16
Ladies of a Certain Age
Early afternoon of the same day
When Adam had first arrived at his mother's home that morning, he had surprised her by leaving again after but a brief greeting. Nor did he explain, but said only that he had some medical business to attend to and would return in good time to meet her guests. That promise he had fulfilled. The fewer who knew of his conversation with Mrs. Ross the better. He had no wish to waste time turning aside the inevitable questions about why she wished to see him. Especially since still he had no clear idea himself.
Now he was back, just in time to join his mother in her dressing room to take his final instructions.
‘There will be five guests,’ his mother told him. ‘Mrs. Wellborne and Mrs. Transom, who are sisters. Then Barbara, Lady Grandison, The Honourable Jane Labelior and Miss Vastone, whose brother is heir-presumptive to Lord Maxstoke. All are prominent members of local society and knew the late archdeacon and his wife as well as any in these parts. They agreed to come readily enough, but do not be surprised if they hold back somewhat. The superstition is still strong that you should not speak ill of the dead. None will wish to be the first to share what they know. If you will be guided by me, you will look first to Lady Grandison. The rest will take their lead from her. She is old enough, and certainly rich enough, to set superstitions and conventions at naught. If she decides to trust you, you will learn all you wish to know. If she does not, your journey here will be wasted.’
They were still upstairs when he heard the maid go to the door to admit the first of the guests. His mother went down at once. She told Adam to wait until she sent the maid to call him, for she wished the ladies to be done with their greetings and settled, ready to talk, before she presented him.
It seemed an age that he waited. What on earth was taking them so long? Surely five rational women could greet one another and possess themselves of dishes of tea in less than twenty minutes?
Eventually, the maid returned and summoned him to the parlour, much like one of the early Christian martyrs being summoned to face the assembled lions in the arena. Allowing the maid to precede him, Adam gathered his wits and came in almost on tip-toes. His first impression of the assembled ladies was not one to give him confidence.
What he had expected, he did not know. Perhaps a group of neat, soberly-dressed women, sipping tea from fine-china dishes and talking in hushed voices. If so, he would have been disappointed. What faced him looked more as if the stock of several merchants were piled on the chairs. Rich heaps of ribbons, frills, furbelows and flounces adorned the ladies’ clothes. They had their hair piled high in the latest manner, and fingers, necks and breasts carried more gold and jewels than he had ever seen before. The persons within this bounty were scarcely visible. But the noise! It seemed everyone spoke at once. When they did not speak, they laughed or cried aloud, and all in voices of such volume and power as would carry across the largest room.
‘Ladies,’ his mother shouted, for to do less would have been a waste of time. ‘This is my son, Dr. Adam Bascom.’
The total silence which followed her words was more terrifying than the hubbub which had preceded them. Five pairs of eyes were fixed on him. Five faces showed their owners to be engaged in the closest examination of his dress and person. Five minds were weighing him against heaven knows what standards of acceptability. Adam had sat before some of the most learned professors in three universities and submitted himself and his knowledge to rigorous examination. Yet he had never felt so powerful a sense of being weighed and found wanting.
Adam’s mother introduced him formally to each of her guests in turn and the usual pleasantries were exchanged. After that, there was something of an awkward silence while he wondered how best to begin.
Lady Grandison was the first to tire of this hesitation. Her clothes bore the greatest number of frills and trimmings. Her hair carried the most ribbons and curls. And her jewels so far outshone the rest that it almost hurt the eyes to look upon her, so much did she flash and sparkle with every movement. ‘Well, young man, here we are. But before you say anything, let me ask you a question. We are all well aware that you found the Archdeacon’s body in that churchyard. But what precisely is your further interest? Is it professional or personal? Your mother tells us you never knew the man – which you should, in my opinion, count a great blessing.’
She fixed her eyes on him and waited for his answer. Adam was not a man easily abashed, but he quailed before that gaze. He knew the course of the rest of the conversation would depend on what he said next. Almost without consideration, he chose honesty. ‘A little of both, my Lady. Professionally, I am puzzled how he might have fallen and struck his head with sufficient force to cause death. Personally, I believe the inquest avoided the most pressing question: what was he doing in the churchyard at Gressington so late in the day? Until I can see a plausible answer to these questions, my curiosity gives me no rest.
‘I should also, I believe, state at the outset that I have no proper standing in this matter,’ he continued. ‘I have no connection with his family or brief from the magistrate whose concern this should be. Indeed, he told me plainly enough to let the affair be forgotten. All that drives me on is my most regrettable curiosity and a sense that justice has not been done.’
Adam now held his breath, expecting to be sent on his way with a severe reprimand for his impertinence. The ladies continued to watch him gravely. At last, Lady Grandison delivered her verdict. ‘I perceive that you find it hard to follow orders from those in authority, sir. That is as it should be. I have never done what I was told, merely because the teller claimed some right to direct my behaviour. If I am honest, I have never done as I was told, and there is an end of it. Many people have also said that I am as curious as a cat, though rarely to my face. I like your honesty in this matter.’
She now turned to the others. ‘We may proceed as we agreed, my friends. Dr. Bascom is an honest man and I, for one, will give him my help freely.’
Adam bowed his head, murmuring his thanks. He felt as if he had unexpectedly been reprieved from the hangman’s rope even while standing on the scaffold. ‘I do not know what manner of man Dr. Ross was,’ he said. ‘That makes it hard for me to judge the likelihood of any of the situations presented to my mind.’
The ladies still seemed hesitant, looking at one another for reassurance. As his mother had predicted, none wished to be the first to speak and hoped for another to give the lead. Lady Grandison grunted with exasperation. ‘What ninnies you all are. Surely you do not subscribe to the common superstition that you should speak no ill of the dead, lest they come to haunt you?’
She dismissed them with a shrug and turned to Adam. ‘I have several characteristics that some describe as flaws, Doctor. I consider them essential virtues. Chief among them is this: I scorn to waste energy in the toleration of fools. Nathaniel Ross was a fool, and an unpleasant fool at that. He was pompous, bigoted, self-righteous and a bully. Though he was a clerk in holy orders, he was no Christian in my book. Our Lord bade us love our neighbours. If any about him were nonconformists or dissenters, he treated them only with hatred and derision. I loathed the man.’
There was some whispering when she paused, but no one spoke against her. She had not, moreover, quite finished.
‘Nathaniel Ross’s religion was ambition, young man,’ she went on. ‘He aimed to be a bishop, and that sooner rather than later. To achieve such a position demands support amongst those with influence on the government and the King. Having neither precise scholarship nor a talent for good fellowship, he planned another route to glory. He aimed to win over those who felt they had least in common with our Latitudinarian church leaders. I mean the remnant of the Jacobite tendency and the Tories of the deepest hue. These are the gentry most offended by change. Especially if they must accommodate themselves to seeing people in the merchant and professional classes become wealthier than they are. To that end, he preached blind obedie
nce to authority and a continuation of the laws restricting dissenters from taking a full part in civic life. In short, sir, he was a snivelling toady. He would sell his soul in exchange for the chance to wear a mitre.’
Her tirade was over, to be greeted by nods of assent from the other ladies. As if released from any obligation to hold back, several now hastened to add their own criticism of the late archdeacon’s character.
‘The Lord Bishop’s wife told me – in strict confidence you understand – that her husband could not abide the man,’ Mrs. Transom said. ‘He was punctilious in his duties, but did them with such strictness that he caused offence to many clergy of good standing. The bishop had constantly to smooth ruffled feathers.’
‘I heard the same,’ her sister, Mrs. Wellborne added. ‘Mrs. Mannerly, whose husband is Rector of Great Binstead, said to me that her husband and Dr. Ross had a serious argument. The archdeacon criticised the Rev. Mr. Mannerly’s willingness to dine with certain of his parishioners.’
‘To dine?’ Adam said. ‘Surely that can be no sin?’
‘Dr. Ross made it so,’ she said. ‘The persons with whom Mr. Mannerly dined are but occasional attendees at the parish church. Most often they are to be found on a Sunday amongst the Wesleyan congregation. According to the archdeacon, Mr. Mannerly should have refused all invitations so long as the man continued to stray from the Anglican church. Yet Mrs. Mannerly said the man and his wife were fine company and kept a most generous table.’
‘He made fair to ruin the accord now existing between the Christians of this city and county,’ Lady Grandison said. ‘In place of tolerance and amity, he brought argument and confrontation. Many amongst the dissenting are good citizens, who contribute much to our society and prosperity. Indeed, my son, who is, as I have told you all before, most diligent in the improvement of the estate and its cultivation, speaks highly of certain Quaker merchants. Several such now both lend money and issue letters of credit to ease the inconvenience of conducting business in distant places. His agent may now buy and sell as easily in Antwerp or Edinburgh as in Ipswich. Their beliefs forbid them to lie or depart from plain speech. As a result, they have become trusted by all. He could not do without them.’
‘Yet, for all his rhetoric, Dr. Ross took good care to speak out only when protected by a pulpit,’ Miss Labelior announced. ‘Whenever any of the labouring sort caused disturbance in the streets, he was sure to stay safe inside. In his sermons, he was most vehement in condemning riot and bidding all to be content with their lot. Beyond the church walls, it was another matter.’
‘He was not alone in that. It is clear that a good many who feel themselves oppressed by masters and employers blame the parish clergy for siding with the rich and well-born,’ Miss Vastone added. ‘For any well-dressed clergyman to venture out when the mobs are in the streets would invite abuse, if not pelting with mud.’
‘There’s much in what you say, my dear,’ Mrs. Transom said. ‘Both the Acts to enclose the land, and the use of ingenious machines to replace labour, have thrown many men out of work. They blame those who benefit most from such changes. That includes the church. It cannot be otherwise, since squire and parson enjoy increases in their rents and tithes as a result.’
Adam sensed the conversation straying and moved to bring it back to the Archdeacon’s character. ‘Was Dr. Ross a friend to the poor and needy?’
The laughter that greeted this question was answer enough.
‘More than once, as I heard myself,’ said Miss Vastone, ‘he preached that poverty was nought but God’s punishment for laziness and shameless behaviour. Yet he also derided those who seek through education and encouragement to assist the poor to better themselves. His theme was ever that each was placed by God in his station in life and to change that was simple blasphemy.’
‘The truth is, sir,’ Mrs. Wellborne said, ‘Dr. Ross was more apt to condemn than give comfort.’
‘Even his own son…’ added Mrs. Transom, then shut her mouth abruptly at the glances of accusation directed at her.
‘His son, Madam? What of him.’ Adam spoke gently, aware that too much curiosity might cause them all to take fright.
Once more it needed Barbara, Lady Grandison, to break the silence, her words as much a command as a source of reassurance. ‘Oh, out with it, Rebecca. We all know, though some of you pretend you do not. We will not help this young man, as we agreed we would, by too great a delicacy. It is said, sir, that the archdeacon and his son had a most rancorous falling out of late. Mr. William Ross was brave enough to tell his father he would not follow him into the church. Thus his father disowned him and threw him out of the house. Young William has now disappeared, it is said. He did not even attend his father’s funeral.’
‘It was a foolish act,’ Pamela Wellborne murmured, ‘yet the boy is brave. It is said he is also handsome.’
‘Said by you,’ her sister snapped. ‘Brave and handsome young men will be your undoing one day, sister.’
‘Peace!’ Lady Grandison commanded. ‘Whether brave or not, it was honest. Mr. William Ross deserves credit for that. Now, Rebecca, finish what you have started.’
‘Dr. Ross was determined his only son should follow him,’ Mrs. Transom said, eager enough to continue her tale. ‘He imagined a dynasty of bishops and archbishops, all named Ross. The young man, unfortunately, has neither a calling to the cloth nor any interest in the learning needed to aspire to a diocese. He was sent to his father’s college at Oxford, but quite failed to attend to his lectures. After but one year, the Master sent him home, saying he was not suited. He did not drink excessively or carouse in the town, like many a son of noble parents. In the archdeacon's view his behaviour was worse. He spent his time with factory owners and the like, travelling even as far as Birmingham to talk with them. There he attended the science lectures given by Dr. Joseph Priestley, a notorious Unitarian. He also made the acquaintance of men such as Mr. Erasmus Darwin and Mr. Josiah Wedgwood. Both of them, as I am sure you must know, dissenters.’
‘But these are eminent men of science,’ Adam cried. ‘They are also men of the highest repute. Most fathers would be delighted to find a son who had the honour to be accepted by them.’
‘Not Dr. Ross,’ Miss Vanstone said. ‘He cared nothing for natural science or any other knowledge beyond theology. I have even heard him say the world would have been a better place had Sir Isaac Newton never been born.’
Adam merely shook his head at this. He knew Dr. Ross was a bigot, but this was rank stupidity.
‘Young Mr. William Ross wished to study natural science and mathematics,’ Mrs. Transom concluded. ‘From his earliest youth he had a rare skill with numbers. It seems he neglected his university studies only to pursue others better fitted to his mind.’
‘His father must have been furious,’ Mrs. Wellborne said, perhaps considering her sister was garnering too much attention. ‘I feel sure he would have lectured his son on the duty of obedience. Never mind his own wishes, he must do as his father required, like it or not.’
‘Besides,’ Miss Labelior added, appearing to choose her words with both care and considerable relish, ‘there was the other matter.’
‘That was just tittle-tattle,’ Miss Vanstone said.
‘Not at all, Letitia.’ Miss Labelior sounded affronted. ‘I was told by one well-placed to know.’
Adam prompted her gently. ‘The other matter?’
Miss Labelior favoured him with a warm smile and a playful pat on his thigh. He had given her back the limelight and she was going to take full advantage of it.
‘Mr. William Ross had formed an unsuitable attachment,’ she said, in the tones of one passing on a great secret. ‘The girl is, I believe, remarkably pretty and rather shapely…’ Both were plainly attributes Miss Labelior claimed for herself. Her quick look towards him told Adam he had best agree, which he did with a slight inclination of his head. ‘…and also rich enough. But…’ a dramatic pause worthy of Mrs. Siddons herself. ‘…h
er family are dissenters.’
‘If every young man who formed an unsuitable attachment was disinherited, Jane,’ Lady Grandison said, ‘only daughters would ever be mentioned in wills. I myself formed several in my youth. Had I had courage enough to stay with them, I dare say I would have married more happily – though perhaps with a lesser fortune than I enjoy today.’
Adam’s mind struggled with the idea of Lady Grandison ever lacking courage to do whatever she wanted. But this intervention had broken the pattern that led to such openness from the others – as she may well have intended – and quickly brought the topic to a close.
‘Well, Dr. Bascom?’ she said. ‘Have we given you information enough?’
Adam assured her this was indeed the case and added profuse thanks.
‘Good,’ Lady Grandison said. ‘Now it is your turn to answer questions. Tell us – in full detail I say – how you found the archdeacon’s body. What state was he in? What did you next do? Full answers, sir. We cannot have an eyewitness before us and go away lacking proper information in any respect. I will not allow it.’
At the inquest, Adam wished for a full questioning and had none. After these genteel and high-born ladies had left, he felt lucky to have at least most of his skin still about him. Never had he endured such an hour. But when he ventured to make complaint to his mother on the matter, he met with scant sympathy.
‘Those who choose to meet with dangerous creatures must expect a few scratches,’ she said. ‘You did well enough. You survived. Barbara Grandison has devoured many stronger men than you, I assure you. I would not doubt the others have consumed not a few as well. Do not assume that every woman with the title ‘Miss’ knows little of the ways of men or the pleasures they offer. Letitia Vanstone has had as many lovers as hats, they say. And Jane Labelior was especially grateful that you supplied her entrance line. If you had not, your skin might show yet more wounds than it does. No, Adam, I fear they liked you. Had I not been present, you would not have escaped several most pressing invitations to dine – ones it would be most imprudent for any young man to accept. Now, it is time you met Miss Sophia Lasalle, my new companion.’
An Unlamented Death: A Mystery Set in Georgian England (Mysteries of Georgian Norfolk Book 1) Page 11