Amberley Chronicles Boxset II (Amberley Chronicles Box Sets Book 2)

by May Burnett

  “Let’s find her first,” James cautioned. “But if the Duke should really be behind it, you can sue him with my good will. Nobody should get away with such dastardly actions, not even the King himself.”

  Chapter 29

  “My secretary,” the Marquis said to Dr Cullingham in a careless tone. “He can be trusted, but I’d rather talk to you by yourself for a few minutes… wait outside, will you, James?”

  “Certainly, Sir.” James, in the unaccustomed role of a paid employee, tried to look harmless and ingratiating.

  “Please come this way, Monsieur le Marquis …” the Doctor had a deep, soothing voice and a manner that immediately inspired confidence. Proof that instinct could be badly misleading, Alphonse reflected, as he leaned against the doctor’s desk in a casual pose.

  “In what way can we be of service to you? I am gratified at the chance to serve a nobleman of your stature – but it is not the first time, if I may say so, and we have always given complete satisfaction.”

  “Mine is a somewhat delicate case,” Alphonse said, speaking slowly so as to give James more time, “concerning a relative who lives in France, an aunt of mine, Tante Berthe.”

  “If she is French, then she might be better off in a French institution,” the doctor said cautiously. “What is the problem, exactly?”

  “I have no idea – you are the mental specialist. All I know is that I fear my poor aunt is no longer in her right senses. I leave the diagnosis entirely to you.”

  “And rightly so, of course, though if she doesn’t speak English it may be harder … what symptoms does she exhibit?”

  “Symptoms?” Alphonse creased his brows, as though deep in thought. “She is stubborn, and a miser,” he said at last. “She does not show proper deference to the head of the family – me – and she is quite rude on occasion.”

  “Aggressive and unfit for normal social relations, in other words,” the doctor concluded.

  “I suppose she could be described thus.”

  “How old is this lady?”

  “In her fifties.”

  “Hmm. Sometimes such behaviour is the result of delusions, which would require an extensive course of treatment by our specialists. The age you name is associated with the female change, which often leads to undesirable alterations in character. Moral weakness … ah, I’m sure we could arrive at an exact diagnosis after a few weeks’ observation and investigation. But we might need to charge extra for the French translation she would require.”

  “How much in all?”

  The sum the doctor named made Alphonse blink. It was more than his parents had paid for his Eton education.

  “I suppose it’s in a good cause,” he said doubtfully.

  “I daresay this aunt is wealthy – and you are her heir?” the doctor asked with an air of jocosity. “No, don’t tell me – I don’t want to know.”

  “My daughter is her heiress, as a matter of fact,” Alphonse confided. “But that is quite irrelevant while my aunt lives, and her side of the family are damnably long-lived.”

  “Oh.” The doctor looked thoughtful. “Sometimes being restrained and coming to realise that the mind is failing, leads to a shortened lifespan,” he said delicately, “but there can be no guarantees, of course.”

  Alphonse hid his shock at the implication, glad that his aunt Berthe was purely fictional. “I would not want anything to happen to my aunt. I have only her best interests at heart – her health, you know.”

  “I understand. Of course you do. Still, since life is uncertain, we have a special arrangement, a kind of insurance policy by which a certain sum is calculated for funeral costs, just in case … the sum is rather large, but surprisingly many of our clients have been glad to pledge it. And they always pay when the time comes.”

  “Do they?” Alphonse tried to look like a greedy nephew wrestling with his underdeveloped conscience. “Just how much does this policy come to, may I ask? Purely on a theoretical basis.”

  The price reassured him that only a very small number of people were in a position to afford medically sanctioned murder. “Is there a time limit on this arrangement?”

  “The usual term is one year from the patient’s admission. It takes some time for the hopelessness of their medical condition to sink in.”

  “I was not aware of this additional service … you have given me much to think about,” Alphonse said in a considering voice.

  “There are other practical issues, - how would you get the patient to us, milord? We do not go out to acquire patients, especially to a foreign country. The family member who makes the arrangement has to bring the patient here, usually through some reliable employee. In some cases subterfuge has been used to advantage – the patient is told they are going to visit an old friend for tea, and instead they are driven here. Have you thought how to transfer your aunt from France? Are there possibly other family members, who feel differently about your aunt’s condition, and who might show undesirable curiosity about her whereabouts?”

  “My cousin Angeline,” Alphonse took the cue, inventing yet another relative. “She’s an inveterate busybody, but she lives in Paris, and would hardly look for our aunt in England.”

  “Not if you are careful – it might be best to admit the lady under a different name, just in case.”

  “Good idea,” Alphonse approved. “I’m not entirely sure about the funeral plan as yet. Tell me more about your treatment methods, for each of the various possible ailments she may be found to suffer from.”

  He was just trying to gain more time now for James to search the place, large enough to house two dozen patients and their wardens. What had they stumbled upon here – and how many patients in the place might be truly mad? Would a sane person be driven crazy or suicidal, imprisoned here for any length of time?

  When the topic of treatments was exhausted, he regaled the bored doctor with a selection of childhood memories of Aunt Berthe, how strict she had been, to give the doctor an insight into her character. Then he decided to go for the death plan after all and haggled about the price – would pre-payment of half the sum lead to a substantial reduction?

  By this time the doctor’s eyes glazed over and he seemed on the verge of recalling some medical emergency. Alphonse volubly took his leave, promising to send his bank draft at least a week in advance of aunt Berthe’s arrival. The fictitious name of the patient was agreed – Dr Cullingham showed no curiosity regarding the woman’s true name.

  When he stepped out of the doctor’s office, after shaking his hand firmly, and looking for the last time into those compelling dark brown eyes, Alphonse felt almost queasy with distaste.

  James was waiting, face impassive, the perfect secretary. “I’m done,” Alphonse said briskly, “come on, man.”

  “Yes, Sir.” From the two words Alphonse could tell that his friend had been successful. He suppressed an inclination to wink at James; they were still under Dr Cullingham’s watchful eye, and must not fall out of their roles until well away.

  Once back in their carriage, he let out a long exhalation.

  “What a scoundrel … You would not believe it, James, but the good doctor not only imprisons perfectly sane people, no questions asked, he offers to kill them off within the year, for a considerable sum. I wonder how many patients he has murdered over the years?”

  “You can’t be serious,” James said incredulously.

  “I am quite sure I understood him correctly. Did you see Miss Prentice?”

  “Yes, though I had almost given up. She was in the back garden, with two other women, and three men dressed as attendants. I caught a glimpse of her from the window. She never saw me. The poor girl looked hopeless and sad. I wanted to charge right downstairs and grab her, but against several husky men, it seemed foolhardy and unlikely to do much good. We need to return with official reinforcements.”

  “At least she’s still alive,” Alphonse said, “from what I learned that cannot be taken for granted. This fellow must be stopp
ed, as quickly as may be. I want to talk to this magistrate of yours myself.”

  “We’ll both swear out a deposition,” James suggested. “With your testimony and mine, there should be grounds enough for a raid on the place. And I’ll tell Mr and Mrs Prentice that their daughter will soon be restored to them. They will be so very relieved.”

  “I suppose she’s not in immediate danger,” Alphonse said, “the supplemental plan is amazingly costly, though I’m sure I was overcharged for being a rich foreigner. Unless whoever sent Miss Prentice here is wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, he will think twice before ordering it. Just keeping people locked up is already very expensive.”

  “It will turn out to be a lot more expensive for him, by the time we are done.” Alphonse had rarely heard his good-natured friend sound so grim.

  Chapter 30

  House Parties at Amberley always concluded with a ball or a large garden party, to which all neighbours of social standing were invited. Since the Amberleys had been travelling the entire previous year, this was to be the first ball at the estate in some time. Marianne had made a special effort to make it a memorable occasion for the entire county.

  Eighty guests would sit down to dinner, and over three hundred ladies and gentlemen were invited for the ball, not counting the members of the house party. Charlotte and Minerva had offered to assist with the preparations, but Marianne and her experienced housekeeper and butler had everything in hand. All was arranged as in previous years, except for extra refinements, such as more exotic flower arrangements, pink sparkling wine, a larger orchestra and the new decoration of the ball room, which was transformed on an ancient Greek theme. Marianne had briefly considered requiring her guests to appear in Greek costume, but had taken pity on her neighbours, who might find it difficult to procure or produce such raiment here in the countryside on relatively short notice. George, when consulted, had assured her that everyone would be more comfortable in their best evening finery. He did not fancy spending the evening with bare legs and improvised sandals, and doubted that the latter would be suitable for dancing with style.

  James was still not back, and had not sent word what was keeping him in the capital so long. Charlotte and Marianne were beginning to worry. George and Minerva maintained that he must have good reasons, and that no news was good news – or at least better than learning he had fallen ill in town, or had suffered a roadside accident.

  Anna was glad to have held back her most elegant evening gown, and for once did not care if she outshone the Princess. When they all assembled shortly before dinner, to mingle with the outside guests, she saw that she need not have worried. Gisela wore an outrageously expensive confection of fine blonde lace with a generously cut neckline, and her heirloom set of sapphires. She was in her best looks and at least sartorially quite put Anna’s green silk and antique pearls in the shade.

  Anna thrilled secretly at seeing Rook in evening wear. She had seen him clad elegantly evening after evening, but tonight something was different about him – he was even more impossibly handsome than usual. He garnered and ignored a multitude of wistful and longing glances, not only from young girls but even from middle-aged matrons and grandmothers who should have known better. As should she, of course, but Anna had decided to enjoy these bittersweet memories without remorse, before trying to forget Rook in the vastness of Russia. Time healed all wounds eventually.

  Rook had asked the Princess for the first and the dinner dance; he had also arranged to dance the fifth with Anna – the first waltz of the evening. Mere coincidence?

  Her Grace the Duchess of Ottway was wearing a white and red striped gown designed to set off her rubies. During the dinner Anna amused herself by trying to decide which jewels an expert thief would find most enticing. The rubies were showy, but she knew Gisela’s sapphires to be nearly flawless and perfectly matched, and Lady Amberley’s emeralds, matching her green eyes, were also spectacular. Lady Minerva and Mrs. Ellsworthy were wearing relatively modest diamonds and amethysts.

  The Duke’s booming voice carried down the table to her place, and Anna was glad to be far away from him. She conversed with her table neighbours, two local gentlemen, but had ample time for observation of the glittering crowd.

  The dinner ended at last, and the Amberleys stood at the entrance and greet the newly arriving guests for the ball, while the orchestra were warming up their instruments. There was nothing to do but stroll around and wait for the other guests to arrive and the dancing to begin as scheduled at ten o’clock.

  Her own first dance was promised to Mr. Beecham, and he sought her out and offered his arm well before it was to begin. Looking around, Anna saw that Lady Minerva, his wife, was in deep conversation with three young ladies she had never seen before.

  “Old friends from her childhood days,” Beecham said, “since Minerva grew up at Amberley and lived here until we married just last year, she has been looking forward to meeting many of tonight’s guests.”

  “I understand,” Anna said. “I suppose one never loses fondness for one’s childhood home, and earliest friends. Mine would be in Obernberg, but I spent most of my childhood wherever my father was posted at the time. That made home all the sweeter, when we had a chance to go there.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Not now, it has only been a few weeks since I left. I am used to spending whole years away from home.” She critically observed the Duke and Duchess standing back from the company and discouraging attempts at drawing them into conversation, while Rook, with Gisela on his arm, was politely conversing with a number of fellow guests. “Lord Molyneux has more pleasing manners than his father.”

  “That’s from his mother, I am told. She was a Desborough, and very popular. I have met his two younger brothers; they are almost like normal people.” His slightly acerbic tone reminded Anna of her partner’s disapproval of aristocrats.

  “Is it not a contradiction, opposing the monarchy and aristocracy, and being here as the Earl’s guest and brother-in-law?”

  “Not at all. Disliking an institution is not the same as disliking or shunning the people involved. It is not their fault for being born into a particular class.”

  The first dance was about to begin, and they approached the floor to take their places when a sudden commotion at the entrance gave them pause. As one, Beecham and she moved closer, impelled by curiosity, as did a number of other couples. Was someone trying to force entry to the earl’s ball without invitation?

  To Anna’s surprise the small group of new arrivals dressed for travel rather than a ball were accompanied by James Ellsworthy, the Earl’s brother. She recognized Mr and Mrs Prentice, looking tired but angry, and Miss Prentice, pale and defiant. They were accompanied by a tall blond man Anna had never seen before, who held his arm protectively around Miss Prentice’s slender waist.

  “Miss Prentice, I am very glad to see you are safe,” Lord Amberley said, before turning to his brother. “I am glad you are back, James, but maybe it would be best to change before you and your companions join our ball?”

  James merely shook his head, and the unknown young man fixed Lord Amberley with a ferocious glare.

  “We do not come to dance, milord, but to denounce one of your guests as the villain and criminal that he is!” His voice carried so well that Anna suspected he had professional acting training.

  “Who are you?” Amberley asked, perplexed.

  James intervened at last. “This is Michael Selbington, the owner and editor of the Society Argus, and a cousin of Lord Brincastle. He is also the husband of the former Miss Louisa Prentice.”

  “Congratulations,” Lady Amberley said to the young man. “I am so glad you found her. And married so quickly!”

  “Louisa was kidnapped and imprisoned illegally by the Duke of Ottway,” Selbington announced. Everyone looked at the duke, at Rook and the Princess, who had been watching the unfolding drama in bemusement, and for several seconds a shocked silence fell over the ballroom.

/>   “Did I mention that I am also a barrister?” Selbington continued, “It will be my pleasure to sue his Grace for an astronomical sum in compensation.”

  “The devil you will!” Ottway cried. “What kind of impertinence is this? Amberley, I did not come here to be insulted!”

  “You,” the former Miss Prentice said in a throbbing voice, “You are a monster who should not be allowed to mix with ordinary humans! Vile – evil man!” Evidently she was still fond of dramatic scenes.

  Rook came forward, pulling the Princess with him. Gisela was frowning in incomprehension, and beginning to look peevish.

  “Excuse me,” Anna murmured to Beecham, “I am needed as a translator, I see.” She detached her hand from his arm and approached the Princess. Before she could push her way through the intervening bodies she heard Rook ask in a ringing voice, “Is it true?”

  “Nonsense! I am not going to dignify such an absurdity with a denial,” Ottway said. “Besides, to claim that she was married to you proves that she was indeed mad!”

  James Ellsworthy ignored him, looking at Rook, and shaking his head in sorrowful confirmation. “We have proof that Miss Prentice was kidnapped off the street, drugged and brought to a place called the Cullingham Institute against her will by a Mr. Tolling, who I believe works for your father. We also have a confession from Cullingham, and his records of the transaction.”

  He had not bothered to lower his voice, and people were beginning to draw back from the Duke insofar as the crowded conditions allowed them to do so. Horrified glances were exchanged.

  “Tolling is my brother Colin’s tutor,” Rook said, looking hard at the Duke.

  “Everyone involved, come to my study,” Lord Amberley announced, and led the way, while Lady Amberley remained behind. Anna had to admire how deftly she reassigned dancing partners, and calmed down the excited guests. In the absence of her fiancé, the Princess was led to the floor by Lord Pell. Soon Anna and Beecham were also making graceful turns in the country dance, though she suspected the M.P. was as curious as she regarding the spectacular interruption of the ball. The Duke had not followed Amberley to the study, she noticed, but rather stalked off in a different direction, while the Duchess was dancing with Lord Tembley.