“Last night. She helped me dress for dinner. But another girl came to help me at bed time – a nice girl, like all the servants here. She told me that Eliza was ill – she sometimes gets these wretched headaches, and I thought, poor girl, I will not disturb her, it is often best to sleep off a headache, I find at least, and I that is the case with my Jones. Why do you ask, sir? Is everything all right.”
“We think Eliza may have met with an accident,” said Lady Charlotte, sitting down beside her.
“Oh, surely not,” said Lady Warde.
“She has not been seen since last night,” said Giles, “and this morning, the body of a young woman in a pool was discovered. Lady Charlotte recognised her as your maid.”
“Oh my,” said Lady Warde. “Dear Lady Charlotte, is this true? How can it be true?”
“I am so sorry, Lady Warde,” said Lady Charlotte, taking Lady Warde’s hand in both hers. “She has drowned.”
“But how?”
“We do not know exactly,” said Giles. “But I am afraid I will need you to identify her formally.” Lady Warde stared at him blankly, her mouth opening as if she meant to speak. But she was unable to find the words. “Please take a moment to compose yourself ma’am, I do understand this is distressing for you.”
“Yes, indeed, Lady Warde,” said Lady Charlotte. “Would you like a glass of water? Or some brandy?”
“You are sure it is her?”
“It seems likely,” said Giles. “That is why we need you to identify her. There is a chance that it may not be her at all.”
“It can’t be. Why on earth – what what would she be doing drowned? How?”
“As I say, ma’am we don’t yet know.”
“I do not think it can be Eliza,” said Lady Warde. “I do not understand how it could be. She is not a girl for running off, always so reliable and dependable. I simply do not understand!”
-0-
Later that day, Giles and Lady Charlotte took Lady Warde down to the Pleasure Gardens in the carriage and into the Chinese Dairy. The housekeeper, Mrs Hope, was also there and they both identified the woman as Eliza Jones.
Lady Warde’s reaction was one of genuine horror and sorrow. She fainted and had to be carried out and revived in the adjoining room. Fortunately Mrs Hope had brought her smelling salts. When she had recovered a little, Giles pressed on with his questions.
“How long had she been in your service?”
“Since she was a girl – I took her on when she was about seventeen. About ten years ago now, I suppose.”
“And she has never given you any trouble?”
“None at all. She was hard-working, loyal, honest, devoted,” she said, swallowing her sobs. “A perfect servant. It is too terrible – that she should end her life so wretchedly!”
“How did you come to employ her?”
“I can’t really remember. I was staying somewhere and she was looking for a place, and I had no maid at that time, so I took her on, and she has been with me ever since.”
“Does she have any family that you know of?”
“No, none, I think. She was quite alone in the world. That is what is so awful. I think she was an orphan.”
“No brothers or sisters?”
Lady Warde shook her head. “Not that I knew of.”
“Any followers?”
“Certainly not,” she said. “She would not allow that. She was devoted to me. I never knew what I did to deserve such a paragon, sir, and now she has been taken from me!”
She could no longer control her distress.
“Thank you, Lady Warde, that will be all for the present. Perhaps, Mrs Hope, you would escort Lady Warde back to the house?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I shall want to interview all the staff when I get back,” said Giles. “I would appreciate it, Mrs Hope, if they did not know at once why.”
“As you like, sir.”
The carriage was brought round and Mrs Hope and Lady Warde got in. Giles expected Lady Charlotte to climb in with them, but she did not.
“Will you not go back in the carriage?” he said.
“I thought I would walk back. I need exercise and now the heat has eased off a little –”
“Perhaps you can show me the way back, then?” he said. “I have a few questions for you, as it happens.”
“Of course,” she said.
They set off together, and after a little way, Giles said, “What I wish to know is this – who exactly is Lady Warde?”
“Who is she?” said Lady Charlotte. “That is a good question. She is a person – well, a person of a type one often finds in large houses such as ours. She is a permanent guest. A poor widow of good family who goes from house to house and is useful to her hostess. About whom one knows nothing, really. How odd it is, now I think of it.”
“She has been here a while?”
“She came with us from Sussex – from my mother’s house there.”
“And she was with you in Town before? For the Season?”
“No, not in Town. I think she was at Lady Sutton’s before, in Dorset.”
“How long were you in Sussex?”
“Six weeks – we always go there in the middle of May until the end of June. Then we have a month here – no longer, because my mother does not care much for it. And then my father goes to Scotland and we go back to Sussex. Except I am hoping to go to Scotland this year.”
“So she has been with you since mid-May? Almost two months?”
“Yes, and that is common enough. She generally stays two to three months with us, and then goes on elsewhere. She is well connected. And she is no trouble. She will wind wool and soothe sick children, turn pages and chaperone young people. She can be counted upon. My mother is fond of her for that reason.”
“And you?”
“I am ashamed to say I do not know her well enough to have any sort of opinion and I have never taken the trouble to know her. She is someone I overlook in general. She is so dull and wordy. I suppose I ought to like her. I certainly ought to have tried to like her. I have pitied her – but that is no defence. But I feel for her now. A loyal servant must mean a great deal to a woman like her who is always in someone else’s house.” She shrugged. “Yes, you have my secrets out of me, now Major Vernon. You see what little attention I pay to those around me, what a shallow creature I am!”
“No, I think what you say is acute. Did you not find it strange how little she knew about Eliza?”
“Yes and no.”
“I am sure you know a great deal more about your maid, Lady Charlotte.”
She considered for a moment.
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
“And how long has she been with you?”
“Two years.
“And what do you know about her?”
“She is one of seven. Her father is Welsh, her mother is from Devon. Her father used to be butler to Lord St Germain and her mother makes beautiful lace but would not teach Jane because it would ruin her eyes. Oh, and she does not much like dogs, but thinks a black cat the most perfect creature in the world. She has three brothers at sea – one is en route to Valpariso, and we are awaiting a letter. He is to get his master’s ticket, with luck!”
“All that in two years. You see my point. Whereas Lady Warde –”
“She was shocked. Surely that is enough for you?”
“Ten years – and she cannot remember where she comes from and who her people are? But then people can be indifferent to those who work for them, I suppose. If Lady Warde is wordy, as you say, she may have never stopped to listen.” Lady Charlotte laughed. “Or she is being deliberately bland. Never speak ill of the dead? We must give her a little time to recover and then she may say something more useful. In the meantime, there are the other servants. And of course, when the surgeon has seen her –”
“You have sent for Mr Carswell, I take it?” said Lady Charlotte.
“I am afraid I have,” Giles said, rather surprised she should raise the
subject.
“There is no need to apologise on my account,” she said. “To tell you the truth I am curious about Mr Carswell.”
“It must be difficult for you,” Giles said.
“Yes, but perhaps not as difficult as it is for him,” she said. “I may have the disadvantage of being female but I have the advantage of legitimacy. What sort of man is he?”
“Clever, good at his work, warm-hearted. Somewhat impulsive and passionate, but that is really to his credit. There is something rather fine about him, to tell you the truth. I owe him a great debt. He has done wonders with my wife who was very ill.”
“I should like to know him,” she said. “But my mother would never forgive me.”
“He will be here tomorrow – you had better take care to be busy with something else.”
“I shall. It is only idle curiosity, after all – I think.”
“I think it might be more than that,” he could not help saying. “A sister or a brother – well, it’s a precious thing, whatever the circumstances. We cannot pretend that these bonds of blood do not mean something.”
“I am so glad to hear you say that!” she exclaimed. “This subject – it is one I have so wanted to speak of to someone – to anybody – I cannot talk to my father, he would be too mortified, but I know he wants to speak of it. It really is quite impossible. Thank you, Major Vernon, for being so frank.”
“Perhaps we should head into the shade of those chestnuts? It’s rather warm out here in the sun,” he said after a moment.
“Yes, yes, what a good idea. Do you like these plantings?”
“They’re very fine.”
“My grandfather’s work – he inherited when he was in his minority and he set about planting trees, almost at once.”
And for the rest of the walk, Mr Carswell was not touched on again.
Chapter Five
A summons to Holbroke in Lord Rothborough’s hand would normally have been a matter for a scowl and some reluctance on Felix’s part. But the letter made it clear that it was Major Vernon who required his presence and that the matter in hand was significant, so he had no difficulty getting up that morning at six. He crept downstairs and found Sukey Connolly waiting for him. She had made him tea and toast, which he consumed standing up in the dining room.
“If there is any problem with Mrs Vernon –” he began.
“There won’t be,” she said. “I will keep her busy.”
“And explain to her why I have gone?”
“You don’t owe her any explanation,” said Sukey.
“Yes, but it would be civil, I think,” he said.
“But perhaps not in her best interest – nor yours,” Sukey said.
“Perhaps,” he said, embarrassed and yet grateful how clearly she had read the situation.
Lord Rothborough had arranged for a horse for him, with a groom to escort him, and although he was no great horseman, it was certainly pleasant to ride out from Stanegate on a fine morning, knowing that he had something specific to accomplish. There was a strange comfort in the prospect of a dead body.
Felix found Major Vernon in attendance on the body in an octagonal room, tiled with picturesque and extremely idealised scenes of peasant life through the seasons. He had only been to Holbroke twice but he had heard of the Pleasure Gardens and their fantastical nature.
“What is this place?” he said.
“An ornamental dairy,” said Major Vernon. “But today it is our morgue,” he added, drawing back the sheet to reveal the corpse of a woman lying on the great marble table in the centre of the room. “This is Miss Eliza Jones, servant to Lady Warde, one of Lady Rothborough’s guests. She was found floating in the grotto pool near here by Lord Rothborough and his eldest daughter yesterday at about half past ten in the morning. She was taken from the water about eleven, and she’s been here ever since.”
“Last seen alive?”
“The night before last, just before dinner, which is served at eight here. That is the last sighting of her I have been able to establish so far, but I haven’t questioned everyone yet. One of the groundsmen or gardeners may have seen her after that.”
“Bodies in water are always something of a puzzle.”
“I remembered you had said that,” Major Vernon said. “Which is why I sent for you.”
“I am glad you did. This is –” He squatted down peering at her head, which had a mass of contusions. “Quite interesting.”
“What do you think caused them?”
“I can’t say at once,” said Felix peering at the wounds. “They could be post mortem. This pool – are there rocks in it? A corpse can get quite battered in the water, and the face here has certainly taken a pounding, but you would expect that because the body will have been face down in the water. A corpse in water always is.”
“There are rocks about the edges, I think,” said Major Vernon. “We will go and look in a minute.”
“But, you know,” Felix went on, “this one here is really quite deep, and there is a considerable amount of blood matted in her braid, and the fact it is on the back of her head rather than the face? It makes me wonder –” Gently he slipped his hand under her head and lifted it so he could look better. It was not easy to see clearly even then, for her hair was dark, dense and sticky with blood. He squinted again, catching sight of something white, embedded in the wound. “Now, what is that there? I need a pair of tweezers. Here, sir, could you put your hand under there, and hold her in place while I get some?”
The Major obliged and Felix went scurrying to his bag.
“There we have it,” he said, after a moment’s more work. He held it up to the light and examined it. “It looks like a piece of shell to me.”
“The grotto cave is full of crushed shells,” said Major Vernon. “And perhaps some of her blood is there. I shall have to take another look. Could she have cracked her head open like this against a rough stone wall or the floor?”
“Yes, possibly,” said Felix. “You can put her down now, sir.”
“So perhaps she slipped backwards and cracked her head?” Major Vernon said. “Then, dizzy from that, she staggered and fell into the water and drowned? There are plenty of treacherous spots if you have already injured yourself.”
“Do folk often fall backwards against a wall?” said Felix.
“They might – if they were intoxicated.”
“Or you might fall if you were pushed by someone,” Felix said.
“That assumes there was someone else there.”
“Well, maybe there was. Perhaps it was a tryst.”
“That crossed my mind. Why else would she be all the way out here? The servants are not supposed to go into the Pleasure Gardens.”
Felix looked down at the body, rehearsing the possible scenarios in his mind.
“So did she die before or after she entered the water?” he said. “Was she drowned, and if not, what killed her? Why was she in the water and if she was alive when she entered the water, why did she not survive?” he said. “Those are the questions. And it won’t be easy to answer any of them until I have done the post-mortem and we have more information about the circumstances of her being here.”
Major Vernon nodded, and then said, “Assuming you are allowed to conduct the post-mortem. Haines, the coroner here, may have his pet physician. And you may not be popular being somewhat connected with this house.”
“What?” said Felix. “Oh, for the Lord’s sake!”
“I gather that Sir Arthur, the county chief constable and Haines are implacable Tories.”
“Lord Rothborough told you that, no doubt. And I am not connected with this house!”
“In their eyes you are. It is as well to be aware of these differences. If we are to make a case for you, we need to know where their prejudices lie. In the meantime, I suggest you make as thorough a survey as you can without taking a knife to her. And then we will go and examine the scene again.”
Felix nodded and pulled off
his coat.
“Could you perhaps take notes for me, sir?” he said. “That will speed up the process. And I think we do need to be speedy if this gets snatched away from us by local stupidities.” Major Vernon nodded and reached for his notebook. “But first we need to get her undressed.”
Together they removed her layers of clothing, which revealed nothing very particular, until he had got her stays off, and ripped open her shift, to reveal a characteristic swelling of the abdomen.
“Is that –?” began the Major.
“Possibly,” Felix said, rolling up his sleeves. “I can find out soon enough.”
He began an internal examination. His fingertips had just made contact with what was unmistakably a foetus of four to five months’ growth, when the door flew open. He glanced up, his mind still making sense of the implications of what he had just felt, and saw an elegant young woman dressed in a riding habit standing in the door way. She took in the scene before her and her gloved hand flew to cover her mouth. She then turned and fled.
“Lady Charlotte...” Major Vernon said and went rushing after her.
With his index finger, Felix discovered what was the top of the child’s head and found himself shaking with pity and rage for this poor unborn creature and its horrible fate. Or at least he told himself it was for the child. For at the same time his heart was set adrift on a vast and boiling ocean of feelings, which if he had been a woman, he felt might have brought him to the floor in a dead faint.
With all the effort he could muster, he collected himself, gently taking his hand from the dead woman’s womb, and covering her entirely up again, with all the care he could find in himself, when all the time his imagination was picturing the face of the young woman in the riding habit.
A moment later, Major Vernon returned, closing the door behind him.
“Is she all right?” asked Felix.
“Yes,” said the Major.
Felix went towards the door.
“Are you sure that is wise?” said Major Vernon.
“I don’t know,” Felix said. “I want to... I need to...” and he opened the door and went out.
He saw at once that she was standing in the room on the other side of the hall, but in the doorway, as if she were hesitating on the threshold, that she too felt drawn back towards him.
The Shadowcutter Page 5