The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2)

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The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2) Page 24

by Dawn Harris


  Eventually I fell into a deep sleep, and woke up much later than usual. With the sun streaming into the room I felt a little foolish at the measures I’d taken. And I smiled to myself, imagining my maid’s bewilderment if she had seen what I’d done. But fortunately, I’d left her at home, having decided my aunt’s maid could do what little I needed.

  There was no sign of Richard and Mr. Hamerton when I breakfasted with my aunt and uncle, and we assumed they had gone out early to enjoy the sunshine, for it was another glorious day. It also meant I was safe and could relax for a while.

  I expected Mr. Reevers to call, as he had promised, but when we made our way to the upstairs room where we were to view the procession, he had still not arrived. And I wished he would hurry up. Once I’d seen Mr. Dundas I could enjoy the day, and not before.

  I’d arranged for the servants to watch the procession from one of the other upstairs rooms, so I was a little surprised when the butler came in carrying a letter on a salver. I groaned inwardly, suspecting it was from Mr. Reevers informing me he couldn’t call this morning after all. But, as I took the letter, the butler told me, ‘Mr. Tanfield said I was to give you this, my lady, if he wasn’t back by half past ten.’

  In some relief that Mr. Reevers would still call, I thanked him, and asked casually, ‘Did Mr. Tanfield say where he was going this morning?’

  ‘No, my lady. But he and Mr. Hamerton left very early. Before breakfast, in fact.’

  I frowned, wondering why they should do that, but I said nothing and the butler left the room. As I broke the wafer it struck me that perhaps they’d gone sailing, intending to be back in good time for the procession, and this note was to explain why they might be late.

  I was quite wrong. Inside was another sealed letter inscribed, “To be opened in the event of my death, or arrest.’

  CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN

  As I tore open the single sheet of paper, Aunt Thirza burst out anxiously, ‘Whatever is it, Drusilla. You’re as white as a sheet.’

  I didn’t answer at once but my uncle reassured her in his usual calm manner, ‘When Drusilla has read the letter, my dear, I’m sure she will tell us.’

  Richard had obviously written it in a hurry, his large handwriting covering the whole sheet.

  My dear Drusilla,

  I wish to God I could find some course other than the one I am taking today, but there is nothing else to be done. All my recent troubles have been caused by one man and today I mean to settle things once and for all. It is the only way I can change my life, and that of Julia, Edward and our unborn child, for the better.

  If I do not return I beg you to make Julia understand I had no choice. That I preferred death to dishonour. Tell her Septimus was right when he said those who abuse their power should have it removed. That is why I must rid England of this tyrant, or die in the attempt.

  Hamerton stands with me and I am determined to go through with it. I am, as you know, a good shot, and will take my chance.

  Yours etc.

  Richard.

  My hand shook as I passed the letter to my uncle, and my aunt begged, ‘What does he say? Tell me, for heaven’s sake.’

  I lifted my shoulders in despair. ‘You had better see for yourself, Aunt.’

  She barely waited for my uncle to finish reading before snatching it out of his hand. By now my mind was in turmoil. What was it that Richard meant to do? The conversation I’d overheard between him and Mr. Hamerton in the garden, concerned what would happen in August. And this was only the end of June. It seemed I had got it all horrifying wrong. And if Richard was dead, how could I face Julia?

  ‘What does he mean by it, Drusilla?’ my uncle demanded worriedly. ‘Who is this tyrant he speaks of?’ I saw the fear in his face, for he knew, as we all did, that was a word the French had often used to describe their King.

  ‘I wish to God I knew,’ I muttered. ‘I was aware something was very wrong, but he would never tell me what it was. ‘

  ‘Julia. She must---’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell her either. She has been dreadfully worried about him.’

  ‘You must have some idea, Drusilla?’ Aunt Thirza insisted agitatedly as she laid the letter on the table.

  I shook my head, but before I could speak, the butler came in with another note. I took it from the salver, thanked him and as he left, feverishly broke the seal, certain the contents concerned Richard. I was wrong.

  ‘It’s from Mr. Reevers.’ I saw their anxious faces relax a little and I went on, ‘He meant to call this morning, but his duties have forced him to postpone his visit until tomorrow.’

  I cursed under my breath. I had to see Mr. Dundas today. And I refused to wait another minute. Mr. Reevers could easily arrange it, and once he had done so, I need never see the wretched man again, I thought miserably.

  Thus, without stopping to think, I blurted out, ‘Uncle, would you escort me to Government House please? I must see Mr. Reevers at once.’ I wanted to get this last meeting with him over with, before I weakened, before I gave way to my longing to give him a second chance.

  He raised his brows in surprise, but before he could answer, Aunt Thirza warned, ‘Drusilla, you should never be seen to chase after any man. It is not at all seemly.’

  ‘I am not chasing after him,’ I snapped. ‘Will you come with me, Uncle? If not, I shall go by myself.’

  ‘Go by yourself?’ Aunt Thirza echoed in disbelief.

  ‘Must you repeat everything I say, Aunt,’ I muttered irritably.

  My uncle came to sit beside me, and took my hand in his. ‘This isn’t like you, Drusilla.’ And he reminded me they were as worried about Richard as I was.

  His kindness, and all the pent-up unhappiness of the past week threatened to overset me, and as I fought to regain my composure, my aunt turned on me. ‘Charles is right. You haven’t been yourself ever since we left Windsor. You are a constant worry to us,’ she fumed, shaking her finger at me. ‘You were out alone when those robbers attacked you on the cliff, and when you rescued Mudd, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, you called on Mr. Reevers without a chaperone----’

  ‘That’s why I want Uncle Charles to escort me now. I cannot walk into Government House on my own.’

  ‘I should hope not,’ Aunt Thirza retorted in shocked tones. ‘But surely it can wait. If you both go, I will be alone.’

  ‘It won’t be for long, my dear,’ my uncle promised. ‘And you have the servants to look after you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  But, as I stood up, the door burst open and Richard stormed into the room. I almost cried with relief. At least he was alive. He threw his hat onto a chair and spotting his letter on the table where my aunt had left it, he muttered, ‘So you’ve read it then?’

  ‘We all have,’ I said, as Mr. Hamerton quietly followed him into the room and took a seat. Now I knew the truth about him, his presence made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Whatever else happened, I had to make very sure I was never alone with him.

  Richard said, ‘Well, you can stop worrying. The whole wretched business was stopped, and we were warned what to expect if we tried again.’ Pacing up and down the room, he suddenly slammed his right fist down onto the table. ‘If I find out who laid information against us, I’ll run him through.’ He turned to Mr. Hamerton, his eyes smouldering, ‘If it was you, I’ll----’

  ‘It wasn’t. On my word as a gentleman.’

  ‘Then it must be someone associated with Compton-Smythe. He didn’t want to fight me in the first place and---’

  I cut him short. 'Who is Compton-Smythe?’

  ‘I told you in my letter.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. All you said was, you meant to rid England of some tyrant. You didn’t mention his name.’

  ‘Didn’t I? Well, no matter. The duel was stopped anyway.’

  ‘Duel?’ I exclaimed in horror. ‘Are you saying you called this man out?’

  ‘Yes, of course. That’s in my letter too,’ he reiterat
ed testily. Silently I handed him his note, which he read and threw back onto the table. ‘Oh, all right, so I didn’t actually mention a duel. I wrote it in a hurry. But you must have realised. I mean, what else could I have meant?’ I shook my head at him, thinking of the anguish I’d suffered on his account. ‘The thing is Drusilla, calling that blackguard out was the only way to---’

  'Yes, but -- who is this Compton-Smythe?’

  ‘He commands one of His Majesty’s ships, and is the son of an influential and wealthy Admiral.’ Richard sneered, ‘But the man’s a disgrace to the service. I had to strike him across the face with my glove before he would accept my challenge. That’s the kind of weasel he is. And when the constables stopped the duel, he actually had the nerve to accuse me of being the one who informed the magistrate.’ He stood looking out the window, his hands clenched.

  ‘Why did you call him out, Richard?’ I asked evenly.

  ‘I – I can’t say.’

  Looking across at Mr. Hamerton I raised my brows in a questioning manner. He took the hint and going over to Richard, put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s my belief you should tell Lady Drusilla.’

  Richard muttered, ‘What good will that do?’

  ‘You and I haven’t been able to resolve this matter. Lady Drusilla has a sharp brain. She, or Mr. and Mrs. Frère might think of something we haven’t.’ Richard lifted his shoulders, but said nothing, utter despair written in every line of his face.

  My uncle tried to reassure him. ‘Anything you tell us will go no further than this room, Richard. If we can help, we will. And gladly.’

  Richard slumped into a chair and put his head into his hands. After a moment he sat up and looked round at us all. ‘Very well, I will do as Hamerton says, but I do not see how anyone can help. It began in the winter when our squadron was chasing the French fleet. We were caught in a storm and in that situation ships can become detached from the main force. As was my own ship, and Compton-Smythe’s. Some way ahead of us a French ship of the line was likewise cut off. A ship comparable to Compton-Smythe’s but twice the size of my own.’

  We all nodded in understanding of the situation. ‘Compton-Smythe, being the senior officer, ordered me to attack the French ship at once and capture it. He then promptly sailed off in the opposite direction and I realised he did not expect to see me again. At least, not alive. If I had attacked there and then, as ordered, my ship would have been blasted out of the water, as he well knew.’

  My aunt asked in puzzled fashion, ‘He wanted you dead?’ Richard nodded. ‘But why?’

  Richard looked down at his hands, carefully studying his fingernails. ‘I first met Compton-Smythe when I was given a ship soon after the outbreak of war. He did not like me, nor I him. He treated his men like dirt, considered their survival of little importance, and had them flogged for the slightest misdemeanours. Foolishly, I did not keep my opinions to myself. My views got back to him, and ordering me to attack that ship was his way of dealing with the situation. But I had no intention of throwing my life away, or those of my men, in that senseless manner. Instead I followed the French ship and when it anchored in a bay – probably to repair damage caused by the storm, I kept out of sight and waited until it was dark. By then the sea had calmed a great deal, and soon after midnight I led a boarding party to take the ship. The Frenchies were all asleep, apart from the few on watch, and we captured it without losing a man.’

  My uncle commented, ‘A very sensible strategy.’

  ‘I thought so, but Compton-Smythe was furious. He accused me of disobeying a direct order, and of – of – cowardice.’ He spat the word out, as if the use of it somehow tainted his very being. ‘He swore he’d have me court-martialled. I immediately asked to see Lord Howe, told him what had happened, and he sent me back to my ship. And then----’

  ‘You slipped and fell down the gangway,’ I put in.

  ‘An hour before the fleet sailed,’ he acknowledged with a groan. ‘I was unconscious for two hours and laid up for several days. Compton-Smythe sailed with the fleet, but before he left he wrote to the Admiralty, accusing me of disobeying his order out of cowardice. One of my officers, a surly brute I’d had to discipline more than once, swore I’d had to drink a huge quantity of alcohol before I led that boarding party.’ He gave a snort of utter disgust. ‘As if any man in his right mind would slow down his reactions with drink just before a fight. He also said I had deliberately fallen down the gangway rather than meet the French in battle. Before they sent me home, I was summoned to the Admiralty to give my account---’

  ‘That was the day we met,’ Mr. Hamerton intervened. ‘A friend persuaded me to go to a meeting of the London Corresponding Society, where I got talking to Richard. Neither of us expected to meet again.’ And he urged Richard to tell us what had happened at the Admiralty.

  ‘If I must,’ he sighed. ‘They said nothing could be decided until Howe and Compton-Smythe returned to port. So I still don’t know if I’m to be court-martialled.’

  ‘I wish you’d told me about it,’ I said. ‘You were so unlike your usual self, I thought you must be involved in something dreadful.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Drusilla. I wasn’t thinking sensibly. In the end I decided to settle Compton-Smythe myself. I had meant to wait for the Admiralty to make up their minds about a court-martial, but when we reached Portsmouth on Tuesday and I saw his ship at anchor, I sought him out and challenged him to a duel. He said he didn’t accept challenges from his inferiors. That was when I struck him across the face with a glove. But that will count for nothing if I am court-martialled. He’ll tell the court I had the duel stopped, to prove I’m a coward -----‘

  ‘How can he?’ I broke in. ‘You didn’t do any such thing.’

  ‘No, but he’ll find a way. I know he will. He’s already accused me of it. My only hope is to find out who really had the duel stopped. And how am I to come by such evidence?’

  No-one spoke, for such a problem appeared insurmountable. I said, ‘The magistrate who stopped the duel must know.’

  Richard shook his head. ‘I’ve already tried that. It took me a while to find him, which is why I’ve been out so long, but he refused to name the informant.’

  Seeing how that might be overcome, I said, ‘It may still be possible. Let me try, Richard, before the celebrations start.’

  One glance at the clock told me I could not expect Mr. Dundas to see me now until after the celebrations. So I went into the library and wrote to Mr. Reevers, explaining what had happened to Richard, and asking if he could use his influence to find out what Richard needed to know. I added a postscript, heavily underlined, that I must see Mr. Dundas today, as I had some vital information for him. After which I sent for Mudd and told him to take the note to the Governor’s House and hand it to Mr. Reevers personally.

  Richard needed all the assistance he could get if he was to win his fight against those with influence in high places. If that didn’t work, well I was acquainted with people of influence. The highest in the land, in fact. I didn’t know if the King, or Mr. Pitt, would listen, but if Mr. Reevers couldn’t help, I would do everything I could to stop Compton-Smythe using his power to threaten the life and career of such a fiercely loyal patriot as Richard.

  There being nothing more I could do then I went back upstairs, joining my aunt and uncle, who had an excellent view of what was going on down in the street. The chairs were arranged by the window so we could watch in comfort, and the good-natured, jubilant throng, growing larger by the minute, raised a cheer every time someone of importance rode past on a horse, or in a carriage. The pie and muffin sellers were enjoying a brisk trade, and people gawped in wonder at acrobats and jugglers who entertained them. I was watching a sailor dancing the hornpipe, when Richard and Mr. Hamerton appeared and settled themselves in comfortable chairs. Not surprisingly Richard was still very downhearted.

  It was nearly an hour before Mudd returned with Mr. Reevers’ answer to my query. Breaking the seal, I read his repl
y, which said that he’d spoken to the magistrate in question, who was one of the local dignitaries gathered at Government House. The magistrate had sent a servant to his house nearby, to collect the written information he’d received, giving details of the duel. He’d enclosed this note and hoped it would prove of use. The information was written in a small hand, but was not signed. And my heart sank.

  I handed both pieces of paper to Richard. He quickly perused Mr. Reevers’ brief note, looked at the informant’s letter and immediately spluttered, ‘Well I’ll be....’ He looked up at me, his eyes alight with hope. ‘I would recognise that spider’s scrawl anywhere. It’s Compton-Smythe’s own handwriting. He laid the information himself.’

  I couldn’t help smiling at his exuberance. ‘Well, he could hardly ask someone else to write it for him, could he. It would be bound to get out. Besides, the local magistrate wouldn’t be familiar with his writing.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he said, scarcely able to believe it himself. He leapt to his feet, put the note on the table and slammed his fist onto it. ‘I’ve got him, Drusilla. I’ve got him.’ Richard passed the note to Mr. Hamerton and almost did a jig around the room.

  While my aunt and uncle read it, I said, ‘I’m so pleased, Richard. What will you do now?’

  ‘I’m going to show this to Howe.’

  ‘What, now?’ I asked.

  ‘If I can. He’ll be at the ceremony, and I might manage a word with him beforehand.’ He grabbed my hands and squeezed them. ‘I cannot thank you enough, Drusilla. This will finish Compton-Smythe. And he had the nerve to call me a coward.’ Eagerly he turned to his friend. ‘Come with me, Hamerton.’

  I saw no reason why he should not go with Richard, indeed I would feel very much safer if he did. As they hurried off, my uncle said, ‘That was very good of Mr. Reevers.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed. He’d assisted Richard at once, I thought darkly, but done nothing at all about my seeing Mr. Dundas. He hadn’t even mentioned it in his reply. As if that was of no importance whatsoever. Telling my aunt and uncle it was only polite to thank Mr. Reevers, I stormed back to the library in such a fury at him ignoring my request, that I slammed the door behind me. I wrote thanking him for helping Richard, then informed him bluntly that unless he arranged for me to meet Mr. Dundas the instant the King left Government House, I would call on that gentleman myself. Without an introduction. After all, the Governor’s House was only a three minute walk away.

 

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