by Blythe Baker
“Why would he do such a thing?” Lord Ashton asked, though his words were more of a challenge than a genuine question. “What purpose would he have in killing a man who has been a family acquaintance for years?”
I faltered for a moment, not wanting to share Catherine’s secret romance with Mr. Matcham if it was unnecessary. However, I also couldn’t leave any room for doubt in the minds of the Beckinghams or their guests. They needed to believe Edward was guilty. Not only so the truth could be known, but so the Chess Master would award me my prize. It felt selfish to be thinking of such a thing when Edward was bleeding out on the grass and everyone was looking at me as though I might be mad, but I wanted the experience to at least help me on my quest to locate Jimmy and clear his name of wrongdoing.
“Edward was hoping to protect the family’s reputation,” I said rather cryptically.
“From what?” Lord Ashton asked. “Mr. Matcham was a scoundrel, but he had nothing to do with our family aside from living nearby.”
I shook my head. “That’s where you are wrong. Edward discovered a secret romance between Catherine and Mr. Matcham. He tried to ask Mr. Matcham to leave Catherine alone, but Mr. Matcham refused. So, fearing for the reputation of his sister and the family, he lured Mr. Matcham to the estate for the weekend and killed him in the night.”
Lady Ashton hung her head in quiet shame, but Lord Ashton seemed to grow larger. He rumbled like the sky before a storm. “That is absurd. Absolutely absurd. There is no proof of any of this.”
“There is a letter hidden in a box beneath Catherine’s mattress,” I said without hesitation. “It provides all the necessary proof of her connection to Mr. Matcham.”
“And what proof have you of Edward’s involvement, beyond your word?” Lord Ashton asked.
His disbelief stung. Even though I’d only lived with the Beckinghams for a short time, I had come to think of them as family, and I’d hoped they felt the same towards me. But it was clear, now that I was speaking out against Edward, where I fell in the family hierarchy.
I crossed the grass, and Lord Ashton stiffened, straightening his spine as though he was preparing to go toe-to-toe with me. When I walked past him, he deflated and turned. As I neared Edward, I slowed, still nervous he would regain consciousness and attempt to murder me, though it would have been far too late to save his reputation. Dr. Shaw glanced up at me as I approached, but his eyes were glazed over with focus. He was covered in blood up to his elbows, but he didn’t seem to mind. His dedication to his work was commendable, and I hoped he would forgive me for briefly suspecting him of murder.
“Step away and let Dr. Shaw do his work,” Lord Ashton commanded.
“I will not interfere,” I said as I reached down and dug through Edward’s back pocket. When I stood back up with the empty vial in my hands, everyone gasped.
“It’s true,” Vivian cried, shaking her head. “I cannot believe it.”
“No one can,” Mrs. Worthing said. “It is unthinkable. He seemed like such a good young man.”
“He was…is a good man,” Lord Ashton stumbled, the anger in his eyes replaced with disbelief.
Lady Ashton hadn’t moved from her spot in the grass and it looked as though she never would. I walked over and sat down next to her in the grass, carefully placing my arms around her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to her. I didn’t know exactly what I was apologizing for, but it felt necessary. Her life would never be the same. Her family had been unalterably changed in the space of a couple of days, and even though I hadn’t set the events in motion, it was at least partially because of me.
Lady Ashton said nothing as she reached out and squeezed my hand in hers. We stayed there on the grass until Edward was carried away under the doctor’s supervision, his parents trailing helplessly behind him.
16
After the weekend at Ridgewick Hall, I was more glad than ever to have a place of my own to return to. It allowed me plenty of quiet time to sit with my thoughts. And more than that, it ensured I didn’t have to return home with the Beckinghams.
I hadn’t dared venture over to Ashton House since returning to London, but Lady Ashton had sent me a letter, which Aseem delivered to me four days after I arrived home.
“A letter from your aunt, Miss Rose,” he said, stepping into the sitting room, one hand folded behind his back, the other clutching the thick cream envelope.
I practically jumped from my chair and ran towards him in my excitement. But once the letter was in my hand, fear took hold. What would she have to say to me? Though, I knew the Beckinghams were not truly my relatives, they had come to claim that role in my life. I would miss them dearly if they never wished to see me again, though I would understand if that was their preference. Finally, once I dismissed Aseem and took a few stabilizing breaths, I slid my finger beneath the seal and opened the letter.
Dearest Rose,
There are not words enough to apologize to you for the harm Edward attempted to cause you. I never imagined him capable of such cruelty. Everyone knows you are a clever girl, always watching and observing while everyone else is focused on their own dramas, and I suspect you know more about that weekend than you said at the time. For that I am grateful. Please know I will always regret my role in events. I am only glad no harm came to you.
I will try to come visit you soon.
Love always,
Aunt Eleanor
Though, it was comforting to know Lady Ashton didn’t blame me for what happened to Edward in Somerset—probably because she was dealing with her own guilt about knowing Edward had killed Mr. Matcham and attempting to cover it up rather than turn him in—I knew the same couldn’t be said of Lord Ashton. He had been hesitant to accept his son’s crimes even when faced with the evidence, and since I was the person to deliver the news, his anger had shifted towards me. I suspected that was the reason Lady Ashton said she would try to visit rather than inviting me over. I would not be a welcome face in their household for a considerable amount of time. I hadn’t had opportunity to speak with Catherine or Alice to gauge their displeasure with me, but I expected their affections to have cooled at least slightly.
The day after the letter arrived, it was confirmed that Edward was fully expected to survive his gunshot wound. Things had been uncertain for a few days, but now that his survival was almost guaranteed, I knew I would be expected to testify against him at trial. A mixture of relief and terror washed through me. On one hand, I was glad my cousin was not dead, if only so his family would not have to suffer so much. On the other hand, he had murdered one man and attempted to murder me, as well. I would have slept better those first weeks back in London had I been able to rest in the fact that Edward was gone. I wouldn’t have sat up in bed at night at every slight noise, wondering whether he had come to finish the job.
More than expecting Edward, however, I sat in eager expectation for the Chess Master. No matter how unconventional my method may have been, I did solve Mr. Matcham’s murder and reveal the killer, which meant I would be receiving my promised reward.
When I first opened the box the Chess Master had sent, I assumed he had found me because of my previous experience investigating murders. After the attention I had recently attracted when I solved the murder of the bartender at The Chesney Ballroom, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like the Chess Master to track me down. However, now that the situation had unfolded, I had come to believe the Chess Master chose me less because of my abilities and more because of my connection to Edward.
In his confession, Edward had told me of a mysterious man to whom he owed a great debt, the same man who had provided him with the poison to end Mr. Matcham’s life. I believed that to be the same man who contacted me. The mysterious man had betrayed Edward, pretending to help him by obtaining the poison, all the while ensuring I would be there to prove him guilty after the murder had taken place. It was clearly some terrible form of punishment for the money Edward still owed the criminal.<
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The box the Chess Master had left for me contained a pawn, and upon first receiving it, I’d taken it to be a symbol of the game I was stepping into, of the puzzle I would need to solve. Now I realized I should have taken the piece at face value. The Chess Master was assigning me a role in his game. I was to be nothing more than a pawn, a throwaway piece he could use to carry out his own plans. I hated being used as a tool, knowing I’d been tricked into carrying out his cruel “justice.”
I spent many nights wondering what would have happened if I’d turned down the Chess Master’s offer. Would Edward have been arrested? Would I still be dining twice per week at the Beckingham Estate, partaking in banter with Edward and listening to Alice’s excited prattle about whatever she’d done that day? It was hard to say. Achilles Prideaux had suggested I stay far away from whatever plans the Chess Master had in store for me, but I now wondered whether that ever would have been possible. In some ways, it felt like I would have ended up at Ridgewick Hall that weekend regardless.
17
Days turned to a week and a week into several without any word from the Chess Master. I wanted to reach out and contact him, to send him a message of some kind, but that was hardly possible. I could not contact a ghost. I thought, perhaps, he was simply waiting for confirmation that I had solved the murder, but when articles about Edward and Mr. Matcham began appearing in the papers and still there was no word, I worried. Had it all been a trick? Did the Chess Master have any information about Jimmy or had I been fooled and used for nothing?
Lady Ashton still hadn’t been to visit, though we’d written one another several times. I promised her I was staying busy, meeting with friends and remaining an active part of the London social scene—though, that was far from the truth. And she swore to me that the family was doing surprisingly well despite the circumstances. Catherine was finally coming out of her mourning for Mr. Matcham and Alice was showing a great deal of maturity in her response to the whole situation. I noticed Lady Ashton mentioned nothing of Lord Ashton in her letters, and I suspected that was because he was not dealing with things quite as well. Edward was the Beckinghams eldest child and their only son. He was meant to take over control of the family’s fortune and estates one day, as well as inheriting the title, when his father passed on. But that would not be possible now.
One day, just as I was thinking of heading out to run several errands in the city, there was a knock at my front door.
“Miss Catherine is here to see you,” Aseem said, walking into the sitting room ahead of my cousin, ushering her towards me, and then slipping silently away.
I stood up at once, my mouth hanging open in surprise. I didn’t even manage to greet her.
“Is this how you welcome guests to your home, cousin?” Catherine asked, a shy smile playing on her lips.
I shook my head and did my best to smile. “Forgive me, Catherine. You were the last person I expected to visit me.”
“I would have guessed my father would be the last person you’d expect to come here.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’ve expected your father to come and shout at me any day now. I know he must be very angry with me, and I’m sorry for that.”
Catherine crossed the small distance between us and wrapped her thin arms around my shoulders. “Do not apologize. You have done nothing wrong.”
I hugged her back, grateful for her kindness, and noticed how petite she felt. When she pulled back and looked down at me, I noticed the hollows of her cheeks looked deeper and there were shadows under her eyes. It was clear she was going through a difficult time, and I wondered whether it was because of her grief for Mr. Matcham or her brother. Perhaps, both.
“That is kind of you to say,” I said. “I can’t help but feel partly responsible for everything that is happening. I am the one who found Edward and had to deliver the news to everyone. I wouldn’t blame you if you harbored ill will towards me.”
Catherine shook her head, her golden hair glimmering in the light from the chandelier just above us. “Nonsense. No, Rose, you did nothing wrong. Edward tried to do to you what he did to my poor Thomas.”
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about that, as well. I know you were fond of Mr. Matcham.”
She swallowed back her emotions, sniffling slightly. “Yes, quite fond. Unfortunately, he was a very misunderstood man. He had his faults, of course.”
“Don’t we all?” I added quickly, to which Catherine smiled.
“Yes, absolutely. He was not a perfect man, but I, as I’m sure you already know, am hardly a perfect woman. Regardless of what Edward says, I believe Thomas loved me very much. We were planning to marry soon. Once we’d made all the proper announcements to our families, of course.” She looked down at the floor, her eyes losing focus, as though she were deep within a memory. Then, just as quickly, she pulled herself out of it and gave me a somber smile. “But plans change.”
I offered to let her stop and sit for a moment, but she declined.
“I’ll only be here a moment. Mother and father will be expecting me home soon. I just wanted to come and see you.”
“I’m so glad you did,” I said. “I have missed you.”
Catherine squeezed my fingers, and then her posture changed. She seemed to be making herself smaller, as though she didn’t want to be seen, which was very unlike Catherine. The entire time I’d known her, she swelled under the smallest bit of attention. She’d mentioned her own faults only a few moments before, and one of hers was vanity. Much like her brother felt certain he was the cleverest person in any room, Catherine was convinced she was the most beautiful. So, seeing her bow her head and stoop her shoulders was an unusual sight, to say the least.
“After everything you’ve been through these past few weeks, I hate to come and ask anything of you. Especially since this is the first time I’ve seen you since that dreadful weekend in the country,” Catherine said, puckering her face at the thought of our time in Somerset.
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “Ask me anything.”
Catherine took a deep breath, and then rushed through her next words as though she couldn’t say them fast enough. “I know Edward confessed his crimes to you, and I know he threatened to harm you, but I hope you know how absolutely out of his head he was that weekend. If he had been thinking clearly, I don’t believe he would have sought to do you any harm. You are family, after all. A most beloved cousin to all of us.”
I wanted to argue that I didn’t believe Edward would ever describe me as a most beloved cousin, but I was much too focused on what Catherine would say next.
“I just want you to consider your testimony against him,” she said, her eyes pinning me to the spot. She was staring at me as though she wanted to see through me, as though we could communicate via thoughts rather than words.
I nodded slowly. “I am considering it very carefully.”
This was true, though not what I suspected Catherine meant. Because my life had been threatened, part of me wanted to lay out everything to the courts. I wanted them to know how heartless Edward had been. How remorselessly he had talked about ending my life and how easy he believed it would be to convince everyone it had been an accident. Edward had revealed himself to be almost sociopathic However, there remained another part of me that wanted to protect my family from the cruelty of one of their own. I didn’t want them to hear the horrible things he’d said, how heartless he’d been. It could destroy them.
Catherine looked at me with a slight disappointment in her eyes. She didn’t think I understood what she meant, but I understood perfectly. She didn’t want me to testify.
“I just don’t want you to go through the trauma of reliving that day if you don’t think it would add anything to the case,” she said with a simple shrug, as if what she was suggesting had almost no importance.
“He killed your would-be husband,” I said. “You said yourself that he would have killed me.”
She shook her head. “Maybe. But
we can’t know that for certain.”
“He aimed and fired directly at me. The only reason I wasn’t struck is because I dove out of the way and ran,” I said, my frustration barely concealed. “He chased me halfway across the sprawling property. If he did not wish to kill me, then I cannot imagine what it is he planned to do with his weapon.”
Catherine took a step back, her lips tightening. “I know my brother.”
“And I know how it feels to be threatened with a deadly weapon,” I said. “This was my third time, and I’ve become closely acquainted with the signs. I am terribly sorry for the loss you and your family are going through. I understand how it feels to have a family member accused of a horrible crime. However, do not think for a moment that I will withhold the truth to spare the man who tried to kill me. He is my cousin, and I wish there could be another outcome, but I am afraid he has given me no choice. I hope you will all find it in your hearts to forgive me for doing what I must.”
Her eyes became hard and focused like marbles. “You’ve never had a person you care about convicted of murder,” she said quietly. “I realize what Edward has done, but he is my brother, and I do not wish to see him hang or spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
I realized then that I had slipped. Catherine knew nothing of my brother Jimmy, of the crime he had been accused. She couldn’t know any of that if she was to believe in me as Rose. So, rather than insist that I did understand exactly how she felt, I pinched my lips closed and nodded in agreement.
“But,” Catherine continued, already half-turned towards the door. “I also cannot deny you your justice. I only came to offer up my opinion. I hope you know that I will support whichever decision you make.”