Cole got to hear their hopes and dreams. He got to witness their bravery in midnight kitchen raids (and share in their spoils if he kept their secret). He saw them hurt when men were fickle and capricious in their treatment of them, and he witnessed their pleasure when treated as equals and respected.
Unfortunately his sisters were scattered around the country now, married and raising their own families, one had even gone as far as India with her husband. Cole was in close contact with most at the moment, thanks to their father’s swift decline, but none of them would mourn his passing with the same emotion that they had for their mother, who had been taken from them far too soon.
They walked in silence to the great hall and although it was a large and public space, he knocked before entering, as a courtesy. Thankfully the widow Lanning was dry eyed, so they hadn’t interrupted her in a moment of grief.
Mr Lanning’s coffin sat at the other end of the hall, surrounded by flowers, both given as tokens of grief and to hide the smell of decomposition.
The Smalls sat either side of Mrs Lanning, seemingly happy to sit in silence. The smalls were in their 50’s, both had salt and pepper hair and a grave demeanour, even when not in mourning. Mrs Lanning’s hair was pure white and pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, although quite a few strands seemed to have come loose and were pushed behind her ears.
“I do hope we aren’t interrupting you,” Cole said as he grew near.
“Of course not.” Mrs Lanning did her best to smile at him but it was a poor reflection of the smile he used to see on her lips. She got to her feet to properly greet her guests.
“I’d like to introduce you to some friends. This is Lord Copley and his daughter, Lady Athena. This is Mrs Lanning, as well as Lord and Lady Small.”
They bowed and curtseyed to each other, uttering the usual pleasantries, then the ladies retook their seats.
“I’ll fetch some more chairs,” Mr Small offered.
Cole moved to help but Copley stopped him, offering to help in his place, so Cole turned to Mrs Lanning.
“Mrs Lanning, my friend here is unusually gifted and she believes she can explain what happened to your husband, and she assured me, it was not demonic.”
Her dark eyes widened with hope as she looked to Thea.
“Are you from the Church? A novice perhaps?”
“No, Mrs Lanning, my knowledge does not come from the church,” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “Although I have read many religious texts,” she added.
The men returned with additional chairs and they sat down, roughly in a circle. Thea folded her hands in her lap and stared at them for a moment. Cole had the desire to reach out and place a reassuring hand on hers, but resisted the urge. After another few moments, she steeled herself and looked up.
“First, I must ask if your husband has ever had a seizure before, either like the one he had that night, or perhaps he has simply lost consciousness, many doctors might call it being prone to fainting.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Good. In that case, I believe I can say with some certainty, that your husband suffered what is known as an apoplectic seizure. Something happens in the head and the sufferer bleeds into their brain, just like we would bleed from a cut. It can cause headaches, sickness, confusion, loss of consciousness, seizures and even the bleeding into the eye, although that is rare. I know what happened to him must have been terrifying to witness but it is not supernatural. It might also give you some comfort to know that as soon as he collapsed, he would not have been aware of what else happened. He would not have felt pain.”
Mrs Lanning was silent for a very long time before finally asking, “Why?”
“Why?” Thea repeated. “Why did he bleed?”
“Yes.”
“I cannot say with certainty, but sometimes it is as a result of a head injury. Even one received a while ago can appear to have healed outside but suddenly worsen.”
“And you are sure this is what happened?”
“As sure as I can be. For absolute proof, we would need an autopsy but I understand that would be traumatic for you.”
“And what you describe, it is… natural?”
“Oh yes. Science is now finding answers for many things that used to frighten us, deaths like your husband’s have been recorded since Ancient Greece. Everything I’ve told you can be verified, I can even tell you which books to reference, if you wish.”
Mrs Lanning reached to her neck and closed her fist around the cross on her necklace.
Cole saw Thea notice the action and frown for a moment, before her features smoothed once more.
“It may also interest you to know that while many call this an apoplectic seizure, many others refer to it as ‘The Stroke of God's Hand’. If anyone took your husband, it was God, not the Devil.”
Mrs Lanning’s eyes filled with tears and spilled over.
“I’m sorry,” Thea apologised. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”
“Do not apologise.” Mrs Lanning accepted the handkerchief Lord Small handed her and dabbed at her eyes. Lady Small held her hand out and Mrs Lanning took it. “You have set my mind at ease, thank you.”
Thea gave a small smile.
“Might I have a copy of the list of reference books?” Lord Small asked, immediately wiping the smile from Thea’s face.
“Is that really necessary?” Cole asked.
“Of course,” Thea answered, ignoring Cole’s attempt to protect her. “If you have a pencil and paper, I can write it down now.”
Lord Small looked nonplussed and Cole glared at him.
“Unless you can remember them,” Thea continued. “The first description of the symptoms is by Hippocrates, in the Corpus Hippocraticum. It’s in Latin but the original Greek is better, if you can read it. There are more modern references in the Edinburgh Surgical and Medical Journal, where it’s sometimes referred to as meningeal haemorrhage. You’ll find papers in volume one, issues seventeen, volume two, issue thirty one-”
“Hush,” Lady Small said and although she was talking to her husband, it silenced Thea also. “She has given Mrs Lanning some comfort, let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
Lord Small looked rather as though he were swallowing an egg whole. “As you wish.”
“Well, I’ll show our guests to their rooms now,” Cole cut in before things could become any more tense. “Will we see you at dinner, Mrs Lanning?”
“I don’t think so. If it’s no trouble, I’ll have a tray in my room again.”
“I quite understand, and it’s no trouble.”
“You’re a good boy, Cole, your mother would be proud.”
“Thank you.”
***
Thea followed Cole to rooms in the east wing, presumably the Cavendish suite he spoke of earlier. There was a central sitting room with a bedroom and dressing room on either side. The suite was beautifully appointed and elegantly furnished.
“They’re lovely,” she said as he showed them around. Their lady’s maid and valet had already unpacked most of their belongings.
“These were my mother’s rooms,” he explained. “Selena prefers the west wing, so that she might sleep late more easily. That’s where most of the guests are housed too, so it’s just us in this wing, my rooms are across the hall if you need anything.”
“Are you sure it’s all right, we wouldn’t want to intrude,” Thea said. It felt very strange to be in the room his mother had occupied.
“It’s fine. Besides, I think she would have liked you. She did not have your intellect but she had a sharp wit and didn’t tolerate fools gladly.”
Thea blushed, unsure what to make of his words.
“Well, I’ll leave you to settle in. Shall I call at eight and escort you down to dinner; will that give you enough time?”
“Ample,” her father assured him and Cole left with a bow, leaving them alone in the sitting room. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Why wo
uldn’t I be?” She pretended confidence, although she feared that it sometimes came off as arrogance.
“This is the first time we’ve attempted an investigation without your mother. I know you’ve witnessed her working for many years, but it is quite something else to bear her burdens alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she smiled, holding her hand out. “I’ve got you.”
When he took her hand, she went into his arms and he held her, gently stroking her hair as he did when she was a girl.
“You did well today,” he said. “I think you may have made a friend for life with Mrs Lanning.”
“She’s sweet.” Thea pulled away and smiled. “Now it’s your turn to work your charms,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice as she took a seat on the sofa.
“You make it sound as if I have some mystical powers,” he said, an indulgent smile on his lips as he took a seat on the opposite couch.
“No, but you see things in people that I am blind to.”
“I can't read everyone as well as I can read you, my dear.”
She smiled, although she was sure she looked tense. She certainly felt tense.
“I do believe that Mr Cole is developing a fondness for you however.”
“Don’t be silly.” She blushed and lowered her head, although she knew that her father could probably see her interest in Cole, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. “I’m sure he is the toast of society, with beautiful women hanging on his every word.”
“You are a beautiful woman too, Thea.”
“Yes, but hardly the type to flatter an ego.”
“Just knowing you are mine and that I can take some credit for you, flatters my ego,” he assured her.
Thea didn’t reply. Fathers were supposed to be proud of their children so in her mind, his praise didn’t count.
“Just…” he began but tapered off.
“What?” she asked, her interest piqued, even although she was far from sure that she wanted to hear his judgement.
“Recently- well, ever since Johnathan, you seem to have resigned yourself to being alone. I know he hurt you and I know you needed time to grieve, but it has been two years. Each day I see you build the walls around your heart a little higher, and it pains me to think you might believe yourself unlovable.”
“I’m fine, Papa, truly. I’m happy with my life. If I should find someone like you to love me, then I shall consider myself exceptionally lucky but if I do not, I won’t pine. I only have one life and I intend to live it to the fullest, whatever may come.”
“And that is a good outlook to have, as long as you aren’t ruling out the possibility of love. It’s often found in the strangest of places, and at times when we least expect it.”
“Mr Cole is a fine gentleman, Father, but please don’t try to force things. He may prove to be as shallow as the others were, young men are notoriously fickle creatures.”
He smiled. “Some are, yes, but Cole is approaching thirty, if memory serves,”
“Eight and twenty,” she corrected automatically, then blushed as she realised how her knowledge might be taken as interest. Was it her fault that’s she couldn’t forget anything? “He appeared as a witness in a trial a few years back, and they published his name in the newspaper article.”
“What of the other guests, does that encyclopaedic memory contain any details of their lives?”
“Little of interest. The trial that Cole appeared at was for an altercation between his tenants.” She searched through her memories for the other guests. “Mr and Mrs Buchan were mentioned in their son’s wedding announcement recently. Mr Buchan owns land in Ireland, while his brother, Lord Buchan is a Conservative MP in the House of Commons. Lord Grady is a magistrate in Wyndham. Lord Small is a Conservative sitting in the House of Lords. Mrs Dale recently married Mr Dale, a wealthy business man with cotton mills in the north of England. I believe he is much older than she is, which is perhaps why she is here and he isn’t.”
“A marriage of convenience?”
“Exactly. She is a distant cousin to Queen Victoria and her uncle is an Earl. Selena Cole is the daughter of a noble but rather impoverished family, so she likely married Mr Cole for the financial security; he is far older than she, five and twenty years I believe.” She didn’t believe it, she knew it, but her father had once schooled her that people were more receptive to others who appeared flawed, so she obliged when she could. “With an age gap like that, it is unlikely to be a love match.”
“Perhaps the lure of being a wealthy widow was the appeal,” her father suggested.
“Perhaps. Mr Garwood is new money; if memory serves, he owns a plantation in the Caribbean.”
“He owns slaves?”
“Very likely. His wife is- was from a respected family. They have been married for six years but they have no children yet. Does any of that help?”
“I’m sure it will prove useful. Now you should probably go and start getting ready, we want to make a good impression on these people.”
“I don’t know why,” Thea complained. “It will all be for nought once I open my mouth. You know that ladies shouldn’t have opinions.”
“People are really not as bad as you make out,” he tried to comfort her.
“Tell that to Lord Small.”
“For someone with perfect recall, yours is sometimes rather faulty. You have made four new acquaintances today and only one has been in the slightest bit hostile.”
“You’re right,” she gave him the most heartfelt smile that she could. “I’m probably just a little tired, we did ride quite a long way today.”
“And in the sun,” he reminded her.
“I’ll go and see if Evans is ready to do my hair.”
“Do try to be nice to her, doing your hair is part of her job.”
“I will. Thank you, Papa.”
She entered her bedroom, which was decorated in earthy shades of brown, gold and red, which created a warm feeling. She wondered who had decorated it, Cole or his mother? Either way, they seemed to be warm people.
Evans was still unpacking.
“How was the journey?” Thea asked.
“Very good, Ma’am. I’m still fascinated by trains, they go so fast.”
“They do.” Thea sat before the dressing table and Evans came up behind her and began unpinning the riding hat and her hair beneath.
“What style would you like this evening?”
“Is a bun too simple?”
“Not on a travel day, Ma’am. How about if I braid the front, then it will look as if we’ve put a little effort in.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
Evans began brushing her hair out.
“How is Cutler?” Thea asked.
“He’s very well, ma’am.”
Cutler was her father’s valet, and romantically interested in Evans.
“No proposal?” Thea had thought he might use the privacy of their train journey to cement their union. It was perhaps a little soon, they had only been out together twice on their days off, but they had been working alongside each other for years and to Thea, they seemed perfectly matched.
“Not yet. He hasn’t said anything outright to me, but I think he’d like to save a little more before formalising our friendship.”
“He’s a very responsible man.”
“He is.” Evans smiled with pride. “And what about you, do you like your hosts?”
“I’m not sure yet. The father seems rather hostile but his son assured me it’s because of his infirmity and nothing personal.”
“What of the son?”
“I don’t know. He is pleasant enough, I suppose.”
“And the murders, have you made any progress yet?”
“Possibly. I believe the final death was natural causes but I am unable to prove that. As for the other two, well they were clearly unnatural and as yet, I have no solutions.”
“Well, its early days, Ma’am.”
“Yes…” s
he allowed her mind to wander over everything she had learned today. Tomorrow she would begin speaking to the other guests, and arrange to speak with the constable, magistrate and local doctor. Hopefully one or more of them would give her the necessary clues to begin unravelling this mystery.
She was actually looking forward to meeting the mystic as well, and discovering exactly how her tricks worked.
The next few days should be very interesting indeed, she just hoped that she was up to the challenge.
Chapter Four
Cole arrived promptly at eight to escort them down to dinner and as he entered their sitting room, found himself speechless for a moment.
Her dark hair had been parted in the middle and swept back from her face, although a few tendrils had escaped over her ears and nicely framed her features. In the candlelight. Her dark eyes appeared even more dramatic and gave the impression that if he looked into them for long enough, he might glimpse her soul.
Her gown was royal blue silk, off the shoulder, with a low waist and full skirt, although the skirt was not as large as he had come to expect. It was a simple dress, which served to heighten her beauty, rather than detract from it.
Her jewellery was as simple and complementary as her gown, consisting of a single strand of pearls, a pearl bracelet and a single pearl in each ear.
Seeing her now, he found it difficult to believe that he had ever thought her appearance simple or plain and as he drank in her image, she pressed her lips together in a nervous gesture, making them flush a deeper shade of red for a few moments.
Suddenly he found himself feeling rather stunned, and unable not to wonder what her lips would feel like should he touch them.
He coughed, afraid that if he spoke immediately he would betray his thoughts.
“You look lovely, Thea.”
“Thank you.” She replied, dipping her head. “You look very fine this evening also.”
Although he had changed, his wardrobe was very similar to what he had worn all day, with the exception that he had replaced a dark grey cravat with a white one. Only other men usually commented on his appearance however, but he liked the compliment. Idly, he wondered if female praise was the reason dandies were so fashion conscious.
Murder at Locke Abbey Page 4