by Anne Herries
‘Is there something you need, Miss Horne?’ one of the girls asked.
‘Yes. I have a headache coming on. I need something to stop it or it may develop and I shall be prone on my bed. I wondered if there was anything that I might take for it?’
‘Miss Rudge could make you one of her tisanes, miss,’ the first girl suggested, looking concerned.
‘I do not think that would serve. I need something stronger.’
‘You need laudanum, miss,’ Bessie said. ‘Mr Jensen keeps it in his room under lock and key. He gave me some for the toothache some weeks ago and it took the pain away something wonderful. I did not use it all for I had the tooth drawn the next time I went to Truro—and I should be happy to fetch it for you.’
‘Thank you, Bessie,’ Marianne said. ‘But I think perhaps a tisane will be sufficient after all.’ Bessie had been so open and straightforward that she could not think her the kind of girl who would creep into her employer’s room in the dead of night to steal laudanum. And if she had not, then someone else must have done so…unless her great-aunt had imagined the whole thing? She considered for a moment and then dismissed it. No, she did not think it was that. Lady Edgeworthy did not seem the kind of lady who would be given to foolish fears for nothing.
Marianne went out into the garden. It was a pleasant evening and she thought she would like a breath of air before dinner. She had not lied when she said that she had a bit of a headache, though it was rare that she needed to lie down on her bed.
There was not time enough to walk as far as the cliffs, so she decided to head for the stream. It was out of sight of the house and came up from the ground in a little spring, meandering down through a little valley where the rhododendron bushes grew in profusion. She had come too late to see their glory, but the leaves were dark and glossy and it was a pleasant place to walk.
She walked as far as the stream, wishing that she might go further, but knew that she must return or keep everyone waiting for their dinner. As she came through the wilderness of the rhododendrons, she saw a man walking towards her and she frowned. What was he doing here at this hour?
‘Are you lost, Mr Beck?’ she asked, for he was a long way from the path that led to the top of the cliffs.
‘No, not at all, Miss Horne,’ Drew said. ‘I was bird-watching and I wandered further than I intended.’
‘Indeed? What kind of birds were you watching?’ Marianne frowned—surely there were more gulls to be seen from the cliffs and she had seen only sparrows bathing in the dust and a blackbird.
‘I thought I saw an eagle,’ Drew said. ‘I am not certain now, for it is unlikely, don’t you think?’
‘Very unlikely,’ Marianne said. ‘There are not many tall trees here, Mr Beck. I do not imagine that golden eagles nest much in rhododendrons, do you?’
‘No, of course not. I meant a fish eagle, of course. They are seabirds and sometimes nest on the cliffs—but this one seemed to fly inland. I dare say I was mistaken.’
‘Yes, I imagine you were,’ Marianne said. She had not heard of a fish eagle, and did not think it was a resident of Britain, but she could not argue the point for she did not know the habits of such a bird, or even if it existed. And yet she sensed that he was lying. He had improvised, saying the first thing that came into his head. Indeed, she wondered if he knew much about seabirds himself. If he had not been bird-watching as he claimed, what was he doing here? He surely could not be following her for how could he have known she would choose to come this way? ‘Might it not have been just a large gull?’
‘Yes, I dare say it might,’ Drew said, cursing himself for the slip of the tongue. He had remembered now that the fish eagle was an African bird and fed on freshwater fish, and hoped that she would not notice his mistake. ‘Do you walk this way often, Miss Horne?’
‘Not often,’ Marianne said. ‘I imagine it will be pretty in early summer, but I like the views from the cliffs—as you do, Mr Beck. It is surprising what one may sometimes see from there, is it not?’
‘Oh, indeed. I have seen the occasional seal and the gulls, of course.’
‘I was thinking more of the ships one sees now and then. There was a ship anchored in the bay the other day—I thought it might have been French.’
‘Did you? How strange! One would not expect it. We are still on difficult terms with the French, are we not?’
‘I thought it might have belonged to smugglers.’
‘Ah…’ Drew looked at her through narrowed eyes. It was as he had feared when he knew there was to be a visitor to the estate. She had an inquiring mind and she liked to walk, which could prove dangerous if she saw too much. ‘I suppose there is always that possibility. The strained relationship with France tempts men to bring in goods for which we are normally obliged to pay heavy taxes. If you did see such a ship, it might be best to forget it, Miss Horne. Desperate men sometimes do desperate things.’
‘Are you warning me, sir?’
‘For your own good,’ Drew replied. ‘Turn a blind eye for your own sake—and that of your great-aunt.’
‘I wondered if you might know more about smugglers than you do about birds, sir,’ Marianne said, for she had remembered something she had read in one of her father’s natural history books. ‘Good afternoon, sir. I think your eagle must have flown a long way from his home.’
Drew watched as she walked away. He could not help a wry grin, for she had caught him out. He must learn to think before he spoke another time. Fish eagle indeed! An osprey might have been more believable, though they tended to nest in Scotland rather than on the Cornish coast—but it was slightly more credible.
He sensed that Miss Horne was suspicious of him. She had not accepted his story of being ill—and she certainly didn’t believe that he had been looking for an eagle, of any kind. He would have to be careful if he wanted to retain his false identity!
Marianne was lost in thought as she returned to the house. She was growing more and more certain that her great-aunt’s tenant was not what he claimed to be—but who was he and why was he here?
As she approached the house, she saw that Joshua was standing in the garden. He appeared to be contemplating the view, but came to meet her as she walked through the shrubbery. He smiled at her in a way that she thought a little too ingratiating, and she decided that she did not quite like him—though that was unfair on such short acquaintance.
‘Ah, there you are, Miss Horne. Miss Trevor told me that she thought that you had gone out for a stroll before dinner. Do you often walk in the evenings?’
‘Not often,’ Marianne said. ‘I prefer the early morning, before most people are about. It is very peaceful then. I like to be up as soon as it is light enough.’
‘There are some pretty walks on the estate, I believe. I do not often walk, for I prefer to ride—but I dare say it is good for one’s health.’
‘Oh, yes, though in the past I used to ride quite often,’ Marianne said. ‘My favourite walks are along the cliffs. There is a spectacular view from there on a clear day.’
‘Yes, though in places they can be dangerous,’ Joshua said. ‘You must be careful, Miss Horne. It might be best to stay away from the cove. The walks are safer on the other side of the bay. It was at the cove that Lady Edgeworthy’s cousin fell to his death, you know—such a tragic thing. He had lived here all his life, and should have known that the cliffs could be treacherous there.’
‘Yes, that was strange, wasn’t it?’ Marianne said and frowned. ‘Do you think he might have lost his way in a mist?’
‘I have no idea. I was not here at the time,’ Joshua Hambleton said. ‘The accident happened while I was in Spain. I was with the army for a while. I took little part in the fighting, because I was employed as a communications officer at headquarters most of the time. My chest was never strong and I had to give up my commission some months ago. I came back here and Lady Edgeworthy was kind enough to let me live in her London house.’
‘I am sorry that you we
re forced to give up your career, sir.’
‘Yes, for it was quite promising. I might have gone into a diplomatic post afterwards, but someone else was preferred and I had to settle for a quieter life. I have a small income and I manage well enough.’
‘That was disappointing for you,’ Marianne said. ‘But could you not have tried again later?’
‘Perhaps.’ He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I confess I have become lazy and I am content to see my friends and entertain a little. I go on very well, you know. I have lately made some investments that bring me in a living. I am not an ambitious man, Miss Horne—but I live very comfortably.’
‘I am glad you are content with your situation,’ Marianne said. She sensed that he had controlled the frustration he had felt earlier and was now making an effort to be charming. Indeed, she felt that he had gone out of his way to explain his situation to her, and she was not sure why, for it was surely not her business to inquire. ‘Changes in fortune are not always of one’s own making—but it is rewarding to feel one has done something worthwhile, I think.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ he said and smiled at her, giving a nod of approval. ‘What a sensible young lady you are, Miss Horne. You seem to think just as you ought on everything.’
‘Perhaps not everything,’ Marianne said and laughed. ‘You do not know me yet, sir. You may not be so approving when you do.’
‘I think you are teasing me,’ he said. ‘I doubt that I could ever disapprove of you, Miss Horne—or may I call you Marianne? Lady Edgeworthy is so very fond of you and I am glad you have come to be with her. She already seems much better. I am sure that is all to your credit.’
‘I am glad you think so,’ Marianne said. She did not give him the permission he sought to use her name, because something about him was not right. She could not say with any certainty what that might be, but she felt that his smile—indeed, everything about him!—was false. He did not feel as he spoke. He was trying to make a friend of her, though at first she had sensed he was annoyed that she had come.
If he had hoped to dispose of Lady Edgeworthy for the sake of her fortune, he would find Marianne’s presence in the house a nuisance. But she must not jump to conclusions, because she had no real reason to suspect him of anything yet. It was just that she did not like him. It was most unfair of her to form an opinion when she knew nothing about him, but she could not help herself. She had liked and trusted Drew Beck from the first moment of speaking to him, even though she knew that he was hiding something from her—but she suspected that she knew his true reasons for being here. However, she felt no such confidence in Mr Hambleton and continued to be a little distant with him as they went into the house together.
Naturally, she must be polite to her aunt’s guest, but she was not yet ready to trust him.
Marianne woke with a start. It was quite dark in her room and for a moment she lay wondering what had disturbed her sleep, then, hearing an odd sound, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. She reached for the tinder and lit the candle, which stood on a chest beside the bed, listening for the sound again.
All she could hear now was the wind in the trees and a spattering of rain against the window. Her instincts alert to danger, she unlocked her door and went along the passage to Lady Edgeworthy’s room. She turned the handle very softly but it held and she felt a surge of relief. Her great-aunt was safe—but that noise might have been someone trying to enter the house.
She was not quite sure what it had been—perhaps a door that was stiff to open or something being dragged across a stone floor, but it had been strange…hollow and muffled.
Holding her chamber-stick tightly in her right hand, Marianne crept down the stairs on bare feet. She had heard nothing more since leaving her room, but she knew that she had heard something and she could not simply return to her room and pretend that it hadn’t happened. She would never forgive herself if an intruder did some damage to the house, or, worse still, inflicted harm on Aunt Bertha.
Her room was situated at the back of the house, and so she instinctively turned that way. Suddenly, she saw a flickering light and knew that someone was coming from the wing of the house that contained the kitchens and servants’ hall. Unsure what she ought to do, Marianne blew out her candle and drew back into the shelter of a tall clock, waiting and watching.
A man was coming along the hall, the light of his candle giving her a clear view of his face. It was Mr Hambleton! Marianne hesitated and then moved forward.
‘You startled me, sir. I thought you were an intruder.’
Marianne had the advantage, for she could see him and he had clearly not known that she was there. He looked startled, his expression shocked.
‘What are you doing, Miss Horne?’ Joshua demanded. ‘Why have you no candle?’
‘It blew out,’ Marianne told him. ‘I heard an odd noise and came down to investigate.’ She had noticed that he was fully dressed, which was quite odd in itself, and his coat sleeve had a film of cobwebs on it.
Joshua seemed to hesitate for a moment, then, ‘You heard it, too? I came down to investigate some minutes ago. You may have heard me checking windows and doors.’
‘Oh…’ Marianne was not sure why, but she did not quite believe him. ‘Do you think we should rouse the servants?’
‘No, I have made sure that the house is safe,’ he said and she caught the note of annoyance in his voice. ‘I am sure it must have been the wind getting in some crack in the roof somewhere that we both heard, and then, as I said, you may have heard me checking. There is no need to cause an uproar, Miss Horne. It would only distress Lady Edgeworthy.’
‘Yes, it would,’ Marianne agreed. ‘Goodnight, sir. I shall go back to my room.’
‘Let me tend your candle for you,’ he said. ‘If you are a light sleeper, I suggest that you take more care when you come down another time, Miss Horne. Had I been an intruder, you might have been in some trouble.’
‘Yes, I might,’ Marianne said. ‘It was fortunate that you were here to make sure we were safe, sir.’
Marianne turned away, guarding her candle flame. She frowned as she returned to her room and locked her door. Where had Joshua been and why was she certain that he had lied to her? He said that he, too, had been roused by a noise, but she thought that it was he who had made the noise. Whatever he had been doing, he clearly did not wish her to know about it.
Marianne was certain that his actions were suspicious. She did not know what he hoped to gain by creeping about below stairs in the middle of the night, but she was sure that he was doing something he ought not. And it made her wonder if he had tried to give Lady Edgeworthy an overdose of laudanum in her peppermint cordial. He had everything to gain if she became very ill and died, for he was her main heir.
Oh, how horrid it was to have to consider such things! She did not even wish to think about it, but of course she must. Her great-aunt was relying on her to help her, and she must do all she could to prevent another attempt on her life.
She shivered as she got into bed and pulled up the covers. She could not rule out Dr Thompson and Miss Trevor, and of course Miss Rudge, though she was too elderly and too attached to her employer. However, Marianne’s instincts told her that they were all innocent of any evil intent towards Lady Edgeworthy. Somehow her suspicions had become centred on Mr Joshua Hambleton. She ought to give herself more time to know him before she judged him, of course. She sighed as she turned over in bed. It was no use, she could not trust or like him…
Chapter Four
The next day was damp, a sudden rainstorm sweeping in from the sea in the early morning, forcing Marianne to stay indoors. She spent the morning finding small jobs that she might do for her great-aunt, though in a household that catered for so few there was little she could do other than arranging flowers and making an inventory of the jars on the shelves of the stillroom. She had tried to put the incident of the night before from her mind, because for the moment she had no intention of telling
her great-aunt anything about it.
When Lady Edgeworthy came downstairs she looked a little pale and tired and said that she had been feeling sick during the night. However, she did not confide her thoughts until she and Marianne were alone in the best parlour later that afternoon.
‘I dare say it was because I ate too much supper last night,’ she said. ‘I took a dose of my peppermint cordial before I went to bed, but it did not seem to suit me.’
‘Perhaps it is time that you had a new preparation,’ Marianne said. ‘Could it have deteriorated over time?’
‘It was the new bottle that Dr Thompson sent me,’ her great-aunt said. She frowned as she glanced round. They were alone in the parlour, but the door was not quite shut. ‘I feel a little chilly, my dear. Will you be so good as to shut the door?’
Marianne got up to close the door. Returning to her chair, she asked the question uppermost in her mind. ‘Was your medicine locked away last night?’
‘Yes. I keep the key in my dressing box, but I cannot think that anyone…’ Lady Edgeworthy shook her head. ‘Why should anyone want to harm me? I have begun to think that I imagined it all that night. Perhaps I had used the laudanum myself—or it was Bessie, as you suggested.’
‘No, I do not think so,’ Marianne told her. ‘I mentioned that I had a headache yesterday and Bessie told me that Mr Jensen had a supply of laudanum. She said nothing of you, and I think she might have, had she once borrowed some from you.’
‘Then it must have been someone else—or my imagination.’ Lady Edgeworthy looked upset. ‘I do not know who it could be—perhaps it was all in my mind.’
‘Perhaps,’ Marianne said. ‘But if I were you, I would find another hiding place for the key to your cabinet. It may be nothing, but I would throw the peppermint cordial away.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Lady Edgeworthy agreed. She gave a little shudder, for it was too awful to contemplate. ‘We shall think of something else, Marianne. Are you certain that Mr Beck intends to take tea with us this afternoon?’