Julia stalked into the room and shut the door behind her—nearly a slam. “You have been treating Eva like your personal servant and I am bloody tired of it.”
Phoebe flinched at the word that shot out of Julia’s prettily bowed lips. “My goodness, you are incensed. Well, I’ll have you know I had nothing to do with Eva leaving this morning. Constable Brannock wished her to talk to the handyman from the school. There was a frightful to-do there earlier, and the poor chap has been arrested. Mr. Amstead is in hospital.”
“What has any of that to do with me? Why must you be so tiresome and why can’t you keep your nose out of everyone’s business?”
Phoebe went back to studying her map. It was a travel guide of the Cotswolds that showed scenic routes and pointed out sites of interest, including churches and chapels. Eva had shared her revelation about Elliot with her. She found three churches called St. James—a Church of England in Westford, a Catholic church in Farmingworth, and a Methodist chapel in a tiny village called Chadham.
Though it might sidetrack her a bit from discovering the truth of Miss Finch’s death, she couldn’t simply ignore the plight of a young man who couldn’t speak in his own defense. She had hoped she and Eva might explore together, find Elliot Ivers’s home, and learn more about him—perhaps something that would garner the court’s sympathy. But though she loathed admitting it, Julia was right about Eva. Phoebe had been taking her away from her regular duties, but it wasn’t so much Julia’s perceived hardships that preyed on Phoebe’s conscience, but the knowledge that Eva was still required to complete her chores each day—all of them, no matter how few hours were left as evening drew upon them.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and whatever further complaints Julia had been leveling at her, which she had thoroughly ignored. Amelia came in with Lilyanne behind her.
“Julia, there you are,” the youngest Renshaw sister said brightly. “It’s come to my attention that Jane and Lilyanne have never been to Bath. Can you imagine? So we’d like to go this afternoon, but Grams said we had to ask you to come with us. Will you? Please? Do say yes.”
Julia’s brow crinkled. “Sorry, I’ve plans to go up to London today. Ask Phoebe. She has nothing better to do.”
“Excuse me, did I just hear you say you were going up to London?” Amelia and Lilyanne stepped aside as Grams swept in behind them. She didn’t wait for Julia’s answer. “You are not going to London, Julia. I need you here.”
“But Grams—”
Grams turned her attention on the younger girls. “You two run along and ring for Eva to help you and the others get ready. I’ll be there presently and we’ll plan your visit to Bath.” All smiles now, Amelia and Lilyanne practically bounced out of the room, and Phoebe noticed with a burst of pleasure that they were holding hands.
“Now then, Julia.” Grams’s voice dipped low. “You have done precious little so far to assist with our visitors. As of today that will change. A trip to Bath will provide an educational experience for them as well as an enjoyable outing, and I will rely on you to see that they make the most of their time there. Eva shall accompany you.”
“But Grams . . .” Julia trailed off, and Phoebe could just hear the question her sister longed to ask. Why don’t you go with them, Grams? But even Julia wouldn’t dare risk such impertinence with their grandmother. Instead she pleaded, “My plans are made. Althea Davenport and her family are expecting me. There are theater tickets and dinner plans, a luncheon tomorrow . . .”
Grams said, not unkindly, “You should have inquired with me first.”
“I didn’t know I had to,” Julia mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Grams. What am I to do about the Davenports?”
“My dear, that’s what telephones are for, no?”
Julia took on a decidedly tragic mien. Rather much, Phoebe thought, for dashed hopes concerning the Davenports, especially when she hardly ever mentioned Althea’s name these days. Phoebe determined it best to forego all signs of gloating, and resumed studying her map. She had lost Eva as her travel companion, yes, but she had gained the luxury of an entire, guilt-free afternoon, where she needn’t worry about lessons or mediating arguments between their young guests.
She set out in the Vauxhall shortly before Julia and the girls were to drive away in Grampapa’s Rolls-Royce. With her map tucked in her handbag, Phoebe first headed to the village.
When she arrived at the police station, she found Chief Inspector Perkins occupying the larger of two desks in the front office. His feet were propped on the desktop and he leaned back in his swivel chair with a newspaper opened in front of his face. He peered over it as she stepped inside. She saw no evidence of Constable Brannock anywhere.
“Ah, Lady Phoebe.” He hastily refolded the paper and set it aside. “What might I do for you today?” He eyed the parcel she carried.
“I have some magazines and things for Elliot, if that’s all right.”
“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll have to have a look first.”
She laid the bundle on the desk and tugged one end of the twine to untie it. Plain brown paper fell away to reveal the magazines, a blanket and pillow, and some separately wrapped cheese and baked goods. “I assure you there are no files or crowbars, Inspector. May I take them back? Miss Huntford wished to be here but had business elsewhere today. I should like to let Elliot know she is thinking about him.”
“Wasting her thoughts on an imbecile with violent tendencies?” The man’s sigh sent a whiskey-tinged waft in Phoebe’s face. She recoiled and only just stopped herself from fanning the air with her hand. He unlocked a drawer and brought out a key.
It was all she could do to remain civil. “Thank you, Inspector. I shan’t keep you long.” She rewrapped the bundle as the man pushed out of his chair. She followed him into the back corridor and waited silently as he unlocked the cell door.
“You’ve got a visitor,” the inspector said gruffly. “Sit up. There’s a good lad. No sulking. It’s her young ladyship from Foxwood Hall come to do you an enormous kindness, so you’ll be treating her with respect or I’ll—”
“There is no need for threats, Inspector.” Phoebe stepped around him and entered the cramped, stuffy room. “Good morning, Elliot. I’ve brought you some things to make you more comfortable.” She held out the bundle.
He sat at the corner of his cot against the wall, his knees drawn up and encircled by his arms. He peeked sideways at her through a fringe of hair, and then tucked his chin lower.
Inspector Perkins jabbed a finger in his direction. “What did I tell you?”
“Inspector, please. If you’ll just wait outside, I won’t be but a moment.”
The man’s eyebrow slanted in disapproval, but he stepped back into the tiny corridor that barely accommodated his girth.
Phoebe approached the cot and set the parcel down. “These are actually from Miss Huntford. She wished to come herself, but couldn’t get away this morning. I’m sure she’ll visit you just as soon as she may. Would you like to see what she sent?”
Without waiting for an answer, she again peeled away the corners of the wrapping. For an interminably long moment Elliot didn’t so much as blink. Just as she was about to back out of the room, he turned his head. She smiled at him, hardly daring to hope for a reciprocal gesture.
“There’s a blanket and food and a few other things,” she said eagerly, but quietly. She didn’t wish to frighten him. A glance over her shoulder brought the inspector into view. He leaned against the doorway of the front room, his shoulders hunched and hands in his coat pockets. An off-key little tune emanated from his pursed lips.
She turned back to Elliot. “Once I leave here, I’ll be embarking on a bit of an excursion. I’ve errands to run, you see, but I’ve never been to some of these places. Perhaps you’ve heard of them? Farmingworth? Do you happen to know where that is?”
Elliot looked at her blankly. He reached out, and with one finger stroke
d the brown wool blanket peeking out from the bundle.
“Hmm. I must also pass through Westford. Have you ever been there?”
He uncurled his arms and legs and swung to the edge of the bed where he could sit up properly. With both hands he delved into the pile she had brought him. He found the food and carefully unwrapped it.
“Our cook included some of her famous Eccles cake and a date and walnut loaf. I know you’ll enjoy them.” She looked over her shoulder again. The inspector continued whistling his tune and now studied his fingernails. “Tell me, Elliot, do you know of a village called Chadham?”
About to break off a bit of the date and walnut loaf, he went utterly still. Phoebe’s breath—indeed the very blood in her veins—froze. Had she struck upon something? The moment ended all too ambiguously as Elliot returned to sampling the loaf with a small bite.
Had he truly reacted? Phoebe wasn’t quite sure. But perhaps.
“Good-bye for now, Elliot. I’ll . . . em . . . give Miss Huntford your regards. I’m sure she’ll be by soon to see you.”
“Miss Huntford.”
“Yes.” Oh, why couldn’t he have spoken when she mentioned the villages? She sighed and made her way out.
The inspector nodded at her as she passed him, and went to lock the cell door. Phoebe walked through to the front room to discover Constable Brannock had returned.
She spoke quickly, before the inspector returned. “I can’t be certain, but he might have reacted to the name of a village I mentioned. I’m going to take a drive there and see what, if anything, I can find out.”
Something in the constable’s expression put her on the alert, but before he could reply, Inspector Perkins returned. “Is there anything else, Lady Phoebe?”
Such a tiresome man. “No, that’s all for now, Inspector. Good day to you both.”
Outside, the engine of a familiar, three-wheeled Runabout puttered directly behind her Vauxhall. With her handbag swinging from her elbow, she dug in her heels and propped her hands on her hips.
“So this is why Constable Brannock looked at me the way he did. He knew you were outside waiting for me.”
The handsome, ebony-haired man grinning broadly at her from behind the steering wheel laughed. “He did indeed, Phoebe. I ran into Brannock this morning and he told me about what Miss Huntford learned from Elliot yesterday. I assume you’re going exploring. Get in.”
“What do you mean, you ran into Constable Brannock? How? What are you still doing in Little Barlow?”
“I’ve taken rooms at the Calcot Hotel.” He waggled a finger at her. “You’re dabbling in trouble again.”
“Yes, well. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Owen—”
“I’m joking. Do get in.” He reached over and opened the passenger door for her. “Unless you’d rather go motoring up and down the Cotswolds alone. Doesn’t sound like much fun, though, does it?”
* * *
“What do you mean, you can’t find her?” Eva had come upstairs to help the girls on with their outerwear, only to be confronted with Lady Amelia’s unexpected announcement that Jane was nowhere to be found. “Lady Wroxly told me you all wished to go to Bath today.”
“We did—that is, we do. We discussed it last night, and Jane was as eager as Lilyanne to go, since she has never been. But she was up before any of us, and we haven’t seen her since.”
“Surely she’s downstairs somewhere. Did you check?”
Lilyanne nodded, and Amelia said, “That was our first guess. But she’s not in the morning room, the library, or anywhere else we could think of. We checked the billiard room and Rosalind Sitting Room, too.”
Eva considered the most likely places a young lady would wish to visit on the estate. “And she’s not outside in the gardens?”
“If she were, we’d be able to see her from my bedroom windows, wouldn’t we?” Lady Amelia frowned and nipped at her bottom lip. “Where on earth could she be?”
Dressed in bright spring colors, Julia emerged into Amelia’s bedroom from the dimness of the hallway. She wore her coat and carried her new toque hat with flowers decorating the band. “Where could who be? Aren’t you all ready to leave yet?”
Lady Amelia continued chewing her lip and exchanged an ominous look with Lilyanne. Eva folded her hands at her waist and drew a fortifying breath. “It appears we’ll be delayed a few minutes in leaving, my lady. Jane appears to have gone off somewhere, though I’m sure we’ll find her directly.”
Lady Julia, her jaw stiffening, released a weary sigh, pivoted on her heel, and stalked from the room. “I’ll be downstairs in the library—waiting. Come get me the very instant the child is found and ready to go.”
“She certainly doesn’t seem at all concerned about Jane, does she?” Lady Amelia observed, and Lilyanne agreed with a solemn shake of her head.
“I’m quite sure there is nothing to be concerned about,” Eva reassured her, though a small doubt niggled. A certain memory struck her then, of another girl who went temporarily missing. Last winter, Eva had discovered the parlor maid handing out food to needy local children near one of the hothouses out past the kitchen garden. Perhaps Jane had gone out through the service courtyard and wandered in the same direction. Hedges and well-placed trees blocked the view of that area of the grounds, and Amelia might not have seen Jane from her windows.
“I have an idea,” she said, and proceeded to help the girls on with their coats. “Where is Lady Zara, by the way?”
“Waiting in her room,” Amelia said with a roll of her eyes. “She’s behaving quite like Julia about the whole matter. Says she couldn’t care less about seeing Bath again, that it’s just a pile of rubble these days, and she would much rather stay at Foxwood. But Grams said she must come along.” She bent lower as Eva pinned her hat in place, and then Eva did the same for Lilyanne.
“Then please go and get her and all of you wait in the library with Julia,” Eva said.
“Don’t you want us to help look?” Amelia sought consensus from Lilyanne. “We could spread out, each of us take an area.”
“I don’t mind helping, Miss Huntford,” the redhead said shyly.
“As much as I appreciate that, girls, I believe it would be better for you to stay together in the house. Otherwise it could take half the morning to gather all of you together again.”
After seeing the girls into the library, Eva hurried belowstairs, grabbed one of the ready cloaks hanging on a row of pegs by the courtyard door, and hurried outside.
For April, a brisk wind circled the courtyard walls. Eva held the cloak closed and stepped through the gate onto the path. She skirted the kitchen garden, waving to Nina, the newest kitchen maid. Then she strode up and down the aisles between the greenhouses. Pervading stillness but for the birds and swaying trees told her no one was about.
An uneasy sensation came over her. According to Lady Amelia, Jane often made a habit of arriving tardy to lessons, while offering up little or no excuse. Was this a continuation of that behavior? Was she merely exploring Foxwood, or had she slipped away on some errand she didn’t wish anyone to know about? Eva turned back and made her way slowly toward the hedge that marked the separation between the service grounds and the gardens. Footsteps crunched behind her. She turned to see Jane Timmons coming through the trees on the far side of the kitchen garden. The girl saw her and stopped in midstep, her expression registering surprise. Then she continued around the garden’s perimeter.
“Good morning, Miss Huntford.”
“Jane, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She smiled and brushed strands of fine brown hair away from her face. She wore a simple gray skirt, serviceable ankle boots, and a military-styled trench coat over a shirtwaist. “Just out for a walk.”
“Without telling anyone? Lady Amelia had no idea where you’d gone. We were growing worried.”
“Well, I’m back now. Has Ameli
a arranged for us all to go to Bath?”
“Jane, I must ask you where you were.”
For an instant the girl looked at a loss. Then her confidence fell back into place. “As I said, I was walking. There’s nothing quite like a morning ramble, is there?”
Eva hesitated. If she brought up Jane’s habitual and unexplained tardiness at school, Jane might realize the disclosure had come from Amelia. Eva didn’t wish to create ill feelings among the girls. But from now on she would keep a closer eye on Jane Timmons. “While you are at Foxwood Hall, we are responsible for you, Jane. Please don’t leave again without telling someone.”
“All right, I won’t. Shall we go now? I’m excited to see Bath, and we don’t want to waste the rest of the morning.” Jane set off walking, leaving Eva with admonitions fading on her lips and little choice but to follow.
CHAPTER 15
Phoebe soon understood why the Morgan Runabout typically outraced so many other motorcars. She also began to understand why Eva often clutched the seat as they motored about in the Vauxhall. Not that the Vauxhall ever achieved speeds such as those now sending the countryside streaking past.
“Even if you hadn’t needed me today . . .” Owen trailed off as he slowed for a small gaggle of geese ambling across the road. Phoebe was about to protest that she hadn’t needed him, not really, when he continued. “I’d have telephoned you anyway. I’ve discovered a thing or two about your Nurse Delacy.”
“You made inquiries into her war service?”
“I most certainly did. The woman bears watching, and frankly I’m astounded that she would have been hired on at a girls’ school. Or anywhere she would come in contact with helpless patients.”
A Pinch of Poison Page 19