A Gentleman of Fortune

by Anna Dean

  Dido gladly agreed, and fell into step beside her. Her curiosity was now once more in full play, acting like a kind of half-effective analgesic to blunt the edge of painful disappointment. She looked sidelong at her companion; there was a rapid blinking of the eyes which spoke of some agitation, but a very determined pretence at calm.

  It was as fair an opportunity for conversation as she was likely to get, and there were a great many questions which she was longing to ask. But she judged it best not to reveal that she had witnessed the tearing of the book. That mystery would be more likely solved by strategy than questions. And, as for pursuing the business of Mrs Midgely’s acquaintance with the Lansdales – that, she thought, had better not be attempted. A fainting fit in the heart of the countryside would be very inconvenient indeed!

  So she settled upon what seemed a safe branch of the interesting subject and began cautiously with: ‘Before you were overcome by the heat yesterday morning, Miss Prentice, you were telling us about Mr Henderson – the gentleman who used to live at Knaresborough House.’

  ‘Oh yes! Mr Henderson – we were talking of him, were we?’ She seemed relieved.

  ‘You were telling us,’ Dido continued, assured that she was upon safe ground, ‘that he visited Mrs Lansdale – on the evening before she died. And, I wondered, if you have ever seen him visiting before?’

  ‘Oh, no. No I do not believe that I have. The Lansdales had very few visitors as a rule. Very few. Which I always thought rather a shame – for such a fine house. It was very different when Mr Henderson lived there himself,’ she continued eagerly. ‘He kept a great deal of company – not dinner company…’ She leant close and whispered – though there was no one to hear but a pair of swans sliding by upon the river. ‘Between ourselves, I rather fancy that money was not very plentiful with Mr Henderson. However, though he gave no dinners, he kept a great deal of evening company… But the Lansdales, they were very quiet…’

  There was no mistaking the note of regret in her voice. The Lansdales, it seemed, were unsatisfactory neighbours – they provided too little to watch.

  They walked on a little. Dido’s mind was busy with a new idea – the idea of a ‘fine- looking’, but impoverished man visiting in secret an ageing, wealthy widow, and visiting her, furthermore, in a room fitted up with red, flattering lights.

  Had he perhaps come in the form of a lover? And had Miss Neville been sworn to secrecy lest the nephew find out?

  Dido paused when they came to the next stile. ‘What manner of man is Mr Henderson?’ she asked. ‘Is he a married man? Has he any family?’

  ‘Oh! He is a widower, my dear. A widower with three unmarried daughters – very pretty girls. At least, I suppose they are pretty. One did not see their faces – close bonnets they had on when they walked out. And very plain gowns… Which was another thing made me think the family were a little distressed for money.’

  ‘I see.’ Dido mused a moment. ‘But he was a gentleman of some standing I imagine – to have rented such a house, I mean.’

  ‘Oh yes! He was well connected for sure. The people who came to his evening parties! The Wyat’s carriage was often there.’ Miss Prentice began to check the illustrious names off upon her fingers. ‘And Mr and Mrs Edward Connors – their chaise came very often. And that gentleman who was at Mrs Beaumont’s delightful picnic, Sir Joshua Carrisbrook. Oh yes…’ She considered a moment. ‘Yes, all in all, I think Mr Henderson is of a good family, but that he has been obliged to retrench lately.’

  ‘I see.’ Dido’s suspicions deepened. And, as they did so, she began to feel more and more uneasy about Mr Lansdale. All this did not bode well for him.

  By the time she reached home she had worried herself into a little fever on this subject and she was very much looking forward to a little quiet reflection and an opportunity to write a reply to her sister’s letter. She was not pleased to hear, as she paused in the welcome cool of the hall, the sound of voices coming from the drawing room. She sighed, laid aside her bonnet, and prepared herself unwillingly for company.

  And then, upon opening the drawing room door, she saw Mr William Lomax sitting in quiet conversation with Flora…

  Chapter Six

  She stopped and stared, almost supposing that she had made a mistake. But it was indeed Mr Lomax sitting there in solid certainty beside the open french doors of Flora’s pretty, flowered drawing room. It was the same lean figure she had been remembering; the same long legs stretched across the polished wooden floor; the same, rather grave face – certainly past its first youth, but with remarkably clear grey eyes and that kind of strong chin and profile which give a man distinction as he ages.

  Her surprise was very great: so great as to leave – at first – no room even for pleasure: so great as to overcome her manners and make her demand, rather abruptly, how he came to be there.

  He stood up to greet her, laughing at her amazement – and apologised for being its cause. ‘But your cousin has invited me into her drawing room,’ he assured her solemnly. ‘I am no intruder.’

  ‘I am sorry, Mr Lomax.’ She recovered herself a little and held out her hand. ‘But it is so strange, so very strange, to suddenly meet with a friend I had supposed to be a hundred miles away.’

  ‘A hundred and fifty,’ he said, as he took her hand. ‘I believe it is nearer one hundred and fifty miles, from Belsfield into Surrey.’

  ‘You are a very exact reckoner.’

  He smiled and bowed over her hand. ‘I would by no means wish you to underestimate the journey you have brought me on, Miss Kent,’ he said.

  ‘The journey I have brought you on?’ Dido coloured with pleasure, but just then her gaze fell upon Flora. There was no mistaking her look.

  Flora might not understand an allusion to Shakespeare, she might be entirely deaf to metaphors, but in matters of love she was very quick-witted indeed. She recognised an attachment when she saw it (and even, sometimes, when she did not). Before Dido had sat down, her cousin was delightedly planning a Michaelmas wedding and determining just where the happy couple should set up home.

  Meanwhile, Mr Lomax was explaining his visit. ‘I am staying eight miles away – at Brooke Manor, with Sir Joshua and Lady Carrisbrook. I believe he is a friend of yours, Mrs Beaumont?’

  ‘Oh yes! Yes he is. A very good friend indeed.’

  ‘Sir Joshua,’ he said with a little lifting of his eyebrows, ‘believes that my sole purpose in coming is to convey some papers concerning his property in Somersetshire – and I beg you will not disabuse him of that notion. But he has been so kind as to invite me to stay on for a few days – an invitation which I have been particularly pleased to accept.’

  There was such meaning in these last words and they were accompanied by such an earnest look at Dido as made Flora wonder whether she had better not leave them alone together directly.

  Dido herself hardly knew what she felt – so intent was she upon allaying Flora’s suspicions. ‘My sister told me that business had taken you from Belsfield, Mr Lomax,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘But I had no idea of that business bringing you into Surrey.’

  He leant forward, studied her face. ‘I found,’ he said eagerly, ‘that I must try for an opportunity of seeing you. I could not be quite satisfied with answering your queries in a letter.’ He stopped, seemed to recollect himself and turned slightly so as to include Flora. ‘This rumour against your friend, Mrs Beaumont – it is such a very delicate business, I thought it would be better if we all three talked about it together.’

  ‘You are so very kind Mr Lomax! I am sure we are both very much obliged to you. Are we not, Dido?’

  ‘Oh yes, yes, of course.’ Dido exerted herself against a great confusion of emotions – some of which were most unpleasant. An hour ago, when she had been sitting beside the river, she would have counted such a visit as this to be one of the greatest pleasures life could afford. But now that Mr Lomax was actually here in the room with her, she found that she could not be com
fortable. She must reflect an hour or so in peace upon his looks and his words before she could hope to understand them; but for now, what mattered most was to seem calm – unconcerned.

  ‘It is…’ she began – and her own voice sounded as if it were a long way away – ‘it is very kind of you, to make such a long journey for our sake.’ She turned to Flora. ‘Mr Lomax,’ she said, ‘has studied the law and I hope that he will be able to tell us how great the danger is – I mean as to Mr Lansdale and the rumours which are being spread about him.’

  This was immediately effective in diverting Flora’s mind from the discovery she had just made. She forgot to watch for signs of love and began instead to relate eagerly the whole business of the death, the picnic and all the details of the ‘horrid, horrid, abominable’ things which had been said by Mrs Midgely.

  Mr Lomax listened to her very gravely with his fingertips pressed together and his chin resting upon them, his eyes only once or twice straying, rather anxiously, in Dido’s direction.

  Dido herself began to breathe more easily and by the time her cousin had finished her tale, she was tolerably calm. ‘It is a strange business, is it not, Mr Lomax?’ she said.

  ‘It is certainly very unpleasant.’

  ‘Can you tell us what might happen – I mean if Mrs Midgely prevails upon Mr Vane and persuades him to take some action?’

  ‘Well,’ he said very seriously, ‘if the apothecary has a genuine suspicion of Mr Lansdale, then the law requires that he should bring a complaint against him.’

  ‘And that complaint would have to be made to the magistrates?’

  ‘Yes. And the magistrates would then put it to a Grand Jury – probably at the midsummer Quarter Sessions. And the men of the jury would either dismiss it, or else find it “a true bill” – which would mean that, in their opinion, there was a case to be made against the gentleman.’

  ‘And what would happen then?’ asked Flora eagerly.

  ‘Then, I am afraid, he would be committed for trial at the Assizes.’

  ‘But how dangerous is the accusation?’ asked Dido. ‘How heavily would Mr Vane’s testimony tell against him if the matter were to be put to a jury?’

  ‘That is a difficult question to answer,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It would depend a great deal on just what he has to say of this “Kendal Black Drop”.’

  ‘But Mr Vane is an apothecary. The jury would believe what he told them about such things.’

  ‘That is very true,’ he acknowledged with a reluctant nod. ‘It is so very difficult to determine the cause of any person’s death that the opinion of a reputable medical man must always carry a great deal of weight.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Flora began to wring her hands in great agitation. ‘Oh dear, is there no hope for poor Mr Lansdale?’

  He was dismayed to find that he had distressed her. He had, without knowing it, been addressing himself to Dido’s vigorous mind and had quite overlooked the more delicate sensibilities of her cousin.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said with more gentleness, ‘I would not say that there is no hope, Mrs Beaumont, by any means.’ He turned kindly towards her. ‘I rather think – I hope that the time which has elapsed since the poor lady’s death must materially weaken Mr Vane’s case. You see, if a case were brought, a jury would be sure to ask why, if his suspicions are strong and well founded, Mr Vane did not make his complaint as soon as he discovered his patient was dead.’

  ‘Oh! And so they would not believe that he was telling the truth?’ cried Flora.

  ‘They would be a great deal less likely to believe him than they would if the matter had been raised at the time of the death. Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘Yes, upon reflection, I do believe that this must be Mr Lansdale’s greatest security. In point of fact, I very much doubt that Mr Vane will take the matter any further now. If some fresh evidence were to come to light – something which Mr Vane could reasonably claim had heightened his suspicions – then it might be a different matter. But, as it stands, the case would be unlikely to convince any jury.’ He paused and cast Dido a look of deep concern. ‘I think you had better both put the matter out of your heads entirely,’ he said.

  ‘Oh thank you Mr Lomax!’ said Flora with great feeling. ‘You have quite set my mind at rest.’ She was now smiling very happily. His kindly manner and quiet authority had been more than sufficient to bring conviction where conviction was so very welcome.

  But Dido’s mind was far from being at rest. She was thinking of fresh evidence: evidence which might increase suspicion against Mr Lansdale and send Mr Vane to the magistrates. She was thinking of Mr Henderson’s secret visit; of red-shaded candles and a great many other things. But she said nothing – partly out of consideration of Flora’s feelings and partly out of consideration of the very solemn look which Mr Lomax had turned upon her.

  Chapter Seven

  …It is very considerate of Mr Lomax to travel so far just to ease Flora’s mind, is it not, Eliza? He is a remarkably humane man.

  But I confess that I can take little comfort from the information which he gave us and I remain as anxious as ever about Mr Lansdale. For, you see, by Mr Lomax’s account, the young man’s security must rest upon there appearing no new evidence against him… And I am afraid, Eliza, I am very much afraid, that new evidence may appear.

  Supposing Mrs Lansdale was…receiving attentions from Mr Henderson.(For, though her age must argue against it, her large fortune would certainly render it possible – if she was sufficiently vain and he was sufficiently flattering.) The anticipated marriage of his aunt would be a severe blow to Mr Lansdale’s expectations – and if it should come to light – if Mrs Midgely should know of it and decide to spread it abroad – then is it not the very kind of evidence which would tell most heavily against him? The very circumstance which the jurymen might believe had driven him to desperate action?

  And there is something else which I keep remembering and which troubles me greatly: Mr Lansdale’s remark that he was not guilty of feeling too little affection; did he mean to say that his fault is rather that he feels too much? And, if so, to whom is that affection directed? I will not suppose, for the sake of our cousin’s reputation, that she can be his object – in spite of the look which he gave her as he spoke. But there is no escaping the thought that an unsuitable attachment of his own – one which his aunt would disapprove; one which might have caused her to disown him – would also strengthen the case against him: provide, in the eyes of the jury, a reason for his wishing his aunt dead.

  And, all in all, it seems to me that, if the justices are brought to believe that Mrs Lansdale was murdered, then they will certainly believe Henry Lansdale to be the murderer. The rumours against him must be stopped. I must, somehow, find out the ‘rottenness’ in Richmond before it is too late.

  No doubt, having read so far, Eliza, you are beginning to fear that I am in danger of setting up as a professional solver of mysteries as I once threatened to do. But do not worry: I have not yet leased consulting rooms in town, nor arranged with the brass engravers to announce my existence to the world. I will proceed very cautiously indeed.

  There are, however, several questions to which I am most eager to find answers…

  Dido stopped writing, for it had occurred to her as she completed the last words that the question foremost in her mind was one which she could not share with her sister – or with anyone else…

  It was dusk now and she was once more writing beside the open window of her bed chamber, with a slight cool breeze blowing in upon the stored heat of the day and just lifting the pale curtains. The owl was calling again from the river, and the laughing voices of people returning on foot from a party drifted up from the road. A crane fly had found its way in and circled about the candle before dropping down to tiptoe daintily across her letter. She watched its progress through the black words and once more let her mind return to Mr Lomax’s visit: recalling every speech, every look, every meaning – and every imagined meaning.

>   Why had he come? That was the question which kept recurring.

  She wished most earnestly to believe that his motive was simple affection – a desire to be in her company. And his laughing insistence that she was the true cause of his journey had promised well… But afterwards there had been other remarks which were much less satisfactory – and his looks! Sometimes it had seemed there was more anxiety than affection in his looks. Sometimes she had even suspected disapproval…

  And then he had been most decided in refusing Flora’s invitation to stay to dinner. Of course his excuse that he was expected back at Brooke must be allowed – but he could have regretted that expectation a little more!

  What did it all mean? Was she as dear to him as she had once been, or had he changed?

  The uncertainty was very painful. Perhaps, she thought, a woman of five and thirty was not constitutionally suited to love. The agitations and heightened emotions which were delightful at one and twenty were now become tiresome…

  Although, upon reflection, Dido recalled that she had always been a little impatient in these matters… There had been the young man at her uncle Grainger’s ball, many years ago… Mr Willet… No, Captain Willet. Everyone had said he would make her an offer that evening. And he had been half an hour stammering the most trivial nonsense to her on the terrace, after saying that he particularly wished to talk to her… Half an hour of the state of the roads and its being, ‘a remarkably dry season, do you not think, Miss Kent?’ In the end Dido had lost patience with him and returned to the dancing – and so had never known whether she might have aspired to the dignity of becoming Mrs Willet.

  Ah well! She would certainly listen for more than half an hour to Mr Lomax, if he was ever got to the point of stammering upon a terrace, but, in the meantime, there was little she could do but wait for more opportunities of being in company with him, and watch his behaviour closely when they were together…