A Murdered Earl

by Marina Oliver

  Mrs Dawson was in the drawing room, mending one of her husband's shirts. Sylvie bit her lip. She had promised to do that this morning, and instead she had been to the village.

  'Grandmama! I said I'd do that as soon as I returned. Do give it to me.'

  Mrs Dawson smiled at her. 'I had a few moments to spare,' she said comfortably. 'I can do it while I sit here.'

  Sylvie sat beside her and picked up a sock to darn. 'I saw Diana in the village,' she said carefully.

  'I suppose the dear girl was full of her plans to visit London next month?'

  'Well, yes, she is very excited,' Sylvie admitted, the wistful note in her voice obvious however much she tried to suppress it.

  'I wish we could do something more for you,' Mrs Dawson sighed, and let her hand rest for a moment on the girl's head. 'But there's no earthly hope of a season for you, my dear, and we can't even go to Bath for you to mix with some fashionable society.'

  Sylvie caught her hand and rubbed her cheek against it. 'I'm so sorry about the eggs!' she said. 'And I don't want a season, and Bath sounds odiously stuffy! But Diana told me about her older sister, Mary, you know, she's Lady Capstone now. She has three children and is looking for a nursery governess for the oldest girl. She lives in Oxford, and Diana said she thought she would be willing to give me the post!'

  'Child, you know there is no need for you to earn your own living. Just because I so regrettably lost my temper yesterday, doesn't mean we don't want you here with us.'

  'I know, but I do feel so much of a burden.'

  'You aren't, and we will not permit you to leave here, so no more about it, please.'

  'I don't like Luke having to work so hard, and send so much of his wages to keep me in idleness!' Sylvie protested.

  'He does not mind that, child, and it is a man's duty to provide for his family. Luke understands that. If things had been different, he would have supported you in France, given you a dowry, and you'd have thought no more about it.'

  'Perhaps not, but then he could have afforded it! He would not have had to work as a servant just to pay for my food. I want to help him, and you and my grandfather too. And if I were with Mary, who knows us all, it wouldn't be quite so dreadful as having to be a menial in someone else's house.'

  Mrs Dawson shook her head. 'No, child, and that is the last I want to hear about it. I forbid you to plague your grandfather about the matter, either. He has enough problems in the parish, you know, without this. Now I must go and visit Farmer Woodward's wife, and see if she needs any help. Her leg isn't improving, and I have a salve which might help it to heal.'

  'But Grandmama – '

  'No, I said. And if you wish to make amends for the eggs, my dear, you can finish this shirt for me.'

  She left the room, and Sylvie slumped in the chair. It was so unfair! Why should Luke be the only one who was allowed to work and try to make a new life for them? She could only dimly recall days of her early childhood, when they'd lived in a huge chateau and had dozens of servants, before Luke had been sent away to England to school. Since that time, it seemed, they'd lived in constant terror, and first her father had been taken away, then her mother had died, and she had almost suffered a vile degradation. She shuddered. Hard though she tried to forget that dreadful time, it still haunted her dreams. She'd been so thankful when Luke had found her, struggling to hold off the huge, brutal leader of the local revolutionary gang. Until then their village had been fairly quiet, and they'd hoped to emerge safely. But he – she couldn't even bear to think of his name – he had whipped up the hotheads in the village and fired the chateau. She thought of Luke's bravery in tackling a man so much bigger and stronger than himself, and their astonishment when Luke had knocked him down and instead of leaping to his feet, roaring like the bull he was, he'd sprawled lifeless, his neck broken as he'd hit his head on the mounting block. Luke had done that for her, and she would be eternally grateful. And somehow, whatever her grandmother said, she would find a way to help.

  ***

  There wasn't time to return to Clerkenwell, or try to contact Mrs Robinson, before Luke was due to meet Amos. He spent half an hour in a small coffee house, eating a mutton pie, for he doubted whether Louis would provide anything except liquid refreshment that evening. He was determined to keep his wits about him, and food in his stomach would, he hoped, absorb the alcohol.

  Amos was already there when Luke strolled into the tavern. Luke beckoned for ale, and reflected that his meagre savings would soon be used up.

  'What's happening?' Luke asked.

  Amos grinned. 'Such a lot o' botheration! The Countess is demanding that 'is lordship takes ship at once to Barbados, an' brings 'er precious Percy's body 'ome.'

  Luke chuckled. 'And leave his new position? I don't suppose he's very willing.'

  'From what Joseph said, 'e moans a deal more about the chance o' bringin' yellow fever back inter Redditch House than the expense, and 'e grumbles about that often enough. 'E's turnin' out as mean as 'is father, an' all.'

  'How's that? Has he stopped his mother's allowance?'

  'Probably. 'E wants ter cut back everywhere else,' Amos said, sobering. 'Suky said 'e's give orders to spend less in kitchen, an' Mrs Grimsby's bin told Joseph'll be butler when needed, 'e don't want a new 'un 'ired in Drummond's place. Old Gillitty's gotta go, says 'e's too old ter do a full day's work.'

  'He's dismissed him?'

  'Wi'out a pension, too. Now whatever the old Earl was like 'e'd never 'ave treated 'is servants like that, not if they'd bin wi' 'im as long as Gillitty 'ad. Poor old devil's lost, nowhere ter go, an' talkin' o' throwin' hisself in river.'

  'Where is he?'

  Amos grinned. 'In 'ayloft, 'idden away, an' Suky meks sure 'e gets plenty o' vittles.'

  'He can't stay there for ever,' Luke mused, wondering if the ancient coachman had overheard his meeting with Jenny earlier. But he doubted that Gillitty would be a danger to him. He smothered a laugh. The old man would have had some unexpected entertainment if he'd accepted Jenny's invitation.

  'Joseph's goin' ter see Drummond, ask 'im if the Duke's got a place for poor Gillitty too.'

  'If he hasn't, let me know,' Luke suggested. He couldn't think of any of his acquaintances who needed an aged coachman, but his aunt had all sorts of friends who might be able to help. He knew it was none of his business, but he felt obscurely responsible. It was his hand which had, all unwittingly, given the old Earl that fatal chocolate, and so brought about this unsettling state.

  'Tell young Jenny, shall I?' Amos said, grinning. 'Yer'll be seein' 'er regular, no doubt.'

  Luke sighed. Probably all the servants knew about his tryst in the hayloft, even if Gillitty hadn't been the one to tell Amos. Jenny would be hinting to all the other maids, even if she didn't boast outright that she was seeing him secretly. No doubt she was exaggerating, too. Women were probably like men in that respect, flaunting their conquests, or imagined conquests, amongst their friends.

  'What about the spare key to the coach house?' he asked. 'Have you found it?'

  Amos shook his head. 'There was one, but no one knows where it is. Drummond might 'ave it. Gillitty says it used ter be in pantry, 'ung up wi' all the rest, but it ain't there now.'

  'Never mind, it probably isn't important.'

  He called for more ale, and soon afterwards left Amos, arranging that if the groom discovered anything else he would leave a message with the tapster, to arrange another meeting.

  'Won't I be tellin' Jenny?' Amos asked slyly.

  'You know women can't keep their mouths shut,' Luke said, grinning at him. 'I don't want the Earl to find out, or you'd be the next one to be thrown out, for consorting with me!'

  Amos looked serious for a moment, then nodded. 'Best warn young Jenny too,' he muttered. 'Though I doubt any on us'll be stayin' if we can find jobs anywhere else.'

  ***

  Louis gave Luke as much detail as he could about the Viscount's friends before they arrived.

&nbs
p; 'Robert Merriweather is five and twenty, and has already run through one fortune, if rumour is to be believed,' he said as he offered Luke a glass of wine. 'He plays cards, not very successfully, but always seems to come about before he's completely rolled up. I think he has some big house in the north, perhaps the rents keep him afloat. On the other hand, perhaps not. There have been a few unpleasant rumours of young men new in London being fleeced.'

  'He sounds the right sort of companion for the precious Augustus, though I've never heard him suspected of cheating. Probably hasn't the nerve for it.'

  'The other is Sir Henry Bawtry. He's from the north too, a bit older, and he always seems to have plenty of money. I heard his mother was some weathy mill owner's chit, or it may be that he doesn't gamble so heavily. He's a bruising rider, and a handy pugilist, I'm told. Not the sort of man to meet on a dark night if you've offended him.'

  'Thanks for the warning. I have no intention of making more enemies.'

  Louis shook his head. 'You are asking about dangerous matters, my friend. And we don't know who the danger comes from. It sounds as though your newly elevated Earl could have poisoned his Papa. If he hears about your enquiries, he could attack you.'

  'If he has the nerve.'

  'He may not have the courage to fight in the open, Luc, but if he has used poison once he will be ready to use underhand methods again. I mean to give you a false name, for your own safety. So remember to answer to the name of Arnaud.'

  'Would you like me to wear false whiskers too?'

  'You jest, but you must take proper precautions. Enough of our compatriots have been murdered in France.'

  'I know, and I will be careful.'

  They had little time for more before the two guests arrived. Merriweather was a short, dark man, who had adopted the Incroyable fashion of long, raggedly cut hair, an enormous scarlet silk cravat, a scarlet and green striped waistcoat, and scarlet striped stockings. To enhance this brilliance he wore gold hoop earrings large enough to fit over a curtain pole. He had small, sharp eyes and his gaze was roving restlessly round the room the moment he entered.

  Sir Henry was much larger, but with muscle, not fat. His dress was plainer, but the frockcoat and breeches were cut by a master, and fitted his large frame perfectly. He wore several rings and so far as Luke could judge the stones were of the finest quality. Several fobs and a quizzing glass were attached to his person, and on entering the room he raised the glass languidly and surveyed Luke for a long minute.

  'We have not met before,' he stated flatly, and Luke suppressed the desire to utter loud thanks for that blessing.

  'Arnaud has only recently arrived in this country. From the West Indies,' Louis interposed smoothly. 'We knew one another well in the old days. Will you take some wine, or do you prefer brandy? Fortunately we can still obtain brandy, so we Frenchmen don't have to forego all our comforts.'

  They were soon seated round the table, and for an hour concentrated on the play. The guests must be relaxed before they were induced to gossip about their friends. Then Louis called for a break.

  'I have provided a little refreshment,' he said, ringing the bell for his servant.

  The man brought in several trays of food which he placed on a side table, and Louis invited his guests to help themselves. This was when he and Luke planned to introduce Augustus into the conversation.

  Louis began. 'I believe the new Earl of Redditch is a friend of yours,' he said to Merriweather while urging him to take more of the chicken wings.

  'I met his brother in Barbados, a few months ago,' Luke offered mendaciously, and took some slices of cold beef.

  'He died out there, yellow fever, I heard,' Merriweather said. 'They got the news the morning the old man died, so I'm told.'

  'The same day?' Luke pretended surprise. 'How dreadful. And his father's death was unexpected, too, they say.'

  'But decidedly not unwelcome,' Merriweather replied. 'The old man kept poor Augustus shockingly short of funds. He owed me a considerable sum.'

  'I heard it was poison. A shocking affair, if true. Does he know who was responsible? Had he many enemies?' Louis asked, replenishing the glasses.

  'The man had a seizure,' Sir Henry asserted. 'Talk of poison's foolish. and so are the rumours. Just malicious gossip. Because Augustus didn't get on with his father doesn't mean he killed him. Most of us can't stand our parents.'

  'Are people saying he killed his father?' Luke asked, allowing his surprise to show. 'Do they have cause?'

  'Jealousy, and maybe hope of their own advancement,' Merriweather said, chortling. 'It was his cousin, feeble Frederick, who was bleating about it last night.'

  'His cousin?' Luke was genuinely surprised. 'But what could he know? Does he live in the same house? Or is he speculating, being provocative?'

  Sir Henry shook his head. 'I believe he's living with his wife's family now.'

  'He has no house of his own in London?'

  'None anywhere. He'd just been turned out of Redditch Court, and has been complaining about that for days.'

  Merriweather sniggered. 'The whole of London must have heard his grievances. But the wretched man's always complaining whenever I've met him.'

  'He sounds a peevish sort of fellow,' Louis said. 'Didn't he get on well with his cousin?'

  'Not at all,' Sir Henry replied. 'He's always short of the ready, thinks he's entitled to be supported, and knows full well Augustus is even less inclined to do that than his uncle was. He's the heir now, until Augustus marries and gets one for himself, and I imagine he believes that if he can foist the blame on Augustus he might inherit instead.'

  'Get Augustus hanged, then Frederick can inherit. If you ask me that sluttish wife of his has put him up to it,' Merriweather opined. 'Augustus hasn't the nerve to kill.'

  'But he was angry with his father, and in debt, you say,' Louis asked. 'Might he have been feeling desperate enough?'

  'I don't think he'd have been cursing him quite so freely if that was what he planned,' Sir Henry said judiciously. 'At least, not if he had the slightest sense.'

  'But does he? Have sense, I mean? And the night before he was telling all his grievances to anyone who'd listen,' Merriweather added. 'It's a moot point which of them was becoming the more tedious with their constant moans.'

  With a slight raise of his eyebrows Louis glanced at Luke, and Luke nodded slightly. He had all the information he could expect from these two, and to persist might arouse suspicions. Smoothly he changed the subject and began to ask where he might find suitable entertainment while he was in London.

  Soon they drifted back to the table, and several hours later when they reluctantly broke up the party Luke, to his surprise, rose considerably richer than when he had sat down. It had been a profitable evening in more ways than one.

  'I hadn't known Frederick was here in London,' he said to Louis when the others had departed. 'I must discover where he is lodging, or rather where his wife's mother lives. I believe there is only a mother, no other family.'

  'I can do that for you,' Louis offered. 'Could your Augustus have done the deed?'

  'The chocolate was left on the landing for a while where he might have found it.' Luke explained what had happened. 'It depends on whether young Maggie was with him as Jenny thinks, or not. She denies it, but she might be lying.'

  'So his cousin has no proof, just wishful thinking.'

  'I don't see how he could know anything about it. But I need to talk to him. Thank you for this evening. I think it has been helpful, and it certainly helped my pockets.'

  'But I advise you against accepting any of Merriweather's invitations,' Louis said seriously. 'Perhaps it was unwise of us to imply that you are wealthy.'

  Luke chuckled. 'I only wish I did have extensive estates in the West Indies like you do!'

  'Take care, though, my friend. He might believe you young and innocent, ripe for his ministrations.'

  'Are you insinuating it wasn't my skill with cards that has enriched me?
For shame! But don't be concerned. I shall vanish from the polite world as suddenly as I entered it,' Luke said cheerfully. 'If they ask, make some excuse. I am travelling to the far north, the wilds of Scotland, or have returned to the Americas, and am desolated at not giving them the opportunity to pluck me. Promise I will return, in five or ten years. By then I'll have a grey beard and be unrecognisable.'

  He left soon afterwards and walked back to Clerkenwell. The number of people he needed to talk to was growing. At least he knew where to find them, or could discover it. Tomorrow he would try to see Mrs Robinson and Drummond, and later, if Louis succeeded in discovering his direction, perhaps Frederick Redditch as well.

  ***

  Chapter 9

  'The temple she mentioned must be the Temple of the Muses,' Uncle Joshua said.

  'Just what is that,' Luke asked, intrigued, 'and what kind of muses can one find there?'

  'James Lackington's bookshop. It's one of the largest shops in London. I've bought all my books from him for the past fifteen or more years, since he first opened. If it is the same Mr Silbermann I've heard of, I even met him a few times at City banquets. He lives quite close, on the east side of the Square.'

  'I'll go and see her in the afternoon. At Redditch House she always took a rest then, before cooking dinner.'

  'I know Mr Silbermann's sister, she's married to David Rosen, the goldsmith who lives in Cheapside. And you'd best make haste. It's almost afternoon now,' Aunt Caroline said.

  Luke put his arm about her shoulders and hugged her. 'I know,' he said ruefully. 'You are an angel to put up with me coming in so late and sleeping half the morning.'

  His aunt looked fierce. 'If it helps to find who did kill the Earl, why should I object?'

  'Did you discover anything of use yesterday?' Uncle Joshua asked. He had come home from his shop for an hour, saying business was slow that day, but Luke suspected it was really because he was intrigued by his own investigations.

  'Mrs Robinson's new post, from Jenny, and that no one knows where the spare key to the coach house is, from Amos. That reminds me, old Gillitty's been dismissed. The new Earl is being parsimonious with his spending on the house and servants. If you know of anyone who needs a coachman, he's old but very reliable. I'd be grateful if you could recommend him.'