He moved the horse nearer to the window and after moving the rug aside, he made a swift examination of the broad oak boards beneath. Presently he slid his knife into a crevice and with a cry of triumph lifted the wooden plank, revealing a hole beneath into which he plunged his hand.
They all held their breaths as he drew forth a square, flat, red leather box, the sort in which expensive jewellery is sold.
“Let us hope that Miss Greenhowe left the diamonds in the case,” he said lightly, “for if she has removed them I doubt we’ll ever discover where they rest now!”
“Oh, don’t, don’t say so,” whispered Cressida in anguish, “Please just open it. I cannot bear the suspense any longer!”
Underwood lifted the small brass catch with a practiced thumb – he often opened his snuff box in the same manner – and lifted the lid.
The sunshine played upon the contents, making them all gasp.
Nestled in their blue silk bed were the most magnificent set of diamonds Underwood had ever seen – complete and untarnished by time – earrings, necklace, brooch, and the wirings to make the whole into a tiara, should it be required.
“Oh dear God,” said Luckhurst, but it was a groan of despair, not an acknowledgement of beauty of the stones Underwood held in his hands.
Attridge was the first to pull himself together, “Well, Mr Underwood, it looks as though poor Rutherford has been the victim of a miscarriage of justice after all. I shall go directly to the magistrate and set the wheels in motion for his release.”
Underwood gave him a cool look, “Pray don’t put yourself to the trouble, my dear sir, I shall do that myself. I have already written to the Attorney General about your conduct in this matter and I suspect he will want a full of account of what has gone on in this house.”
Attridge’s face drained of all colour, “By God, sir, you take much upon yourself!”
“As did you,” answered Underwood coldly, “I suspect this family will now be dispensing with your services, so I suggest you take yourself off.”
The man gave Underwood a look of such loathing that even that gentleman was taken aback, if only for a moment.
“You have made an enemy, Underwood, and take my word on it, I will have my revenge.”
“You tried once, sir, and failed. Perhaps it is now the moment to admit defeat.”
“Never!” Attridge snapped and turned on his heel.
Luckhurst grabbed his arm as he walked past him, “What are we to do now, Mark?” he asked of his friend, “It looks as though your clever plotting has ended in disaster!”
Attridge shook himself free, “You are on your own, Ormond, so I suggest you try and persuade the girl to marry you as soon as you can, for there is nothing else for us now. I’m off to pastures new before the Attorney General sends for me!”
He stalked out and they heard his rapid footsteps descending the stairs.
Cressida looked coolly at her erstwhile suitor, “I think I would like you to leave, too, Ormond, and take whichever of the servants who are your creatures with you. Matty and I will manage Aunt Jemima until new staff can be hired.”
Luckhurst suddenly lost all control, “Damn you all to hell!” he shouted, “This should all be mine! I’ve cared for it while Rutherford busied himself playing at soldiers.”
He turned on Underwood, spittle forming at the corners of his lips as he fought to get the words out, “You! You damned busybody. Attridge is right! I’ll make you sorry you ever crossed me!”
“Go away, Mr Luckhurst,” said Underwood calmly, “And in future govern your language in front of ladies, you ill-mannered lout. I might expect expletives from a man like Attridge, he is in business, after all, and perhaps, has not had the education of a gentleman, but you should know better than to sully your cousins’ ears.”
Luckhurst slunk away like the cur that he was.
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Extinctus Amabitur idem” – How quickly we forget the ill-deeds of the dead
There was a long silence when the two men had gone. No one knew quite what to say. The shock was too raw and the implications of the discovery too immense to comprehend without time for them all to assimilate the events of the past few minutes.
Underwood looked around thoughtfully, wanting to break the silence but wary of saying anything too brash, Cressida had, after all, sustained quite a body blow from her cousin and erstwhile lover. “You know, I have never understood why the aristocracy insist on placing their children in the highest rooms in the house – falls from windows must be a major cause of childhood injury and death.”
“Noise,” said Miss Fettiplace automatically.
“I beg your pardon?” said Underwood, confused by the seemingly unrelated word.
“It’s the noise children make, that’s why they are banished to the attics until they have learned the art of silence. Babies cry rather a lot,” she explained kindly.
Underwood was well aware of this fact. Clarissa had been making the entire Underwood household cognisant of her presence for some months now, but it would not have occurred to him that one would want to close a door on the sound rather than try to find a reason and a cure for it.
He was brought back to the present by a sharp dig in his ribs from the still bemused Jebson. He turned questioningly on his companion, who nodded his head in the direction of Cressida, who had sunk onto the edge of the bed and was crying silently, great tears dropping off her chin and leaving dark stains on the blue silk of the open jewellery box.
Miss Fettiplace fluttered helplessly towards her, distressed both by her weeping and the fact that she had not noticed her charge’s despair, “Oh, my dear, Cressy, please don’t be upset. The nightmare is now over and we can bring our darling Rutherford back home.”
Cressida nodded and tried to force a smile, but she was too overcome to speak, breaking down once more, her body racked with bitter sobs.
Underwood was mortified. He found communicating with women on a personal level difficult enough in the ordinary way, but weeping entirely disarmed him. He never knew what to say or do, even with his own wife, far less ladies with whom he was barely acquainted. Experience had taught him that whatever he said or did, it was almost guaranteed to be the wrong thing.
“Come, Miss Petch,” he ventured rousingly, “No tears needed now for your brother. He will be back in England before you know it.”
“I’m not crying for him,” she managed to wail, before renewed sobs shook her.
“Then what?” he exclaimed, confounded.
“Now I’ll never ... never wear these l ... lovely diamonds on my w...wedding day!” she stuttered, between sniffs and hiccups, “I know I did not w ...want to marry Ormond, but to have him r...reject me, so painfully, so brutally! And before all of you. He was never in love with me, only wanted to m...marry me for my money. Oh! I think I shall never be happy again.”
Miss Fettiplace sat beside her on the little bed and put her arms around her, “Oh, my dear, of course there will be other suitors.”
Cressida looked at her, and more tears gathered in her eyes, “There was not for you, Mattie, nor for Aunt Jemima! I think all the women in this family are cursed.”
Not one of them had anything faintly consoling to say to this.
Underwood hesitated for a moment, then did the thing that was usual to him in these circumstances. He changed the subject completely. He thought it best to pretend that the past five minutes never happened.
“Shall we go down? After all the excitement, I think a cup of tea would be in order.”
“Good idea,” said Jebson hastily, “After you, ladies.”
Since he had stood aside and held the door open for them, neither Mattie nor Cressida could avoid rising and preceding him out of the room.
The two flights of stairs seemed to give Cressida the time to gather herself and closing the lid of the box so the diamonds no longer winked and glittered at her in a stark reminder of her loss, enabled he
r to dry her cheeks and blow her nose on the large handkerchief which Underwood had thoughtfully thrust into her hand as she passed him.
By the time they reached the drawing room they all appeared to be far less subdued, especially Jebson, who seemed to have blossomed into a different man, with the realization that his livelihood was no longer under threat – in fact, quite the opposite. Rutherford Petch was a rather thoughtless landlord, though not unfair, but with the debt he now owed Jebson, he could not fail to be grateful. Will could suddenly see a happier future for himself and his family.
Miss Fettiplace ordered tea from Brimblecombe, who had been appraised of the situation as soon as he answered the summons of the bell.
“I gathered something of the sort had occurred, miss,” he said, a grin hovering at the edges of his mouth, but which he was far too dignified to show, “Mr Luckhurst burst into the servants’ hall a few minutes ago and ordered the boot boy, two footmen and two maids to leave the house with him. The remaining staff has been warned that the slightest hint that their loyalty is in question will result in immediate dismissal.”
“Good man,” said Underwood, “We now have only one major problem. Where are we to put the diamonds for safekeeping until they can be verified as the missing stones and secure Rutherford’s release? We dare not risk another robbery – and I would not put anything of the sort past Attridge and Luckhurst. They may not have stolen the gems last time, but they took full advantage of their loss – and they are both extremely irate that their plans have been foiled.”
“That’s easy, sir,” replied Brimblecombe, “They can go in the strong box in the Butler’s Pantry. The family silver has been safe enough there for the past three hundred years.”
Underwood looked aghast, “Do you mean to tell me that there has been a safe haven for those troublesome stones all along? Miss Greenhowe need not have been concerned for their safety at all?”
“I did try to tell her so, Mr Underwood, but she is a strong-minded woman, even now!”
Underwood raised his hand to his forehead in a gesture of comic despair, “Good grief! I really have heard every sort of madness now,” he said faintly, “A man has been transported and I have been set the task of finding a set of diamonds that should never have been in peril in the first place. Why on earth did you people ever allow Miss Greenhowe to keep the jewels in her possession?”
“They are her diamonds,” said Cressida faintly, “She insisted on having them with her.”
“Did it not occur to any of you that perhaps she might have been fooled by a set of paste stones? She could have played with those to her heart’s content!”
Brimblecombe looked thunderstruck at this piece of ingenuity, “Now why didn’t we think of that?” he asked in wonder, “That would have saved a lot of trouble.”
“Give me strength!” muttered Underwood, “Where is my tea?” he demanded, “It’s the very least I have earned.”
*
By mid afternoon Underwood was ready to take his leave. He promised to remain in Midmickle until the following day so that he could report the finding of the diamonds to the magistrate – though he suspected that as a friend of Luckhurst, that gentleman might already know of the discovery and be even now wondering how he was going to explain the miscarriage of justice which had begun in his court.
Cressida had quite recovered herself and when she took Underwood’s hand to bid him farewell, she spoke in tones of heartfelt gratitude, “Mr Underwood, I do not know how we can ever thank you sufficiently for all you have done. I know you must have incurred some considerable cost with all your travel and staying at inns. Perhaps you would allow me to pay those for you, at least?”
“Think no more about it, Miss Petch. Major Thornycroft engaged me and it is his place to reimburse me.”
“That is all very well, but I should like to give you something myself.” She looked thoughtful, then a smile brightened her face, “I know! Did you not tell me that you have a young family?”
“I do. Two small daughters.”
“Then you shall have the rocking horse and the doll’s house as my gift to them.”
Underwood smiled, thinking of how Horatia would adore to own the horse, but manners forbade him accepting so valuable an offering, “That is very kind, Miss Petch, but those items are your family possessions – and I’m sure before very long both you and Rutherford will have need of them for your own offspring.”
She looked sad and shook her head, “I don’t think that will ever happen – not for me, at least, and Rutherford will have money aplenty to replace them, should he so wish.”
He looked into her melancholy face, “I’m sure that the right man will come along one day, my dear girl. I shall make a bargain with you – my girls will be too old for the toys in a year or two – I shall be delighted to take them on loan and they shall be returned to the Pershore House nursery when your own children have need of them.”
She looked delighted at this compromise, “I shall send them on to you by carrier just as soon as I can arrange it,” she said warmly.
“Why not make a holiday of it and come yourself to Hanbury and meet my children and my wife? It’s a pleasant little town and a break from routine will do you good. Who knows, the waters might even have a miraculous effect on your Great Aunt.”
Miss Fettiplace, who journeyed only to travel between one relation and another, was overcome with excitement at the prospect of a real holiday, “Oh, Cressy, do let us go to Hanbury. I should like it above all things!”
It would have taken a harder heart than Cressida’s to refuse such a plea and the party ended with affectionate good wishes on both sides and Underwood and Jebson rode back into Midmickle content that they had left the two ladies not only happier, but also safe; Brimblecombe having been given strict instructions to lock the house securely and set two men whom he trusted on guard until the constable and the magistrate had been and seen the diamonds for themselves.
They rode in companionable silence for part of the way, then Jebson spoke, “You know, Mr Underwood, I have my own thanks to add to those of Miss Petch. Luckhurst would have been an appallingly clutch fisted landlord. I dare swear you have saved me and my family from years of penury, or the prospect of moving on to a new place and beginning again.”
“I’m very glad to be of assistance, my dear fellow, and remember, for all your gratitude to me, that I could not have done any of this without you. It was courageous of you to defy Luckhurst. I know how difficult he could have made your life had this all gone awry.”
“Not just Luckhurst,” he said with a rare show of disloyalty, “I can’t begin to tell you how my wife felt about all this. There would have been no end to the grief she would have given me had I failed.”
“By Jove, I had no idea,” said Underwood, much struck, “Then you are an even braver man that I believed, for it takes a huge heart to defy a wife!”
Jebson was delighted at this accolade and fell silent again whilst he pondered on the feeling of pride it engendered. He had never been called upon before to display bravery; his life being a quiet one of running his shop and rubbing along happily enough with his wife and children. He was roused from his cogitations by a remark from Underwood.
“By gad, women are strange creatures, are they not?”
Jebson had never considered the matter. He dealt with more women than men in his profession and found them as transparent as the glass bottles that held his various potions and lotions, “In what way?” he asked cautiously.
“Take Miss Petch, for instance,” said Underwood, “I have restored her brother to her, rid her of a noisome fiancé and all she could think of was missing out on her Wedding Day.”
“These things are important to the ladies,” said Jebson reasonably.
“Oh, I know that – but what escapes me is why? It is one day out of an entire life. Does she really feel that her existence is now forfeit because she has no husband? I lived perfectly content for forty years without a
wife.”
“Ah, but would you want to be without her now?” asked Jebson, with a smile.
Underwood contemplated this unlooked for eventuality and finally shook his head, “I cannot conceive of anything worse than to be without my Verity.”
“There you are then,” said Jebson, but a small part of him whispered that he might not feel quite as strongly himself – a whisper which he quickly and successfully quietened.
“But Cressida Petch despised Luckhurst! It is not the same thing at all,” exclaimed Underwood, at a loss to fathom the depths of the female mind.
“Then you are right, Mr Underwood, women are a mystery,” said Jebson decidedly.
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Ad Nauseam” – To the point of causing nausea
As expected, the local magistrate was not best pleased to see Underwood, though he did his utmost to hide his animosity.
Underwood arrived at his house in the late afternoon and was prepared to be turned away until he could make an appointment, but evidently Mr Kendrick wanted to conclude things as quickly as he could.
He was brisk and businesslike and pretended to be delighted that Underwood had found the necklace and that Rutherford Petch was apparently as innocent of the crime as he had sworn all along.
He made his fatal mistake at the very end of the conversation when he attempted to exonerate his friends from their part in the whole sorry saga.
“Of course, I’m very sorry for Rutherford, but I have to say, he brought this misfortune upon himself. His behaviour after he returned from Waterloo was lamentable; drinking far too much, gambling, keeping bad company. It was hardly surprising that everyone thought he had so far fall from grace as to steal from his aunt.”
Yield Not To Misfortune (The Underwood Mysteries Book 5) Page 18