Julia yawned. “I do not think Father would have arranged for Elissa to come here if he did not have several ideas, even if we do not know them yet. As for Maria, she is here, is she not?”
“Yes, I am,” said Maria.
“It is pleasant to have a grandchild in the house,” said Lady Bertram. “Oh, that reminds me!” she exclaimed, and she told the other ladies that she had spoken with Cook about the bread and plain cake and had arranged for a plate of it to be available for her in the kitchen if she or anyone else became hungry during the night. Then she informed everyone that Pug was a grandmother as well; she had received a note from a friend, Mrs. Otway, telling her how one of Pug’s daughters had just given birth, and wanted to know if Lady Bertram could suggest possible owners for the new puppies.
“Perhaps the new Mrs. Maddox, if she is agreeable, would like a pup,” suggested Maria.
“Or Mrs. Grant, if she is not too busy,” said Julia.
Susan, fatigued from caring for Elissa, was content to sit in silence while the other ladies chatted. Her respite was short, for Mr. John Yates soon appeared in the drawing-room and informed her that her uncle wished to speak with her.
Susan went to her uncle’s study, expecting to report on Tom and Elissa. But Sir Thomas did not dwell on his son and his granddaughter; he had another matter to discuss.
“Mr. Yates brought a letter from his father. Perhaps you would read it, Susan. Read it aloud, please; I need to be certain I know every word.”
Susan took the letter, repositioned several candles, and read the correspondence from Lord Dexthorpe. The bereaved father did not express sorrow but anger. How could Sir Thomas have allowed his son to be murdered? Why had the baronet not discovered and punished the criminal? Despite the alliance of their children, the baron was most dissatisfied and would make trouble for Sir Thomas’s business affairs unless certain steps were taken.
Susan put down the letter – the extravagance of expression reminded her of Mr. John Yates – but the contents had the potential to be serious. “The baron holds you responsible for what happened to his son.”
“Yes. And, as I am master of Mansfield Park, I am morally if not legally responsible.”
Susan asked several questions. The threats were vague; did her uncle think Lord Dexthorpe could actually do anything? Sir Thomas said that the baron did have the ability to take several actions that would seriously injure his income, and hence create difficulties for everyone at Mansfield Park. The plantation in Antigua was at risk, as well as several trading arrangements. “There is no guarantee that he will take these actions, but he has the ability, and from what Mr. John Yates just told me, the resolution. Over the years, Lord Dexthorpe has ruined at least two other families because of his anger with them.”
A cruel man, thought Susan, and wondered if Mr. George Yates had inherited this tendency from his father. Aloud she said: “But you have been making inquiries, Uncle! What more does the baron expect you to do?”
Sir Thomas said that the expectations were not just in the letter from the baron, but had been conveyed to him by Mr. John Yates. Mr. Yates had been most troubled by the additional communication he had been compelled to make, as it placed him between his father and his father-in-law. However, refusing to tell his father-in-law of his father’s suspicions would not alter them, and warning Sir Thomas would give him the ability to take all possible precautions.
“What suspicions?” asked Susan.
Lord Dexthorpe believed Sir Thomas was hiding the truth because his own eldest son, Mr. Bertram, was the murderer.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sir Thomas told Susan of the case against Tom – the reasons for the baron’s suspicions – with far more concision than had been employed by Mr. John Yates. First, given what had happened, the killer had to be a man. Second, it seemed unlikely, that in the space of only two days, that anyone could have developed such a hatred of Mr. George Yates that he would make the effort to murder him. Only two men at Mansfield Park had been acquainted with Mr. George Yates before his arrival; those men were Tom Bertram and Mr. John Yates. Lord Dexthorpe was certain, from his knowledge of his younger son, that he had not killed his elder brother; besides, Mr. John Yates had an alibi in Mrs. John Yates. Third, Tom was strong enough to kill Mr. Yates and to move the body, and had the ability to saddle the horse that had returned to Rushworth. Fourth, Lord Dexthorpe was aware that Mr. Bertram had lost a considerable sum to his elder son in the past. If Tom had owed Mr. Yates money, then he would have had motive for murder.
Even though Susan had had some of these thoughts herself, she protested that it could not be true, that Tom could not have gambled, but she and her uncle agreed that the letter from Mr. Crawford indicated that it was at least possible. And then Susan recalled another point that seemed to confirm the baron’s assertion. The previous winter, Tom had gone to London but had come back to Mansfield Park several weeks earlier than expected. He had claimed that he had not been feeling well – Tom had once suffered a serious illness and had learnt to be careful – but what if Tom had come home in order to avoid paying his debts to Mr. Yates?
Sir Thomas recalled his son’s return back in January. Distressed by their conversation, he rose and walked to the window. After a minute he found his voice. He hoped, he hoped, that Lord Dexthorpe’s assertions were not true, because if they were, it meant that Tom had broken his word and had lied about it afterwards. The baronet turned back from the window. “But guilt even in one’s own family must be faced.”
Susan sensed that the possibility of Tom’s not keeping his word to his father distressed Sir Thomas more than the possibility of Tom’s being a killer; however, she was certain that the baron’s priorities would be different. She listened to her uncle’s speech, and made a suggestion. Was not the case against Mr. John Yates just as robust? His motive, to become the eldest son, would be just as strong, and Julia could have been asleep while her husband was out of their room.
“Or she could be lying to protect him,” said Sir Thomas, and Susan could tell that this alternative was a little better, because it meant his daughter, and not his son and heir, was deceitful. The baronet agreed that Mr. John Yates might have the physical ability to murder his elder brother, and material motive to do so, but he apparently had had no opportunity to commit the deed. Mr. John Yates had quitted the billiards game earlier than the other men in order to go upstairs to his wife, a move corroborated by Tom, who had reported earlier that Mr. John Yates had ceased playing at billiards for a good three quarters of an hour before he and Mr. George Yates had left the room, by Susan, who had seen Mr. John Yates go upstairs, and by Julia, whom he had joined in their chamber. Sir Thomas said that perhaps it was not impossible for Mr. John Yates to have left his bed chamber to go to the stables to murder his brother – but why? If John Yates wished to kill his brother, why would he choose to perform the act at Mansfield Park? (Susan could tell that her uncle thought that Mr. John Yates could never be so inconsiderate.) Sir Thomas could perceive no urgency in Mr. John Yates’s situation, whereas Tom’s position was potentially more acute. And, as Julia had reminded them, Mr. John Yates was not a man who suppressed his feelings; if he were guilty, someone would have noticed. Alas, Sir Thomas had to accept the possibility that his own eldest son, his firstborn, his namesake, was the most likely person at Mansfield Park to have murdered Mr. George Yates.
Susan was horrified and struggled to keep her composure as she considered her uncle’s reasoning – with which, alas, she could find no fault; much of it had occurred to her before. She asked Sir Thomas what assistance he required from her.
“Of course, I do not want Tom to be a murderer, so if anything occurs to you, any avenue that will convince Lord Dexthorpe of Tom’s innocence or of another’s guilt, then let me know.” Susan promised to do her utmost, and asked her uncle how he would proceed.
“I will allow Tom this evening with his daughter. I
do not wish to disturb that. But tomorrow I must question him.” Sir Thomas then thanked his niece for listening and for her support in all the difficulties that were paramount at Mansfield Park.
Susan departed from her uncle’s room, and as he had asked her not to reveal anything, decided not to return to the drawing-room where she could be assailed by the inquiries of her relatives. She rather envied them and their lack of knowledge and recalled Gray’s, “Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise.” Despite her fatigue, that night she slept little, as she worried about the burdens on Sir Thomas, the threats of Lord Dexthorpe against Mansfield Park, and most of all, the terrible suspicions that were about to befall her cousin Tom.
Tom learned of the accusations soon enough. Susan was not present at the interview – Sir Thomas had a tête-à-tête with his son – and yet afterwards somehow everyone at Mansfield Park knew exactly what had been said. Sir Thomas wanted to know if Tom had broken his word and had gambled during the previous winter with Mr. George Yates, and if he had owed Mr. Yates money. Tom at first denied this. Sir Thomas told his son about the letter from Mr. Crawford and asked if him he wished to remain with his story. At this Tom became indignant, for why would his own father believe Mr. Crawford, the man who had led Maria to her ruin, over his own son? Sir Thomas repeated the question a third time. Tom said he recollected encountering Mr. George Yates at the theatre, and that Yates had invited him to a game, but that he had refused. Sir Thomas pressed him, repeating that Mr. Crawford had it on good authority – several others, including Mr. Rushworth, had been present – and so the details could come out. At this point Tom conceded that he had played, and that he had, indeed, lost money to Mr. George Yates.
Sir Thomas was angry. “You broke your promise, and, what is worse, you lied to me about it.”
Tom said that he was ashamed that he had broken his promise, and so he had paid the money to Mr. Yates and had departed from London the following morning, returning to Mansfield Park so that he would not succumb to further temptation.
“You paid the money to Mr. Yates before you left London? He did not come to Mansfield Park in order to collect from you?” inquired the baronet.
Tom averred that he had paid his debt before his departure, and that Yates had not been at Mansfield Park to collect from him – although Yates had attempted to persuade him to wager more money during his visit. The baronet, however, was not convinced. “Why should I believe you, when you have just demonstrated you are willing to lie to me? How can I have confidence in your word?”
Tom reddened but repeated that he was telling his father the truth. Sir Thomas demanded to know exactly how much money his son had lost to Mr. Yates the previous winter; Tom hesitated, then named a significant sum.
“And you paid the entire amount to Mr. Yates before you departed from London?”
Tom repeated that he had, and in fact it was in consequence of suddenly being without funds that had necessitated his abrupt return home the previous winter.
The baronet shook his head. He then explained what others, especially others with influence, might believe. That Tom had lost more than he claimed to Mr. George Yates; that Mr. Yates had arrived at Mansfield Park to collect the remainder from Tom; and that, in order to avoid paying the amount, Tom had killed Mr. Yates. Sir Thomas then told his eldest son what he had explained to his niece the previous evening: that he was the only man – other than Mr. John Yates, whose time could be accounted for – who had been at all acquainted with Mr. George Yates before his arrival at Mansfield Park. Tom had been with Mr. Yates for most of the evening. And to Tom it would be easy to ascribe a motive.
Tom spoke with warmth. “I repeat, sir, that I owed Yates no money; I paid my debt in full last winter. As for the other motive, to conceal my broken promise and my loss from you, let me say that I value your good opinion, but not so much that I would kill a man rather than confess a wager.”
The speech moved the baronet. “I wish to believe you, but given everything else—. Is there any way to prove what you maintain? Some other witness, whom Lord Dexthorpe would accept as impartial?”
Tom, calmer, said several others had been with him and Mr. Yates at cards back in London. He was not sure how to locate all of them, but one of the men had been Mr. Rushworth. “He may not remember the amount that I paid Yates, but he should be able to confirm what I have told you, especially that I left the game early, after I decided that I had given away too much.”
Sir Thomas was somewhat appeased. “Perhaps we have a means of determining the truth. I hope it will clear you, Tom, although Mansfield Park will not be secure until we discover who murdered Mr. Yates.” The baronet said he would sent a message to Sotherton to ask Mr. Rushworth for information about the card game back in January, then ordered his son to go spend the next hour with his daughter. Tom protested that he was not certain that he would be good company for her at the moment; Sir Thomas said that it was his duty; paternal responsibilities could not be shirked simply because they were inconvenient.
Tom, unwilling to offend his father, joined Susan and Elissa as commanded, but his humor was dark. “Do you know I am my father’s favorite suspect?” asked Tom. Susan said she did not believe that, but that her uncle had informed her of Lord Dexthorpe’s speculations and intentions. Then, because it was not the time for this discussion, Susan suggested he show Elissa more of Mansfield Park. Walking outside might refresh his spirits, and the animals would entertain the little girl: the fish in the fish pond, the hunting dogs, the poultry-yard with its geese and chickens. Elissa laughed as a pair of hens fought over some food, with the result that the grain was nabbed by the rooster.
“The rooster makes a lot of noise in the morning,” explained Susan.
“He crows the rest of the day as well,” Tom added. “I am not sure the rooster knows when morning is.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats; someone was arriving on horseback. “Perhaps the bailiff,” said Tom, “come to take me away.”
“That is not amusing,” said Susan.
“No, it is not. Let us go see who it is.”
The man on horseback was not the local bailiff, but Edmund, who had ridden over from Thornton Lacey to see how they were. “I should have come before,” he said, but everyone excused the new husband. His parents were especially happy to see him: Sir Thomas, because his second son often had good sense, and Lady Bertram, because Edmund brought a letter from her dear Fanny. Edmund listened to Mr. John Yates, who was happy to have a new audience to describe his utter wretchedness at his brother’s shocking murder; Edmund tolerated a few arch remarks from his sister Maria, who informed him that Miss Crawford had called at Mansfield Park; and Edmund could not help but hear the many opinions of Mrs. Norris, from her certainty that a horse thief must be responsible for the death of Mr. Yates, to her deep concern that Sir Thomas was committing a grave error by bringing Elissa to his estate. What did Edmund, as a clergyman, have to say about Elissa? Edmund kept his answer to his aunt brief, but he said the child – he had seen her with Tom and Susan when he first arrived – seemed pretty and healthy, and that he was certain they would find a suitable situation for her in time.
Edmund knew Mrs. Norris too well to furnish her with additional arguments to use against his little niece, but when he finally had time alone with Sir Thomas, he was less reserved. His concerns were the same as hers, with an additional reflection due to his own situation. A clergyman, expected to preach and to practice morality, would be injured by such an example in his own family. “Even allowing Maria to remain at Mansfield Park raises questions,” he said.
“Elissa is my granddaughter! I cannot leave her in Antigua. You have never been to the West Indies; you cannot be fully aware of the dangers. Besides, whether or not Elissa and Maria are at Mansfield Park or in distant lands will not alter the sins that have been committed by my own children. But I have more pressing matter
s to discuss with you.” And Sir Thomas related Lord Dexthorpe’s threats and his own concerns about Tom’s possible guilt.
Edmund was at first skeptical; he did not believe that his good-natured brother could be violent towards anyone. But when he learned of Tom’s gambling last winter and his consequent deceit about it, Edmund’s confidence in his brother weakened. Moreover, he had something to add. “The snuffbox – the one made from the hoof of a battle horse – Tom told plenty of others about it. He even once spoke to a curio dealer to determine its worth. I expect that Mr. Yates learned about it from Tom.”
This bit of information was intriguing, and Tom was summoned to his father’s study for additional interrogation. Sir Thomas wished to know if Tom had described the snuffbox to Mr. Yates – if he had perhaps given the snuffbox to Mr. Yates so that Mr. Yates could collect on Tom’s debt.
Tom admitted that he might have described the snuffbox to Mr. George Yates; he conceded that Edmund was correct that he had once spoken to a curio dealer about its worth, but only in idle conversation. While at Weymouth, Tom had met an expert in rare items and had wondered how those items were valued; as an example, he described his father’s snuffbox. But he had not given the snuffbox to Mr. Yates; he had not owed Mr. Yates money. Why the snuffbox had been found among Mr. Yates’s things, Tom could not say.
Sir Thomas said, “I can only hope that we will hear from Mr. Rushworth soon. I sent a servant to Sotherton six hours ago.”
Edmund was confused by this; when the situation was explained, he was still skeptical. “I would not wish to rely on the memory of Mr. Rushworth to prove my innocence. Was anyone else at that game?”
The Mansfield Park Murders Page 15