prospect of her own establishment. When it happened, it would be a great loss.
Chapter Three
One could be aware of the facts about a man and all his possessions, Giles reflected, as he drove to Holbroke in the Marquess of Rothborough’s travelling carriage, but until one saw it for oneself, it was not knowledge.
He had heard much of the great prospects of Holbroke and its park. He had seen engravings and been told the extent of it but he was not prepared for the sheer scale of the place. It was like crossing the border into a different realm. Even before they passed into the park itself, they drove through several extremely orderly villages, where the hand of a great owner was much in evidence. The roads were excellent. The cottages were well-maintained and picturesque, with latticed windows, neat shutters and painted garden fences. A benign tyranny was clearly in operation which sat strangely with some of Lord Rothborough’s more laissez-faire pronouncements.
The entrance to the park itself was marked by a great arch and tunnel, formed from two substantial, symmetrical buildings of golden stone. The gilded gates swung open at the sight of the carriage – of course they would, because it was was Lord Rothborough’s personal travelling carriage. Yet Giles felt he ought to be stopped and asked for some form of identification, as if at a foreign border.
The carriage sped through, drawn by a pair of the most elegant greys he had ever seen, a pair of horses that would make any man jealous. He had recently been thinking of setting up a carriage for Laura and he knew he would never be able to afford such good horses.
Once through the gates, the famous prospect of the house could be seen, vast even in the distance. On this brilliant summer day, it glittered like a fairytale palace. Giles, the younger son of a respectable, but by no means expansively- landed Northumbrian gentleman, could not help feel a long moment of envy at the sight of so many acres formed into parkland alone. It was impossible not to wonder what it might feel to be the master of such a domain. What sort of life would he have made for himself if he had had such good fortune, he wondered. Would he have done good, or would too much ease have destroyed him? That Lord Rothborough was so active and energetic beyond the boundaries of his fabulous realm said a great deal about his character. Giles felt he might never have left the place if it were his. At the same time, Carswell’s own uncomfortable predicament as Rothborough’s natural son came home to him in a way it had not done before.
“Are we not going straight up to the house, sir?” Holt remarked, swivelling around on the tip-up seat to see where they were headed, as the carriage had made a sharp turn to the right.
“Apparently not,” said Giles. They were heading into a woodland drive, and the road had begun to wind.
“And there I was hoping for a pint in the servant’s hall,” said Holt. “I imagine the beer here will be a decent brew.”
“You’ll get port with the House Steward, with any luck,” said Giles.
“Maybe,” said Holt. “But I’d rather have a glass of beer on a day like this, and I dare say you would too, sir.”
“Yes,” said Giles. “But that will have to wait.”
The carriage then left the woods and suddenly they were driving around a large pond, heavy with white lilies, towards a fanciful-looking building on the far side. It had broad hints of the rustic about it, with a portico whose columns were painted tree trunks. On the portico stood Lord Rothborough with a young woman that Giles guessed must be one of the Marquess’s daughters. She was dressed in a riding habit made of sand-coloured linen and he instantly wished he might carry such an outfit back to Laura, as well as the pretty grey mare with a side-saddle on it, that stood tethered nearby. Perhaps a horse would absorb some of her attention? She had always loved to ride, and if they went riding together then perhaps she might find it easier to bear his company again.
“My dear Major Vernon,” said Rothborough coming to the carriage to greet him, “I cannot thank you enough for coming so quickly. I am sorry that my note was rather cryptic. The fact is – well, all will be clear enough soon. Charlotte, may I present Major Vernon?” he said turning to the young woman. “This is my eldest daughter Lady Charlotte Harald, Vernon She has a half-share in this unfortunate business, I am afraid to say.”
“Lady Charlotte,” Giles said, bowing to her. “An honour.”
“I am glad to know you too, sir. My father is always speaking of the great Major Vernon. It is excellent to put a face to the name.”
“So, this business –?” Gil
es said.
“This way,” said Lord Rothborough, going to the double doors of the rustic pavilion. They went into a charming hall, the walls of which were painted with garlands and goddesses and the ceiling with sky and birds. But there was no time to admire the decorations. Lord Rothborough had opened the doors to the adjoining room, which proved to be an elaborately tiled dairy, with marble benches all around the walls and in the centre one great marble table, upon which lay the corpse of a woman, her head decorously covered by a large white handkerchief.
A perfect place for ladies to play at dairymaids and equally perfect to house a dead body, Giles thought as he went over to the body. He lifted the handkerchief. The woman’s face was swollen and her features bore considerable signs of violence. She would have been young and handsome in life. He glanced down at her clothes – plain, respectable working clothes and altogether unremarkable.
“You did not find her here, like this?” he said.
“No, no, she was floating in the grotto pool,” said Lady Charlotte from the doorway. “I thought they should bring her in here. It is closer than the house, and cool. It seemed best to get her out of the heat, once we had taken her from the water.”
“An excellent suggestion, yes?” said Rothborough, with some pride.
“Yes, very,” Giles said, wishing Carswell were there. “I am sorry – where precisely was she? In the lily pond outside?”
“No, another pool. It is a little way from here, but not far,” said Rothborough. “We shall show you, shall we?”
“Yes, that would be helpful. Do you know who she is?”
“I think she is Lady Warde’s maid,” said Lady Charlotte.
“Lady Warde is one of my wife’s guests,” said Lord Rothborough.
“But we are not sure it is her maid,” said Lady Charlotte.
“We will know for certain when we get back to the house,” said Lord Rothborough. “She is not one of our people, though.”
Giles recovered her face with the handkerchief.
“Could you show me the spot where you found her?” said Giles.
“This way,” said Lord Rothborough.
Giles began wondering how he might send for Carswell without offending the ladies. He would be able to read the confusing signals and make sense of them. The dead woman deserved that – the nature of her death needed to be illuminated. It was a matter of common decency and Giles could not think of anyone better to do it. He wondered if Lady Charlotte could be made to understand this and convey the necessity of it to Lady Rothborough. She certainly seemed intelligent enough.
They passed through a gateway, that was either a ruin or pretending to be a ruin, into a gloomy shrubbery where the winding paths had been laid between high hedges of yew that had been allowed to grow into the most fantastic and grotesque shapes.
“What is this place, if you don’t mind me asking?” Giles said.
“We call them the Pleasure Gardens,” said Lady Charlotte.
“It was built by my grandfather,” Lord Rothborough said, “to amuse his young wife and keep her from wanting to go back to London, which he detested. We have the grotto, the pool, the Italian Maze, the rambles, the tea house and the dairy. Oh, and there was a large aviary out here at one time. I have to confess, you are not seeing it all at its best. To be honest, I cannot decide what to do with it. We keep the lawns cut and the hedges in check, the buildings in repair, but nature has had her way rather readily. I think some more serious renovation is required. But what?”
“You shall not spoil it, Papa,” said Lady Charlotte. “My sisters and I will not forgive you. We used to love coming here when we were young. I hope to bring my own children here.”
“You must help me draw up a plan then, Charlotte.”
“With pleasure. One can only hope that this unfortunate business does not cast a shadow over the place,” she said, with a sigh. “Poor woman.”
“Do the servants usually take walks here?” Giles asked.
“That is what is odd,” she said. “It is not part of the Park, which is more or less public, but rather it is reserved for our family. Our indoor people do not come here for their recreation. Half of them think it is haunted anyway.”
“Oh, that old story,” said Lord Rothborough. “A great piece of nonsense.”
“But they do believe it, Papa, and my sisters did for years.”
“But you never did,” said Lord Rothborough, with a smile.
“Of course not,” she said. “I think it was made up to keep the servants out of the place.”
“Here we are,” said Lord Rothborough. “The Grotto and St Gertrude’s pool.”
They had emerged, through another pretend ruin, this time with the suggestion of an old abbey about it, into a deep basin, surrounded by high rocky cliffs, heavy with vegetation. In front there was the pool, a mass of dark green water spread out in front of them. It looked forbidding even on such a bright day.
At one point the cliffs fissured to form the entrance to what Giles supposed must be the Grotto itself. A perilous looking bridge, without rails, arched high over the water where it flowed into the Grotto. A narrow path edged the pool, giving access to the the grotto itself, and at first glance it looked as if it had been made deliberately narrow in order to increase the thrill of the approach, perhaps to give visitors the sensation that they were in a scene from one of Mrs Radcliffe’s novels. An elaborate, expensive conceit, Giles thought, and then wondered if simulated decay combined with real decay had made the place dangerous. Even though the weather had been dry, the shade cast by the over-hanging trees and the large quantities of moss might have made the path slippery, even at the best of times.
“Has anyone every fallen from that path before?” Giles asked Rothborough. “Or the bridge?”
“Not to my knowledge. You girls never used the path or the bridge, I am sure,” Rothborough said.
“No,” said Lady Charlotte. “Very sensibly you forbade it. We had a little boat to get into the grotto.”
“How deep is the water?” Giles said.
“At least twenty foot in the middle,” Rothborough said. “But it goes down by steps. It was quarried out to form the cliff.”
A stupid young lady in silly heels, anxious for a thrill, might lose her footing and tumble and drown. but a servant, in her mid-twenties, wearing sensible flat boots (he had noted them) – would she be likely to risk such a path? Would she have any interest in exploring a grotto? What had she been doing there? That was the puzzle.
“Perhaps you could tell me how it was you found her, my Lord?”
“We left the horses with the groom, at the tea house, and then went on foot. As I said, I am deliberating what to do with it all, and it seemed a good opportunity to look it all over. We went exactly the route we have just walked with you and came in, and there she was.”
“Face down in the water,” said Lady Charlotte.
“At the edge or in the middle?”
“At the edge, in those rushes there, by the little jetty.”
“What time was this?” Giles said.
“A little after ten,” said Lady Charlotte. “I know because I had just asked my father the time, just as we came through the Italian maze.”
“And that was all you found?”
“Yes.”
“I sent the groom to get some of the gardeners so we could get her from the water,” said Lord Rothborough. “And then we put her in the dairy, as Charlotte suggested.”
“I suppose it is most likely an accident,” said Lady Charlotte. “At least I hope so. But it all seemed so strange. Papa and I were agreed on that at once. It was odd that she should even be here.”
“And so I thought I had better send for you,” said Lord Rothborough.
Giles took out his notebook.
“Certainly it’s a case for the coroner. That is Mr Haines at Market Craven, I think? And we need a doctor,” he said. “And strictly speaking this is not my business to investigate. We ought to tell
Sir Arthur Felpsham and he should send some of his men.”
“Ah yes, Sir Arthur and his merry men,” said Rothborough. “That is precisely why I did send for you, Vernon, knowing you were in Stanegate. I do not have much faith in the County Constabulary and their Chief Constable. You might set them to find a poacher, if you were desperate, but I would not trust them with a matter like this, that may or may not be delicate. I scarcely need to tell you this – you must know it for yourself. The force in this locality cannot be said to be remotely effective. I did my best, but my neighbours and fellow justices are such a nest of Tories that I could not prevail upon them to attach sufficient importance to it. They do not seem to see which way the wind is blowing – Market Craven has three manufactories now, and another being built. The people are flooding in. The place is a disgrace, but will they consider expanding the force? And Stanegate – well, you will have observed for yourself how busy that is. With people of fashion too who will want to feel safe. But still old Sir Arthur keeps his place, with his dozy underlings!”
“That may be,” said Giles, “but I think it would be better if he were involved. I don’t wish to make an enemy of him. I cannot afford to do so, I am afraid.”
“You are right,” said Rothborough. “But we will be making a rod for our backs. Have you met Sir Arthur?”
“No.”
“Prepare yourself to be annoyed. Still, he will have to retire before too long, and this time, I will get a man in who knows what needs to be done. Someone like you, Major Vernon. In fact, the job would be there for your asking for it. It might suit you better than Northminster – being a countryman.”
Giles tried to think of a suitably bland response to this, and fortunately Lady Charlotte came to his rescue.
“Major Vernon?” she interjected. “Do you need me any longer? I think I ought to get back to the house. My mother will be wanting me, and I wonder if I ought to speak to Lady Warde?”
“I think I had better do that, if you don’t mind, Lady Charlotte?” Giles said. “But if you were with me, it might be useful.”
“Of course. May I go, then?”
The Shadowcutter Page 3