The Ghost of Glendale

by Kleinman, Natalie

  “Well of course! Why ever didn’t I think of that? You shall come with me!”

  “Just what I was thinking myself. I shall write to Fergus that I am further delayed.”

  “Yes, do that. I must write also. Send an announcement of the betrothal to the Morning Post. Lord, doesn’t that sound grown up!”

  “Well it’s time you did.”

  “Yes, old man.” Both laughed out loud and went about their various tasks.

  Duncan was surprised to receive a note from Phoebe at around midday. They had ridden that morning as usual and he’d had no expectation of seeing her until the following day so when he read, Please come this afternoon if you are able, I have something I would show you, his curiosity was considerably aroused. He went straight away to tell Rupert where he was going. His host, anxious to see Lydia, kept him company, “for they leave in two days and we cannot follow immediately as I have one or two commitments here.”

  They joined the ladies in the drawing room at Glendale. Phoebe asked to be excused and withdrew with Duncan to her mother’s sanctum.

  “So after I returned from our ride this morning I changed quickly into my day dress for I was anxious to look once more at the papers while I still have the opportunity.”

  Duncan made no mention of the fact that he too would be going to town as it was obvious she had something of great importance to tell him. His news could wait.

  “Tell me, what have you found?”

  “It’s in Simon’s hand,” she said, passing a sheet of paper to him. “We missed it before because it was stuck to the back of another document. I think age and damp must have welded them together. Only as I turned it over to lay it face down could I see what appeared to be a wrinkle at the edge but which turned out to be this,” Phoebe said, pointing dramatically to the document in Duncan’s hand.

  I know not how I shall survive this day. I had been away from home and returned to find Agnes’s maid waiting for me. She was extremely anxious and had been here above two hours. ‘My mistress bade me give this into your hand, sir’ she said, and left. Agnes asked that I meet her in our usual place. A storm had blown up and I raced from the house, fearful that she had been for so long at its mercy. My fears were only too well founded. My beloved is dead, taken by our very own tree which had been struck by lightning and cut her down. I blame myself for had I not been from home I might have received her note in time to prevent such a tragedy. I carried her broken body back to Glendale and she is with me now. I write this as I wait for her family, for I have sent them a message and expect them at any moment. Oh Agnes, my dearest girl, how shall I live without you!

  Duncan raised his eyes to see Phoebe’s own filled with tears.

  “It is no wonder he cannot rest,” she said. “He feels responsible for her death. It is probably just what he told her parents. In their grief I can imagine how they censured him. It would have been enough to confirm his guilt in his own mind. We cannot know for sure, of course, and I doubt Simon will have written of this again except for his poem which he has left as a clue. I shall continue searching but I fear we will find nothing more.”

  “I think you are right. Will anything be gained, do you think, from noting all the places your family coat of arms appears?”

  “A hopeless task! It is everywhere. No wonder the secret has never been disclosed,” Phoebe said.

  “You will not give up?”

  “Never. I promised him, you see.”

  It was obviously still not the time to tell Phoebe that he too was to go to London.

  “Rupert has just shown us a copy of the notice he has today sent to the Morning Post,” Lydia said when Phoebe and Duncan returned to the drawing room. “I cannot believe that I will be Mrs Brendon in just a few weeks,” she added, her cheeks becomingly flushed.

  “We are to be married in London, for Clarissa and her husband reside there and Max has expressed a willingness to undertake the journey. If you are not called back to Scotland, Duncan, perhaps you will be able to remain until the wedding. I would have you play the role of best man.”

  “I should be honoured to do so. I have already advised Fergus that I do not know when I shall return.”

  “Then it is settled.”

  Phoebe looked from one to the other. There was a realisation that Armstrong’s presence would greatly increase the enjoyment of her own visit, for it could not be imagined that she would not see a great deal of him.

  “Are either of you gentlemen familiar with the capital,” Sophia enquired. “My son in law is a member of White’s and visits many other gentlemanly establishments unknown to us. I am sure he will be more than happy to show you the way.”

  “We would be grateful indeed, Baroness Talbot. I was saying to Mr Brendon only a short while ago that I haven’t been to London since my university days and I daresay much will have changed.”

  “Where do you plan to stay? I take it you do not have a house in London.”

  “No indeed. Mr Armstrong and I shall engage rooms at Fenton’s Hotel or perhaps Grenier’s but we would certainly be grateful for any assistance from Mr erm...?”

  “Sir George. Sir George Denby,” Sophia said, preening a little.

  “We would be grateful for any assistance Sir George might be able to render us,” Rupert said. There was no need to inform his future mama in law or indeed his bride that they were hoping to visit Jackson’s Saloon for a little sparring or indulge in some fencing if the opportunity was to be had. Women were strange about these things and he thought it best not to mention them.

  Duncan smiled at Phoebe as they left. “And you will meet me tomorrow as usual? It will be our last opportunity for some time.”

  “Of course. I shall look forward to it.”

  The ladies had departed for London a few days earlier and Duncan and Rupert were having a quiet game of cards at Cranford with Max and Edward. The convivial atmosphere altered somewhat when Hugh Rushmore was announced and Sir Edward rose without exchanging greetings, and with apologies to his host said it was time for him to leave.

  “I am so sorry, Rupert. Had I know Marcham was here I would never have come. It is the same with my father. I just pray that ultimately Miss Marcham will be able to bring about a reconciliation.”

  “What’s that? Reconciliation? You must be all about in your head if you think that will ever happen,” Max snorted.

  “No such thing, Father. Phoebe is doing her utmost to discover the reason for the rift and hopes to bring to an end to this two hundred year feud. Isn’t that right, Duncan?”

  “Yes, she has discovered some clues amongst her mother’s papers and is closer to a solution I think.”

  “I hope I have been of some assistance for I was able to furnish her with some of our own documents,” Hugh said. “Not that I mentioned it to my father.”

  “No, I believe Miss Marcham hasn’t informed Sir Edward of your meetings either. Well, Hugh, now that you are here would you like to take his place at the card table.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Duncan and Rupert were for a while able to put their respective ladies out of their minds and when Max retired to bed the three younger men abandoned the cards to enjoy some whisky which Duncan had brought with him from Scotland. With Phoebe so many miles away and Duncan not for the present seeing Hugh in the role of rival, they spent the time in good humour until the early hours. The next morning Rupert awoke with a severe headache, much as he had on his friend’s previous visit.

  “But I do not complain. The whisky was excellent!”

  The ladies meanwhile were settling into the house in Chesterfield Street. The journey had been tedious and poor Lydia had taken to her bed and was still to be found there with the shutters drawn. All changed the following day when Clarissa paid them a visit. She was not accompanied by her husband and Lydia, though still pale, sent her maid to the morning room with a message begging her sister to remain, for she would get dressed and be with them in no time. She was as good as her
word and after the two girls embraced was adjured to lie on the couch with her feet up. Clarissa it seemed had news.

  “I waited until you were home for I wanted to tell you in person.” She turned wide-eyed to Sophia. “Mama, Lydia, Phoebe. I am with child.”

  She laughed as Lydia attempted to exchange places with her.

  “I am not ill, dearest. In fact, I have never felt so well and seem to have acquired a new level of energy.”

  “Well if you do not do as your sister says you will obey your mama at least, and I am telling you to sit down,” Sophia said sternly to cover her emotion though nobody was fooled for one moment.

  “Here, Mama, take this,” Clarissa said, removing a handkerchief from her reticule and passing it to her parent who took it gratefully, laughing and sniffing at the same time.

  “Well I never. One daughter in the family way, another soon to be married. What a year this is turning out to be.”

  “I think, dearest Aunt, that it is perhaps you who should be reclining for you are clearly overcome,” Phoebe said with a laugh.

  They sat, all four, and Sophia was heard to remark several times, “Well I never, well I never.”

  During the coming days the carriage was called for several times to take the ladies shopping. The proprietors of the several establishments which enjoyed their custom remembered Baroness Talbot well, for she had spared no expense in purchasing the best for her elder daughter some few months previously. They were assiduous in their attention and knew well how to assess their clientele. While she demanded assistance, Baroness Talbot was not one who liked to be fawned upon. One lady, overly anxious to please, made the mistake of commending her taste in a way that Sophia found unctuous in the extreme. “I shall not be shopping there again, you may be sure,” she told Lydia. It was with no little regret that the crepe was left behind, together with that young lady’s vision of how it might look when made up.

  “Do not distress yourself, my dear. We shall find something you admire just as much, I am sure.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Phoebe was also able to indulge herself and commissioned several gowns and hats to be made. Towards the end of their first week in London, the ladies received a visit from Mr Brendon and Mr Armstrong. Both thought what a lovely picture Phoebe and Lydia presented, the dark curls of one mingling with the blond ringlets of the other as they poured over a book of dress designs. Sophia was absent from the room so Rupert wasted no time in clasping his betrothed’s hands in his own and declaring, “Lydia, my days have been empty without you.” He was rewarded as the pressure on his own increased and she gazed lovingly into his eyes. Duncan wished he might similarly have been able to greet Phoebe but instead was confined to exchanging the usual pleasantries.

  “I trust you are enjoying your visit,” he enquired, looking at her in that warm way that had drawn her to him from the very first moment they had met.

  “Immensely, and I fear I shall have to hire an extra carriage to take my purchases when I return home. Do you look to replenish your own wardrobe while you are here?”

  “And how am I to take that? Do you consider me so badly turned out that I must at once do something about it?”

  She chuckled back at him and gave him his own. “Do you then consider that I have been so badly turned out, for it is no more than I have done?”

  “Touché. Yes, I am hoping to add a few items while I am in town. Certainly I need some new boots.”

  “Will you stay for tea? I shall ring for a tray.”

  “Thank you. You are very kind.”

  The bubble of laughter that seemed always so near to the surface when she was in the company of this man rose again. “I try when in the presence of others to remember my manners.”

  “You do it very well. And when you are not in the presence of others?”

  “Ah, then I may be as hoydenish as I please and none to care.”

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Sophia said, entering the room. “It is a pleasure to see you. We have been looking for you these two or three days now. You will stay for tea? Phoebe, do please ring for a tray.”

  Phoebe and Duncan exploded into laughter and it was some time before they were able to apprise the rest of the reason for their merriment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “For such a large man you are light on your feet, sir,” John Jackson said to Duncan. Not everyone who visited the boxing saloon at 13 Bond Street had the privilege of going a round or two with the great man himself and Duncan was well aware of the honour conferred on him.

  “I haven’t been to London since I was a cub at university, Mr Jackson, and I wouldn’t then have had the temerity to ask you to stand up with me. I am happy to say you have today helped me to fulfil a long held ambition.”

  “You could do better with regular practice but I could see as soon as I set eyes on you that you’d strip well, else I would’ve passed you on to another.”

  “I am well aware of the concession and can only offer my gratitude.”

  “No need. You’re welcome to come and see me again while you’re in town.”

  Had Duncan been a smaller man he might have been knocked off his feet by the gentleman who rushed passed him in the doorway as he left. As it was, he just looked a little surprised and raised one eyebrow at the retreating back of his assailant. Duncan strolled the short distance to Fenton’s Hotel where he was to meet Rupert.

  “You’ll never guess who I just bumped into, or rather who bumped into me, on the steps of Jackson’s saloon. Fingers Fawley, would you believe!”

  “Well I never! What did old Fingers have to say for himself?”

  “Nothing. He was in far too much of a hurry to pass the time of day. I’m not even sure he recognised me.”

  “Now you’re gammoning me. There ain’t many men of your size walking the planet.”

  “Well he chose not to anyway. I can’t say I’m sorry. I still regret the loss of that fob and unless it fell down an unseen crack there’s no-one else who could have taken it.”

  “If you’d been the only one I’d have said you’d imagined wearing it that night. Besides, had that been the case it would have still been in your room. He didn’t acquire his nickname by accident did he?”

  “No, but it’s so many years ago now perhaps he’s changed his ways. Anyway, tell me how you got on with the ladies,” he said, happy to turn the subject.

  Duncan was fond enough of Rupert to listen to his raptures without complaint.

  “We are to be married in three weeks. If it weren’t for those wretched banns I would have it sooner, I can tell you.”

  “When does Max arrive?”

  “Oh, my father won’t be here until a day or so before the wedding. Town life don’t suit him and I have no doubt he will return to Cranford as soon as he can.”

  “And what are your plans? Will you be taking your bride to visit all your friends, or to the continent now that it is safe to travel there?”

  Rupert smiled. “Since when did you think I had a notion to go gadding about, in this country or any other? You’re the one who likes to be on the move. To tell you the truth, Lydia doesn’t travel well and would prefer we go home as soon as maybe. But the thought of leaving her mama is troubling her I think. I was wondering whether I should offer to house the baroness as well!”

  “Are you insane, man? If you do that you will never be rid of the woman.”

  “Well I can’t say the idea appeals to me and Lydia hasn’t herself suggested it but it seems cruel to leave her in that big house on her own.”

  “I think you will find she has enough to occupy her with her other daughter who lives close by. You would do well to propose that she comes to you for an extended visit next summer for there’s no doubt she was pleased to be out of town these last couple of months. And in any case, how do you think such a suggestion would go down with Max.”

  Rupert grinned. “I don’t think he’d object too much. Quite taken with her, he is, ever since the time
they played piquet together at Glendale. Wouldn’t surprise me if he made such a suggestion himself.”

  “Don’t do it, Rupert.”

  “Perhaps I won’t. It don’t stop me feeling guilty though.”

  The two friends parted company for long enough to change their clothes. They were to join the ladies for a light supper prior to visiting the theatre.

  The Denbys welcomed their guests to Covent Garden where Sir George hired a box for the Season. Lydia was joined at the back of the box by her sister who declared Shakespeare’s tragedies made her feel morbid and that she couldn’t wait for the farce to begin later in the evening. Phoebe had little opportunity as a rule to enjoy a pastime she greatly enjoyed and sat staring at the stage, watching the drama unfold before her. Duncan’s attention was focused as much on her as on the play.

  “I have to say I am exhausted merely watching them,” she declared during the interval. “And even though I know the ending, I cannot wait to see the rest. How the actors keep it up for so long I don’t know. It was kind of you to invite me, Sir George.”

  “I am delighted at your pleasure, Miss Marcham. Clarissa is not much addicted to the play and enjoys much more the social aspect of attending the theatre.”

  “It is of all things the one I most miss on account of living in the country, though I have several times visited the Theatre Royal in Bath.”

  “I was privileged to see Rossini’s La cambiale di matrimonio while in Venice a few years ago,” Duncan said. “Are you a devotee of the opera as well as the play, Miss Marcham?”

  “Assuredly. You must know, Sir George, that Mr Armstrong has journeyed widely abroad and has entertained us on several occasions with his descriptions of things he has seen.”

  “You must consider me a coxcomb. Am I so full of my own conceit that I bore you with my experiences?” he asked, but his eyes were smiling.