The Hummingbird Dagger

by Cindy Anstey

  “I will send Beth to you this afternoon,” Caroline continued to press. “So that you can assess her yourself.”

  James nodded, turning his face toward the fireplace.

  * * *

  “WELCOME. COME IN.” James stood and waved toward the armchair by his desk. He tried to exude nonchalance, but it was difficult under the circumstances. Chuckling to himself, he recognized Beth’s gown. It was one of Caroline’s, covered with paint splatters, though still stylish and flattering.

  Beth gracefully glided across the room and bobbed her head before sitting.

  At a temporary loss for words, James tried to remember the point of their meeting. “Ah yes, Beth. We must decide on our next steps.” He paused for a moment, watching as Beth licked her lips. “We had expected your people to make an appearance by now,” he continued. “Inquiries at the post inn would have sent them our way. However as no one has arrived, we must start our own search.”

  “Indeed. Thank you, Lord Ellerby, for taking me in under such unusual circumstances.” The silence that ensued was slightly uncomfortable.

  James shifted uneasily. “It was the least we could do,” he said finally, excessively aware of her gaze. “Have you had any recollections?”

  James held his breath, waiting for her to answer. Hoping that she could offer something—a new memory, a sense of the past, a place in her childhood.

  Beth dropped her eyes and huffed a sigh. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  James shrugged halfheartedly. “Worry not,” he said. “We will not throw you to the wolves, but we will move you into the family wing for now.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but I would rather stay in the servants’ hall. I’m not comfortable with the idea of giving myself airs only to discover that I’m a dustman’s daughter.”

  James barked a laugh until he realized that Beth was serious. He swallowed his mirth with an audible gulp. “That is highly unlikely, but I bow to your wishes. There is no need to move out of the servants’ hall if you are not so inclined.”

  “Excellent. Mrs. Fogel will find me something to do. I shall not be idle,” she said as if to assure James of her usefulness. “Thank you, Lord Ellerby.” Beth lifted her head and surprised James once more.

  Beth’s expression was not embarrassed or troubled. Had he given it a name, James would have said determined. It was a remarkable response, in a brave and impressive sort of way.

  “I think I will ride over to Ellingham,” he said casually. “One of your fellow passengers said you got on at the Ivy. We may not know much, but we do know where your journey began.”

  The statement rang hollow, for in truth, they knew nothing.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Puppies and Impatience

  James Ellerby sat in the corner of the Ivy, sipping a pint. Despite appearances, he was not there to relax. He was tense and frustrated and he wanted answers.

  James had arrived on time, but the coach was late. And so he waited.

  Finally, the sounds of jangling reins, pounding horse hooves, and grating wheels turned heads toward the door. Travelers stood and began to collect themselves.

  Abruptly, the silhouetted form of a man stood in the doorway. “Goin’ ta Exeter, leavin’ in ten!” he shouted. He then moved out of the way to allow his new passengers through while he accepted a pint. He downed it in a gulp and was reaching for another when the innkeeper pointed him to James.

  The man was tall and angular with brown hair and deep side-whiskers. “Can I ’elp ya, sir?” His attempt at a smile displayed more space than teeth.

  James slumped. This was not the right man. “Actually, I was waiting to speak to the driver of the London–Exeter coach of a fortnight ago.” He tried to keep the vexation out of his voice, with limited success.

  “That be me.”

  “No, no. I spoke with him when he had an accident by the Torrin Bridge. I need to ask him about one of his passengers.”

  “Oh no, sir, I didna have no h’accident by the Torrin. I lost me wheel near Ellingham. It took close on four hours to get it fixed.”

  James’ frown deepened. “What time did you go through Welford Mills?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know, sir. But it were gettin’ on the dusky side. It were full dark when I hit Exeter.”

  Scrubbing at his face, James huffed in frustration. “Do you know a driver with black-and-gray hair with pockmarks on his face? He has a stocky build.”

  “No, sir. I don’t.”

  James muttered a barely intelligible thank you and marched to the door.

  * * *

  JAMES CHUNTERED MOST of the journey back to Hardwick. Frustration ate at his thoughts. Certainties, in fact, were not certain at all. The driver of Beth’s coach had lied. The coach was not the post from London; the trunk wasn’t Beth’s trunk. Even her name was … well, not her name.

  James felt his gray stallion turn; they had reached the drive of Hardwick Manor. The arching bridge over the Torrin was just beyond. Guiding Tetley back to road, James drew nearer to the accident site. The rain had softened—almost obliterated—the sharp cuts from the carriage wheels.

  Jumping from his saddle, James draped the reins over the parapet of the bridge. He slid on the soft earth to the bottom of the bank and squatted by the water’s edge. He stared into the gently lapping water, looking for answers, knowing he would find none.

  An object just below the surface caught his eye. He reached into the water, pulling up a shapeless mass.

  A coiled dirty mess. Rope. Just rope, cut and now useless.

  He dropped it back into the water but, as he did so, a glint caught his eye. Soaking his cuff in the effort, James pulled up a blackened silver button. It had likely been encased in the mud for eons, uncovered when they had churned up the bank. He slipped the tarnished object into his waistcoat pocket for a closer look some other time.

  * * *

  AS THE GROOM led Tetley into the Hardwick stables, James’ curly-coated retriever, Jack, greeted him with great enthusiasm—jumping and wagging with fervor … a little too much fervor as James stumbled back into someone who had been kneeling by the last stall. They nearly landed in a heap.

  “Lord Ellerby?” Beth braced herself on the open gate.

  Embarrassed, James offered his arm to help her rise. “My apologies, Beth. I did not see you.”

  She dropped a cursory bob. “I have a tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Then she caught his eye and continued in a rush. “I heard that you were going to Ellingham today. Did you visit the Ivy?”

  Beth’s eager expression was painful. “No news I’m afraid, Beth.” He preferred to discuss the ramifications of the wrong coachman with Caroline first.

  A pucker briefly appeared between Beth’s pretty hazel eyes and then she turned the corners of her mouth up in mechanical-like increments. James breathed heavily through his nose; it sounded dangerously close to a sigh.

  Fortunately, the exuberance of six fat pups behind Beth could be used as a distraction. James smiled. “So this is what drew you here.”

  He reached down into the straw-covered stall and lifted one of the squirmy bodies to his chest. Jack hopped over the board that sequestered them from the myriad of hooves, and was welcomed in style by the curly pups and Amber, their mother.

  “Indeed. They are little bundles of curiosity wanting to explore the world. Playing at full tilt one moment and fast asleep the next.” She pointed to one pup, bulkier than the rest, dozing in the corner, completely oblivious to the tugging and pouncing of its brothers and sisters. Beth knelt again and placed a puppy on her lap. “This one is my favorite.”

  The pup was identical to the others. James laughed and squatted beside her. “How can you tell? They all look alike.”

  Beth grinned. “Well, it’s actually easy to tell. She always greets me first. She is almost the tallest, and she is almost the skinniest.”

  James snickered. “In other words, you can’t tell at all. You simply gues
sed.”

  “Of course I can tell.” In a conspiratorial manner, she looked right and then left. She dropped her voice to a whisper and reiterated her conviction as if imparting a secret. “Of course I can tell.” She lifted up the right forepaw of the wiggling pup. One white claw stood out from all the rest.

  James smiled. He met, and then unintentionally locked on to Beth’s eyes. A few moments or seconds passed. It was only when the pup tried to lick Beth’s chin that they came out of their reverie together. Surprised and uncomfortable, James realized that his behavior was not appropriate.

  “I am glad you are enjoying the retrievers, Beth.” He dropped his squirming bundle back into the straw, rose, and dusted off the paw prints. “Good day.”

  James called to Jack and left Beth still kneeling in the straw.

  * * *

  TWITCHING WITH IMPATIENCE, Caroline sat with the appearance of calm on the edge of an overstuffed chair, ready to pounce. She knew that James would wend his way to the quiet warmth of the library as soon as he had changed. And this was where she intended to confront him.

  Caroline was resolved that neither was going to dine until James agreed that Beth should move into the family wing. Beth’s manner, speech, talents, and countenance all indicated that she was misplaced in the servants’ hall. And now, after this afternoon in the garden, there was no doubt. James had to listen.

  So intent on formulating her arguments, Caroline missed the sound of the opening door.

  “Relaxing with a good book, are you?” James eyed the closed novel on her lap. He reclined into the facing chair.

  “Oh, James. I wish you wouldn’t creep about so. You scared the life out of me.”

  “Did I? Next time I’ll have Robert announce me.”

  “Very funny.” Swallowing and then taking a bracing breath, Caroline delved straight into the cause of her disquiet. “James, I must speak to you about Beth.”

  “By all means, Caroline.”

  “This afternoon I was painting in the garden. The crocuses are up as well as the tulips, by the by. And as much as I adore florals—as well you know—today, I was inspired to do a landscape.”

  James blinked and then tilted his head, as if to see her better from a different angle. “Most excellent … And this regards Beth how?”

  “Well, I felt like doing something different. I wanted to do a vista. It started out just fine…”

  “Ah, we are still talking about painting.” James raised his eyebrow questioningly, wordlessly reiterating his query about Beth’s involvement.

  “But I decided to put leaves on the trees,” Caroline continued, ignoring his rejoinder. “I could not make it look right. Beth was at one of the upper windows and heard my frustrated mutterings.” She shifted back in her chair and lifted her chin as if preparing for an onslaught. “She came down to help me. James, in less than a quarter of an hour she showed me three ways to render the impression of full trees without painting each leaf, which is what I had been trying to do. The first method was to take the fan brush and tip it in not one but three colors—”

  “I am sure, Caroline, the point of your story is not to teach me how to paint leaves.”

  “No, indeed not, James. I simply wanted to assure you of my confidence…” She swallowed awkwardly, exuding anything but confidence. “I want to assure you that Beth is a gentleman’s daughter. I am all but certain. That we do not know who this gentleman is should not prevent us from providing the proper shelter for her until such time as her relatives come looking for her. I would like to ask her to be my companion.”

  “She would be a welcome addition to our small clan.”

  Caroline laughed and relaxed into her chair. “You had already decided she belongs with the family, hadn’t you?”

  “Yes. Staying in the servants’ wing was Beth’s suggestion, not mine,” James admitted. “But I could tell that you had gone to a lot of thought. Worked yourself up and all that. I wasn’t about to steal your thunder.”

  “You brute.” Caroline threw her book at him without much force.

  He caught it handily and then dropped the abused novel on the table between them. He sighed—rather deeply, world weary-ish. “There is more to this accident than meets the eye, Caroline.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Beth was not on the London stagecoach.”

  Caroline sat forward again, listening to James describe his visit to Ellingham.

  “There was no one waiting in Exeter,” he said, “because that was not her destination.”

  “But where, then?”

  “That is the trouble, Caroline. I have fewer answers now than before.”

  “But, James, you said one of the men at the accident mentioned the Ivy.”

  “Yes, one of the passengers on the coach. Now I know that he lied. If the carriage was not the post or stagecoach, it had to be a coach for hire. But I am beginning to think I should not assume anything. It is a baffling business, Caroline, make no mistake.”

  “Will we tell Beth?”

  “Perhaps not. It is unsettling, to say the least.”

  “We could ask Dr. Brant what he thinks. I will send a note. Invite him to sup with us tomorrow.” Caroline stood, nodded absentmindedly to James, and quick-stepped into the hall. She wanted to speak to Beth before dinner.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Fellow Confederate

  Caroline strode down the small hall and into the servants’ wing with a skipping sort of gait. To be proper, she should have rung for one of the maids to find Beth, but Caroline was too excited to wait. Fortunately, Beth was descending just as Caroline approached the back stairs.

  “Beth, might I have a word with you?” Caroline asked.

  The girl stared wide-eyed, as if expecting bad news.

  Silly widgeon.

  Caroline swept her arm toward the front of the house and gestured for Beth to follow. Marching into the bright morning room, Caroline closed the door with more force than she intended, eager anticipation making her ham-fisted. She bounced over to the settee, dropped down on the cream brocade, and turned with a gleeful smile. Patting the seat beside her, she encouraged Beth to join her.

  Wary and watchful, Beth sat stiffly, looking anything but comfortable.

  Caroline leaned forward, grinning. “You do not belong in the servants’ hall, Beth. Your manners, sensibility, and obvious education speak for themselves. If Mother had been here, I’m sure she would have insisted that you join the family.” She said nothing about Beth’s resolve to be placed with the servants and ignored Beth’s frown and confused expression. “Since Mother left a month or so ago,” Caroline said, steering their conversation to a safer topic, “Hardwick has had plenty of boyish pomposity … more than enough.” She shook her head as she thought of Walter.

  Her mother’s flair for melodrama had been fully realized in her younger son. Losing the staid, steady guidance of Father had taken its toll, and her mama’s extended visit with Aunt Beatrice had not helped anyone but Mama. Caroline frowned, pushing her thoughts back to the problem at hand. “Gentlewomen are few and far between in this household at present. It would be quite agreeable to talk of music and books, to paint, to laugh, and be engaged in easy conversation again. Well, what I am trying to say … Might I persuade you to become my companion?”

  Beth opened her mouth but only produced an unintelligible squeak.

  “I know the loss of your memory is a great trial to you. But when—and I say when because I fervently believe that the day will come—when your memories return, I will simply call you by another name. Still, I would like to think I will always call you my friend.”

  Beth swallowed visibly, her expression no longer wary but dejected. “I am very grateful, Miss Ellerby—”

  “Call me Caroline.”

  “I’m very grateful, Miss Ellerby, but you do me too much honor. There are many circumstances in which … I might have the appearance of being gently raised.”

  “Indeed.”

>   “But that does not make it so. I might have thwarted my parents and run away … or I am a disgraced governess.”

  Caroline snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Perhaps we won’t enumerate all the possibilities of your situation—it would require more time. It shall have to suffice that I believe we would get along rather well no matter what your circumstances. So, what say you?”

  Breathing deeply, in almost a sigh, Beth stared at Caroline.

  “Does Lord Ellerby know of this change?”

  “Yes, Beth. Not only does he know, but he supports it.”

  The clock on the mantel chimed loudly in the ensuing silence, and there was a soft knock on the door.

  “One minute, please,” Caroline called without taking her eyes off Beth. “What do you think?”

  “I feel like a charlatan. Unworthy of your company.” And then she smiled. “But you seem certain—”

  “I am. And determined.”

  Beth chuckled. It was the first time that Caroline had heard her laugh. Caroline grinned. “Yes?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I will accept your generous offer. I will be your companion.”

  Caroline jumped to her feet, pulling Beth up with her. “Wonderful. We are going to have such good times together.” She gave her new companion a quick hug, ignoring the girl’s stiffness. “Enter,” she called to the door.

  It was Mrs. Fogel. “Dinner is ready, Miss Ellerby. And Miss Beth’s things have been removed to the green room.”

  Caroline glanced guiltily at Beth. “I was fairly certain that I could persuade you.”

  Beth laughed again. “Apparently.”

  Turning to Mrs. Fogel, Caroline ignored the housekeeper’s lack of expression; there had been approval in her tone.

  “Did Daisy help determine which were Beth’s possessions?” Caroline asked.