The Apothecary (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 3)

by Mary Kingswood

Adam glanced at Annie, but she gestured to him to continue, although pleased that he had asked first.

  “We wish to know something of Mr and Mrs Henry Huntly at that time,” he said cautiously. “Mrs Huntly was living in Ireland at that time, is that not so?”

  “Aye, that she was, with a fella called Connell. Bad woman, she were.”

  “Indeed. And Mr Huntly was settled here, was he? He did not travel about?”

  “Not he. Liked to sit by his own fire, he did.”

  “And Mrs Huntly — did she ever visit?”

  The old coachman chuckled lasciviously. “Aye, just the once. He were that pleased to have her home, so he was. Couldn’t do enough for her. Bought her jewels and a fancy phaeton to drive herself about in, but after a couple’a month she upped and went back to Ireland again. Took the jewels with her and all. Never came back. He sold that phaeton within a week, and after that he never left the house till he were carried out in a box, poor man, ’cept for church.”

  Adam gave the man a guinea for his information, and they left him to his polishing.

  “There you are, Cousin Annie,” Adam said, with just a hint of smugness in his tone, as they returned to the hunting room. “James Huntly is indeed the true son of Uncle Henry and Aunt Bridget.”

  “Yet she denies it,” Annie said, reaching for the letter again. “Here… ‘ His father is my very dear husband, Mr Connell, and let no one say otherwise for it is a scurrilous lie which I shall deny to my dying breath.’”

  Adam shrugged. “I daresay she dislikes having the whole business raked up after all this time, and perhaps Mr Connell is unaware that the child was not his. And in truth, Annie, it hardly matters who fathered the poor child, for he is long dead and cannot trouble us.” He paused, and then laughed. “Ah! You are not satisfied, I can see. Now tell me, cousin dear, what is going on in that clever brain of yours. There is something bothering you still.”

  Oh, the pleasure of being invited to explain! She gave a little shiver of delight, then smoothed her skirts. “There are several points which make me curious. Mrs Huntly attempted a reconciliation with her husband, but left after two months. Let us suppose that when she left she was with child. She went home to Ireland, was reunited with her lover, she was confined and the baby died. Did she tell her husband of the baby? If so, why does she now deny that he was the father? And if she did not, how did he know enough of it to add the child’s name and the day of his birth to the family Bible? And why—? But no, that is a foolish idea.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You will say I am being fanciful.”

  Placing his hand ostentatiously on his heart, he cried, “I swear I will not do so. Tell me all your thoughts, and I promise to consider them without preconceptions.”

  His theatricality made her laugh, but she saw the sincerity in his words, so she said, “Very well. Mrs Connell says that James died as an infant, yet she talks of him as if he is alive.” She waved the letter again. “Listen. ‘He is none of his handiwork. His father is my very dear husband.’ And then the line ‘James died in infancy’ is added afterwards, and the ink is a shade darker, as if the words were written at a different time. So my brain, which is not at all clever but dislikes oddities, wonders whether in fact James is still alive and at large somewhere hereabouts. Whether he has been to Willow Place, hiding himself in the boat house. And whether he met Rupert on the path from Wickstead, and shot him through the heart. And his mother knows it and is trying to divert us by telling us that he is dead. You see? I told you it was fanciful.”

  “No,” he said slowly. “No, that makes perfect sense. There could be other interpretations — perhaps more likely ones — but it is a possibility. I think… no, I am certain that I should mention this again to Sir Leonard. Unless… do you wish to tell him yourself?”

  “It would be best for you to do it,” she said, with unaccustomed bitterness. “After all, you are a man and he will listen to you, whereas he considers me a deluded and irrational creature.”

  Adam smiled gently. “And in that he could not be more wrong.”

  She could not help returning his smile. Such a joy being listened to and asked her opinion and regarded with respect, as a person worthy of a man’s attention. She had had her differences with Adam, and still disliked his tendency to withhold information from her, but on the whole she liked him very well. Had circumstances been different, she could easily have lost her heart to such a man.

  If only Rupert had been more like Adam…

  18: The Lawyer And The Captain

  Annie was sufficiently reconciled with Adam to invite him and his brothers for dinner the following night. Perhaps she had not quite forgiven him for keeping her in the dark regarding the man she had seen in the gardens, but he had assured her that it was only a romantic tryst, not a threat, and not his secret to reveal. She must accept that, and not harbour resentment for a reserve which was honourably founded.

  Perhaps her tolerance was due to other factors. Her mother had quietly taken over the management of the house. While never usurping Annie’s role as mistress or countermanding her orders, Mrs Dresden somehow managed to make everything run more smoothly. Everyone seemed more content, and that ease of spirits could not fail to transmit itself to Annie, too.

  She had begun to receive condolence visits, too. Mrs Popham had never ceased her calls, but now she called more often, and after a week or two, others of the neighbourhood called to express their shock and sorrow, with varying degrees of sincerity, and to try, subtly or more overtly, to find out why Mr Huntly had been murdered. Lady Alicia Ransome displayed more animation than Annie had ever seen in her before. It seemed that a widow was vastly more interesting to her than a mere wife. Annie did not much like the prying curiosity her callers displayed or what she felt was excessive interest in the murder, but she was glad to feel that she might at last begin to make calls herself, when it was proper for her to do so.

  Lady Charlotte Litherholm, now returned from the Duke of Falconbury’s estate, also came.

  “My dear, so dreadful!” she wheezed, her plump face creased with distress. “Camilla and I were so very upset to hear of your tragedy. To lose your husband in the full bloom of your marital affection! Such a piteous end to all your hopes. Camilla has been crying unremittingly ever since we heard the news, have you not, Camilla?”

  “Yes indeed, Lady Charlotte,” her companion whispered, dry-eyed. “Unremittingly.”

  “I hope he has left you well provided for, my dear, for there is nothing sadder than a widow scrambling to maintain her place in society when she has not two pennies to rub together. Now, you will not be contemplating such matters for a considerable while yet, but I do trust that when you emerge from your grief, you will not rush too quickly into a second marriage. Take my advice and reflect very carefully upon it before you do. Society presses women to place themselves and their fortunes into the care of a man, but it is not in the least necessary. Look at how comfortably Camilla and I go on, with not a man to be seen anywhere! We do not feel the lack, do we, Camilla?”

  “Oh, no, Lady Charlotte. Not in the least.”

  Annie could not help but smile at this well-meant advice, and if she had Lady Charlotte’s fortune, and a nephew who was a duke, and happy to provide her with a substantial estate of her own, she might well be content never to marry, too. But she only said diplomatically, “Thank you for your kind advice, Lady Charlotte. I will consider my future most carefully, I assure you.”

  Once or twice Annie’s mother had probed delicately on the subject, too. She was of the opinion that a husbandless woman was only half a person, for how else should a woman live except to be of service to a man? Her only purpose in life was to create a home where every domestic detail was perfectly managed, to raise children of whom their father could be proud, and to make her husband’s home life so comfortable that he might make his mark in the world with nothing else to worry him. When her husband had died, she had gratefully attached herself to U
ncle Tom’s household, seeing her brother as an acceptable substitute for her care. Naturally she now began to look about for a second husband for Annie. And there was one name which sprang readily to her mind, especially as he was so often in the house supervising Jerome’s hunt.

  “Mr Adam Huntly is such a charming young man, is he not, dear one?” she said, as they sat companionably with their sewing one day, just after Adam and Jerome had taken their leave.

  “Very charming,” Annie said, adding dryly, “He charms all the ladies with equal facility.”

  “Indeed he does! Such easy manners! Quite a delightful man! And so attentive to you in your time of need. When word first reached us of your tragic loss, it was the greatest comfort to know that you had a gentleman to support you and take care of any… unpleasantness.”

  “Yes, he made all the arrangements for the coffin and the funeral,” Annie said, correctly divining the nature of the unpleasantness referred to. “He has been very helpful, searching for the will and taking care of outstanding bills.”

  “A single man, and with a substantial independence, as I understand it. Quite three thousand a year, Mrs Popham told me, and no encumbrances. And just think if the two estates should be combined! Why, what a fine income he would have then! Five thousand a year, dear one. Is that not a happy thought?”

  “Indeed it is, but he has not inherited yet, Mama, and may never do so.”

  “Inherited? No, for you may have a son, and that would be wonderful, but even so—”

  “And there is James Huntly, too,” Annie said quickly, hoping to deflect her mother from this unsettling train of thought.

  “Oh, but he did not survive infancy. Judith told me that. So you see there is nothing to stop you joining the estates, and he likes you very well, I fancy.”

  “Now, now, Mama, do not be matchmaking.”

  “Oh, no, dear one! I hope I should never be so vulgar! Goodness, no. And naturally it cannot be thought of until you are quite out of black gloves. But one cannot help observing that it would be a most suitable match. Observing, dear one… no more than that, I assure you. The convenience of merging two adjoining estates, and such an agreeable man, and very attentive to you.”

  “Oh, Mama!” Annie said, shaking her head in affectionate bemusement. “If you are looking to make a match, surely Judith would be a more appropriate choice. She and Adam have known each other for years, and get along tremendously.”

  “Judith? Oh no, I do not think so. I should have thought—”

  Annie never found out what her mother thought, for Sheffield came in at that moment.

  “Beg pardon, madam, but there is a post-chaise approaching in something of a hurry.”

  One of the advantages of a long, open drive was that visitors could be seen a good mile away from the house. Usually, this allowed ample time to reach the entrance hall before the arriving carriage had drawn up outside. Not on this occasion, however. The chaise was in such a rush that it was already outside the door, the horses lathered from exertion and the dishevelled travellers in the process of disembarking, by the time Annie had made her way there. It was two persons she had never seen before in her life. One was a man dressed in the height of London fashion, the other a very small man wearing a garish blue and yellow striped waistcoat and a sword.

  “Madam!” cried the fashionable one. “We are arrived at last, as you see. I can only express my abject apologies for the delay, which is to be set entirely at my door. I must beg your forgiveness for I have failed in my duty!” he ended, with a melodramatic flourish and a deep bow.

  Annie had no idea how to respond to this, so she said calmly, “I do not quite understand you, sir, but I can see that you have travelled a distance in great haste. Will you come inside and refresh yourself, and your companion too, and you may explain your business to me?”

  “You are too kind… too indulgent. You must have been expecting me long since, and I should indeed have been here but I had no notion… not the least notion. I have been greatly remiss.”

  “I assure you I have not been expecting you at all,” Annie said, shepherding the two men through the door and into the great hall. “I think your horses will not be able to travel further tonight, so you will—”

  “Not expecting us? But this is Willow Place, is it not?”

  “It is, sir.”

  “And you are the bereaved Mrs Huntly?”

  “I am indeed, sir. Is this about my late husband?”

  “It is, it is! I am come, belatedly, about your entitlement, and very sorry I am that it is so long in reaching you, but I have been sadly misled, it seems, and yet I do not know how I might have avoided it, for one cannot accuse a lady of lying, you know. Indeed, it would be unspeakable, and we had no idea, not the least idea in the world.”

  Annie laughed. “I wish I had the least idea what you are talking about. Ah, Mrs Cumber, please prepare two rooms, and tell Mrs Hewitt that we will be two extra for dinner. Who is left in the stables? Billy? Tell him to take the greatest care of the horses, for they looked to be exhausted. Gentlemen, will you—?”

  “No, indeed, we cannot impose upon you, madam. There must be an inn nearby where we can obtain accommodation.”

  “Not for some miles, I fear, for we are very remote here. Besides, the wind has shifted, so there will be rain soon. It is my pleasure as well as my Christian duty to offer shelter to strangers, whatever your business here.”

  “You do not know why we are here?” the fashionable gentleman said. “You are Mrs Huntly?”

  “I am, but there you have the advantage of me gentlemen.”

  The small man chuckled. “What a bone-head you are, Willerton-Forbes! Did I not say you should write ahead?”

  “But we could be here sooner than a letter, and—”

  Annie exclaimed in surprise. “Mr Willerton-Forbes? Are you by any chance Lavinia’s brother-in-law?”

  His face lit up. “You are expecting me!”

  She shook her head. “We have been at cross-purposes, Mr Willerton-Forbes. I am Mrs Rupert Huntly. Your business is with my sister-in-law, Mrs Herbert Huntly. You are here to give her one thousand pounds from the Benefactor.”

  “Yes!” he cried, his face lighting up. “At least… I do hope so. It is a little confusing. You see—”

  “No, no!” Annie said, laughing. “Please, no more explanations! We dine early here, and you will want to unpack and change in good time. There will be ample opportunity to disentangle the business for us over dinner.”

  The gentlemen protested, of course, but Annie would not withdraw her offer. Their horses were exhausted, and her own had not yet returned from taking Uncle Tom and Aunt Hester to Guildford. Mrs Dresden added her quiet voice to Annie’s and between the two of them they persuaded the two men up the stairs just before the dinner bell sounded. Mrs Cumber was already busy in one of the guest rooms, and amidst the bustle of luggage being brought in, and the housemaids rushing about with sheets and towels, Annie’s mother said to her in an undertone, “Shall you send for Mr Adam Huntly? Another gentleman at table would be most beneficial.”

  Under other circumstances, Annie would have said stoutly that three women could manage to discuss a little business with two gentlemen over mutton and braised kidneys, but she could see the advantage of a male perspective, and their visitors might talk more freely to Adam over the port. Leaving her mother to settle the guests and acquaint Judith with developments, Annie penned a note to Adam and dispatched Billy, the groom, to convey it to Wickstead Manor.

  Mr Willerton-Forbes and his friend, Captain Edgerton, formerly of the East India Company Army, brought a flavour of London to the peacock chamber. Annie had seen several men she regarded as gentlemen of fashion, but none could compare with the splendour of Mr Willerton-Forbes. His coat was cut with wide lapels and many buttons, his neckcloth was dazzlingly white, his shirt points were high enough to impede his movements, and his satin knee breeches and stockings clung tightly to his legs. A pair of gold f
obs at his waist, a diamond tie pin and an ornate quizzing glass completed the ensemble. By comparison, Captain Edgerton’s peacock-blue coat and lemon waistcoat looked garish, although undoubtedly fashionable.

  Adam appeared just after they had sat down to dinner, but as Sheffield had been informed of his possible arrival, a place was set for him without fuss and within a very few minutes his friendly manners had induced an ease in the company. At first, while Sheffield and Billy were in the room, the conversation was general, as Adam and Captain Edgerton competed to produce the most absurd stories to amuse the ladies, a contest the captain, with his background in the exotic East Indies, won handily. His tales of snakes and tigers and elephants seemed outlandish, but they were undeniably exciting and may even have been true. Judith was quite riveted, and Annie could see her mother listening carefully, so that the juiciest details might be transmitted in the next letter to Guildford.

  Once the footmen had withdrawn, Mr Willerton-Forbes elucidated the reasons for his tardy appearance.

  “My charge was to determine the next of kin of every deceased person from the Brig Minerva,” he said. “Once identified, that person was to have one thousand pounds bestowed upon them, in whatever form may be chosen. I was further charged to offer whatever assistance might be needed by the bereaved person. Investment advice, perhaps, or assistance with the purchase of a property, or the setting up of a trust fund. All of this was my obligation, and I have exerted every effort to comply with the exact terms laid upon me, to the utmost of my ability. None of this is as simple a matter as it may appear, but in the particular case in question, it did not seem unduly difficult. When I enquired about Mr Herbert Huntly, I was told that his mother lived near Dublin, and therefore to Kilcarlow, her present husband’s estate near Dublin, I repaired.”

  He sighed, and took a sip of claret, then, with an even heavier sigh, a larger amount. Apart from Captain Edgerton, who was delicately peeling and slicing plums, everyone’s attention was focused on Mr Willerton-Forbes.