by Anne Ashley
The faintly harsh contours of his face were softened by a spontaneous smile. ‘So, you have glimpsed the result of his efforts yesterday?’
She had the grace to look a little shamefaced. ‘Lucy knocked the sketch pad on to the floor when she was crossing the coffee room.’
‘Oddly enough, I do not find that too difficult to believe.’
The dry response stretched Emma’s self-control to its limits. Evidently Lucy had not impressed the guests with her serving skills. ‘Yes, well,’ she muttered, a little unsteadily. ‘Anyway, to continue, the truth of the matter is that sketching happens to be one of my favourite pastimes. So after I’d retrieved the pad, I couldn’t resist a quick peek.’ The look she cast him was full of gentle mockery. ‘I assume it was supposed to be the famous circle on Salisbury Plain. It resembled nothing so much as a rockfall to me!’
The rich rumble of masculine laughter was just too infectious, and Emma found herself chuckling too, until his laughter faded and she was subjected to yet another of those suddenly intense and penetrating stares.
‘Yes, I rather fancy that I can trust you, Miss Emma Lynn, and so shall tell you precisely what has brought me to this village of yours… I am far from certain yet, but I’m beginning to feel increasingly that Dr Hammond’s death was quite deliberately planned. The attack upon him, unless I much mistake the matter, was carried out in a deliberate attempt to silence him.’
Benedict was not slow to note the rather pensive expression flitting over the delicate features. ‘You will forgive me for saying so, but you do not appear unduly surprised, Miss Lynn.’
‘In truth, sir, I am not.’ Her frown grew more marked. ‘I have always felt myself that there was more to that incident than an attack by thieves which ended in tragedy. I know that, since the end of the war with France, incidents of robbery have been more frequent. So many men unable to find work, and still needing to feed their families, it is little wonder that instances of lawlessness are on the increase. But most attacks take place in the larger towns and cities, not in rural places like Ashworth Magna, and certainly not on quiet country lanes, seldom used. The villains might have lain in wait all night and not glimpsed a prospective victim.’
‘Do you know precisely where the incident took place?’
‘Yes…yes, I do, as it happens.’ An overwhelming impulse to be of some service in his endeavours silenced completely that cautionary little voice which had already warned her that it might be wise to avoid the company of this enigmatic stranger throughout the remainder of his stay at the inn. ‘I need to travel to Salisbury later this morning to buy certain provisions. I can show you the exact spot if you wish me to?’
He reached out one shapely hand to grasp the handle of her basket, and Emma found herself automatically releasing her hold, as they walked slowly back along the path towards the inn.
‘Obviously Lavinia Hammond is suspicious about her husband’s death. Is that why she asked you to come here?’
He nodded. ‘I do not, however, wish to cause her more distress than she’s already suffered, so I will accept your kind offer to show me the precise location of the attack, and would ask you too, for the present, to keep the reason for my being here to yourself.’
Emma did not hesitate to give her word, but after a moment’s thought asked, ‘I assume that Mr Fencham is in your confidence?’ At his nod of assent, she found it quite beyond her to suppress an impish little smile. ‘In that case I may be able to assist you in more ways than one. At least I can add a certain credence to the story you are putting about for being in Ashworth Magna.’
‘I shall be immensely grateful for any assistance you can lend me, Miss Lynn,’ he assured her, handing back the basket as they arrived at the kitchen door. ‘In the meantime, I shall occupy my time whilst waiting for my breakfast by reading the late doctor’s diary. One never knows, some clue might come to light.’
When Harry entered the private parlour quite some time later, it was to discover his uncle with his nose in the shabby, leatherbound diary, and to see the remains of what looked to have been a very hearty breakfast pushed to one side. His favourite relative, who normally ate quite sparingly, was beginning to behave in a most uncharacteristic manner!
‘I must say, Ben, I don’t know what’s come over you of late,’ he announced, not reluctant to voice his perplexing thoughts. ‘Since we’ve been at this place, there’s simply no keeping track of you at all! I bumped into Emma on the landing, and she told me you were up again at some ungodly hour.’
Benedict momentarily abandoned his deciphering of the appalling scrawl to cast his nephew a faintly surprised glance. ‘Emma…? I didn’t realise you were on such friendly terms.’
‘Wouldn’t say that we are, exactly… But dash it all, Ben! There’s no need to be so rigidly formal. Besides, I’ve decided I rather like Miss Lynn. She’s a deuced pretty woman!’
One black brow was raised in a decidedly mocking arch. ‘Surprisingly enough, I had made that observation myself.’
Chuckling at the dry response, Harry seated himself at the table and began idly to glance through the sketchbook pressed upon him a few minutes earlier. ‘I assume you’ve taken Emma into your confidence.’
‘Yes, I have. And it just so happens that she had considered there was something suspicious about Hammond’s death. She’s kindly offered to show me where the attack took place.’ Benedict abandoned his reading for the present, and set the late doctor’s diary to one side. ‘And whilst I’m out, you can do your duty by paying a call on Mrs Hammond and her daughter. But do be careful what you say in Deborah’s presence. Lavinia might be suspicious about her husband’s death, but I’m not at all certain that she’s shared her concerns with her daughter.’
‘Understood,’ Harry responded, before continuing to inspect Emma’s sketches. ‘I say, Ben, these are dashed good! A great deal more impressive than those atrocities my sisters insist on showing me.’
‘Which isn’t saying very much.’ Reaching across the table, Benedict grasped the pad his nephew held out, and nodded his head in approval, before the door behind him opened and he distinctly detected his young relative’s faint sigh of relief.
‘Thank heavens it’s you, Emma!’ Harry announced, as she placed fresh coffee and rolls on the table. ‘I won’t now need to don body armour. What a clumsy wench that Lucy is!’
She cast him a look of comical dismay. ‘Oh, dear. I hope nothing ended in your lap.’
‘No, but it wasn’t for the want of her trying!’
‘Stop complaining, boy!’ Benedict chided, whilst quite unable to suppress a twitching smile. ‘You’ll be spared the need to dodge dishes this evening. Which reminds me…’ He turned to Emma, arresting her progress to the door. ‘We’ll not be requiring a meal. We’ve received a dinner invitation.’
Although she managed to conceal the fact, she was relieved to hear it. At least now she could dine with Lavinia and Deborah, and enjoy the evening with a clear conscience, knowing that she hadn’t left poor Martha to cope alone.
She then bethought herself of something else. ‘Would you be ready to accompany me in half an hour, Mr Grantley? I need only change my attire. I’ll meet you in the yard.’
It was a rare experience for Benedict to be driven about by a female. The vehicle was certainly not quite up to the fashionable standard in which he was accustomed to travelling about the country. Nor by any stretch of the imagination could the single animal pulling the light carriage be described as a fiery steed. Nevertheless, Emma soon proved that she had a pair of light hands, and that she was more than capable of handling the one-horse gig.
As she expertly turned off the main village street and into a narrow lane, he casually remarked that they might have made the journey in his own carriage, which immediately earned him a quizzical glance.
‘You are most generous to express such confidence in my ability, sir, but I rather fancy that I’d require a little extra tuition before attempting to handle a carriage
-and-four. Or were you proposing that I should keep your groom company upon the box?’
He was fast coming to realise that the delightful Miss Lynn had a rather wicked sense of humour which, surprisingly enough, was not so dissimilar to his own. ‘Neither, you abominable girl!’
Far from chastened, she gurgled with laughter. ‘Well, abominable I might be, but I’m not completely ignorant of the ways of the polite world. It is most improper, as well you know, for an unmarried female to travel in a closed carriage with a gentleman who is not a close relative. Even at my age a female must take care of her reputation.’
‘Believe it or not, Miss Lynn, preserving your good name is swiftly becoming of prime importance to me.’
It wasn’t so much the admission itself which instantly wiped the smile off her face, and almost had her gaping like a half-wit in astonishment, as the sincere note she couldn’t fail to detect in the deep, attractive voice. Utterly confused, she could think of absolutely nothing to say in response. Nor could she understand for the life of her why he should concern himself over her welfare. Consequently she experienced no small degree of relief when they approached the place he was so keen to examine, and she was able to steer the conversation in a completely different direction.
‘That is where he was found.’ Drawing the carriage to a halt, Emma pointed to the exact spot in the ditch, close to a large gap in the hedge, and then watched as he jumped nimbly down from the gig in one smooth, lithe movement.
She could not fail to observe the lines creasing that high forehead, as he cast those strikingly coloured eyes over the ground. She could not fail to notice, too, the wonderfully fluid way he moved: surprisingly graceful for a man of his size.
Very likely this natural elegance of movement extended to the dance floor, she reflected, where he must constantly be sought as a partner by those beautifully attired, wealthy young ladies. Had she ever been blessed to enjoy a Season in town, she would certainly have wished to see his name written more than once on her dance—
Suddenly realising he had addressed her, she swiftly abandoned her foolish musings. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Grantley, I wasn’t attending. What did you say?’
‘I said that it isn’t hard to see why Hammond’s attackers chose this precise spot.’ Having returned through the gap in the hedge, Benedict cast a glance up and down the narrow lane. ‘Anyone travelling along this road, and at that time during the evening, would have been taken completely by surprise. The poor unsuspecting devil didn’t stand a chance. The miscreants would have been upon him before he knew what was happening.’
Emma gave a sudden start. ‘Of course! Lavinia mentioned weeks and weeks ago that her husband had intended visiting Sir Lionel that night. His attackers must have been aware of that fact, and were lying in wait for the good doctor. How exceedingly stupid of me not to have realised that long before now!’
Some perverse imp of mischief held him mute, refusing to allow him to assure her that he considered her anything but foolish, and he found himself on the receiving end of a faintly suspicious glance as he clambered up beside her once more.
‘How far is Sir Lionel’s place from here?’ he enquired, somehow managing to preserve his countenance.
‘Just round the next bend. It is the only property along here. That is why the lane is so infrequently used.’
Reaching out, he placed his hand over hers a few moments later, when she attempted to turn the gig in the imposing gateway leading to Sir Lionel’s estate. ‘There is no need to take me back to the inn. I have decided to accompany you to Salisbury. Providing you’ve no objection, that is?’
Surprised but certainly not unhappy to have him bear her company, Emma continued down the narrow lane which eventually led to a much wider road. Effortlessly turning the gig in the direction of Salisbury, she swiftly earned herself a word of praise from her very impressed companion for the very neat and stylish way she overtook a lumbering coach.
‘Oh, Peg takes little handling. He’s a very sensible and reliable animal. He knows his way without receiving instruction from me.’
‘Peg?’ Benedict arched one black brow. ‘An unusual choice of name for a gelding, wouldn’t you say?’
‘It is short for—er—Pegasus,’ Emma enlightened him, lips twitching. ‘Yes, well may you laugh. I’ll admit he’s not precisely a flyer. Samuel became addicted to mythology after he had learned to read, hence the name.’
‘Did you teach Master Rudge to read, by any chance?’
‘No, Martha did. And she was taught by my mother.’
‘Ah, yes! I remember. Martha was at one time your nursemaid.’ He received a surprised glance. ‘You may have gathered by now, Miss Lynn, that I have a penchant for solving mysteries. You intrigued me, so I took the liberty of discovering from Lavinia Hammond why I should find a girl of evident genteel birth working in a tavern.’
Emma shrugged. ‘There’s no mystery about me, Mr Grantley. After my father died, I was offered the opportunity of living with my uncle’s widow in Bristol. Unfortunately I gained the distinct impression that she wasn’t so keen to acquire my company as the money her late husband had kindly left me in his will. I believe she wished for nothing more than to cement an alliance between me and her son, Edwin. And I could never bring myself to marry a man whose full-lipped mouth puts me in mind of nothing so much as a pig’s snout. One would not wish to spend the rest of one’s life with someone who not only resembled a boar, but also possessed the manners of one.’
‘No, indeed,’ he agreed a trifle unsteadily, ‘but surely there were other avenues open to you? A girl of your obvious intelligence and refined manners would have had no difficulty in attaining some genteel position.’
‘As a governess or companion, you mean?’ She was unable to suppress a wry smile as she shook her head. ‘Thank you for the compliment, sir, but I assure you that wouldn’t have suited me at all! Poor Miss Spears held just such a position, and I saw, firsthand, what it did to her. God rest her soul!’
‘Ah!’ He regarded her with keen interest. ‘So, you were acquainted with the late Miss Spears, were you?’
‘Not very well, no,’ she freely admitted. ‘We passed the time of day after church on Sundays, that is all. Poor downtrodden creature! She always appeared so fidgety, almost afraid of her own shadow. Understandable enough when one considers the spoilt nature of her charge. And before you ask—no, I am not acquainted with the divine Clarissa Ashworth. But I’ve heard enough about her to be very certain that I wouldn’t have been at all content as her governess. If you wish to learn about the Ashworths, you must ask Sir Lionel. He, I understand, has been a friend of the family for years.’
Thus adjured, Benedict decided not to probe further for information which, plainly, she was unable to give. So he changed the subject completely by recounting anecdotes of his past, and disclosing certain facts concerning the more colourful members of Society, which succeeded in keeping her in a high state of amusement. Just occasionally, however, before she pulled into the yard of one of Salisbury’s more prosperous inns, leaving her gig in the care of a friendly ostler, he glimpsed a fleeting, wistful expression which betrayed clearly enough that, had her circumstances been different, she would not have been averse to enjoying a Season in town.
Swiftly extracting the large basket from beneath the seat before she could do so, Benedict accompanied her along the busy street, surreptitiously studying her attire as she paused to stare in a shop window. Here in this busy, thriving community she did not appear in the least out of place. She wore her neat blue gown and matching pelisse with an air, and the fetching bonnet, offering a tantalising glimpse of those gorgeous chestnut locks, was neatly secured by matching blue ribbon tied in a bow to one side of that delightfully determined little chin. She looked utterly charming, and as neat as wax. Yet no amount of new trimmings on either bonnet or gown could disguise the fact that her attire was not in the prevailing mode, and had been fashioned from materials which had been chosen, he suspected,
primarily for their hard-wearing qualities.
Quite unexpectedly he found himself experiencing a stab of annoyance. Such a lovely young woman ought to be arrayed in the finest silks and laces, with her hair arranged by some skilful abigail. Thus groomed, she could enter any fashionable drawing-room, and he would defy anyone else present who was not familiar with her circumstances to suppose for a moment that such a well-mannered, well-spoken young woman was not the daughter of some highborn gentleman.
Catching sight of his disgruntled expression reflected in the shop window, Emma spun round in time to glimpse the disapproving furrows etched in that intelligent forehead before they vanished. ‘Sir, please do not feel obliged to remain by my side. I’m certain you would find it vastly more pleasurable exploring the town,’ she suggested, quite naturally supposing boredom to be responsible for the look of discontent. ‘We could meet back at the inn later.’
‘I’m sure we could, Miss Lynn, but I would much prefer to accompany you.’
She was unconvinced, but when she tried to reach for the basket, he whisked it out of reach, thereby making any further attempt to retrieve it impossible without an undignified struggle. ‘Very well, sir,’ she relented. ‘You may accompany me if you wish, but I’m certain you will be heartily bored.’
‘And I can assure you I will not,’ he countered. ‘I am never bored in your company, Miss Lynn. It is most refreshing.’
Suspecting him of mere gallantry, but deciding not to pursue the matter, she changed the subject by enquiring what he would be most likely doing at this time of day if he were still in the capital.
He consulted his fob watch. ‘Oh, browsing through the latest edition of the Morning Post, I suppose. I do not permit my butler, Fingle, to admit visitors before two in the afternoon. Consequently the door-knocker is never still one minute past that hour.’
‘Truly?’ Emma gurgled with laughter, much to his intense surprise. ‘How very singular! Are you usually unsociable in the mornings? I know some people are.’