Letter from a Dead Man

by Dawn Harris

  ‘Mr Reevers?’ I echoed in disbelief.

  ‘Well, I think it must be so. Before Mr Reevers went to London, he and Piers were always out together.’

  I could not believe Piers and Mr Reevers spent time together; they had nothing in common, and the very idea made me shiver, but Marguerite didn’t notice, all her thoughts being centred on her new gown. As she hated crossing the Solent, her clothes were made at a highly fashionable, luxurious establishment in London, and delivered by a senior seamstress, who made any tiny adjustments necessary. These were few in number, as the head of this enterprise sensibly had Marguerite’s measurements checked every year.

  We went up to her dressing room where she held this stunning silk creation against her body, and I saw the material was the exact same shade of violet blue as her eyes. ‘It’s absolutely heavenly,’ I said. ‘You will set every male heart pounding.’

  She gave a little giggle of pleasure. ‘Do you really think so?’

  I looked at her and laughed. ‘You know perfectly well you will.’ When she put on the matching hat, I said, quite truthfully, that I had never seen her in anything quite so fetching. It also gave me the perfect chance to tell her of my visit to Portsmouth. ‘I must purchase a decent hat for the wedding or I shall look a positive frump beside you,’ I declared cheerfully.

  She never liked me to be away and when, on returning downstairs, we saw Vincent coming out of the library, she told him my plans in a most dejected manner.

  ‘I shall be back in a week,’ I said. ‘You’ll barely notice my absence.’

  ‘On the contrary, you will be greatly missed,’ Vincent insisted, and turning to Marguerite he put his hand lightly on her arm. ‘Won’t she, my dear.’

  ‘I always miss Drusilla when she’s not here,’ she answered simply. ‘I don’t know why it is, but everyone seems to be leaving the Island at present. First Giles, then Mr Reevers, and now you and your uncle.’ But a moment later her eyes lit up. ‘Still, Giles will be back soon.’

  I walked down to the stables rather than wait for Orlando to be brought up to the house, and saw Leatherbarrow sitting in the sun. He stood up as I approached, and I waved him back onto his seat. ‘You should be taking it easy.’

  ‘I’m almost as good as new now, my lady.’

  I smiled. ‘I see you’ve rid yourself of your bandages.’

  ‘My memory came back too, like the doctor said it would.’ And he told me how he came to be attacked. ‘I was passing the track leading to Dell Farm when I heard someone yelling for assistance. I turned down the track, but couldn’t see anyone, so I dismounted, and I was just looping the reins round a branch, when I was struck down. It’s not much help I’m afraid, my lady.’

  ‘No,’ I agreed. After a moment, I asked, ‘Can you remember which gentlemen were out when you set off for the yacht?’

  His brow furrowed in thought and it was a minute or two before he answered. ‘The horses belonging to Mr Vincent and Mr Piers were in the stables, my lady. And Mr Reevers set off for Norton House ten minutes before I left.’

  ‘Really?’ Norton House was a mile or so past Dell Farm. Thinking aloud, I said, ‘In that case, he should have passed Dell Farm before you.’

  ‘I expect he had some business elsewhere first. It was lucky he found me my lady, or I don’t think I’d be here now.’

  After dinner, leaving my aunt, uncle and cousin to spend a quiet family evening together, I went up to my bedchamber. My clothes were packed ready for the trip, but I opened one of the bags and stuffed in some things I’d kept locked in a drawer. Then, going down to the workroom, I went over my plans for meeting the Gosport man, thinking of the busy days ahead of us.

  On the first of those days, my uncle and I, accompanied by Mudd, enjoyed a leisurely journey to Cowes. We had, with some difficulty, persuaded my aunt there was no point taking my maid, or my uncle’s valet, just for a couple of days, when neither of them liked crossing the water, and would only be a nuisance if they were ill.

  In Cowes we put up at the best inn, arranging for the stabling of the horses until our return. After an excellent dinner, we took a stroll around the narrow streets of the town before retiring. But I had forgotten how noisy an inn could be, what with horses and people passing by, and the shouts of late arrivals in the stable yard.

  Sleep came eventually, and we were up very early in the morning, making our way down to the harbour soon after daybreak. The sea was a little choppy, but a fair wind made for an easy passage, and a pleasant one too with the waves sparkling in the sunshine. Standing on deck, I watched the Island’s church spires and green hills slowly receding into the distance. Leaving always filled me with sadness, and I knew I could never live anywhere else.

  I had written to bespeak rooms at the ‘George’ in the High Street, and on our arrival we were shown to spotless bedchambers. Our appetites sharpened by the sea crossing, we ordered a meal, and while that was being prepared, I unpacked my bags myself, declining the services of a maid servant. A substantial cold collation was set out in our private parlour, and after hunger had been appeased, my uncle leant back in his chair, sighing with satisfaction. ‘Well, I must say, I was ready for that.’

  Laughing, I said, ‘I wonder why sea air makes one so ravenous?’

  ‘I don’t know, but if all the meals here are up to this standard, I shall find some excuse to come again.’ The waiter came in to remove the dishes, returning immediately with coffee, and once he’d gone, my uncle asked, ‘What do you mean to do now, Drusilla? Shouldn’t we find this inn first?’

  ‘Mudd can do that, Uncle. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.’ Acknowledging ruefully, ‘Being so tall, people do tend to notice me. In any case, having visited Gosport with father on several occasions I know the town well, although I don’t recall this particular inn. It’s important that we walk straight to it tomorrow, rather than stumble around in the dark looking for it.’

  He didn’t miss my use of the word ‘we,’ and eyed me thoughtfully before speaking. ‘Drusilla, I understood Mudd was to meet this man, and arrange a suitable place for us to speak to him.’

  Finishing my coffee, I put my napkin on the table. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, Uncle. The problem,’ I murmured, unconsciously pushing some crumbs together on the tablecloth, ‘is that there is nowhere he and I could meet. Every establishment is either unsuitable for me as a woman, or for him as a smuggler.’ I spoke in apologetic tones, having realised this from the outset, but had not said so in case he refused to escort me. ‘I do have a solution. Only I’m afraid you won’t approve.’

  CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN

  A long silence ensued as he took in all I had said. ‘You mean to go into this inn, don’t you.’

  I smiled, grateful for his quick comprehension. ‘I must speak to this man myself, Uncle.’

  He looked at me, greatly troubled. ‘Drusilla, you are a sensible woman. If you went into an inn full of drunken sailors, workmen and probably thieves, everyone would gape at you, and our informant would disappear in a trice.’

  ‘Yes, I realise that. But a man in old clothes would be acceptable, surely? If you put on those clothes I asked you to bring, and Mudd wore-----’

  ‘No, Mudd and I wouldn’t cause a stir.’ His whole face relaxed, and he gave a hearty chuckle. ‘Do you know Drusilla, for one awful moment, I thought you meant--------’ He stopped, for my face told him his first reaction had been the right one.

  ‘I’ll be wearing my father’s shabbiest clothes.’ He stared at me, dumbfounded. ‘It’ll be all right, Uncle. My height will help, and luckily I have a slender figure. I’ll tie my hair back and wear a large hat, although I don’t suppose there will be much light in such a place.’

  He leant forward, his elbows on the table, his brows drawn together in obvious anxiety. ‘I understand why you want to do this, but you cannot have thought what it will be like. The oaths, the coarse jests, the drunken behaviour, the - er - loose women. You would be greatly shocked.’
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  ‘Yes, I’ve thought of all that. I shall pay no attention to it. I----’

  ‘Pay no attention,’ he spluttered. ‘My dear child, you can have no notion of-----’

  ‘I will ignore it Uncle, I promise you. I must hear for myself what this man has to tell us. How else can I judge what manner of man he is, or if he is speaking the truth?’

  He shook his head from side to side in despair. ‘I beg of you to reconsider, Drusilla.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Uncle,’ I said kindly, ‘but my mind is made up.’

  He tried another tack. ‘I dread to think what your aunt would say-----’

  I smiled. ‘I have no intention of telling her. And I strongly recommend you don’t either.’

  That brought forth a short laugh, followed by a resigned sigh. ‘Your father always said you were headstrong, now I see what he meant.’ Reaching across the table, he put his hand over mine. ‘But will you not be afraid, my dear? This could be very dangerous---’

  ‘I don’t think it will be. He’s only interested in the money.’

  ‘Have you considered the possibility that he knows nothing? That we might be set upon and robbed of the five hundred pounds?’

  ‘I have thought of that. But I have father’s pistols with me. He taught me to shoot and I’m not afraid to use them.’

  ‘I’ve brought pistols too,’ he admitted. ‘And a knife, which I gave to Mudd. I trust we won’t need any of it, but I must warn you Drusilla, that shooting a man is not the same as firing at a target in the orchard.’

  I nodded, being aware of that myself. ‘I will do it if I have to.’ Sighing, he asked where I had hidden the money and I told him, ‘In a bag round my waist.’

  My uncle chuckled. ‘You are a most resourceful woman.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ I murmured with a smile. I had been very worried that I would not be able to persuade my uncle to let me go with him and Mudd, but with that fear overcome, my hopes rose considerably. Now I might, at long last, find out who was responsible for the murders.

  Having despatched Mudd to look for the Gosport alehouse, my uncle and I set off for the bootmaker my father had patronised. In this fashionable shop, a style was chosen, measurements carefully taken, and the riding boots promised for Thursday morning.

  ‘It wouldn’t do to go home without them,’ my uncle said, his eyes twinkling. ‘Your aunt is no fool, you know.’

  That was very true, and he reminded me I needed to buy a hat, my excuse for coming to Portsmouth. I promised to do so the following day, as I could see he was tired, and he did no more than purchase some perfume for my aunt and cousin, while I bought my aunt a pair of gloves, and a novel for Lucie.

  Back at the inn, he went to rest in his bedchamber, while I sat by the window of our private parlour watching the comings and goings in the busy street. Ordinary citizens out taking the air, sailors going to and from ships and taverns, tradesmen selling their wares, besides horsemen, carriages and carts clattering by. Urchins dodged in and out of the throng, Naval officers walked purposefully in the direction of the harbour, and I was laughing at a young man’s attempt to shake off a stray terrier yapping at his heels, when I saw Mudd returning.

  When he tapped on the door, I bade him enter, instantly demanding, ‘Did you find the place, John?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. The New Inn is down a narrow alley off Middle Street, close to the harbour, and it’s full of sailors, like my father said. I did look around the town for a more suitable meeting place, but----’

  ‘There isn’t anywhere this man and I could both go,’ I finished for him. When I told him how I meant to solve that difficulty, his eyes almost came out of their sockets.

  ‘But, my lady, you can’t----’

  ‘I wish it wasn’t necessary,’ I admitted with a rueful grimace. ‘But I must speak to this man myself.’ I pointed out I wouldn’t be there long, that it would be dark, and my uncle knew about it.

  ‘But - but, this is a common alehouse, my lady,’ he objected, convinced I had not understood.

  ‘I shall keep my head down and my ears shut.’ And I closed the subject with a smile. ‘Now that you’re back, I should like to look at the harbour. Wait here while I collect my pelisse.’

  Still shocked, he bowed. ‘Very good, my lady.’

  I liked Portsmouth despite the dirty streets and raucous, drunken sailors rolling out of the taverns at all hours of the day. The town bustled with life, and father and I had loved to watch the ships sail in and out of the beautiful harbour, which was large enough, he had said, to shelter the whole of our Navy. The last time we had come here, the sea and sky had been so grey we could hardly tell where one ended and the other began. Father would have loved it today, I thought, with the sea glistening in the sunlight, giving the whole harbour a most attractive appearance.

  I spent an hour watching an array of vessels making their way in and out and around the harbour. Small boats taking sailors and officers to Navy ships at anchor, watermen ferrying passengers across the harbour to Gosport, wherries, fishing boats, a customs cutter, and a frigate sailing out to sea, its sails filling with the breeze.

  As I watched, I told Mudd the arrangements for the following day, and I was about to return to the inn when he said, ‘There’s something I ought to tell you, my lady. In Gosport I bumped into a groom in the employ of a Naval gentleman in Yarmouth, and when they were setting out to cross the Solent this morning he saw Mr Reevers mooring Mr Giles’s yacht in the Yar.’

  My heart began to pound and I took a deep breath. ‘Was Mr Giles with him?’

  ‘No, my lady. He was alone.’

  So many awful possibilities came into my head that I reached the inn without any clear recollection of the streets we had walked through. Why had Mr Reevers come back without Giles? What did it mean? Was he still in France? I didn’t want to think about that, but I couldn’t help it. Yet, I couldn’t allow myself to dwell on such things, at least not until I returned from Gosport, for I would need all my wits about me when I met this man.

  Finding my uncle much refreshed by his rest, I did not mention Mr Reevers, for there was nothing to be gained by doing so. We enjoyed an excellent dinner, eating rather later than was our custom, our conversation inevitably revolving around tomorrow’s meeting.

  ‘Drusilla, how are we to leave the ‘George’ in those old clothes?’

  ‘We’ll sneak out the back way, by the servants’ door. Mudd says it’s dark there, and he’ll tell us when it’s safe.’

  He admitted in a constrained manner, ‘You seem to have thought of everything, my dear.’

  ‘I wish that was true. When I was out earlier, I was idly observing the very proper attentions Portsmouth gentlemen exhibited towards the ladies, when it suddenly struck me how very odd it would look tomorrow, when I’m wearing father’s old clothes, if you handed me into, or helped me out of the boat, when we cross the harbour. Or for that matter, if you opened a door, allowing me to pass through first, or put a chair for me at the alehouse, assuming they have chairs in such a place.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ He looked at me in horror. ‘Nor can I address you as Drusilla.’

  I laughed. ‘Indeed not. I thought Andrew would be suitable - with Drew being the first syllable of Drusilla.’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea.’

  Another thought occurred to me. ‘Heavens, I’d better instruct Mudd not to call me, “my lady.”’

  My uncle started to laugh. ‘Promise me one thing, Drusilla.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That I can be there when you tell him. I want to see his face.’ But Mudd, having already foreseen the problem, mentioned it himself, much to my uncle’s disappointment.

  My uncle retired early, although I wondered how he would sleep through the noise from the street. I sat by the window going over my preparations for the following evening to ensure I’d missed nothing of importance, but my fears for Giles kept intruding into my thoughts.

 
That night I did not sleep well, even when the noise abated, and I woke early, disturbed by someone shouting in the street. Looking out the window, I saw a water cart stationed outside, and a large woman haranguing the man selling the water for, in her view, charging too much.

  Yawning, I turned away, decided any attempt to sleep now would be pointless, and rang for some hot water. Having washed and dressed, I went down to breakfast, to find my uncle awaiting me. Thankfully he’d slept like a baby, and after breakfast we strolled out to the shops, attended by Mudd, to search for my new hat. I wanted something cream or white, to go with my pale green gown, and found the very thing at the third establishment I tried. A large and very expensive creation, with a long white feather, which suited me rather well. Very different, I thought, as I tried it on, from the battered old hat I was to wear that evening, and a considerable improvement on the one I had originally bought for the wedding. This one would please both my aunt and Julia.

  I sent Mudd back to the inn with the hatbox, telling him he could do as he pleased until five, when we were to prepare for the evening ahead. Meanwhile, my uncle and I strolled round the ramparts, and had the good fortune to witness a ship of the line leaving port.

  ‘Look at the speed our sailors scramble up the rigging,’ I declared in some awe.

  ‘Yes,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Let’s hope they’re faster than the French.’ Despite his French birth, he was an Englishman at heart; even more so since his recent experiences.

  Luckily the sun was out, for there was a cool north westerly wind blowing. We ambled along the spacious Grand Parade where, observing the grime and dust gathering along the hem of my walking dress, I remarked that, while I liked Portsmouth, the state of the streets left much to be desired. Concerned that my uncle should not tire himself out, we returned to the inn in good time for nuncheon, after which I persuaded him to rest for an hour or two.