by Dilly Court
‘What happened about her audition?’
‘She’s got a part in Boucicault’s latest play at the Lyceum,’ Davey said enthusiastically. ‘I’ve forgotten what it’s called but she can’t talk about anything else.’
‘Perhaps this isn’t the right time to talk about it,’ Moorcroft said softly.
‘I’m glad for her,’ Sarah said dully. ‘But at the moment I can’t really think straight.’
Moorcroft took Davey aside. ‘It’s the living we must take care of now, my boy. I want you to take Sarah to the hotel and order dinner for all three of us. I’ll settle matters here and follow on as soon as I can.’
Sarah pulled back the sheet and dropped a kiss on Grey’s forehead. ‘I’ll take you to Blackwood. You’re going home, Tobias Grey.’
They arrived in Elbow Lane in the early afternoon. The events of the previous day were a blur in Sarah’s mind, but after a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed she was feeling more able to cope with what lay ahead. Mrs Arbuthnot was sincere in her welcome, and below stairs in the warmth of the kitchen Sarah had an eager audience in Cook, Dorcas and Betty, who wanted to hear every detail of her trip to France and bombarded her with questions. She was plied with tea and seed cake and each of them in turn begged her to remain in London.
‘You don’t want to go back to that draughty old house in the wilds of Essex,’ Cook said, refilling Sarah’s teacup for the second time. ‘We’ve got room for you here now that young Nettie’s living in digs nearer the theatre. Dorcas and me have got tickets for her first night. I can’t wait to see her on stage.’
Dorcas offered her another slice of cake. ‘I’ve made it up with Wally and we’ll be getting married soon, Sarah. I’m sure that the mistress would take you on in my place.’
Betty shuffled across the floor to sit by Sarah’s side. ‘I’d like you to stay. I misses you something terrible.’ She shot a resentful glance at Dorcas. ‘She slaps me round the lughole for nothing. Bad-tempered bitch.’
‘Language, Betty,’ Cook said, frowning. ‘Dorcas has every right to discipline you when you do wrong.’
Betty huddled up against Sarah’s knee. ‘I’d like to live in that house in the country. Can I come with you?’
Sarah stroked Betty’s lank mousey hair back from her forehead. ‘Not today, love. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing. I think the house belongs to Mr Fitch now, and he won’t want me there.’
‘What about that handsome young chap who came to fetch Mr Moorcroft?’ Dorcas said, eyeing Sarah curiously. ‘There’s a romance in the air if I’m not mistaken.’
‘You hear wedding bells everywhere.’ Cook chuckled and all her chins wobbled. ‘Ever since Miss Parfitt and Franz announced their engagement there’s been wedding fever in this house, Sarah. You’re lucky you’ve missed it all.’
‘Miss Parfitt is going to be married?’
‘In a few weeks’ time,’ Dorcas said smugly. ‘But Wally and me will beat her to it. You’ll come to our wedding, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Sarah said, smiling dazedly. ‘It’s a lot to take in at once, but I’ll be here if I can. The trouble is that I don’t know what’s happening to Davey and his brothers and sister. I have to go back to Blackwood for Grey’s funeral and Davey needs to find a new home for himself and the children.’ She rose to her feet, gently freeing her skirt from Betty’s clutching fingers. ‘You be a good girl now, Betty, and I’ll see you again very soon.’
Cook’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Think about what I said, Sarah. There’s a job here when Dorcas goes. You could do worse and I’m sure that the mistress will agree to take you on.’
‘Thank you all for being so kind.’ Sarah turned away to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes. She did not want to disgrace herself by crying in front of them, nor did she want to upset Betty who would almost certainly join in and start howling. ‘I’d best go upstairs before they come looking for me.’
She found Davey and Moorcroft in the parlour conversing earnestly with Mrs Arbuthnot.
‘I’m just leaving,’ Moorcroft said, turning to Sarah with a tired smile. ‘It’s been a long day but it’s not over yet. I’m going straight to Spital Square to see George Fitch. He is the next of kin and must be notified.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ Sarah met his surprised look with a steady gaze. ‘I think he hid Elsie’s will because he knew that she’d left the house to Grey.’
‘That’s a serious accusation,’ Moorcroft said slowly. ‘Can you prove it?’
‘Of course not, but he’s capable of anything. Did Davey tell you that Fitch has been dealing with the free traders? That’s why he allowed the rumours of Blackwood House being haunted to circulate and frighten off visitors. He didn’t want anyone to discover the secret passage that leads to the church crypt, and the regular cargoes of contraband that find their way to Blackwood’s cellars.’
Moorcroft’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. ‘Is this true?’
‘It’s true, sir.’ Davey nodded emphatically. ‘I’ll bear witness to that and I can name a dozen or more people who’ll testify against Fitch.’
‘What does all this mean, Martin?’ Mrs Arbuthnot looked from one to the other. ‘It sounds very serious.’
‘It changes everything,’ Moorcroft said, running his hand through his grizzled hair. ‘I need to speak to my former client right away, and you should accompany me, Sarah.’
‘Me too, sir.’ Davey moved swiftly to Sarah’s side. ‘I’ll have a few words to say to Mr Fitch.’
‘No, my boy. I think it best if you return to your village. You must go to Blackwood House and make sure that your sister and brothers are all right. If George has sent Mrs Trigg to evict them they could be in serious trouble.’
Sarah caught Davey’s eye and shook her head. She knew that he was thinking of the body caught up in the embrace of the yew tree tunnel. The thaw must have set in by now, and unless Parker had managed to dispose of the corpse it would be decomposing. ‘Yes, Davey,’ she said, fixing him with a meaningful stare. ‘Please go to Blackwood and make sure that everything is all right. Parker isn’t the most forgiving or patient of men and your brothers can be very lively. The children need you.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He hesitated. ‘But there’s a question of funds. I’m sorry, Mr Moorcroft, but I’ll have to ask if I may borrow the train fare. I’ll repay you as soon as I’m able to.’
Moorcroft put his hand in his pocket and took out a handful of coins. ‘This should be enough to keep you and your family for a while. You won’t be able to go fishing until your broken bones mend.’
‘Thank you, sir. I’m indebted to you.’ Davey’s cheeks flushed and he looked away.
Sarah could feel his embarrassment and she linked her hand through his arm. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get through this somehow, Davey. I’ll follow you to Blackwood as soon as I can. I’ve a funeral to arrange and I know that Grey would want to be buried in the family plot. That’s something else I want to discuss with Mr Fitch.’
George Fitch sat behind his large desk, steepling his fingers. ‘Well, Martin, what have you to say? I’m a busy man and I don’t have time to spare on trivialities.’
‘The first thing I have to do is to tell you that your nephew, Tobias Grey, passed away after a short illness.’
George’s jaw dropped as he digested this piece of news. ‘So he’s escaped the law after all. I always knew he was a slippery character.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Sarah cried angrily. ‘You placed false charges against him. Grey didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘What’s she doing here, Martin? My agent, Mrs Trigg, told me that this little troublemaker was trespassing on my property.’
‘I came because Grey wanted to be buried in the family plot,’ Sarah said without giving Moorcroft a chance to respond. ‘And it was Grey who took me to Blackwood House, so I wasn’t trespassing as you put it. He had as much right as anyone to be there. In fact, it was pr
obably left to him in Elsie’s will, the document that has so mysteriously disappeared.’
George slammed his hands down on the tooled leather top of his desk. ‘You can’t prove anything. The whole estate belongs to me now.’
‘So you admit that you are responsible for the property?’ Moorcroft betrayed nothing by his expression or tone of voice.
‘Of course,’ George said firmly. ‘I am the legal owner, and I’ve sent my agent to evict those who have no right to be in my property.’
‘Does that include the smugglers?’ The words tumbled from her lips before Sarah could stop herself.
George leapt to his feet. ‘Get out of my house. I won’t have you making such preposterous accusations against me. Martin, you’re my lawyer, I want to sue her for slander.’
‘I gave up that onerous task some time ago as you will recall, Mr Fitch,’ Moorcroft said calmly. ‘There are witnesses who will testify in court that Blackwood House has been used to store contraband for many years, and that there is a secret passage leading to the crypt of the village church.’
‘Utter nonsense,’ George spluttered. ‘And if anyone has been using the house in my absence then it’s Parker who is to blame. I don’t know anything about it.’
‘But you’ve just told us that Mrs Trigg is your agent,’ Sarah said smoothly. ‘And she organises the collection of the smuggled goods and their transport to your warehouse in London.’
‘Then she is the criminal. I trusted that woman to do my business for me and this is how she repays me. My depot is filled with Spitalfields silk, ready for export to the Americas. I don’t deal in contraband.’ George began pacing the floor in an agitated manner that was not lost on Sarah.
‘Then it won’t worry you that the revenue men are at this moment on their way to examine the contents of your warehouse,’ Moorcroft said, rising to his feet. ‘I notified them before I came here this morning. They will also search Blackwood House and its cellars, but if you have nothing to hide then you need not worry.’
George’s face reddened and his eyes bulged. ‘Get out of here and take that little trollop with you. You shouldn’t believe a word she says. She’s a little whore who thought she could get her hands on the estate by sleeping with my nephew because he told her that he would inherit Blackwood when Elsie died. I wouldn’t be surprised if they murdered my sister so that they could get their hands on her money.’
Sarah flew at him, fingers clawed. Taking him by surprise, she raked her nails down his cheek. Uttering an oath, he gave her a mighty shove that sent her tumbling to the floor. He clutched his hand to his bleeding face. ‘Get her out of here, Moorcroft, or I’ll send for a constable to arrest her for assault on my person.’
Moorcroft helped Sarah to rise. ‘You deserved that, Fitch. And I don’t think you’ll press charges because you won’t want the police involved. You’re already in a great deal of trouble. I suggest you hire a solicitor who is less particular in his choice of clients than I am.’ He took Sarah by the arm. ‘We’re leaving.’
Outside in the square Moorcroft hailed a hansom cab. ‘We’ve started something now,’ he said as he climbed in after Sarah. ‘I’ve known George for many years and he’ll stop at nothing to get his own way.’
‘But he’s guilty. He’s been dealing in contraband for years, and there’s something else.’ She stared straight ahead, unable to look him in the face. ‘It’s something that Grey told me with his dying breath.’
‘What is it, Sarah? You can tell me anything.’
‘I know I can, sir. But this affects you personally, or I think it does.’
‘Go on.’
‘He told me that Elsie’s baby was a girl and that she didn’t die at birth. George Fitch had her taken to the St Giles workhouse and abandoned her there.’ She shot him a sideways glance and was alarmed to see his jaw muscle tighten and the glint of tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, but it might be good news, sir. She might still be living in London.’
‘I can’t believe that even George would give up his own flesh and blood to be reared in such appalling circumstances,’ he said dazedly. ‘It would have broken Elsie’s heart had she ever discovered the truth.’
‘Grey told her on her deathbed, but I’m certain that she would have been happy to know that her child lived,’ Sarah said softly. ‘It’s possible that you might have a daughter.’
He took a large white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. ‘It’s not very likely, Sarah, and even if she survived the workhouse she could be anywhere in the country.’ He stowed his hanky away, adopting a brisk attitude. ‘Now we must work quickly. George can’t afford to let matters lie. We should go to Blackwood House immediately.’
‘I agree. That man has a lot to answer for.’
‘Indeed he does. I’ve already notified the police in London, but if George gets there first he’ll destroy all the physical evidence, and Mrs Trigg will back him up because she stands to lose everything including her freedom.’
‘I’m afraid for the children.’
‘We’ll stop at my lodgings and I’ll collect a change of linen, and then we’ll go on to Elbow Lane and put Sophia in the picture. I don’t want her worrying herself sick over what might happen to me. I mean us. She’s very fond of you, Sarah.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ Mrs Arbuthnot faced them with a martial glint in her eyes. ‘I’m not missing this for anything, Martin, so you can just wait while I pack a few things and then I’ll be ready to leave.’
‘But my dear Sophia, this might prove to be dangerous. George isn’t a man to toy with, and there is a lot at stake here.’
‘Do you think I’m afraid?’ Mrs Arbuthnot drew herself up to her full height. ‘If George Fitch is involved with that dreadful Trigg woman I have a score to settle with them both. My poor James was ruined by her husband and I daresay she knew all about it and egged him on. I want them both punished.’
Sarah could see that Moorcroft was at a loss. ‘But things might turn nasty, Mrs Arbuthnot. The yew tree tunnel holds a terrible secret.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
DESPITE SARAH’S FOREBODINGS all was quiet when they finally arrived at Blackwood House. ‘It’s a fine place,’ Moorcroft said as he helped Mrs Arbuthnot alight from the carriage that had transported them from Maldon station. ‘No wonder you speak so highly of it, Sarah.’
She smiled vaguely. ‘I hope everything is all right.’
‘Lead the way, my dear,’ Mrs Arbuthnot said, shaking the creases from her wide skirts. ‘We’ll follow on.’
Sarah left Moorcroft arguing about the fare with the driver who had apparently almost doubled the price he originally quoted. She picked up her skirts and walked briskly along the gravel path that ran alongside the yew tree tunnel. Her heart was racing as she peered into the thick branches, but if Trigg was still entwined within its deep green depths there was no outward sign of his presence. She quickened her pace at the sound of childish voices and ran into the stable yard to find the boys playing ball, and Mary pegging clothes on a makeshift washing line. It was a pleasing domestic scene utterly at odds with the mayhem she had been imagining all the way from London.
Mary dropped the small garment she was about to hang out and ran towards her with a cry of delight. ‘You’re home. I’m so glad to see you.’
Jonah and Lemuel stopped in the middle of their game and crowded round them. ‘Did you bring us anything?’ Jonah demanded with a cheeky grin.
‘Shame on you,’ Mary said, giving him a playful slap. ‘Where are your manners?’
Sarah smiled. ‘I’ve brought a very kind lady and gentleman to see you, and Mrs Arbuthnot’s cook sent a whole basket of nice things to eat, including cake.’
‘Cake?’ Lemuel’s eyes shone with expectation. ‘Where is it?’
‘What sort of cake?’ Jonah demanded, licking his lips. ‘I can’t remember the last time we had cake.’
‘Run as fast as you can to the carriage sweep and help them with t
heir luggage,’ Sarah said, laughing. ‘Show them to the drawing room and we’ll be in directly.’ They had run off before the last word left her lips. She turned to Mary, shaking her head. ‘What a pair of rogues.’
Mary’s blue eyes darkened and her mouth drooped at the corners. ‘Davey told us what happened to Grey, and although I didn’t really know him it made me cry a lot because he was your friend.’
Sarah gave her a hug. ‘Thank you, Mary. I’m glad you’ve forgiven me for putting Davey in danger. He was very brave and he saved Grey’s life.’
‘But he died anyway.’
‘Yes, but we did everything we could for him.’ She hesitated, not quite knowing how to broach the subject. ‘The undertakers were instructed to bring his coffin home . . .’
‘It’s in the parlour,’ Mary said hastily. ‘Me and the boys won’t go in there, but Davey says he’s spoken to the vicar about the funeral. I dunno what they arranged.’ She put the final peg on a small shirt and picked up the empty basket. ‘Come inside and I’ll make us a pot of tea. I expect you could do with one after travelling all the way from London.’
‘That sounds wonderful, and I’m sure our visitors would be most grateful.’
‘Who are they? It’s not Mrs Trigg, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t describe her as a kind lady.’
‘No, it’s not Mrs Trigg. It’s a gentleman called Mr Moorcroft and Mrs Arbuthnot, the lady who looked after me when I left the workhouse.’ Sarah followed Mary into the scullery. ‘They’ve come here to help us.’
‘We don’t need help now you’re here.’ Mary placed the empty washing basket on the draining board and went into the kitchen. ’Davey will be pleased to see you.’
‘Where is he?’ Sarah asked eagerly. The memory of his kiss had never been far from her thoughts since they parted in Dover, and her pulses raced at the mere mention of his name.