Higgs rubbed at one of his ears. ‘Seems to think it’s time he was provided with somewhere more commodious, my lord,’ he said, all expression carefully wiped from his face.
So that explained that. Richard watched Higgs go over to the driver. A moment later, they disappeared off towards the horticultural area.
Miss Grandison limped back to Richard. ‘It seems an impressive machine, my lord. Roberts says it is a one-cylinder engine but that the power-to-weight ratio produces up to twenty-five miles an hour.’
‘You seem to know a great deal about motor vehicles, Miss Grandison.’
She shrugged. ‘They are the future, my lord. Mr Seldon has one and enjoys being driven in it.’
At that moment the station fly arrived. Stepping down from it was his brother, Colonel The Honourable Charles Stanhope.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Colonel jumped down from the fly. He was wearing a formal dark suit with a wing collar and a bowler hat. The driver lifted out his case and handed it to a groom. The transport was dismissed. Charles Stanhope tipped his hat with the briefest of smiles to Ursula and turned to the motor vehicle.
Ursula had thought she would be delighted to see him after his protracted stay in London. Now her feelings were confused. Questions had arisen that suggested he might not be quite everything he seemed. Belle’s verbal attack on him, despite Ursula’s immediate rejection of everything she said, had left a mark, like stains on linen that only appear after time has passed. And today she had been presented with facts that made her uneasy. She needed time to think.
‘Ah, my new toy has arrived. Sorry, Richard, I meant to be here before Roberts brought it round but business made me miss a train.’ He went over and laid a hand on the motor’s bonnet.
Ursula thought that he might just as well have been caressing a well-loved horse, even a woman. She repressed the shiver that went through her.
‘A nasty accident was only just avoided,’ said his brother coldly.
Charles Stanhope listened to the details of the incident. ‘I am extremely sorry, Richard, and relieved that no harm appears to have been done. I shall have to talk with Roberts. Nothing like that must be allowed to happen again.’
Ursula had retrieved the stick left in the stable when she had mounted that morning, and hoped to escape into the house before he spoke to her. Her limp slowed her down too much.
‘Miss Grandison, I am very pleased to see you in a habit. This must mean that you are able to ride again.’
She nodded. ‘My ankle is much recovered, thank you, Colonel.’ She knew her words were stiff and saw him frown. ‘Forgive me, I must go and change.’
Ursula limped into the house, conscious that the Colonel’s intent gaze followed her.
Upstairs in her bedroom, she went to the window and caught sight of the polished, dark-green motor vehicle disappearing with the Colonel driving. The details vouchsafed by Roberts echoed uneasily in her mind. She undid the buttons of her habit with irritated fingers. Emotion had to be banished, facts faced.
By the time she had carefully put away her habit and changed into a severe, ivory poplin shirt and matching linen skirt, Ursula had managed to achieve a certain calm. She brushed her hair into a knot at the back of her head, securing it with a host of pins.
Halfway down the last flight of stairs into the main hall, Ursula was in time to see Mr Warburton hand his hat and gloves to Benson. Then, in a flurry of rose-patterned muslin, Belle ran up to him.
‘William – you’re here! How wonderful!’ She grabbed his hands and stood looking eagerly at him, her bosom rising and falling with excitement, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with delight. No maidenly modesty for Belle, thought Ursula, transfixed on the staircase.
‘Miss Seldon. Thank you for being so pleased to see me.’
At the formality of his tone, Belle’s joy faded. ‘William?’ Her voice was hurt, her eyes searched his face.
Gently he removed his hands from her grip. ‘Have you been enjoying yourself, Miss Seldon?’
‘Belle!’ Helen advanced down the corridor. ‘I need to talk to you.’ Her voice was cool.
‘You only ever have one thing to say to me,’ Belle shouted and fled past her sister.
‘I am glad to see you back, William,’ said Helen austerely. ‘We will speak later.’ She followed after Belle.
Ursula sighed. She felt infinitely sorry for Belle and would cheerfully do serious injury to the young man who was causing her such pain.
She was the first to enter the dining room for luncheon. Then Helen came in, followed by William Warburton.
‘Belle will be taking her meal in her room; she is a little under the weather,’ Helen said. ‘Mr Warburton, I trust your mother has recovered from her indisposition?’
He coloured very faintly and made his way to his usual place. ‘Thank you, my lady, she is feeling much improved and the doctor is confident she will make a complete recovery.’
The Earl and his brother entered. They seemed at ease with one another and yet Ursula thought she detected an undercurrent. Could it have been caused by the arrival of the motor vehicle?
‘Charles,’ said Helen as the Colonel sat down. ‘We are delighted you have been able to return in time for Mama’s birthday celebrations.’
‘Would not have missed them for the world,’ he said easily.
‘And we want to know everything you have been up to in London; the exhibitions you have seen, the people you have met – all your activities.’
‘Dear Helen, I am afraid you would find such a recital very boring. Tell me instead of all you have arranged for tomorrow.’
Helen was more than happy to talk of the singers, acrobats and tumblers who were to provide the entertainment for the Dowager’s birthday fête. ‘And the fireworks should be particularly spectacular this year. Charles, it’s no use you raising an eyebrow at me. You know how Mama looks forward to her birthday fête.’
The servants, having served the first course, had disappeared. The Colonel said, ‘My dear Helen, I am well aware of Mama’s dependence on the outward sign of her standing in the local community. Indeed, I sometimes think she extends that standing to a good part of the country. She is lucky to have a daughter-in-law who is willing to pander to her foibles.’
Ursula waited for Helen to blush. Instead, she stared haughtily at the Colonel. ‘I wish I could think you were being honest and that you do know I care for her.’
‘Yes, Charles,’ said the Earl caustically. ‘You have been absent from Mountstanton too much. Had you been here you would have seen how much Mama depends on Helen.’
The Colonel held up his hands in surrender. ‘I am put in my place. I will say no more on the matter. Miss Grandison, how have you been spending your time over the last few weeks?’
‘I have enjoyed becoming better acquainted with Mountstanton, its history and traditions. Mr Benson has been kind enough to give me a tour of the picture gallery and I have learnt from Mrs Parsons something of what it takes to run a house of this magnitude. It has all been most educational.’
Helen looked at her with astonishment. ‘Ursula, I had no idea that was what you were up to.’
‘You make it sound as though I have been indulging in something underhand. I thought you would be pleased to hear I was so interested in this wonderful house and estate.’
‘If I had known of your curiosity, I would have made time to satisfy it myself,’ Helen said glacially.
‘I hope, Miss Grandison, that you will allow me to extend your knowledge of Mountstanton,’ said the Colonel smoothly.
Her poise perfectly in place, Ursula gave a little dip of her head and said, ‘That would be most kind, Colonel.’
He gave her a slightly puzzled look, as though he recognised a change in her attitude towards him and was unable to account for it.
‘Have we told you our plans for London, Charles?’ said Helen brightly. Having regained control of the conversation, she regaled her brother-in-law with d
etails of balls, race meetings, regattas and other excitements until the end of the meal.
As they left the dining room, Ursula said, ‘I think I should visit Belle, see how she is.’
‘I would rather she were left sleeping undisturbed,’ said Helen cooly.
‘Charles, I want you to take me in that motor carriage of yours to Salisbury,’ said the Earl. ‘I have an urgent errand there.’
‘I shall be delighted. Would you care to accompany us, Miss Grandison?’
‘Alas, I have letters to write,’ said Ursula. She moved off down the corridor, conscious that the Colonel was unhappy with her attitude.
She had not written to Mr Seldon for several days. Recently, there had not been a great deal worth telling him. Today, however, she had gained new details. In the library she helped herself to a supply of crested notepaper, borrowed the pen from the desk-stand and sat down to write to Helen’s father. The letter took her some considerable time and her clear, incisive hand covered several sheets of paper.
Having read what she had written, she picked up the pen again:
From what I have told you, I think you will agree that the question of Polly’s parentage has been answered. What is not clear is how many others are aware of the identity of her father, or whether it played any part in her death. Still a mystery is the identity of the man who fathered her unborn child. It is possible that the coroner was correct, that Polly did commit suicide. Her death could have been an accident, but the more information that comes to light, the less probable it seems. I am extremely reluctant to come to the conclusion that she was killed, but as time passes I feel it more and more likely. At Mountstanton, every effort is being made to put everything connected with her in the past. She has been buried and that should be that, is what the family seem to be saying.
This household is not a happy one. As you have heard, there are currents and cross-currents. Belle is unhappy and, much as it distresses me, I have to confess that Helen seems to be contributing to that unhappiness. Though I have not been able to discover what she has done with her dowry, I have seen enough of her marriage to the Earl to be certain that there is something very wrong between them. The Dowager Countess attempts to exercise her authority over her sons, particularly the Earl, not always successfully. She also seems far too concerned with what I term ‘the honour of the family’.
Once again, she paused and reread what she had written. After a little hesitation, she picked up the pen and continued:
There is the matter of the death of Mr Snell. How long before Miss Ranner tells someone else what she says she saw that night is impossible to say. I am certain she told me because she believed I would ensure the information was acted upon. But in what way?
Mr Seldon, do you remember talking to me one day about your purchase of a motor vehicle? I recollect vividly the frustration you expressed over the time it took to arrive. This has alerted me to an upsetting possibility, which I will investigate before reporting on it to you.
I do feel, sir, that if your business could possibly allow, you should come over and see for yourself the situation with both your daughters. I do not feel competent to assess exactly what has been happening here and I am very afraid that some other tragedy could be in the making.
I am, sir, your devoted servant,
Ursula signed her name and, without further rereading, placed the pages within a large envelope and sealed but did not address it. She would not put it out for Benson to send; tomorrow morning she would ride down to Hinton Parva and post it herself.
* * *
The weather for the Dowager Countess’s birthday fête was cloudless, sunny and warm.
There had been old friends of hers at dinner the previous evening and, to Ursula, it seemed the claustrophobic atmosphere at Mountstanton slightly lifted, until she realised that the Earl scarcely spoke and Helen’s conversation was too bright. Belle looked pretty but pale and gazed hopelessly across the table at William Warburton. However, she quite properly confined her conversation to the two elderly gentlemen she was seated between. Each appeared enchanted by her and, as the meal progressed, Belle cheered a little.
When the gentlemen joined the ladies for coffee, the Earl was not among them. The Colonel, as Ursula had feared, made straight for her.
‘I have this strange feeling that you are avoiding me,’ he said. His eyes were clear and frank as they studied her face.
Ursula smiled in a polite way; she could think of nothing to say.
He frowned. ‘What has happened, Miss Grandison? I know something has.’
‘Nothing has happened, Colonel Stanhope. Tell me, how did you occupy yourself in London? Are there interesting exhibitions to be seen?’
He gave a slight exclamation of annoyance and said, ‘Do you really want a polite conversation about nothing at all?’
Ursula felt a flush come to her face. ‘Colonel, I …’
‘Charles, such a delight to see you; it must be at least twelve years since we have met. Such a shame you were seated at the other end of the table.’ A woman of some fifty years of age appeared by the Colonel’s side.
He turned to her. ‘My lady, what a pleasure to meet you again.’
Ursula moved away.
Helen stretched out an arm towards her and suggested she play to them. ‘Something light and soft,’ she said.
Ursula launched into some Debussy. Not as light as Helen would have liked, she was sure, but she needed to play a piece that would tax her. As she finished the piece, the Colonel came to stand beside the piano.
The evening was coming to an end. The Earl had reappeared with apologies for the business he had been forced to attend to and guests were leaving.
‘I don’t know what that was but I enjoyed it,’ he said as she closed the piano lid. ‘You have a way of playing that brings music to life.’
‘Thank you, Colonel Stanhope. If you will forgive me, I am very tired.’
He placed a hand on her arm. ‘Miss Grandison, I need to talk to you. Dare I ask that you spare me a little time tomorrow morning?’
She stood up and looked squarely at him. ‘We should indeed talk, Colonel. Now, I must go.’ She said goodnight to Helen then left the room. Slowly mounting the stairs, she cursed herself for handling the situation so badly. It was unfair not to allow the Colonel to explain himself. But not yet. She needed to be absolutely clear in her mind exactly what she suspected him of.
* * *
In the morning, Ursula sent a message to the stables to saddle Daisy, the mare she usually rode. By the time she presented herself, the horse was all ready and snickered in a welcoming way.
The fresh air and warm sunshine were a benison. As she rode, Ursula began to feel lighter in spirit. On reaching the village, she tied Daisy up outside the shop, which also did duty as a post office.
‘America, did you say?’ asked Mr Partridge, weighing her envelope. ‘You will need an address before it can be sent.’
‘Oh,’ Ursula said, affecting surprise. ‘How stupid of me. Perhaps you will be good enough to provide sufficient postage and I will add the recipient’s address.’
She took back the stamped envelope and, using the pen and ink supplied on the counter, wrote Mr Seldon’s address on the envelope. Then she hurried from the shop.
Outside, she was accosted by a man in a bowler hat, not particularly tall, and dressed like a clerk. ‘I believe I have the fortune of addressing Miss Grandison?’ he said.
His accent was slightly nasal and clipped, very different from the slow, broad way of speaking Ursula had become used to in this part of the country. Had the man been a local, she would not have queried the identification, but that this stranger should address her by name was odd. ‘How did you know me?’ she asked.
‘You have been described to me, Miss Grandison, in a manner quite unmistakeable.’ He had bright, enquiring eyes, and appeared to be some forty years of age. ‘I’m Thomas Jackman.’
He said it in a way that suggested his name
was one she should recognise.
‘Mr Jackman, I am pleased to meet you. Now, you will oblige me by allowing me to reach my horse.’
For a moment he looked puzzled, then it was as though a shutter came down over his face. ‘Of course, miss,’ he said and stepped aside. ‘Sorry to inconvenience you.’
Grateful for the mounting block outside the village store, Ursula hoisted herself into the saddle, lifted her whip in acknowledgement to Mr Jackman, and put the horse into a gentle trot, wondering about the little encounter.
Miss Ranner was outside her house, talking to a neighbour. As Ursula rode towards her, she waved and hurried across. ‘Miss Grandison, good morning! I hope you are well. So nice to see you riding. Your ankle is much better?’
Ursula assured her it was and said she soon hoped to be mobile enough to visit with Miss Ranner.
‘I hope you don’t mind my mentioning it, Miss Grandison, but I saw you talking with that funny little man. Who is he?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘He has been hanging around the village all morning. He stayed last night at the Lion and Lamb and apparently the landlord says he has booked himself in for a week. This morning he was in the village shop making himself very pleasant to Mr Partridge and asking all sorts of questions.’
‘Questions, Miss Ranner?’ Ursula’s sense of unease communicated itself to her horse, who gave a slight sidestep and tossed her head. Ursula tightened the reins.
‘Nothing in particular, you understand, Miss Grandison. Merely what sort of village Hinton Parva is, the extent it covers, how very pleasant the villagers seem and is the weather going to continue so fine, that sort of thing. We all think, though, that there is something very odd about him. What is he doing here for a week?’
What was he doing here at all? Ursula wondered. ‘He looks like some sort of clerk,’ she said. ‘Maybe he is taking a holiday.’
Miss Ranner’s face cleared. ‘Of course, that must be it. I must not keep you, Miss Grandison. I’m sure up at Mountstanton there must be a great to-do going on.’
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