When Midnight Comes

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When Midnight Comes Page 13

by Beryl Matthews


  ‘Lord Danton comes regularly and is a remarkable shot.’

  Lord? So the boy was passing himself off as being titled. He hid his surprise and asked, ‘Is he good enough to hit a fast-moving target?’

  ‘Yes, your lordship. He has a good eye.’ Knowing they were talking to a relative of Edward’s they were eager to praise his abilities.

  This news confirmed that the boy was almost certainly the culprit, and the disappointment Charles felt at that moment was crushing, but he knew, family or not, he had to be dealt with. Harry was his loved son and he would do anything to protect him, even if it meant turning in one of his own family to the law.

  He spent another night at his club, and headed for home at dawn the next day without seeing a sign of Edward.

  The moment he arrived home he went straight to his son’s room and was relieved to see him looking more rested with a little colour in his face.

  ‘What news?’ he demanded immediately, and listened with a grim expression to what his father had found out. He laid his head back, looking stricken. ‘Damn! I’m sorry. I was really hoping it wasn’t Edward, but it must have been him.’

  ‘I’m afraid so, and now we have to prove it, which isn’t going to be easy.’

  ‘And if we can’t, what do you intend to do, Father?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He ran a hand over his tired eyes. ‘But the blasted fool must be dealt with somehow. If he’s tried to kill you once, we will never be sure he won’t try again, and you will spend your time looking over your shoulder.’

  Seeing his father’s anguish he reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘We could confront him and threaten him with prosecution if he tries anything like this again.’

  ‘No, I couldn’t risk that. From what I heard he is desperate for money and needs you dead before you change your will.’

  ‘He’s too late. I did that while you were in London.’

  ‘That’s a relief. Can I ask what you have done with the estate?’

  ‘I’ve bequeathed it to someone who loves the animals and, I believe, would take good care of the place.’

  ‘Oh, and who is that?’

  ‘I won’t tell anyone, not even you, because that would put them in danger, and if you know it could also put your life at risk.’

  ‘I understand.’ Charles went to stand up when there was a gentle rap on the door and the butler looked in.

  ‘Mr Edward is here asking for you, your lordship. Will you come down, or shall I send him away?’

  ‘Well, I’ll be damned. He’s got a nerve.’

  Harry was grinning now. ‘He’s come to check up on me.’

  ‘He mustn’t know you are on the road to recovery, or he will surely find another way to get to you. We must convince him you are gravely ill. I’ll come down,’ he told the butler.

  ‘Bring him up here.’ Harry reached out and dabbed water on his face and then settled against the pillows, eyes closed. He opened one eye. ‘How is that?’

  ‘Not bad, but I’ll dim the lights, though, and draw the curtains a little more, so he can’t see you too clearly. And send up one of the maids to sit in the room. It would look strange if someone wasn’t with him all the time,’ he told the butler.

  Once everything was in place, he hurried down to see his nephew.

  ‘Uncle, I’ve just heard the terrible news about the attack on Harry. No one here will tell me anything. How is he?’

  ‘The prognosis is not good, I’m afraid. This injury on top of those he suffered in the war could prove too much for him.’ Charles let his eyes cloud with moisture. ‘I was in London for a couple of days on business and hoped to see you at the club.’

  ‘Ah, I’m sorry; I have been in Bath for two weeks so didn’t see your letter until I returned to London. May I see Harry?’

  Charles hesitated as if unsure. ‘I suppose you could, but I must ask you to be very quiet. He mustn’t be disturbed.’

  Edward agreed and followed his uncle up to the bedroom. He walked straight up to the bedside and studied the still figure of his cousin for some moments. ‘Is he conscious?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.’ Charles took hold of Edward’s arm and indicated that they should leave. ‘The maid will tell us if he wakes.’

  Back in the library Charles offered his nephew a drink, which he declined.

  ‘I can’t stay, Uncle. I came as soon as I read your letter. It doesn’t look good.’

  ‘We haven’t given up yet. We have an excellent doctor tending him, and he has kept him alive so far.’

  ‘Hmm. It’s going to take a long time, though. He’s only been home a short time so if you need any help with the estate I would be happy to stay.’

  ‘Not necessary, but I appreciate your offer. I’ll let you know when there is any news.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who did this?’

  Charles shook his head, knowing it was important not to let Edward know he was a suspect. ‘Not yet, but we will find him; you can have no doubt about that!’

  ‘You said “him”, but have you thought it might be a woman? That girl you had working as a stable lad could have hated him for sending her away.’

  ‘Chrissie? Good heavens, she wouldn’t know how to fire a gun, let alone hit a moving target. That takes a skilled marksman.’

  ‘I wouldn’t rule it out,’ he persisted. ‘She spent time with some Travellers and they must have guns to hunt for food. Rabbits are very fast-moving targets, and they might have taught her.’

  ‘That’s a possibility, I suppose, but highly unlikely, and she has left the area and is probably back in London again by now.’

  ‘Well, let me know if I can help at any time.’

  ‘I will, you can be sure of that.’ Charles watched Edward mount up and ride away, and then he went back to his son and dismissed the maid.

  Harry sat up. ‘Did we fool him?’

  ‘I think so, and he wanted to stay and help with the estate. I expect he believes you haven’t been home long enough to change your will.’

  ‘He would have been correct if that bullet had killed me. Tell me everything he said.’

  When Charles had finished, Harry looked thoughtful. ‘Sounds as if he came to set up an alibi by saying he was in Bath at the time of the shooting. That needs to be checked.’

  ‘I’ll send someone to the gaming houses he frequents. He was very keen to put the blame on Chrissie, but she would never harm anyone.’

  ‘You have great faith in her character, and I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘It’s obvious he’s trying to turn our attention away from himself. I hate to suspect he did this but everything we’ve found out so far points to him.’

  ‘I agree, and I wish it were otherwise.’

  ‘Yes, it is a sad state of affairs, and we must be very careful, Harry. If he believes for one moment that we are investigating him there is no telling what he might do.’

  ‘I’ll send for a man who was with me at Balaclava. No one knows him and he is a fine investigator, and he can be trusted. Without him I would never have got back to this country.’

  ‘Good idea. We really need help.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  The last week had at least been peaceful, even though the mistress had shown her hostility to Chrissie by making her work from early morning till late in the evening doing all manner of unnecessary jobs. It was clear she blamed her for her son being sent away to a boarding school, and was showing her frustration at not being able to dismiss her.

  Chrissie scrubbed the long hallway until it gleamed, determined Lady Gretham wouldn’t be able to find fault. If she hadn’t given her promise not to leave before Sir Gretham returned she would have walked out days ago, but she tried never to break a promise, and she didn’t know where else she could go.

  ‘What the blazes are you doing?’

  She spun round at the sound of the angry male voice and hurriedly stood up. ‘Scrubbing the floor, sir.’
<
br />   ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I was told to, sir.’

  ‘By whom?’

  ‘Lady Gretham, sir.’

  ‘That is the scullery maid’s job. You were engaged to help look after the children.’ He dropped his case on the floor, and when she went to pick it up, he said sharply, ‘Leave it.’

  ‘I was going to take it up to your room, sir.’

  ‘What you are going to do,’ he stated furiously, ‘is take that bucket back to the scullery and resume your proper duties.’

  ‘I haven’t quite finished the floor and Lady Gretham will be angry if it is left like this.’

  ‘And I will be even angrier if you continue, Miss Banner.’ He moderated his tone. ‘Now, do as I say.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ She picked up the bucket and scrubbing brush and hurried back to the scullery. The young maid was waiting and took the cleaning things from her.

  ‘I’ll finish it, Chrissie. It’s my job, anyway. You should never have been told to do it.’

  ‘My, my,’ the cook declared, ‘there’s going to be trouble, and just wait until the master finds out how you’ve been treated while he was away.’

  ‘I’d better go and collect my things together ready to leave. I can’t stay here when I’m only causing upset.’

  ‘Oh, don’t leave,’ Nurse told her. ‘He’s a good man and he’ll deal with this. He has married below his station and the marriage has only lasted because he spends so much time away.’

  Chrissie shook her head. ‘That is none of my business. I must move on.’

  ‘But where will you go?’

  ‘I’ll find somewhere.’ She smiled sadly and made her way up to her room, sick at heart. What was the matter with her? She always tried to do whatever she was asked to do, never complaining, and yet she didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. That wasn’t quite true, of course. She had been completely happy at the Frenshaw estate with those beloved horses, and his lordship had been a real gentleman. She had honestly believed that was the right place for her – until the son had arrived home.

  She pulled the box from under the bed, opened it and gazed in to the crystal ball. Her mind was so full of memories of Midnight and Red Sunset that she actually saw them gazing at her with sad eyes. She closed the lid quickly, the image too painful to look at, then did something unusual for her, she began to cry in great sobs of loneliness and grief for what might have been.

  It took a while to compose herself, and then she was ashamed of her weakness. Feeling sorry for herself would not solve anything, in fact it would only add to her problems. After splashing her face with water from the bowl in the room she tidied her hair and resolved not to be so silly again.

  ‘Chrissie!’ The butler called her from the bottom of the stairs. ‘The master wants to see you.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ she replied, hurrying down the servants’ stairs to the library, where she hesitated. He had been very angry and she was sure she was about to become homeless again.

  She tapped lightly on the door and walked in when he said ‘Come’.

  He was sitting behind a large desk and rose to his feet when she entered. ‘Sit down, please, Miss Banner.’

  She did as ordered, and waited.

  ‘Can you read and write?’

  That wasn’t what she had expected at all, and for a moment she hesitated. ‘Yes, sir.’

  He pushed a pen and paper towards her, and then handed over an official-looking document. ‘Copy the first paragraph of that for me, and make it as near to the original as you can.’

  Completely at a loss to understand what this was about, she set about the task of copying from the document. When finished she replaced the pen in its holder and handed him the sheet of paper.

  He studied it for some time, and finally looked up at her. ‘That is an exact copy. The lettering is almost identical to the original. Where did you learn to write like this?’

  ‘I went to school, sir.’ What on earth was he doing this for?

  ‘That is obvious, but that is not what I’m asking. Who taught you to write such beautiful script?’

  ‘My dad showed me how to do it. The Travellers have their own teachers, and my dad used to do all the notices because he was good at fancy writing.’ Her smile was wistful. ‘After the day’s work was done we used to play a game to see who could make the best copy of each other’s writing, or draw the best picture. He always won.’

  He stood up and went to the bookcase, searching for a particular volume, and when he found it he opened it at a page showing a picture of a bridge. ‘Copy that for me.’

  Thoroughly confused by now she set about the drawing. From a young child she had been able to draw, and had never thought much about it.

  He waited patiently, not speaking while she worked. After examining the finished work thoroughly, he slapped it down on the desk and got to his feet, walking over to stare out of the window.

  Suddenly he spun round. ‘What the devil are you doing working as a servant?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘You have a talent. Why aren’t you using it?’

  This was getting silly and she was losing patience with all this talk. What did a man like this, born to privilege, know about the life of the poor? ‘Sir, I was brought up in the slums of London where every day is a struggle to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. It doesn’t matter how bright you are, no one’s going to give you a good job. Society thinks all we are good for is scrubbing floors and being treated like the dirt we come from.’ Her eyes turned almost black with defiance. ‘Well, some of us are not ignorant or dirty, but it’s bloody well impossible to get away from that, as I am finding out. I have always dreamt of coming to the country and making a good life for myself, but it’s no different here. I’m still that girl from the slums.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll get my things and be on my way.’

  ‘Sit down. I haven’t finished talking to you yet.’

  ‘I think you have, sir. You are about to tell me Lady Gretham doesn’t want a troublemaker in her home, so you don’t have to bother. I already know.’

  ‘Is that what you think this is about?’

  ‘Of course. What other reason could there be for calling me in here?’

  ‘Sit down again and I’ll tell you.’

  Reluctantly, she did as ordered. He had moderated his tone again, and what did she have to lose by hearing what he had to say?

  ‘I apologise for raising my voice to you, Miss Banner. I was not angry with you, but I get angry when I see anyone being denied a decent life just because they were born poor. You may not believe this, but I do understand the struggle some have to drag themselves out of the gutter. But let me tell you, it is possible. I am involved in helping the underprivileged with talent towards a more productive life. I have one such boy working for me in London.’

  She sat up straight, suddenly interested in what he was saying.

  ‘I noticed from our first meeting that you are bright, and even though life has not been kind to you, you kept on trying to improve your life. I believe the severe setbacks you have encountered have not dimmed your resolve. Now I have discovered you have a talent that can be put to good use. I need help and will promise my support to see you get the kind of life you yearn for. Will you agree that we will help each other?’

  She leant forward, intrigued but suspicious about what this handsome, successful man wanted from her. From what she had seen of his marriage it wasn’t a good one, and she wasn’t daft or ignorant about the ways of some men, especially the upper class. She knew of several young girls who had been taken advantage of while in service, and then abandoned. Nothing like that was ever going to happen to her!

  ‘Well?’ he raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

  She sat back and folded her arms. ‘State your case, sir.’

  He laughed. ‘I see you want me to plead my cause.’

  ‘If you would, please, sir.’

  ‘Very well. First, I must say that you have a very e
xpressive face and I can quite easily guess what you are thinking. I have no intention of taking advantage of you, and I am certain you would not allow it anyway. There are one or two ladies who would be willing to pamper to my needs, should I so wish it, which I don’t,’ he told her bluntly. ‘What I am looking for is someone to copy documents that must be done by hand. If you will agree to do this for me I will see what I can do to advance your standing in life.’

  ‘How can you do that?’ Hope and excitement was building inside her, but she wanted to know more.

  ‘You will work on an urgent document here first, then once my local business is finished, I will take you to my London chambers.’

  ‘Chambers?’

  ‘Offices. Your duties will be to copy documents when necessary, run errands, and any other tasks that need doing.’

  ‘Scrubbing floors?’

  A slow smile crossed his face. ‘Certainly not. I have a cleaner to do that.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back to London. I have struggled hard to get out of that place.’

  ‘It will only be for a week or two at the most, and then you can come back here.’

  ‘Where would I stay while in London, sir?’

  ‘You will lodge with my colleague and his wife. You will be quite safe.’

  She looked down at her shabby skirt and then back at the man behind the desk. ‘What will they think about taking in a girl from the gutter, as you so vividly described it?’

  ‘I will see you are dressed appropriately for your new position.’

  ‘And what will that cost me?’

  ‘Nothing. Accept it as a token of my gratitude for the help you are about to give me.’

  ‘I won’t accept gifts from any man, sir. If I need new clothes I will have to be able to buy them out of any money I earn. I assume I will be paid for this work?’

  He inclined his head. ‘Of course. You will be in my employ and will be paid in accordance with the position of office junior. I admire your caution.’ He wrote down something and pushed the note towards her. ‘That will be your salary.’

 

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