A Gentleman of Fortune

by Anna Dean

  Chapter Nineteen

  …And so you see, Eliza, now I cannot help but suspect dear Mr Hewit. Which is very unpleasant indeed. I wish with all my heart that this business of solving mysteries would work out some other way and one had only to detect guilt in people one did not like. I am quite at ease suspecting the dreadful Mrs M, or even the whining Miss Neville. But Mr Hewit, who looks so very sad and talks so very gently and who is, furthermore, almost certainly in love with dear Miss Prentice, it is just too bad to have to wonder whether he is a murderer!

  And then what am I to make of Sir Joshua being unwilling to talk about the mysterious Mr Henderson?

  Is there, I wonder, some shame to be attached to knowing that gentleman? Shame seems the most likely cause of his evasion, does it not? And yet during the time of his residence in Richmond, Mr Henderson appears to have been entirely respectable – or else how did he associate with such people as Miss Prentice saw attending his parties?

  All of which can only lead me to suppose that something has befallen him since his time here. An embarrassment over money affairs would seem the most likely misfortune to have overtaken him. Certainly his sudden removal from Knaresborough House, together with those other proofs of his limited means, accord well with his debts having been called in.

  I wish I could discover more about Mr Henderson – in particular, where he is now. And, to this end, I have taken a measure which I do not think you will approve. I have written a letter of enquiry to the agents who let the house. But do not worry! I have not exposed myself. I have only said that I was acquainted with the gentleman during his stay in Richmond, that I borrowed from him some songs to copy and I am anxious to return his property – which, by the by, I thought a remarkably clever story! And I have asked whether they can tell me where I might direct the package.

  I know you will dislike this deviation from the strict path of truth. But it is only a small one – and made in a worthy cause. And there is this to be said for my little lie: it will not inflict any pain. I only wish I could say so much for the rather large truth which I must now unfold to Flora.

  You see, it is only right that she should know the secret I discovered about Mr Lansdale over the game at Brooke Manor; but I do not think that she will like to hear it. For I cannot help but think that it is only her very great determination not to know it which has kept her blind so long…

  I have just taken my scissors to some old visiting cards and made a very tolerable set of alphabets with which to show her how the trick was done…

  Dido scattered her alphabets across a table in the breakfast room and Flora watched her in bewilderment.

  ‘I do not at all see how this can be necessary! If you would but tell me what you have to say, I daresay I would understand very well indeed.’

  ‘I have no doubt you would. But you might not appreciate my cleverness in discovering it,’ Dido answered with a smile. It would be best, she thought, to treat the whole matter as a game. She must, at any rate, not seem to think that Flora had any particular interest in the information she was about to communicate.

  Flora looked out of sorts – which was not to be wondered at since her cousin was being so very mysterious – and the hood of the barouche-landau had leaked rain upon them in their return from Brooke – and this morning the rain continued to fall.

  Beyond the windows, rain dripped disconsolately off roses and formed muddy little pools in the new flower garden. Within the pretty room the open netting box, the two discarded novels and the bound volume of Dr Johnson’s The Rambler which were scattered on Flora’s sofa spoke of her efforts to fill the dull, confined morning. The blank look on her face bore witness of her failure to do so.

  She was in a mood to be diverted.

  ‘You say that you have discovered what it is that Mr Lansdale is uneasy about?’ she asked Dido.

  ‘Yes. It is a secret – something which, I fear, may well make the world suspect him of harming his aunt?’

  Flora looked concerned, but, for all that, she said anxiously, ‘You did not ask him any horrid questions did you?’

  ‘No,’ said Dido virtuously, ‘I can set your mind at rest on that point. I do not believe I addressed a single question to Mr Lansdale yesterday. I did not need to. I only had to watch the things that he said and did, in order to discover…’

  ‘To discover what? Tell me! I declare I hate mystery more than anything in the world!’

  Dido looked down at her alphabets and began to move them around the table with one finger. ‘To discover,’ she said quietly, ‘that he is secretly engaged to Mary Bevan.’

  There was silence in the room. From outside came the sound of rain splashing on the glass and running freely down the gutters. Dido pretended to be intent upon her letters: forming them into little lines, breaking them up, rearranging them.

  ‘Engaged?’ said Flora at last in a tolerably steady voice. ‘How can you think so? No, he cannot be! I always know about these things.’

  ‘Ah, but they have been most anxious to keep it hidden and I do not think…I am sure you did not wish to suspect them…’ Dido continued to look at her alphabets. ‘You are his friend, of course you would not wish to suspect him of double-dealing.’

  ‘But it is just too shocking! Why ever should you think of it?’

  ‘Well,’ Dido ran on, keeping her eyes upon the table and allowing her cousin time in which to recover. ‘I have suspected it these last few days. There were hints. Miss Bevan’s receiving letters which she wished no one to know about was one – and then there was her choice of books. It is, in my experience, very unusual for an unmarried lady to read books upon household management, unless she is engaged and expecting soon to have a home to manage for herself. And then her reading about the lake country pointed out a possible connection with Mr Lansdale. Once that possibility had arisen, of course, I looked about for an opportunity for the engagement being formed – and I recalled that they had both been at Ramsgate last autumn.’

  Dido paused and looked up quickly at Flora. To her relief, she seemed to be more wondering than distressed.

  ‘Of course,’ she continued cautiously, turning her attention back to the letters, ‘his devoting himself to such a good friend as yourself was another clue. He knew that there was no danger in paying attentions to you – for such a sensible and very happily married woman would not be misled by them.’

  ‘No. No, of course not,’ said Flora with at least an air of calm.

  ‘With you he was safe. And while he played that game, he hoped no one would suspect him of any attachment to Miss Bevan. Under cover of flattering you, he could pay attentions to Mary which she might understand, but which would pass unnoticed by everyone else. It was very cleverly done.’

  ‘Admirably! If indeed it was done.’

  ‘Oh, it certainly was.’

  Dido judged that Flora might now be looked at again. There was a little heightening of colour in her cheeks but nothing else to suggest suffering. It was to be hoped that she really did care nothing for the young man beyond friendship. And Dido was very pleased to see that, if she did care, she was determined not to show it.

  ‘Well! I am sure it is the strangest thing I ever heard!’

  ‘I have been reluctant to believe it myself. But then, yesterday, all my suspicions were confirmed.’

  ‘How? Did you overhear them talking together?’

  ‘In a way, yes I did,’ said Dido with a smile. ‘I shall explain it all to you. Do you remember,’ she began, ‘the conversation at luncheon yesterday?’

  ‘Very little – except it was the dullest talk in the world! I do not think Mr Lansdale said anything at all.’

  ‘He certainly did not say a word during the last half of the meal. And do you recall the point from which his silence originated?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It began after Mrs Midgely informed the company that she had procured a situation for Miss Bevan.’

  ‘Did it?’

  ‘Yes, I
am sure that it did. And you see that news presented him with a terrible dilemma. Ever since it was decided Miss Bevan must go out as a governess I am sure he has been wondering whether or not he should make public the engagement. Publicity is much to be desired for Miss Bevan’s sake and yet…’

  ‘And yet he dared not tell his aunt of it!’ cried Flora.

  ‘Exactly so. I daresay he feared she would cut him off. And then, after she died…’

  ‘Why! Revealing the engagement would make the gossips say that he wished his poor aunt out of the way. Oh dear, how perfectly dreadful!’ Flora was sitting very straight upon her sofa now. Her hands held to her face. Whatever else the news of Mr Lansdale’s attachment had meant to her, it had certainly proved a cure for ennui. ‘Why, Dido! After Mrs Lansdale died, he had to keep the engagement hidden. He dared not let it be known.’

  ‘Quite so. Though I do not think silence suited his gallantry at all. I do not doubt that he was longing to make the announcement which would save Miss Bevan from her guardian’s officious schemes. And I rather fancy that it is only her opposition which has prevented him.’

  ‘Oh yes, for I am sure he is the most gallant man that ever lived!’

  ‘Well, I confess that I too am rather inclined to think well of Mr Lansdale after what I observed yesterday. You see news of this situation in Yorkshire burst upon him at luncheon. Clearly Miss Bevan had found no opportunity to tell him of it herself. At Brooke he discovered that Miss Bevan was to be sent away almost immediately. He could not allow it to happen and he was quite determined to prevent it. He wanted only her permission to announce the engagement to the world.’

  ‘But how do you know this?’

  ‘Because, my dear Flora, he asked for her permission while we were all in the drawing room.’

  ‘But he cannot! It is impossible! How could he ask her before all those people?’

  ‘I will show you how it was done.’ She carefully assembled her alphabets into three words: relative, license, solver. ‘These,’ she explained, ‘were the words that were made in our game yesterday. And there is a great deal of meaning hidden in them. This first one was the anagram which Mr Lansdale made and which Miss Bevan discovered.’

  Flora stared at it. ‘Relative? What did he mean by it? Was he referring to his aunt? Or to Mrs Midgely perhaps…but no, he cannot have been, for Mrs Midgely is not a relative of Miss Bevan’s… My dear Dido why would he wish to say anything about a relative to Miss Bevan?’

  ‘He did not. Remember, the letters were not in this order when he put them on the table. Relative is only the word Miss Bevan chose to make, in order to hide his meaning from the others. This is the message which she really saw in the letters…’

  With a few quick movements Dido rearranged the letters: reveal it.

  ‘Oh! Oh, Dido, how very clever you are!’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said feeling more gratified than she would have liked to admit – and perhaps rather better pleased with herself than the occasion merited.

  ‘But how can you know that she understood his meaning?’

  ‘Because she replied to him. This is the message which she passed back to him.’ She took the second word – license – and rearranged the letters: silence.

  ‘Oh! And the third word?’

  ‘That was my message to Mr Lansdale.’

  ‘Solver? You meant to tell him that you hoped to solve the mystery of his aunt’s death?’

  ‘Not quite – although that is what he pretended to see in my message. In fact he saw my meaning and knew that I had discovered his secret.’

  She moved the letters of the last word: lovers.

  Chapter Twenty

  …Well, Eliza, I rather think that Flora has had enough to distress her for a while, so I have very kindly allowed her to go away to dress for dinner without saying any more about the danger which I foresee in this engagement: that it might be thought to supply a powerful motive for Mr Lansdale to wish his aunt dead. For it is undoubtedly true that Mrs Lansdale was a proud woman and would not have looked favourably upon such a connection. It is very doubtful that he could have married Miss Bevan while his aunt was alive, without losing her favour – and her fortune. In short, the publication of the attachment would provide exactly that kind of damning evidence against the young man of which Mr Lomax spoke.

  All this, I am sure, is clear enough to Flora, though I think it pains her to talk of it. I hope, for her sake, that this engagement can remain secret a little longer – and for his own sake too…

  Dido laid down her pen and turned to the looking glass on the toilette table beside her, frowning at the little round face which peered out so anxiously from its dark surface. She had, from the beginning, prided herself upon being disinterested. She had set out neither to blame nor exonerate, only to ensure that justice was done by coming at the truth. Yet now she had to confess that she would much rather that truth was not Mr Lansdale’s guilt. And she did wish most heartily that his engagement might be concealed a little longer, for its publication would certainly bring a world of trouble upon his head.

  ‘But you have no proof at all that that trouble would be unmerited.’ That is what Mr Lomax had said when she talked to him about the matter yesterday.

  They had contrived to have a few minutes conversation in the hall at Brooke while they were all waiting for the carriages. They were standing by the window watching rain slant across the terrace and the rest of the party were occupied with saying their farewells.

  ‘I think,’ he had urged her, ‘that you had better leave well alone. After all, my dear Miss Kent, what proof do you have of his innocence, beyond a pleasing person and very plausible manners?’ He stepped closer and spoke with gentle urgency. ‘Have you considered that Mrs Midgely might know of this engagement between Mr Lansdale and her ward; that it may have been the reason for her visit to Mrs Lansdale – she went to inform her of it.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dido replied quickly, ‘I have considered it. And I have also considered the next point which you are about to make.’

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘That Mr Lansdale might well have wished his aunt dead before Mrs Midgely could call again and expose him.’

  He smiled. ‘I doubt there is any need for me to argue against you when you can argue with yourself so well!’

  ‘I have certainly argued myself out of that explanation, Mr Lomax. For it will not do. Why should Mrs Midgely wish to put an end to the engagement? Is she not the very woman to be delighted by a connection with the powerful family of Lansdale? Would you not expect her to enjoy visiting the great house in Westmorland? And to enjoy talking about the visit afterwards even more? No, I am convinced she knows nothing of the engagement. She would think again about maligning Mr Lansdale if she knew that such a connection was at stake.’

  He sighed. ‘It seems to me that you are not willing to countenance the possibility that the young man might be guilty!’

  ‘I am not so unreasonable! No, I will accept that he might be guilty…’ She hesitated, shook her head. ‘But, if he is, what of the lap-dog?’

  ‘Why do you believe the dog to be significant?’

  ‘Because its death proves that there were forces at work in Knaresborough House that night which were quite unconnected with Henry Lansdale. Indeed I am convinced that the killing of the dog proves that there were strangers in the house that night – for I can see no other reason for its needing to be silenced.’

  He sighed. ‘You are very determined.’

  ‘And,’ she continued, ‘there are a great many things which Mr Lansdale’s guilt cannot explain – the burglary, and Jenny White and Mrs Midgely’s malice.’

  ‘Well, well, you may be right. But none of this makes Henry Lansdale an innocent man.’

  ‘Perhaps it does not, but it proves that his trial – that his conviction – would leave a great many mysteries unexplained. And that is why I think it would be better avoided – or at least delayed.’

  ‘And I thi
nk,’ he said rather forcefully, ‘that you had better not put yourself in danger by being seen to interfere. You would be well advised, Miss Kent, to allow justice to take its course.’

  Unfortunately they had been interrupted before she could reply. The carriages were announced and everyone was on the move.

  Now, loitering over the toilette table in her chamber, she regretted that they had not been able to talk longer, but did not think that he would have been able to convince her. She sighed and took up her pen again.

  Poor Miss Bevan! My heart goes out to her, Eliza, and I find it so very difficult myself to contemplate her fate, I find myself so disgusted by the idea of her going to this terrible place which has been chosen for her, that I cannot help but doubt Mr Lansdale will allow her to go. When it comes to the point I am almost sure that he will stop it in the only way possible to him – by announcing their engagement to the world.

  And then what will become of him? Oh dear, Eliza, he is a great deal too handsome to be hanged!

  There is I am sure another story to be told about events at Knaresborough House upon that fateful Tuesday evening – a tale very different from the one Mr Lomax suggests. And I am quite determined to find it out.

  Firstly, I must find out more about the visitors who came there. Were they Mr Henderson and Mr Hewit? Was there a lady with them to play upon the instrument? Well, there is one person who can answer these questions if he chooses – the butler, Fraser. Though I am not sure how I shall find the courage to approach so dignified a servant, nor do I have any great hopes of his telling the truth. For whatever secrets his late mistress had would not have lasted so long without his collusion. But I shall attempt it.

  And, second, I intend to find out more about the burglary: in particular what part Miss Neville and her acquaintance, Jenny White, may have played in it. I find I cannot trust Miss Clara Neville. I am sure she is hiding something from me; all the time that I was talking with her at Brooke I felt that there was something wrong about the things she was telling me. Why should she blush and look uncomfortable while only talking about such an unexceptionable errand as visiting her mother? What was the ‘bad business’ which she wished Mr Vane not to talk about?