The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales)

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘You taught me it was my duty to fight injustice, Papa, and Wolfgang would surely hang if he was brought to trial in Southwark.’ Her voice shook. ‘We both hated the fact that poor Henry’s murderer was hanged, imagine how much worse for it to happen to an innocent man, and I sincerely believe Wolf is innocent.’ She took his hands. ‘I could not in all conscience do other than help him, surely you must see that.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘I see a young woman who is very much in love.’

  Grace quickly looked away.

  ‘Do not say so, Papa.’

  ‘After Henry died you shut yourself off from the world, Grace. I am glad to see that you can love again, I only wish it was your fiancé and not Wolfgang Arrandale.’

  ‘I wish it, too, Papa.’ She put her head back on his knee. ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘We shall pray, my child. And you must not show yourself until your carriage has arrived. Then I will write a note to Loftus telling him you are home and inviting him to dinner tomorrow. By then who knows what might have occurred at Arrandale?’

  * * *

  Grace went up to her room to rest. As soon as she lay down on her bed exhaustion overcame her and she slept soundly until Betty came in, telling her it was time to change for dinner.

  ‘Have my trunks arrived?’ asked Grace, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Aye, miss, they have, and Mrs Graham and her maid with them. Such a to-do there was, Mrs Graham not knowing whether you was safe, but the master put her mind at rest and now she’s in the guest room, changing her gown, and Mrs Truscott’s fretting about dinner and worrying that the capon she’s got on the spit won’t stretch.’

  ‘I will go and talk to her. And I will arrange my own hair, Betty, so that you may be free to help in the kitchen. Now, have my luggage fetched upstairs and we will look out one of my new gowns to wear.’

  Grace marvelled at how easily she was slipping back into the role of keeping house for Papa. There was at least some comfort in that.

  * * *

  Dinner was excellent, as Grace had known it would be, and if she had no appetite it was nothing to do with the quality of the chicken, nor the boiled tongue and potato pudding that accompanied it. She did her best to eat the lemon jelly that was served with the second course, knowing Mrs Truscott had prepared it especially for her homecoming, but in truth she tasted nothing. She spent most of the dinner hour in silence while her aunt discussed with Papa the best way forward.

  ‘When Mr Wolfgang was clapped up Grace visited him every day,’ said Aunt Eliza, casting a reproachful glance across the table at her niece. ‘Perhaps you will say I should have stopped her, Titus, but I confess I do not know how I might have done so.’

  ‘My daughter was merely doing her Christian duty,’ murmured Papa and Grace threw him a grateful look.

  ‘But then, when I received her note, saying she was riding home and wanted her things sent on to you today I vow I could not sleep for worrying!’

  Grace said softly, ‘I am very sorry if I caused you anxiety, Aunt, but as you can see I am here, safe and sound.’

  ‘Yes, yes, but what if it gets out that you have been aiding and abetting a felon?’

  Grace sat up very straight. ‘Wolfgang Arrandale is an innocent man.’

  ‘I think we may be sure that Mr Arrandale will say nothing of my daughter’s involvement in his flight,’ said her father. ‘We must hold to our story, that she left London with you this morning. But let us hope that no one asks.’

  ‘I vow you are as bad as Grace,’ declared his sister with a little huff of exasperation. ‘After she lost her first fiancé we were all relieved when Loftus Braddenfield proposed.’ She glanced at her niece. ‘You will forgive me if I speak plainly, my love, but you are nearly five-and-twenty and unlikely to receive another offer. I very much fear all this has put the match in jeopardy.’

  ‘Let us wait until tomorrow and see what Sir Loftus says,’ replied Papa gently. ‘After all, he is a reasonable man.’

  ‘Not so reasonable that he will condone his fiancée careering around the country with a man,’ muttered Aunt Eliza. ‘Especially an Arrandale.’

  Grace said nothing, but she very much feared her aunt was right. To the weight of her own unhappiness was added the knowledge that she had disappointed her family. By the time they retired to the drawing room she was feeling very low and she excused herself, saying she was going out.

  ‘There is at least an hour’s daylight left and a little fresh air will clear my head. I am only going to the churchyard, Papa, but I think I shall go straight to bed afterwards, so I will say goodnight to you both now.’

  Grace went upstairs to fetch her cloak and found the maid turning out the trunks.

  ‘You should have left that for me, Betty, I am sure you have been rushed off your feet today.’

  ‘Nonsense, Miss Grace, it’s been a pleasure to put away all the new clothes you bought in London. Well now, I never expected to see this old gown again.’ She lifted out the yellow muslin. ‘You must have had it for at least four years.’

  ‘I had the hem repaired while I was in town,’ said Grace, trying not to sigh at the memory. ‘It was done by a lady who used to work up at the hall, you may remember her. Annie Meesden.’

  ‘Oooh, yes,’ said Betty, her face lighting up. ‘She was brutally done to death, wasn’t she? Mr Truscott read it in the master’s newspaper. It said Mr Wolfgang Arrandale had been taken up for it.’

  Grace did not know how to reply. She felt suddenly stifled by memories and her fears for Wolf. She needed to get out into the fresh air.

  ‘So she was reduced to taking in sewing, was she?’ said Betty, inspecting the gown. ‘Well, she did a good job on this, I must say.’ She frowned and peered closer at the muslin. ‘Hmm, she thought a lot of herself, sewing her mark into the hem.’

  ‘Yes, I saw that,’ murmured Grace, hunting around for her cloak.

  ‘But it’s not her initials, is it?’ Betty continued. ‘That would be “A.M”. And look, miss, she has embroidered “M.K. One-six, one-six”. I wonder why?’

  Grace barely glanced at the embroidery on the hem of the old gown. She did not want to think any more about the dresser, or murder. Or Wolf. At last she found her cloak and threw it around her shoulders as she hurried away.

  * * *

  Outside the house Grace took a deep, steadying breath. Even with a low blanket of cloud covering the sky it felt so much cleaner and fresher here than Hans Place, where the dust and dirt of the ongoing building work hung in the air. She walked briskly to the churchyard. Tomorrow she must see Loftus and explain everything, but tonight there was something equally important she must do, for the sake of her conscience.

  The flowers she had laid by Henry’s headstone before going to London looked withered and grey in the fading light.

  ‘I am sorry I have not brought fresh ones,’ she murmured, sinking to her knees. ‘And I am sorry for a great deal more.’ She gazed sadly at the ground. For five years she had thought her heart was buried here, with Henry. She knew that the innocent, girlish passion she had conceived for Henry Hodges was nothing to the love she now felt for the dark and brooding Wolf Arrandale.

  ‘But he is as lost to me as you are,’ she whispered, running her fingers over the rough lettering inscribed on the headstone. ‘More so, because he does not want me. And even if he did, I am promised to Loftus. All I can do is to pray that Wolf will prove his innocence. I want him to be happy, that must be enough for me.’

  There. She had made her peace with Henry. Grace blinked away the threatening tears, fixing her eyes on the final words engraved on the headstone.

  We are the children of God

  Rom 8:16

  She froze. The air in the graveyard was very still. Nothing moved, there was no sound. In her memory she was seeing again th
e delicately embroidered numbers and letters on the yellow gown.

  ‘It is not a seamstress’s mark at all,’ she muttered. ‘It is a biblical reference!’

  * * *

  Wolf was in no mood for family reunions. The sight of Richard and Cassandra, both deeply in love with their partners, only intensified the aching emptiness of his own life. After dinner he remained in the drawing room for barely half an hour before retiring, declaring he was too tired to stay awake.

  As he crossed the hall there was an urgent knocking at the door and he stepped into the shadows beneath the stairs. Had his pursuers caught up with him already? Croft opened the door and Wolf heard a familiar voice enquiring urgently for Mr Arrandale.

  ‘Grace?’ He strode forward and she ran past the astonished butler.

  ‘Thank heaven I have found you! I must tell you—’

  ‘Hush now, come into the library where we may talk privately.’

  He led her across the hall. The library was in a state of disorder, for Sophia had ordered the servants to examine every book in their search for the missing necklace. Two servants were still going through the shelves, but Wolf dismissed them and gently guided Grace to a chair beside the empty fireplace.

  ‘Have you run all the way here?’ He asked, kneeling before her and clasping her trembling fingers. ‘Let me get you something to drink.’

  ‘No, nothing, thank you.’ She was still out of breath, but he noted now that her eyes were gleaming with excitement and not distress. ‘I think, I am sure, Meesden left us a clue about the necklace. On the gown she repaired for me. Her landlady said she had been working on it when Urmston came to see her. It was neatly folded and left on the table with her Bible resting upon it. I think that in itself was a message.’

  ‘Go on.’ He watched her intently. Just seeing her lightened his heart.

  ‘She had embroidered “M.K. Sixteen, sixteen” on the hem of the gown. I took it for some sort of trademark, but now I am sure it is something quite different.’ Her fingers twisted and gripped his own. ‘It is a biblical reference,’ she explained. ‘Mark, Chapter Sixteen, Verse Sixteen.’

  ‘And do you know what it is?’

  She shook her head. ‘I am not familiar with that text.’

  ‘And you a parson’s daughter.’

  * * *

  Grace heard his teasing tone, saw the glint of amusement in his eyes and for the first time that day she felt like smiling. ‘Surely the Arrandales are not so degenerate that they do not own a Bible.’

  ‘Aye, of course we do!’ He rose and looked around the room. ‘The thing is, where to find it...’ He grabbed one of the branched candlesticks from the mantelshelf and strode across to the desk, where several large leather-bound books had been piled up. ‘Here it is... What was the reference again?’ Quickly he turned to the pages. ‘Mark... Mark... Chapter Sixteen, Verse Sixteen: “He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned”.’

  Grace had jumped up to join him, but as she listened her excitement faded.

  ‘Oh, dear. That is no use at all.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ said Wolf, with an intense look that sent her heart skittering. ‘Baptism. She’s telling us the diamonds are in the font.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come along.’

  Chapter Twelve

  They headed for the chapel, Wolf carrying a lantern to light their way through the heavy darkness that had descended. Grace pulled her cloak more tightly about her while he unlocked the chapel door and she followed him inside. The lantern threw grotesque shadows against the pale walls and she kept close to Wolf, resisting the temptation to clutch at the skirts of his coat. She took the lantern so he could use two hands to lift off the ornately carved wooden lid from the font and she peered in eagerly.

  It was dry and empty.

  Wolf lowered the heavy cover to the ground and ran his fingers around the rough grey stone of the basin as if he did not believe his eyes.

  ‘It has been ten years,’ she said gently. ‘Perhaps someone took it.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  He would not give up. Not yet. There were candles on nearby pricket stands, dusty with age, but once they were lighted he carried them closer and inspected the old stone font, looking for possible hiding places.

  ‘My great-aunt said the chapel had already been searched, so if the diamonds are here they will not be easily found.’

  He bent to inspect the base of the font. There was not so much as a crack where anything might be secreted. The cover itself looked more promising, but there was nothing hidden amongst the intricate carvings of fruit, flowers and cherubs.

  ‘Nothing.’ He picked up the cover to put it back on the font, twisting it to give a cursory glance to the base as he did so.

  ‘Wolf!’

  He had already seen it. The bottom of the cover had warped badly and split, providing a narrow pocket that stretched across the base. Carefully he reached in with a finger and thumb and tugged at the material tucked inside. It fell into his palm, weighted by something wrapped in its discoloured folds.

  ‘Wolf, is it...?’ Grace held up the lantern as he gently unfolded the linen.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice not quite steady. ‘It’s the Sawston necklace.’

  Grace reached out. He expected her to touch the diamonds twinkling on his hand, but instead she lifted a corner of the wrapping. It was a handkerchief with initials embroidered on the edge. The same letters and flourishing style he remembered seeing on Urmston’s perfume-soaked handkerchief. From the other side of the font Grace was smiling, hope shining in her eyes.

  ‘Do you still not believe in miracles? We can surely prove your innocence now.’

  We. It was like a shaft of sunlight on a stormy day and it warmed his soul.

  * * *

  ‘I will take that.’

  The words echoed around the darkened church. Urmston was standing just inside the door, the light glinting from the barrel of a pistol in his hand.

  ‘I think not,’ drawled Wolf, ignoring the weapon aimed at his heart. ‘The diamonds are wrapped in your handkerchief. What more proof do we need that you stole them?’

  ‘You are not a fool, Arrandale. You know I will not let you leave here alive.’

  ‘Then you must kill us both,’ declared Grace. ‘I will not let you get away with murder.’

  Urmston stepped a little further into the chapel.

  ‘Brave words, my dear, but that is precisely my intention. Only I shall say that Wolfgang killed you, before I shot him. I have already informed the magistrate that the fugitive is here.’

  Wolf’s brain was racing. The lighted candles made him and Grace easy targets. He needed to catch Urmston off guard if he was to wrestle that pistol from him, so he must keep him talking and look for his chance.

  ‘So you admit you took the diamonds?’ he said, playing for time.

  ‘I did, but I put them back.’

  ‘Of course.’ Wolf nodded. ‘You did not need to sell them, did you, once you had Thriplow’s money.’

  ‘The young fool was ripe for the plucking. When I came back from Newmarket I hid the necklace in Florence’s room, behind the loose brick where she used to keep the key to her jewel box. Didn’t want the diamonds turning up again too soon. I wanted everyone to think you a thief as well as a murderer. Once you were hanged I would make sure they were discovered and returned to the Sawstons. After all I shall inherit them, eventually.’

  ‘Ingenious,’ said Wolf. ‘Tell me, Charles, were you and Florence lovers?’

  Urmston’s lip curled. ‘Once she was with child she considered she had fulfilled her duty to you. We bribed Meesden to keep quiet, but although she disliked me she positively hated you for marrying her beloved mistress, and once she had begun taking money for
her silence she was unable to say anything at all.’

  Wolf had guessed as much and was surprised how little it mattered to him now.

  He said, ‘So the night she died, Florence quarrelled with me deliberately, to leave the way clear for you.’

  ‘She did. That temper of yours made it surprisingly easy for us, Arrandale. Florence had given me a key to the servants’ door. I went outside to enjoy a cigarillo, then up the backstairs to join her. If anyone missed me I could say I had been wandering in the gardens.’

  ‘And you took the necklace.’

  ‘It is mine by right,’ snapped Urmston. ‘I was Sawston’s heir, not Florence. Why should I not have it? I needed the money. She laughed when I asked her for it, so I had to take it. She fought like a wildcat, followed me to the landing and tried to scratch out my eyes, so I—’ He stopped, a look of anguish contorting his florid features. ‘I pushed her away. She fell against the balcony rail and overbalanced. It was an accident. An accident. Then you came in, Arrandale. It was too good an opportunity to miss. I left the way I had come. By the time I was back in the drawing room everything was confusion. I rushed into the hall where you were kneeling over Florence. It was easy to suggest that you had killed her and to persuade your father to get you out of the country. He was glad to see the back of you.’

  Wolf’s jaw tightened. He could not deny it. He had reminded the old man too much of himself. He looked at the pistol pointed at his chest. Perhaps he deserved this ending. For one black moment he could think of nothing to say to prolong the conversation.

  ‘And what of the necklace,’ said Grace. ‘Where was that?’

  ‘Safe in my pocket. Meesden’s shock when she discovered it was missing was quite genuine, but by that time Wolfgang was gone and everyone thought he had taken it.’

  ‘Of course,’ snarled Wolf. ‘After all, if I would kill my wife I would hardly balk at stealing the diamonds.’

  ‘Quite.’

  Wolf’s sharp ears had picked up a faint noise. Thunder, or horses galloping through the park. If Braddenfield and his men had arrived they would see the light in the chapel.