'You'd be too young to understand the implications when the Earl of Yardley lost the Abbey to Sywell,' Mrs Westcott told her. 'That was the start of the trouble.'
'But I do remember something about it, Mother. We children sang silly songs about it at the time. Did not the Earl of Yardley lose the Abbey in a gambling session? Then he blew his brains out?'
'It was a tragedy, Gina. The Earl had had a serious quarrel with his son. Something about the Viscount's wish to marry a French Catholic, I believe. His father cut him off, but when Lord Rupert was reported killed in Paris the Earl was distraught. He almost drank himself insensible whilst gambling. In the end he lost everything to Sywell, and then he killed himself.' Mrs Westcott shuddered. 'He could not have imagined what we would get in his place.'
'I don't know much about Sywell,' Gina admitted. 'He is not seen in Abbot Quincey...'
'He durst not show his face,' Julia told her. 'For years he and his cronies regarded the village girls as fair game. Orgies were the least of it. He has ruined not only the girls, but also some of the tradesmen. He does not settle his accounts, and no one will deliver to the Abbey now, and none of the villagers will work there.'
'So how does he manage to live?'
'One man has stayed with him. His name is Burneck. He is some kind of valet cum general servant. Occasionally he hires domestics in town, but they don't stay long.'
'And yet the Marquis married?' Gina said in wonder. 'The girl was very young, so I understand...'
'She was little more than a child, my dear. Heaven knows what pressure was brought to bear upon her to cause her to accept that monster. Now she has disappeared.'
'I shouldn't be the least surprised if the Marquis has done away with her,' Alice insisted. 'He's capable of anything.'
'But not of murder, surely?' Gina was shocked.
'Why not? I can't think of a crime which cannot be laid at his door.'
'She may have found her life intolerable. Perhaps she ran away...?'
'Perhaps!' Alice was unwilling to give up her belief in the ultimate perfidy. 'How 1 wish that the man would sell the Abbey and move elsewhere!'
'The Earl of Yardley has tried to buy back the Abbey,' Mrs Westcott told her. 'It would be a great relief to all of us to have the original family back again.'
'But Sywell will not sell?'
'No, Gina. He takes a perverse pleasure in taunting the Earl.'
'But I thought that Yardley killed himself?'
'The present Earl is a relative. He made his fortune in India and purchased land from his cousin, the Earl of Yardley. With Yardley and Lord Rupert dead, he inherited the title.'
'If Sywell is in debt, he may change his mind.'
'I doubt it. Sywell would cut off his nose to spite his face for the opportunity of doing an injury to one of his erstwhile friends.'
'He sounds delightful!' Gina said drily. 'Let us not lose hope! Someone may decide to remove him from the face of the earth...'
Her remark was made half in jest, but within a week her wish was granted.
Gina was in the garden, leafing through a book of poems by Robert Southey, when her visitors were announced.
Her heart was in a turmoil as Giles strode across the lawn towards her. His visit was unexpected, and she could think of no reason for it, but it was more than welcome. Her good resolutions vanished like snow in summer as she rose to her feet and held out both her hands.
He took them swiftly. 'There's been another murder,' he said without preamble. 'Sywell was found dead this morning.'
'The Marquis? Is this the work of the Luddites, Giles?'
'I doubt it. Sywell was no threat to them. He owned no factories, and had no interest in the introduction of new machinery.'
'How was he killed?'
'Stabbed through the heart, but his valet found no sign of an intruder.'
'I'm not surprised. The Abbey is a warren of passages and hiding places.' Gina thought for a moment. 'It must have been someone who knew the place, and how to reach Sywell's rooms. A casual thief would find that difficult.'
'There's sure to be a serious investigation,' Giles continued. 'The Runners have been summoned, but if I'm not mistaken the Regent will wish his own men to take charge. The murder of a peer of the realm cannot be ignored.'
Thomas Newby intervened. 'I don't see why not,' he objected. 'The fellow was a monster.'
'Even so, the Regent will consider it an unfortunate precedent. Allow the murder of a member of the aristocracy to go unpunished, and our unfortunate Prince may be the next victim. He's one of the most unpopular men in England.'
Neither of his companions was prepared to argue with this statement.
'So many people hated Sywell.' Gina mused. 'One might as well look for a particular straw in a haystack.'
'His widow is a favourite candidate,' Giles told her grimly. 'She will inherit the Abbey...'
'And a mountain of debt,' Gina objected. 'Besides, she hasn't been seen for months...'
'She may not have gone far. If she planned the murder she would lie low, awaiting a suitable opportunity. She would know the Abbey well, you must agree.'
'But women don't often resort to stabbing, Giles. In the first place it requires great physical strength to overpower a man, unless she attacked him whilst he was sleeping. I'm told that the Marchioness was a slender, gentle creature. I doubt if she would be capable of violence.'
'We can't know what her life was like before she left the Marquis. She may have been driven to desperation.'
'That's more than likely,' Thomas agreed. 'We all knew Sywell's reputation, but I agree with Lady Whitelaw. Poison is more of a woman's weapon.'
'Thank you, Mr Newby!' Gina's tone was dry. 'I see that you think highly of us as a sex.'
'I do, ma'am, as you know!' He gave her a look of such blatant adoration that Gina was nonplussed. Irony, she decided, was quite lost on Thomas.
'There must be other suspects,' she suggested. 'The fathers and brothers of the girls the Marquis, ruined must be high on the list, and some of his bastards too will be old enough to take revenge...'
She heard a gasp from Thomas, and guessed correctly that he was unused to such plain speaking from a woman.
'It could be one of Sywell's gambling cronies,' he said hastily. 'He's thought to have ruined many a man and not always by fair means...'
Giles had been silent for some time. 'There is always Burneck himself, of course,' he said at last. 'What better way to hide his guilt than to raise the alarm and set the countryside by the ears...?'
'I can't believe that,' Gina objected. 'Burneck has stayed by his master's side all these years. Why should he resort to murder now?'
'There could be a number of reasons...perhaps a promised legacy withdrawn, or something of that sort.'
'Possibly!' Gina was unconvinced. 'You still think that the Luddites are not to blame?' She had kept up a brave face, but the strain of this latest news was beginning to tell, and she had grown pale. She sat down in the nearest chair and hid her shaking hands within her skirts.
Giles was beside her in an instant. 'My dear, I have been thoughtless,' he said tenderly. 'I should not have troubled you with this dreadful story.'
Gina shook her head. The solicitude in his voice brought her close to tears, but she blinked them away.
'I'm glad you let me know,' she whispered. 'It is just that... Oh, Giles, there has been so much violence in these past few weeks. First the murder of Isham's half-brother at the Grange, and the riots. Then the assassination of the Prime Minister, and now this... Are we on the verge of revolution? It happened in France not twenty years ago.'
'It couldn't happen here,' Thomas said with conviction.
'Don't be too sure,' she murmured. 'Are we too squeamish a nation to rely on the headsman's axe? We executed our own king, if I recall.'
Giles slipped a comforting arm about her shoulders. 'Do you trust Isham, Gina?'
She nodded wordlessly.
'Then com
e back to the Grange with us. Talk to him. The Government keeps him up to date with all the latest news. He is convinced that there will be no revolution here. This murder is a local tragedy. He is sure of it.'
Gina allowed herself to be persuaded into visiting the Grange, ostensibly to be reassured by Isham. In reality, she was conscious of a very feminine need to cling to Giles for support. It was ridiculous, she told herself sharply. What had happened to the strong-willed Gina Westcott, with her ability to handle any situation? The character of that iron lady seemed to have changed beyond recognition.
She had expected to find India in a similar state of shock, but to her surprise her friend looked perfectly serene.
India glanced at Gina's troubled face and hurried to embrace her. 'Come and sit down,' she said gently. 'This murder is a dreadful thing, my dear, but Anthony is convinced that it is the result of some private feud.'
Isham himself confirmed her words. 'There is no talk of general insurrection, Gina, but if you are still worried why not bring the girls and stay with us?'
His wife gave him a smile of thanks. 'That might be best. We have room and to spare now that my mother and Letty are gone to London. Lucia, Anthony's step-mama, went with them.'
Gina recovered some of her composure. 'You are very kind,' she said quietly. 'But I couldn't think of it. I don't know why I've allowed the news of the murder to upset me so. I didn't even know the Marquis, but I seem to be on edge these days.'
Isham could have made a shrewd guess as to the reason but he let it pass. At the sound of carriage wheels he strolled over to the window.
'It seems we have a visitor,' he announced. 'Giles, is this anyone you know?' He was unprepared for his brother-in-law's reaction.
'Great heavens!' Giles had stiffened. 'As I live and breathe! It's Mrs Clewes!'
Chapter Eleven
As their visitor was announced, five pairs of eyes focused upon her in astonishment.
Mrs Clewes was an amazing sight. She was very short and almost as wide as she was tall. In an effort to add inches to her stature she sported an aigrette-topped turban in a particularly violent shade of blue. This clashed in the most painful way with the gown which could be glimpsed beneath her travelling cloak.
It was clear that the lady made no concession to the present fashion for simple Grecian styles. Panniers held out her voluminous skirts, beneath which could be seen an ancient pair of carpet slippers.
At first it seemed unlikely that she would manage to negotiate the doorway, but with the ease born of long practice she turned sideways, swept into the room, and waddled towards the waiting company.
Isham was the first to recover his sang-froid. With his customary courtesy he moved towards his guest.
'Welcome, ma'am!' he bowed. 'It is Mrs Clewes, is it not?'
'It is!' Mrs Clewes was perfectly at ease. 'You'll be Isham, I expect, and Letty's brother-in-law?'
Isham bowed again. 'May I present my wife, and Lady Whitelaw, who is a friend of ours. This is Mr Thomas Newby, and Giles you already know.'
'Aye! He's the lad I've come to find. How do you go on, my dear?'
Giles came towards her then and took her outstretched hands, smiling as he did so.
'Ma'am, I am well,' he said. 'No need to ask how you go on. You are the picture of health...'
'Flatterer! I expect you must be wondering why I'm here?'
'Before you tell us, Mrs Clewes, will you not take a comfortable chair?' Isham led her forward. 'You must have found your journey tiring. Allow me to offer you some refreshment...' He rang the bell.
'I won't deny I'll be glad to take the weight off my feet, my lord.' Mrs Clewes settled herself with a gusty sigh. 'I ain't as young as I used to be.'
'And what is your pleasure, ma'am? Some wine, perhaps?'
It was at this point that Giles intervened. 'Mrs Clewes believes a glass of "flesh and blood" to be the best restorative,' he said solemnly.
'Then "flesh and blood'' it is. Tibbs, will you see to it?'
'Certainly, my lord.' Tibbs did not betray his astonishment by the flicker of an eyelid, nor did he need to ask the nature of this tipple. It was a favourite of his own, though to his knowledge it had not been served before in the salon at the Grange.
'Well now, I won't take up your time,' Mrs Clewes announced. 'I came to have a word with Mr Rushford here.'
'A private word, ma'am? If so, may I offer you my study?'
'Not unless Giles insists, my lord. I have a bone to pick with him, you know.'
Giles had suspected something of the kind. Mrs Clewes had greeted him kindly enough, but it was possible that she had been mortally offended by his refusal to take her name.
'You may say anything to me in front of my family,' he told her. 'Believe me, ma'am, when I wrote to you I had no intention of insulting you.'
A crackle of amusement greeted his words. 'It would take a better man than you to do that, my lad.' Mrs Clewes sipped at her drink with great appreciation. 'I didn't expect you to accept. At least, I hoped you wouldn't.'
Giles stared at her.
'Surprised? I can see you are. You passed the test, my dear. Stiff-necked you may be, but you ain't a hypocrite...'
'I'm afraid I don't follow you, ma'am.'
'Dear me! What an innocent it is! Did it not strike you as strange that I should offer to make you my heir when Leah's children have first call upon my purse?'
'You refer to Lady Wells?'
'She is my niece, Giles, though she don't care to acknowledge it. Still, I suppose that we've all got skeletons in the cupboard.'
The thought of regarding Mrs Clewes as a skeleton tried the composure of her listeners sorely, but no one smiled.
'Then why did you make me such an offer, ma'am?'
'Well, I'll tell you. First of all, I ain't accustomed to being treated like a lady, and you was always kind to me. I'm something of a judge of men, but for all I knew you could have had an eye to the main chance.'
Giles stiffened.
'Now, my lad, don't get upon your high ropes! You wouldn't be the first as has tried to take me in.'
'I'm sure that you are not easily deceived, Mrs Clewes...' Giles could not hide his anger.
'No, I'm not, but I had to be sure...'
'For what reason, ma'am?' India was intrigued.
'Why, my dear, this brother of yours has a fortune in his hands, if he would but make use of it.'
'You are mistaken, madam. I have nothing.'
'And whose fault is that, you stubborn creature? It's high time that you set about making use of these inventions of yours. I've spoken to my man of business and he agrees with me.'
'You are interested in farming methods, Mrs Clewes?' Isham was beginning to enjoy himself.
'Not a bit of it, my lord, but I'm interested in making money. Clewes was my third, and he left me comfortable, but I don't turn up my nose when I see the chance of a profit.'
'Your third?' India was bewildered.
'My third husband, My Lady. I've buried three by now. The first two were no fools but Clewes was a ship's chandler at Bristol. He taught me to use my head.'
'I have no doubt of that,' Isham smiled at her. 'How can Giles help you, ma'am?'
'I want him to be my partner. I can afford to back him for a start and then we'll share the profits. The books won't be no trouble to me. I'll see he don't get into queer street.'
Isham forebore to mention that he had already offered to help Giles. He awaited the outcome of this latest suggestion with interest. If he were any judge the redoubtable Mrs Clewes would have her way no matter what the opposition from her unwilling partner.
Incensed, Giles was about to refuse the offer outright. Then, as he looked at the dumpy little figure looking so out of place in the splendid salon he saw that her bright blue eyes were pleading with him.
'Are we not friends?' she said. 'We deal so well together, you and I. We'll be good partners...'
He swallowed his pride. 'You don't un
derstand, I fear, my dear ma'am. There may be no profits. I should not care to be the cause of you suffering heavy losses.'
'Nay, lad, I'm not a fool. I've gone into the matter, and I've brought some papers with me. You'll look at them, at least? Who knows, with the cost of living rising as it does, this may be my chance to enjoy a comfortable old age...'
Mrs Clewes assumed a mournful expression and seemed to shrink into her chair...the picture of an elderly lady on the verge of poverty.
Isham hid a smile. It was a masterful performance. He was beginning to understand why other offers of help had failed. Giles would not accept them on his own behalf, but when asked to be of service to another human being he might yet be persuaded to agree.
'Allow me to send refreshment into the study for you,' he begged. 'You will both wish to study these papers at your leisure.'
Mrs Clewes struggled out of her chair. 'Give me your arm,' she said to Giles. 'If nothing else you can tell me all your news.'
To refuse her would have been out of the question and with a rueful smile Giles led her from the room.
'Good heavens, what a character!' India was stunned. 'Gina, what do. you think of her?'
'I think her a very clever woman. If I'm not mistaken she will twist Giles round her little finger.'
'Nothing is more certain,' Isham agreed. 'And high time too. Newby, has Giles said nothing to you about his friendship with Mrs Clewes?'
'He told me that they played cards together.' Thomas was still in a state of shock. 'But they played for pennies. He had no idea at the time that she had a handsome fortune.'
'Perhaps she is not so very wealthy,' India offered. 'She seemed concerned about her future.'
'A subterfuge, my love. You did not see her carriage or her horses. They are the finest that money can buy.'
'And didn't you notice her necklace, India? I've seen rubies such as those in India. They are worth a king's ransom.' Gina was in a torment, hoping against hope that Giles would seize this opportunity so readily offered to him. She would have given much to have heard the discussion taking place at that very moment in the study.
It lasted for more than an hour, but when Mrs Clewes and Giles rejoined them she knew at once that they had reached agreement.
Mr Rushford's Honour Page 15