by Joan Smith
“She’d ought to be told, Missie,” he insisted.
“I’ll tell her soon. I want time to consider it. You mustn’t say anything to upset her.”
He reluctantly agreed, with the parting shot, “It’s on your head, Missie.”
That night was the worst night I ever spent in my life. I didn’t sleep a wink. The toothache was nothing to it. Physical pain would almost have been a welcome distraction. My dream that Acton loved me was shattered, revealed for the folly it was. Worse than folly, he had pretended to love me to make me agree with him about Lorna. What if I had told Mama, who would have told Beamer, who would tell everyone?
Was I to be publicly jilted, perhaps a rumour put afoot that I had imagined the whole thing, or was trying to force Acton to marry me? Anger swelled up to replace sorrow at my dead dream. I was still wide awake and thinking what to do when the first light of dawn began to seep in around the edges of the covered windows. If reporting Acton’s attempt at murder was useless, the only other course was to see that Lorna was kept safe until we could prove her claim.
She mustn’t go out of the house again until the matter was settled. She obviously realized she was in danger, for she had kept to her bed for the past two days, only slipping out under cover of darkness to meet someone. Likely someone she believed was trying to help her. She had met Taylor twice. He must have convinced her he would help her.
The other necessity was to keep what had happened in the spinney from Mama. Folks said she was a peahen and I was the sensible one, and I had to agree with them. There was no point thinking she could help. She would only be dreadfully upset and might even do something foolish or dangerous. I tried to think who I could enlist on our side but our friends had all deserted us. All but Squire Beamer, and even he did not really believe our guest was Lady Lorna. Could I convince him that what had happened in the spinney had really happened?
And how should I behave towards Acton if he came to call? It would be nearly impossible to keep my anger in check. Would it be wiser to let him know I knew, or to feign ignorance? Why put him on his guard? In fact, I might use my imagined ignorance to lead him into some act that revealed his true colours to the world. The word “revenge” occurred, only to be squashed down and called justice.
There would almost certainly be another attempt at killing Lorna. That could be put to use, providing I could find a reliable witness and of course ensure her safety. Beamer could be my witness. I could guilelessly reveal to Acton that Lorna was going to be in some spot well away from prying eyes at a certain time, and see if he took the opportunity to take another shot at her. Beamer would have to be at hand to witness it, and stop him. Oh lord, would Beamer ever consent to participate in such a hare-brained scheme? He was at least a good shot, and not afraid of the Actons.
Time, that had seemed to stand still all through that endless night, sped up towards morning. Perhaps I did nod off, for it was half past eight when I heard a tap at my door and Lorna stepped in.
“Did I wake you, Katie? Sorry, you’re usually up by now. I wanted a word before you go downstairs. Mind if I open the curtains? I can’t see you.” In daylight it was clear she had not slept much that night either. She looked positively raddled. She sat on the edge of my bed, sighed and straightened her shoulders preparatory to beginning. “I’ve decided I am giving your Mama too much trouble, Katie, and I must leave.”
“Nonsense,” I said, sitting up straight. “I know what happened last night, Lorna. I was there. Balky and I followed you into the spinney.”
“What!” she said angrily, and stood up to glare at me. “A fine way to treat a guest. Does Lucy know?”
“No, of course not and I shan’t tell her. Who were you meeting, Lorna?”
“I suggest you keep out of this, Katie. It’s my battle. You might do one little thing for me. You are close to Acton. Tell him I’ll give up all claim to my dowry and disappear if he’ll give me enough money to make it worth my while.”
“No! Why would you do that?”
“Because I can’t take any more of this. It’s not worth it. It’s killing me. I’m leaving and that’s final.”
“You’re afraid the next shot won’t miss,” I said, with a knowing stare to tell her I knew all about last night.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She hesitated a moment, then said, “Why take chances with my life? Seems money means more to him than to me. I’ve done without before. I’ll manage. I’m leaving, today if possible.”
“How much will you ask him for?”
“What do you figure he might hand over?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps a few thousand, but — “
“That’d see me out of here and tide me over till I got established. I don’t like to put it in writing. If he refuses and it ends up in court, he could twist it to make me look bad. I want you to ask him for me.”
“I couldn’t, Lorna. I think you’re a fool to walk away from your own inheritance. Last night proves who you are. Why else would he try to kill you, if he weren’t afraid you can prove it? Couldn’t you hire a lawyer, a good one, in London?”
She considered it a moment, then said, “Not without blunt I couldn’t.”
“Let me think about it,” I said.
“Come to my room when you decide. I’ll be packing up my few bits and pieces. Tell Lucy I’m not going down to breakfast.” She turned to leave, then turned back for a last word. “You’ve got to help me, Katie. You’re my only chance.”
Between anger and frustration and pity, I could hardly think straight. I hated to see her leave and let Acton get away with it. Yet she couldn’t stay in her room forever, and if she went out he might very well succeed in killing her. I could well understand her eagerness to get away. I dreaded the role she had assigned to me, yet I could see no way out of it. I couldn’t refuse to do this one little thing for her. Her very life might depend on it. I’d do it, on the condition that she would see a lawyer, a good one, in London.
And would she even find a London lawyer who would take on a case against the Actons? There might still be time to carry out my plan. After twenty years in the wilderness, she deserved more than a couple of thousand pounds. Acton must pay for his perfidy to her — and to me.
Chapter Nineteen
Mama had arisen before me that day after her early retirement the night before. When I went down to breakfast Balky, wearing a small plaster on his forehead, informed me she was in the rose garden commiserating with Stubbins about the black spot that had invaded her Queen Anne roses. This ill fate was due not to any lapse on Stubbins’s part, but to Cook’s failure to get hold of the black beetle spotted in the larder the week before and kill it before it cocked its tail. Or perhaps she had used the wrong hand. It appeared only the thumb of the right hand held the magic power of good luck or ill in killing the dread black beetle.
Balky took advantage of her absence to have a private word with me. “I walked into a door last night, if she should mention it,” he said, fingering the plaster on his forehead. “Is your guest coming down to breakfast, Missie?”
“No, you’d best send her up a tray.”
“Seems odd she can’t make it down the stairs in the daytime, but can prance about frisky as a filly at night. Sally found the keys she borrowed on the stairs this morning. She must’ve dropped them in her haste. You’d ought to have a word with her about last night. It wants some explaining.”
“I’ll handle it. Leave her alone, Balky.”
“I can’t do much else as she never shows her nose out the bedroom door in daylight. It’s on your head,” he said again.
That morning was about as miserable as the night before. I paid a few visits to Lorna to try to talk her out of leaving. She was adamant, but she did promise to see a lawyer in London. “Oh, you’ve not heard the last of me,” she said, recovering her good humour now that I had agreed to speak to Acton about the money. “A bad penny always returns.”
At noon hour, Acton had not called. It was
hard to pretend everything was normal, when I knew Lorna was pacing impatiently abovestairs with her bag packed to leave. I don’t think Mama would have been sorry to hear it. She was studying the horoscope Signora Rossini had cast for her and I was pretending to knit a pair of slippers. She read aloud to me, “Someone you love will leave you soon. Do not grieve. Even good fish and company stink after three days.” She nodded and said, “There’s something in that, to be sure.”
Mama called Cook to the office to discuss the coming week’s dinner menu and Lorna was still in her room, leaving me alone when the door knocker sounded and Balky came to announce that Lord Acton refused to step in, but wished to see me. He waited at the door as he had been doing ever since Lorna’s visit. I had always considered this to be childish of him but now that I knew more about the situation, I wondered if he was afraid that if he actually saw her and talked to her, he wouldn’t have the fortitude to kill her. I got my bonnet and went out with him to escape Balky’s flapping ears.
Acton’s eyes were flashing and his face was flushed with excitement. “Well, has your secret weapon arrived?” I asked.
“My carriage will be meeting the coach from London in two hours,” he replied with a satisfied smile. “Three-thirty, providing the coach is not late. I expect to reveal your guest as the crook she is before dinner.”
“May I know this weapon’s name, now that the hour is at hand?” I had been pondering this problem. It must be some relative or close friend of Lorna’s whom he had bribed or threatened into this perjury.
“You’ll know soon enough. Considering the inexplicable faith you have in your guest, I think it wiser to refrain from telling you, but I assure you no one was more familiar with my sister.”
I didn’t bother pursuing the matter as I didn’t know Lorna’s intimate friends. Surely not Lord Edward, perhaps some relative. “My guest has an alternative suggestion,” I said.
His eyebrows rose in interest. “Indeed? She is hardly in a position — but let’s hear it.”
“She’ll leave and not come back if you give her two thousand pounds.”
He gave a derisive snort. “I’ve got her on the run, in other words. I had planned to give her a little something to see her on her way, but I’ll not be held to ransom.”
“Don’t be so cheap, Acton. What is a couple of thousand to a nabob like you?”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Of course, the last refuge of the scoundrel.”
“You’re thinking of patriotism,” he informed me. “Nossir, not one sou will she get. She may count herself fortunate I haven’t reported her to the authorities.”
I could hardly keep the sneer off my face as I said, “Actually she considers herself fortunate you haven’t killed her — or tried to.” I hoped to startle him into some display of guilt, or at least surprise or uncertainty as to how much I knew, but he merely mounted his high horse and sniffed.
“I’ll leave that sort of lawlessness to her. If she’s wise, she’ll leave while she’s still free to do so. But no, why should I let her off Scot free? She might come back and try it again. As you and your Mama are still in doubt, I want to expose her. I’ll kill the snake, not scotch it.”
“Kill her!” I exclaimed, astonished that he’d admit it.
“I see you are not in the mood for a literary allusion today. I was referring to the famous quote from Macbeth about scotching the snake, not killing it.”
I willed down my excitement and said, “Mama and I are not in doubt! Don’t use us for an excuse. You just want vengeance.”
“I admit I have been feeling vengeful, but I am not a villain, Kate. I don’t demand a public humiliation, but I expect you and your mama will want to be there. We shall keep it as private as possible. Away from the house, I think would be best. You know what servants are.”
“Where do you suggest?”
“The spinney is a fine and private place. I’m to meet my secret weapon’s coach at three-thirty. Give us an hour to get here, in case it’s late. Have her in the spinney at four-thirty and this will be all over.”
His choice of location laid to rest any doubt as to what he had in mind. I feared it would indeed be all over for Lorna. As he could hardly pull out a pistol and shoot her in front of Mama and me he must be counting on Taylor to do it, for some fat reward, of course. There were too many places of concealment in the spinney. That was why he had chosen it. I must choose some other venue, some location where there was only one place to hide, and where Beamer could spot Taylor and stop him. The plan, apparently, was a sudden, unexpected shot and while we were all confused and scrambling about to help Lorna, Taylor would make good his escape, and an anonymous poacher would be blamed for the “accident.”
“I don’t think the spinney is a good idea,” I said.
“Perhaps you’re right. She might not want to go there.” I considered that as good as confirmation that he had already made one attempt there. “You suggest a place.”
After considering other possible locations, I had decided no spot was as safe as inside the house, and had set on one room where Taylor could be lurking nearby outside to shoot her. If we held the meeting in the library by the French door, Taylor could hide himself behind the rose bushes and have a clean shot at her through the French door. I would leave it open. And there was a place for Beamer to hide as well. The rose garden was protected by a hedge of mature boxwood. Beamer could wait and watch there, just a few yards away. If he saw Taylor raise his pistol, he could shout out and stop him. With the pistol in his hand, Taylor would be caught red-handed. As he had no reason to kill her, surely everyone could see Taylor was his brother’s tool.
I watched as Acton considered this location. “I rather thought some place more private. What of the servants?”
“Don’t be foolish, Acton. The story is bound to get out when she leaves. Don’t you want folks to know she isn’t really your sister?”
When he had figured out that Taylor could hide behind the roses he said, “I daresay you’re right. Very well, the library it is, at four-thirty. I shall bring chilled champagne for the celebration. And afterwards, you and I have some — talking to do.” This last was accompanied by a wiggle of his infamous eyebrows and a flirtatious smile.
I managed to control my hand, that itched to reach out and slap the arrogant smile off his handsome face. I gritted my teeth and arranged an answering smile, as he had agreed to my arrangement.
Before leaving, he said, rather pensively, “It will be embarrassing for the poor woman. She won’t want to stay around, nor will your Mama want to have her. It might be kind to tell her to have her bag packed, and I’ll send a carriage to deliver her to the coach stop.”
Hypocrite! As if kindness had anything to do with it. I wondered what all that was about. Surely he didn’t think he could just bundle her dead body away and that would be the end of it. Did he at least plan to have her buried in the family plot, in an unmarked grave, of course? As she was already packed, however, I agreed without arguing. I was eager to be rid of him as I had to get hold of Beamer and twist his arm into helping me — us.
“You’d best go now, Acton,” I said.
“I’ll soon be back, and this will be all over, Kate. Some good has come of it.” He gave one of his dashing smiles and said, “Your stubbornness and various arguments and upbraidings and especially burgling my house have made me realize how well matched we are. I could never marry a clinging vine or a watering pot. I require some brave lunatic to keep me in line.”
“You have met your match, Sir.”
“Don’t I know it!” he said, and gave a mock scowl as he hurried off.
“You don’t know the half of it, milord,” I said to myself.
Chapter Nineteen
I rushed abovestairs to scramble into my riding habit for a quick jaunt to Beamer’s house. As I came out of my room, Lorna waylaid me in the hall. “I saw Acton’s rig. What did he say?”
“He’ll be here at
half past four.”
“Here? I thought he’d send the money.”
“No, he’s coming himself.”
“But with the money? Did he agree to the money?” she asked eagerly.
There wasn’t time to explain my elaborate scheme. If Beamer didn’t go along with me, I would have to find someone else, I could probably convince Balky to do it, though I preferred a more influential person, someone the law would have to listen to. In the worst case, I would ask the vicar. Surely Acton couldn’t buy a man of the cloth.
“You’ll get your money. I really have to go now, Lorna.”
She grabbed on to my arms and held me. “You’re sure! I need the money.”
“If he doesn’t give it to you, I’ll give it myself,” I said, shaking her loose and darting off down the staircase. She called after me, but I kept running.
I was in luck. Shortly after I entered the main road I met Beamer’s rig driving towards Oak Hill for a visit to Mama. I drew up beside him and he stopped his carriage.
“What is it, Kate?” he asked in alarm. “I hope Lucy is not ill?”
“No, she’s fine. It’s about Lorna.”
“Ah, blast the woman! Is there no end to her mischief-making? What has she done now?”
“She hasn’t done anything,” I snapped. “She’s been shot at.” He stared with his mouth open, as if he didn’t believe it. That got him out of his carriage. I dismounted and we went to the side of the road to talk. I gave him a hurried, garbled account of last night’s events in the spinney.
“Poachers,” he said at once. It took me ten minutes of hard talking to convince him, or rather to talk him into helping me, for he still didn’t believe me. “I don’t like this. I shall feel a fool, but if it... gets rid of that woman it’s worth it,” he said at last. “I doubt very much there will be any attempt at murder. What has Lucy to say about this mad scheme?”