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Letter from a Dead Man Page 21
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She pinned it back onto her dress. ‘I think so, and I do love pretty things. Whenever Cuthbert came back from London he always brought me some little trinket.’
I started to laugh. ‘My dear, dear godmother, you do not possess anything as trifling as a mere trinket. Pearl necklaces, gold bracelets, rings and brooches galore, even a diamond tiara, but-----’ ‘I have been lucky haven’t I,’ she admitted artlessly. ‘Cuthbert gave me the tiara after Giles was born. I’d always wanted one, and he was so thankful I’d come through the birth safely he said I could have anything I desired.’
‘That was a little rash of him, wasn’t it. You might have asked for something out of his reach.’
‘Oh no. I’ve always been quite sensible you know, Drusilla.’ I bit my lip, struggling with myself briefly; ‘sensible’ was not a word I had ever associated with my adored godmother. When I gave way to a peal of mirth, she giggled. ‘Oh well, perhaps not always, but I knew how to go about getting what I really wanted.’
I choked. ‘Now that, I do believe.’
A word of encouragement soon had her relating how she came by most of her jewellery, and I was still listening, wrapped in admiration, when Vincent came to join us. I welcomed him with a smile. ‘Have you come out to enjoy the sunshine?’
‘One must I think Lady Drusilla, we see so little of it here,’ he said, executing an exquisite bow.
Marguerite patted the place beside her, and Vincent obediently sat down. ‘I have some good news,’ she told him. ‘Drusilla and Lucie are to dine with us on Friday.’ He responded with all his usual charm, pulled an elegant gold box from his pocket, flipped it open, and took a pinch of snuff, listening attentively as my godmother promised, ‘I shall order a lemon tart especially for you, Drusilla. Then I can be sure of your company, even if it rains.’
‘With a lemon tart on offer, you can be sure of my company even if it snows.’ I had been talking for well over an hour, and when I stood up to take my leave, Vincent insisted on escorting me to the stables.
He chatted in his engaging way about how much things had changed at Ledstone since his childhood, and as we strolled back past the house, I noticed Piers sitting in the library, his back to the window, industriously writing. He was wearing one of the maroon coats he favoured, which showed off his blond hair to advantage, and I found myself thinking it a great pity Piers did not possess his father’s charm and impeccable manners. Or perhaps, I reasoned charitably, he was one of those people who found it easier to express his feelings in a letter. I didn’t know if that was true, but today I was ready to think the best of anyone, now I knew Giles would soon be home.
I decided to watch Leatherbarrow sail out of Yarmouth, aware I would feel even happier once I had seen him go on his way. Riding through Dittistone we passed the cottage where Mudd senior lived, and my groom said his father was asking around about the dead French smuggler.
‘He knows some of the Frenchies, my lady.’
‘That is good of him, John,’ I said, for as Jackson had told me, a mere war did not appear to interfere with the serious business of smuggling. ‘Does your father speak French?’
‘He’s picked up a smattering over the years, my lady. I remember him bringing back a French newspaper once, thinking I could read it to him. Of course, being in French, I couldn’t make head nor tail of it.’ And he chuckled merrily. ‘He never did understand why I could read English, but not French.’
He shook his head, still grinning, and I recalled how, when I was six, father had caught me trying to teach Mudd the words in one of my books. I had been told to stop pestering the poor fellow and leave him in peace. But Mudd said I wasn’t pestering him, and he’d always wanted to read. Father, a great believer in helping people to improve themselves, offered to teach him. Mudd, a quick learner, was soon reading books and newspapers, but turned down father’s suggestion that he could find a more rewarding career, insisting there was nothing more rewarding than working with horses. Ever since that time, all our newspapers were passed on to Mudd. Despite Aunt Thirza’s warning that it didn’t do for servants to get above themselves.
Soon we were climbing the rise, from the top of which were some excellent views. Hills rolled majestically to the east, while ahead lay the Solent, where on a day like this, there would be vessels of all sizes to be seen, from fishing boats to men o’ war fresh out of Portsmouth Harbour, to ships bound for America and other distant parts of the world. I didn’t expect to see Giles’s yacht yet, realising Leatherbarrow was probably still making his way out of the river Yar.
Just before the top of the rise, passing a track that led to Dell Farm, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. Stopping abruptly, I turned Orlando into the narrow tree-lined track. Some twenty yards ahead of me, on a patch of grass, lay an inert figure. Kneeling beside him, holding a hefty piece of stone aloft over the man’s head, was Mr Reevers. I recognised the unconscious man instantly. It was Leatherbarrow.
CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE
For a moment or two I felt sick. Then, resolutely urging Orlando forward, I ordered Mr Reevers to drop the stone at once. But even as I spoke, Mudd brushed past me, pushing my horse under the trees, where my hat became caught up in the overhanging branches. Muttering angrily about interfering servants, I disentangled myself, to find Mudd had placed himself between Mr Reevers and myself.
‘Best do as her ladyship says sir,’ he advised impassively.
Although badly shaken by the scene in front of me, I insisted, ‘I will deal with this, John.’
Mr Reevers put the stone down, and raising his head, met my gaze squarely. ‘Yes, I can see how it must look,’ he murmured, in unruffled understanding. ‘But the fact is I was on my way to Norton House when I heard a horse whinnying in distress. I turned off the road and found Leatherbarrow exactly as he is now. This stone was beside him, and I was checking it for blood when you arrived.’
‘I see,’ I whispered, more relieved than I cared to admit.
Leatherbarrow hadn’t moved, and his face was deathly white. ‘Is he alive?’ I asked apprehensively.
‘He’s still breathing, but badly hurt, I believe. He needs a---’
‘Yes,’ I broke in, and said to Mudd. ‘Find Dr. Redding and---.’
Mudd looked at me in horror. ‘I can’t leave you here, my lady.’
Mr Reevers spoke with quiet authority, ‘Your concern does you credit Mudd, but whoever attacked Leatherbarrow has gone now. Lady Drusilla will be quite safe with me.’ Mudd looked at me for approval and I gave it, urging him to hurry, and to tell the doctor we were taking the groom to Dell Farm.
He rode down the track, turned towards Dittistone where the doctor lived, and with one quick anxious glance back at me, galloped off. Mr Reevers, still kneeling beside the groom, removed a pistol from the pocket of his riding coat, put it on the ground, took off the coat and tucked it round the unconscious man. ‘We must get him into the warm quickly. Where is this farmhouse?’ I pointed towards a small copse. ‘About a hundred yards down the track on the other side of those trees.’
He nodded, picked up the firearm, and I watched in utter disbelief as he pointed it in my direction, and walked towards me. ‘You know, a sensible woman would have ridden straight past,’ he said softly. ‘Or sent her groom to investigate.’
As he stood beside Orlando, his white shirt ruffled by the breeze, I gaped at him, too shocked to speak. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Every instinct I possessed had told me to trust this man. He watched me intently with cold eyes, waiting for me to answer, but I couldn’t. My mouth was too dry.
‘Don’t you have anything to say?’
Running my tongue round my lips, I whispered, ‘Mudd knows-------’
‘Yes, but you would still be dead. And a story about Leatherbarrow’s attacker returning is easily concocted. Sending Mudd away was foolish.’
‘He’ll be back soon.’
‘But not in time to save you. You should never leave yourself unprotected,’ he mu
rmured, levelling the pistol at me.
Desperately glancing towards the road, I tried gathering the reins, only for Mr Reevers to shake his head at me. ‘I shouldn’t. You’d never reach the road. Believe me, there is no way you can escape.’
Orlando, sensing my increasing distress, shook his head and whinnied. Mr Reevers, instinctively reassuring him, took his eyes off me for a split second, and I lashed out with my riding crop, sending the pistol flying through the air and out of his reach. Quickly urging Orlando sideways, I knocked Mr Reevers to the ground, seized the pistol I had taken to carrying with me lately, and pointed it at him with a surprisingly steady hand.
Mr Reevers got to his feet and brushed himself down. ‘Very neatly done, ma’am. I must congratulate you,’ he said, employing his most disarming smile, and he took a step towards me. ‘Stay where you are.’
He eyed me somewhat ruefully. ‘I didn’t realise I was that convincing,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know what you’re thinking, but the truth is quite different. Forgive me for being blunt, but rushing straight into this kind of situation, as you did, is highly dangerous. I wanted to show you where that could lead, because next time you might not be so fortunate.’
‘I - I don’t believe you.’
‘I can see that. It is true, nevertheless. Murderers do not stop to chat with their victims. If I had attacked Leatherbarrow, you would already be dead. I would only have waited until Mudd was out of earshot. I beg of you to take more care in future, Lady Drusilla.’ He glanced down at the groom. ‘We must see to Leatherbarrow. I’ll stay------’
‘No, you go. I’ll stay here.’
His lips curled into a faint smile. ‘Very well.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I told Mudd the assailant had gone, but he could be hiding in those trees. Leatherbarrow has a tidy sum of money on him, and I may have disturbed the man before he could take it. Please, be careful.’
Collecting his horse, quietly grazing under a tree, he rode off down the path to the farmhouse. Dismounting, I picked up the firearm from the ground, knelt beside Leatherbarrow and waited. My hands were shaking, for I simply didn’t know what to believe, and if Mr Reevers had lied, as I very much feared, then he wouldn’t come back.
It was, therefore, a considerable relief to see him returning with three of the farmer’s strapping grown-up sons. Between them they carried Leatherbarrow to the farmhouse, where they put him between clean sheets in one of the bedchambers. Within minutes Dr. Redding arrived, Mudd having found him at home for once. While the doctor was making his examination, I went outside to speak to Mr Reevers, determined to clear the air between us, but Mudd, who was waiting with our horses, told me he’d gone back to Ledstone. ‘He said he couldn’t do anything more here my lady, and thought to save you the unpleasant task of telling Mrs Saxborough the bad news.’
I was grateful for that, although he might have waited to hear the doctor’s verdict first. Still, my godmother was easily alarmed and it was better that he recounted the incident in his calm, rational manner, before she heard a garbled version from anyone else. It was also one less problem I had to deal with, the most worrying of which was how to bring Giles back from France.
It would be simple enough if I knew where he was, as I could go in Leatherbarrow’s place. But Leatherbarrow had spoken only in vague terms of a lonely spot on the Normandy coast, and locating Giles on the vast stretches of beach along that north coast would be impossible, unless I knew where to go. Going back indoors, I suddenly realised someone else did know. Jacob. The smuggler who’d brought the message.
Ten minutes later, the farmer’s wife, a plump, sensible woman in her middle years, came into the room followed by the doctor, but my heart sank when I saw how grave he looked.
‘Well ma’am, I have done what I can for Leatherbarrow, but the blow he received was a severe one.’ He put his bag on the kitchen table. ‘The attacker used a large stone, you said?’
‘Yes, about twice the size of my hand.’ I asked how long it might be before Leatherbarrow regained consciousness, if he was to recover.
He pursed his lips in thought. ‘Impossible to say with any certainty, ma’am. Possibly not for a day or two, but he must on no account be moved again.’ I nodded, having expected that. ‘He’ll be in excellent hands here.’
Mrs Ward, the farmer’s wife, bobbed a curtsey. ‘There’s my two daughters and myself, your ladyship. We’ll do all we can, you can be sure of that. I’ve known Will Leatherbarrow all my life, and there’s not a finer man on the Island.’
‘No, indeed,’ I agreed.
‘It’ll be those murdering Frenchies who did this,’ she burst out, her eyes filled with hatred. ‘The ones that did for poor Mr Thomas and his boy. If I could get my hands on them, I’d make them wish they’d never left their heathen country.’ I said quietly that I understood how she felt, and thanked her for allowing her daily life to be cut up, promising she would be suitably recompensed.
As Dr Redding and I walked out the house together he owned, ‘In truth, there’s very little I can do, but I’ve left instructions that I’m to be called if there is the slightest change. In any case, I’ll look in again later today. What puzzles me is why he was set upon so violently. Was he robbed?’ I shook my head, repeating what Mr Reevers had said about the groom having money in his pockets.
The doctor frowned. ‘I can’t see any local man being responsible. Leatherbarrow is too well liked, but I must say it has not been a good year for those who live at Ledstone Place.’ Collecting his horse, he said the constable at Dittistone ought to be informed of the assault. I promised to see it was done, and he nodded. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me ma’am, I must be on my way.’
Mudd led Orlando over to me, I climbed into the saddle, arranged the skirts of my riding habit neatly, and rode back up the track, stopping at the place where Leatherbarrow had been attacked. Leaving Mudd to look after the horses, I made a thorough search of the area. Although I already knew I would not find anything. A frustrating lack of evidence surrounded the deaths of the three Saxboroughs, and I was quite certain the attack on Leatherbarrow was connected with those murders.
As for Mr Reevers, I didn’t know what to believe. A quick thinking man like him could turn most circumstances to his advantage. But one piece of his advice I did intend to take. I meant to be much more careful in future. And not only of dangerous situations.
Riding down to Dittistone to speak to the local constable, I told Mudd what the doctor had said about Leatherbarrow. ‘When we reach Westfleet, I want you to go and see Jacob---’
‘Jacob, my lady?’ he repeated, as if he’d misheard.
‘Yes. He lives at Blackgang.’ Jacob’s dark, menacing looks were well suited to that lawless village. ‘Ask Jacob where Mr Giles will be waiting for Leatherbarrow. Then I can go in his place.’
Mudd’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Not on your own, my lady, surely?’
I had sailed with Giles occasionally, but had never liked being cooped up in a small space and I knew nothing about navigation. ‘I’d prefer you to accompany me, but it’s not an order. You may remain here if you wish.’
‘As if I would, my lady,’ he retorted indignantly.
Smiling, I thanked him, although I had known what his answer would be. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I mean to take Mr Giles’s yacht, but we’ll need a seaman with us. Someone who knows the Normandy coast, and who can be trusted not to talk about the trip.’
‘My father knows the French coast like the back of his hand. He’d come like a shot.’
‘Ask him then John, if you please.’
In Dittistone he stopped at his father’s cottage while I spoke to the constable, who set off at once to make his own inquiries. Frankly, I did not expect him to make any progress.
Mudd was waiting outside when I left, and told me his father was very willing to come with us. As we rode past the church and village green, with its cluster of cottages, I asked Mudd why he’d pushed me under a tree when we first saw Leatherbarrow.
&nb
sp; ‘I beg your pardon, my lady,’ he began awkwardly. ‘Only it looked as if Mr Reevers was attacking Leatherbarrow, and I promised his lordship I’d - er - try to see you didn’t come to any harm, when he was no longer here.’
A lump came into my throat, for it was so exactly what my father would do, that I could almost hear him saying it. I swallowed hard. ‘When was this?’
‘About a year ago, my lady. When he was coming up to fifty. He said his own father had died at that age, and I think it was on his mind. In any case he said, he wouldn’t be here for ever, and er - well, that’s about all, I think---’ and his voice trailed away into an embarrassed silence.
‘I see,’ I murmured dryly, knowing exactly what he’d left unsaid.
Father had not liked me to ride alone, his view being that, if I had an accident, it might be two or three hours before anyone was aware of it. I thought he was worrying unnecessarily, but to please him I had taken Mudd with me after that.
After father’s death, however, I had reverted to my old ways, riding alone sometimes on short journeys and on my early morning rides. Until the incident with the cliff fall; since when I had not gone out alone, apart from the occasional mile long trip in daylight to see Julia. But, I was unaware of my father concerns over his health. He hadn’t mentioned any problems, and was rarely ill. In fact, on the morning of the day he’d died, he’d raced me to the top of a hill. He had been slow to regain his breath, but I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.
Mudd interrupted my thoughts. ‘This trip to France, my lady,’ he said worriedly, as we reached the Downs. ‘What his lordship would have said about that, I dare not think.’
I looked at him. ‘Knowing what I do John, what would he have said, do you think, if I then did nothing?’
He had no answer to that, and parting company at Manor Lane I went home, while he rode on to Blackgang. When I walked into the house a few minutes later, the look of relief on Jeffel’s face made me smile.