by Janet Woods
‘Try asking the reverend. If the items are not returned I will certainly inform a magistrate of my suspicions, and I might even hunt you down and kill you. By the way … I will be meeting with Edgar Pelham’s father and brother at the end of the week. You could attend the meeting too, and explain where those valuable goods have gone. You have made enough money from the estate sale to make reparation for the missing articles.’
‘You think you have it all worked out, don’t you?’ Ashburn sneered.
‘I hope not, because you know, Ashburn, I’d begun to like you. I thought you were honest.’
He shrugged. ‘Old habits die hard, I’m afraid. And if I apologize?’
‘It’s too late for that since there’s no trust left between us.’ Ryder gazed at Stephen and nodded.
Stephen said, ‘As for your hand in Mary Bryson’s death …’
Luke Ashburn turned pale as he stared at him. ‘What are you saying?’
‘We’re suggesting that, were we to consult a coroner, the most likely verdict would be that one or both of you fed her some laudanum until she didn’t know what she was doing, and you then carried her down to the stream and pushed her in.’
‘She fed herself the laudanum and then she walked off into the storm, raving like an old witch. She said she was going to confront the Manning sisters.’
‘And you didn’t try and stop her?’
‘I followed after her, but I didn’t lay one finger on her. I didn’t have to. She closed the sluice herself, I think. It was too dark to see anything properly and I didn’t know it had been closed. There was a bit of a splash, and then a cracking noise as the tree fell. I was lucky it missed me, because it was heavy. As far as I could see, the stone was amongst the roots and it slid on top of her and took her under the water when it sank.’
‘And you didn’t try to help her?’
‘I leave the heroics to people like you. I crept along the tree trunk but it began to move and I went back to the bank. I called out for her, but she’d disappeared and I can’t swim. I waited for ten minutes, and then I knew it was too late because nobody can last that long under water. I returned home and stayed there until one of the estate workers knocked at the door and told me about the flood.’
‘Why did you wait?’
‘I thought someone might try to blame it on me, because I forgot to open the sluice, I had too many other things on my mind. I wanted someone else to find her first, so I could be witness to it.’
Ryder sighed and put himself in Ashburn’s shoes. It was a lame excuse, but on examination it would hold up in an enquiry. ‘I will accept your version of events. Three days after the funeral I’ll call on you and the reverend, and we will settle the matter at hand. After that I hope never to see either of you again.’
The knock at the door caused the man to jump, but he had an expression of relief on his face.
Hal Stover stuck his head around the door. ‘Have you finished your business?’
At Ryder’s nod the rest of Hal followed through.
‘Mr Ashburn is about to leave, after which the clerk will attend us.’
When the door closed on Ashburn, Hal said to Tessler, ‘Where are those papers you want the earl to countersign?’
‘Papers! What’s going on, Hal? Stephen, you didn’t mention any papers.’
‘Mr Stover wanted to surprise you … such a childish notion.’
Hal grinned at that because Stephen was looking almost as excited as Hal. ‘You’re looking at Stephen Tessler’s new associate. Halifax Stover.’
Two days later Mary Bryson was buried. The day was windy and carried the salty smell of the sea inland. The event was well attended by most of the villagers, some out of respect, and others who hoped to catch a glimpse of the earl, or his paramour, the widow, Mrs Pelham.
Reverend Bryson looked old and grey, and Ashburn avoided Ryder’s gaze.
Ryder felt no remorse. The pair of them had sought to defraud Adele, and himself come to that. They were lucky to have escaped prison, or worse. He’d heard that the reverend had been offered a posting to a parish in Hampshire, so Ryder didn’t feel too guilty about his loss. It was far enough away to not be a bother to him.
As he’d promised Luke Ashburn, he visited at the end of the week to clear up the outstanding business.
The housekeeper answered his knock at the door, and she bobbed a curtsey. ‘The reverend asked me to dispose of all the personal items belonging to Mrs Bryson, poor soul, and to give the place a thorough clean for the next tenant. My husband will tidy up the garden at the weekend, like he usually does at weekends. He’ll prune the roses and dig some horse manure around for winter. Roses like plenty of manure.’
‘So I’ve heard. Did Mr Ashburn pay you?’
‘No, my lord … he said you would.’
Ashburn had bounced back quickly, he’d give him that.
‘Mr Ashburn left a satchel for you. He said it belongs to Mrs Pelham, and he found it under the wardrobe in one of the servants’ rooms. At the last minute, and just before I closed the door behind them, he remembered the Pelham girl had stayed the night before she was sent off to the workhouse, and thought it might be hers. “Off you go and look for it,” says he. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think we’d stolen it.” I told him it wouldn’t be there, how could it be. I would have seen it when I cleaned the room before. But there it was – in full view. You could’ve blown me down with a puff of wind. He told me there was probably a reward.’
She accepted a florin and Ryder took the satchel home. He went into the library and set things out on the desk. The purse was weighed down with sovereigns and everything was as it had been described. He put the will and the cottage deeds to one side.
His gaze went to the three journals and he smiled. Adele had kept a monthly journal since she’d first learned to read and write. He recalled that her first entry had stated emphatically, Rida wuz nortee.
He was tempted to read the journals. She would have mentioned the child she’d lost … their child. He sat for a long time gazing at the little pile of valuables, and thinking of Adele and the child. Then he raised the book to his nose and thumbed quickly through the pages. There was a short, elusive drift of perfume – roses, perhaps. Adele liked roses. The temptation to know what was in her journals almost overwhelmed him and he flipped open to a random page.
Sarah was punished for making friends with the deck boy. He was a nice lad of about twelve years, who was teaching her to tie knots. Edgar hit him with his cane. Sarah and I have a plan
What the hell was he doing! Throwing the book down he scrambled to his feet, crossed to the bell pull and gave it a jerk. After a while Sarah came in.
Her glance went to the objects on the desk and a smile lit her face. ‘You’ve found them … thank goodness. Adele had almost given up on the cottage. Now I can give them back to her. Where were they?’
Sarah was too sharp to be lied to and get away with it. ‘Apparently, Mrs Bryson stole them from your bag when you stayed overnight there.’
She looked troubled. ‘It had crossed my mind, so it doesn’t surprise me, though she denied having them when I asked her. It appears now that the woman has become a convenient scapegoat, since she can no longer defend herself. She was inquisitive nevertheless. Have the Reverend and Mr Ashburn gone?’
‘Yes.’ He noted the relief in her eyes. ‘Did he bother you?’
‘Sometimes, when we were working together … I was conscious of him watching me, and it made me uneasy when he stood too close. Then once, when I asked him to step back, he just laughed and kissed my cheek.’ She lifted her hand and unconsciously scrubbed it. ‘Then he said he might steal me and take me to America, just like my fath – uncle did to Adele … and that if he did that nobody else would want me because …’ She blushed. ‘I just didn’t like him. He was a bully, just like—’
Ryder cut in, ‘Was he indeed? You can stop worrying about him now, my dear.’
Her glance went to the j
ournals. ‘It occurs to me now that he must have read Adele’s journals to know such details.’ Her gaze came up to his, shining with the honesty of her own innocent conviction about gentlemen, until her hand came down on the books. ‘A gentleman wouldn’t stoop so low as to read a lady’s journal without her permission. You wouldn’t do such a thing, would you?’
He tried not to look guilty. ‘Indeed I would not. I’d rather like to give them to her myself. Ask her to come to the library. As for the other things, I’ll put them in the strongbox until tomorrow. Oh, by the way,’ he said as she turned to leave the room. ‘Hal has become a partner to Stephen Tessler in his legal practice. I have suggested you work for him two days a week, and the other three days for me.’
‘What if my family objects?’
‘I daresay we can talk them round. It’s not as though you’ll be far away. You won’t mind working for Hal, will you?’
A little blush of colour touched her cheeks. ‘Oh no. He’s such a pleasant man and I’ve … I mean all of us, and especially the aunts, have missed him visiting us at the cottage.’
‘Good … off you go then, Miss Pelham.’
Hal would have no trouble plucking this little peach from the branch when she was ripe, he thought with satisfaction.
A little while later, Adele came in. ‘Sarah said you’ve found my papers.’
‘They’re here on my desk.’
‘You haven’t read the journals, have you?’
‘Of course not.’
He basked under the warmth of her smile. Four steps brought him close to her. Cupping her face with both hands he tilted up her chin and kissed her soft mouth, shaping it to his so the natural pout of her bottom lip was full, ripe and moist, like a juicy cherry hanging from the tree in the orchard.
‘Do you remember when I carved “I love, you, Del, marry me” on the trunk of the cherry tree?’ he said. ‘You told me you’d sent me a whisper on the wind. What did that whisper say?’
She picked up the journals, holding them defensively against her, and backed warily away. ‘It was a childish game.’
‘I know what you whispered. You said you were too young to get married, but would love me for ever.’
‘Then you know what I said.’
‘You’re not too young now, so I’m asking you, and most humbly. I’ll beg you on my knees if you want me to.’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘No … you mustn’t be humble, it’s not in your nature. Besides, it will do you no good. Don’t ask me again … please, Ryder.’
There was something in those damned journals she didn’t want him to see. ‘What’s in those books that’s so important?’
‘Nothing.’ She slipped through the door and was gone, her feet pattering up the stairs.
Twenty
As best as she could, Adele tried to avoid Ryder for the rest of the day. He carried on as normal … as if what had occurred between them hadn’t happened.
Ryder asked the aunts to help pick half a dozen oddments of chairs from the Madigan House attic to replace the ones that had been soaked through. The maid gave the chairs a thorough pounding with a paddle to remove any dust. They were tied on to a wagon and would be pulled to the cottage by one of the farm horses the next morning.
First though, they must assist Sarah with her reunion. Ryder took the Pelham men into his library and introduced Hal. ‘Mr Stover will assist Miss Pelham, should she need his legal advice. I have spoken to Sarah about the circumstances of her abduction. She remembers very little of her childhood and is naturally quite reluctant. She is used to us, especially to Mrs Pelham, who had an important role in her upbringing.’
‘The woman lives here … with you?’ the elder man said, sounding rather taken aback.
‘May I remind you that you’re a guest in my home, sir.’
‘Your pardon, my lord.’
Ryder nodded, and addressed the younger man. ‘You may have noticed the damage done by the flood. Mrs Pelham’s cottage was flooded, and I offered Mrs Pelham, her two aunts and your daughter accommodation until it is dried out and they can all return home. Miss Pelham is usefully employed by me for three days a week, and Mr Stover intends to employ her for the other two days in his legal chambers in Poole.’
‘Doing what, my lord?’
‘In both instances she’s employed as a clerk. She has a good hand for copying documents and the like and is clever with numbers as well as having a sensible head on her shoulders. You can be proud of your young relative, sirs. Naturally, we will be sorry if you decide she must leave our midst.
‘We will show you the cottage later, so you can satisfy yourself that all is above board. In the meantime …’
He rang the bell and the housekeeper came in. ‘Are the ladies in the drawing room?’
‘Yes, my lord. I was about to serve tea.’
‘Then we will join them.’
As they crossed the hall, Ryder told them, ‘You will be pleased to know that the missing valuables have been found. They were mislaid in the home of the Reverend Bryson, who accommodated your daughter on her first night here. Mrs Bryson has since passed on in regrettable circumstances, otherwise I’m sure she’d have been happy to explain how they came to be in her possession.’
The drawing room was pleasantly warm. But Sarah began to tremble when the door opened.
‘Courage,’ Adele said.
Ryder took Sarah by the hand. ‘Sarah. May I introduce you. Mr Pelham. This is your daughter, Sarah.’
The pair looked at each other. Adele noticed that the looks of Sarah’s father was similar to those of Edgar, but different. Where Edgar had smooth, handsome features that were slightly feminine, his brother was rougher.
‘Sarah, my dear child, you’re so much like your mother,’ he said, tears seeping into his eyes.
‘Papa?’ Tentatively Sarah reached up and touched his cheek. Then his arms went round her and she hugged him tight and began to cry.
Ryder rode Henry. Adele came behind driving the donkey cart, piled with useful bits and pieces of china.
The workers respectfully snatched their caps from their heads when they saw Ryder leading the little procession. They soon relaxed when he began to laugh and joke with them.
Inside, the floor was now dry though some damp still seeped along the bottom of the walls. They had taken the curtains and linens to Madigan House to be washed, and they were rehung under Adele’s direction. The rugs hung limply over a hedge waiting their turn; they looked like gaudy sheep, worse for wear with drying mud. Their bald patches were evidence of the many feet that had skipped and walked the fluff from the surface over the years.
‘Allow me to supply you with some new rugs.’
‘We’re used to these, Ryder. They tell me I’m home. When the mud is dry I’ll give them a good beating and it will soon brush off.’
The ducks watched all the activity from a safe distance, making little quacking noises.
‘I hadn’t expected the cottage to be ready so quickly,’ she said, not knowing whether to be happy or sad about it.
‘We’ve had dry weather and the wind has been blowing through during the day and we’ve had the stove going all the time. The water went down quickly. The garden’s still a mess, but it will recover with a bit of pruning. It’s a pretty and solidly built cottage. I always felt at home here.’
They sat on the stairs to keep out of the way while the furniture was brought in, and she thought about it. ‘My father always wanted a son. I had a happy childhood here, but when you went away to school I was lonely. I was sorry I upset my father. I’ve always thought love had no limit, and it was not something that could be switched off the first time something went wrong.’
He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. ‘When did it go wrong for us?’
‘The day … I left.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. We’ll do it properly next time. I’ll arrange it. We’ll wed in the church in Poole. Instead of running away you’ll arrive in a pre
tty gown and I’ll give you emeralds instead of pearls. If you don’t turn up, bear in mind that when we’re old and wrinkled I’ll still be there, a skeleton to be pitied, waiting on my bony bent knees in my best hat and breeches for my true love.’
‘Oh, Ryder … you haven’t listened to one word I’ve said.’
He tossed a laugh her way. ‘I most certainly have. I do know that we love each other, so can you give me a good reason why we shouldn’t be wed?’
‘Because I wouldn’t be good for you.’
‘Allow me to be the judge of that.’
She had to tell him … she had to! But the words strangled her throat, paralysed her tongue and wouldn’t leave her mouth.
He’ll be horrified.
You know him better than that.
What she did know was that she had an uneasy feeling that matters were about to come to a head and everyone would learn of her crime. Her journals could have been read by anyone over the course of the last few months, and could soon be made public knowledge. If the Pelham men learned of it they were bound to prosecute her, and if she were found guilty they would hang her.
Her blood ran cold. The thought of being removed from those she loved was painful. Ryder would turn away from her. He would marry another and he would have children to love, despite his denial to the contrary. He would have to, unless he was prepared to hand his estate over to Oliver Bryson and Luke Ashburn, and he wouldn’t do that if he could prevent it by keeping the family name and bloodline intact.
If he married and had a family they would learn to despise her eventually. ‘I … I have … dreams.’
‘We all do.’
‘You don’t understand, Ryder. They are dreams about something that actually happened … a crime … a horrific crime.’
‘Tell me.’
Her voice dropped to a whisper and something inside her froze. ‘I cannot tell you … I cannot.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because the words won’t come out.’
‘Let me help them along,’ and he kissed her so tenderly she wanted to die on the spot and take that moment with her into heaven.