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A little over an hour later Emily was back in the pleasant house which had been her home for the past few years, and was endeavouring, without much success, to explain to her somewhat eccentric grandsire precisely what had taken place during the eventful journey back from the local town.
Appearing faintly bewildered, he regarded her in silence for a moment over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. ‘Shot?’
‘Yes, Grandfather, shot.’
‘But I thought you just said that you’d run him down.’
‘No, I didn’t say that,’ she corrected, striving to be patient with the old gentleman, who could be something of a trial on occasions. ‘Do try to pay attention, sir. I said I thought I must have run him down, but I hadn’t. He’d been shot.’
He bent a look of mild reproach upon her. ‘But you cannot go about the county shooting people, my dear. I dare swear a great many folk deserve it. But it simply won’t do. Will not do at all! Besides, Sir George won’t be best pleased when he hears about it.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Emily exclaimed, just as the door opened and her grandfather’s housekeeper showed none other than the local magistrate himself into the parlour.
Sir George Maynard, a large, grey-haired gentleman with a big barrel chest, which his waistcoats strained to cover, and deceptively merry blue eyes, which little escaped, was a much respected figure in the community. He was an old acquaintance of John Stapleton’s, and had a fondness for his friend’s granddaughter, which he betrayed now by casting her a sympathetic smile, whilst giving her slender hands a brief, reassuring squeeze.
‘A very distressing experience for you, my dear. Wouldn’t have had it happen for the world.’
‘Glad to hear you’ve taken it in such good part, George!’ Mr Stapleton announced, instantly gaining his friend’s attention. ‘Least said soonest mended, eh? I’ve already given her a scold, so it’s best we forget about the whole business.’ He glanced about in a vague manner. ‘Now, what brought me in here in the first place, Emily?’
‘Your book, Grandfather. It’s here on the table.’ She picked it up and handed it to him. ‘Why don’t you return to your library, and leave me to talk to Sir George. I’m certain he’ll be happy to join you for a glass of port later.’
Never needing much encouragement to repair to the room where he spent much of his time, Mr Stapleton was happy to leave, and Emily was even happier to close the door behind him, before turning to her visitor whose round face was wreathed in an understanding smile.
‘A bit vague this morning, eh?’
Emily raised one fine brow in a sceptical arch. ‘He’s only vague, as I suspect you must realise, Sir George, when he doesn’t choose to be troubled by something.’
She invited her visitor to take a seat and then, without asking, as he had never been known to refuse, automatically poured him a glass of wine. ‘You’ve spoken to Jonas Finn, I do not doubt, and have seen the body?’
‘Yes, m’dear,’ he acknowledged, after sampling the contents of his glass and watching her gracefully lowering her slender frame, which was a delight for a man of even his advanced years to behold, into the chair opposite. ‘I don’t suppose for a moment there’s much more you can add, so I’ve no intention of plaguing you with a barrage of questions. I’ve arranged for the body to be removed to the undertaker’s in Kempton.’ The Baronet regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘You didn’t recognise the fellow, I suppose?’
‘No, sir. Never set eyes on him before today.’
‘Er…Finn did just happen to mention the man said something to you before he died.’
Emily nodded. ‘But nothing that made any sense. He spoke so faintly I could hardly catch what he was saying.’
‘Pity. It might have given us a clue as to his identity.’ The local Justice of the Peace paused to sample a drop more of the excellent claret whilst all the time studying his companion’s delicate features above the rim of his glass. ‘What—er—did he say precisely, m’dear?’
All at once Emily suspected that much more lay behind the stranger’s death, that he had not merely been set upon, badly beaten and shot, and that Sir George was definitely keeping something to himself. She was very tempted to do likewise, but then thought better of it. ‘I gained the distinct impression he was keen on ornithology. His last words, if I remember correctly, were about birds—kestrels, I think. But, as he had just stumbled out of Kempton Wood, perhaps seeing birds was the last thing he remembered.’ She shrugged. ‘Who can say?’
Just for a second or two there was an added sparkle in the Baronet’s merry blue eyes. ‘Well, if you should recall precisely what it was he did say, perhaps you’ll let me know.’
‘I dare swear it would all come back to me if I took time to think about it,’ she didn’t hesitate to assure him. ‘Though I must be honest and admit that it’s an incident I would far rather forget.’
‘Very understandable, m’dear.’ Tossing the remaining contents of his glass down his throat, he rose to his feet. ‘Well, I’ll be on my way. I’ve an urgent appointment to keep and must set out for London this afternoon. Perhaps you’d be good enough to inform your grandfather that I’m forced to cancel our Friday evening’s chess session. But you can tell him I remember the exact state of play, and that we’ll resume the game after my return.’
Sebastian Hawkridge, seated behind the desk in his library, was gazing through his morning’s correspondence. His intelligent forehead was furrowed by lines of deep concentration as he scanned the missive in his hand. His mien clearly betrayed the keen perception of an extremely astute gentleman, but it was a countenance that few in the polite world had ever been privileged to see.
To have played the part of a fashionable fribble would have been a role too hard to maintain. Yet he had certainly done his utmost in recent years to give the impression that he cared for nothing so much as the pursuit of pleasure. On occasions even this portrayal had been difficult to preserve, but it had been vital to keep up the pretence in order to enable him to undertake a very personal crusade, without arousing the least suspicion among his fellow peers.
Always alert, he clearly heard the sound of the doorknocker filtering through from the hall. He had issued strict instructions that he did not wish to be disturbed, and so knew the moment his butler entered the room that the caller’s business must indeed be urgent for his trusted servant to disobey an order.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but a Sir George Maynard is here to see you on a matter, he assures me, of the utmost importance.’
It took Sebastian a moment only to recall the gentleman to mind and appreciate the precise nature of the business which must have brought him to the house. ‘Yes, show him in, Clegg,’ he instructed, and then rose from his desk in readiness to receive his unexpected visitor.
Once he had furnished him with a glass of wine and had him comfortably established in a chair by the hearth, his lordship swiftly dispensed with pleasantries. ‘Your visit, sir, is unexpected. But I doubt you have journeyed to the capital merely to make a social call. Bad news, I assume.’
‘Afraid so, Hawkridge. Sir Giles Osborne informed me that in the event that I was unable to get hold of him, I could safely pass on any information I attained to you. Sir Giles, so I’ve been informed, is out of town, but he ought to know as soon as possible that the man he sent into Dorset has been murdered.’ Sir George wasn’t slow to detect the flicker of sadness in the younger man’s penetrating grey eyes. ‘Was he by any chance a friend of yours?’
‘We were acquaintances only. I know that Sir Giles thought highly of him. Anderson was a good man.’
Leaning back in his chair, Sebastian stretched out his muscular legs, displayed to advantage in a pair of tight-fitting breeches and shining Hessian boots. ‘I think it’s safe to assume that he was killed because he had discovered something. Osborne, as you probably know, suspected that stretch of coastline was being used by smugglers, and those he’s keen to apprehend. He’ll be back in London early next week, but I doubt he’ll be in a position to replace Anderson speedily. His people are stretched pretty thinly on the ground, so I understand. Nevertheless, I’ll have a word with him when he does return.’
Sir George regarded the younger man in silence for a moment. ‘I’m aware that your interests are somewhat different from Osborne’s, but that you do exchange information from time to time. I haven’t read of any robberies in the newspapers recently, so I can only assume that whatever Anderson had discovered would have been of more interest to our mutual friend.’
‘More than likely,’ Sebastian agreed. ‘Who discovered the body, by the way?’
‘The granddaughter of a near neighbour of mine.’
The shapely hand raising the glass to Lord Hawkridge’s lips checked for a moment, and his gaze was suddenly disconcertingly direct. ‘You wouldn’t, by any chance, be referring to Emily Stapleton?’
‘Why, yes!’ The Baronet was clearly astonished. ‘Are you acquainted with her?’
His lordship’s ruggedly masculine features were all at once softened by a surprisingly tender smile. ‘Oh, yes. I know little Emily Stapleton, right enough. I’ve been acquainted with the family all my life. She and her mother were my nearest neighbours when I resided in Hampshire. In fact, Emily’s mother was my godmother.’
Once again Sir George didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. ‘Great heavens! I never knew that. I remember her mother and father very well. Laura was a lovely woman. It was so very sad that her marriage to Philip Stapleton was so tragically short. He died at the Battle of the Nile.’ He shrugged. ‘Still, I suppose you knew that. Emily doesn’t remember her father too well, of course. But her mother’s death hit her pretty hard, poor child.’
‘I know that too, sir. I was with her at the time.’ Sebastian released his breath in a long sigh. ‘She’s still happy enough living with her grandfather, I understand?’
‘Oh, yes, my boy.’ Sir George’s portly frame shook as he gave vent to a chuckle. ‘Damnable intrepid little thing! Jaunts about the countryside tooling her own carriage now, would you believe?’
There was no semblance of a smile on the younger man’s face. ‘I’m well aware of it!’ Disapproval was clearly evident in the clipped tone. ‘I was given little choice in the matter. The little minx forced my hand!’
Sir George’s bushy brows rose sharply. ‘I’m sorry, my boy. I don’t perfectly understand. Why should Miss Stapleton’s behaviour concern you?’
‘Because, Sir George, I am her legal guardian and not John Stapleton, as most people believe. And I would be very much obliged to you if you would keep that information to yourself.’
Although not perfectly understanding the need for secrecy, Sir George didn’t hesitate to give his word, before his thoughts returned to the reason for his visit. ‘Anderson said something to young Emily before he died. I didn’t like to question her too closely. That young lady has a head on her shoulders, and I didn’t wish to arouse her suspicions. Didn’t want her involved in all this cloak-and-dagger stuff.’
‘And she didn’t tell you what he said?’
Sir George shook his head. ‘Said something about Anderson being keen on bird-watching, would you believe? But I can’t imagine that that can be right.’
His expression once again keenly alert, Sebastian rose to his feet and stood before the hearth to stare intently down at the burning coals. ‘I was wrong, sir. Unless I’m gravely mistaken that message might well have been for me. It’s vital I find out exactly what he said.’
‘I’ll go and visit Emily the instant I get back.’
‘No, don’t do that. It would be better if I questioned her. I’d learn a great deal more than you would. As mentioned, I’ve been acquainted with her all her life, and know how to handle her. Damnation!’ he cursed softly. ‘I would have preferred to have waited, but Fate it seems is forcing my hand.’
Understandably, he turned to discover a puzzled expression on the Baronet’s plump features, but chose not to elaborate. Instead he said, ‘Would I be right in thinking that the Deverels are close neighbours of yours, and that there’s to be a party held at their home in the not too distant future?’
‘Why, yes! Have you been invited?’
‘I was, but turned it down. Charles Deverel and I were up at Oxford together. Unless I’m much mistaken he’s still in town.’ Placing his half-finished glass of wine on the mantel shelf, Sebastian went striding over to the door. ‘I don’t wish to appear rude, sir, but I must go out and run Deverel to earth without delay, and somehow get myself re-invited to that damnable country party without, I hope, arousing suspicion.’
Chapter Two
Raising her eyes from the book which she had obtained from the lending library on the very day she had come upon the stranger at Kempton Wood, Emily gazed across at the sofa, where Sarah sat busily hemming the last few inches of her new gown, and frowned as something odd occurred to her.
‘Sarah, did Sir George Maynard ever question you about that unfortunate incident last week?’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Because it seems to me he’s taken the murder of that stranger very lightly. Which is most unlike him. He’s usually so conscientious. He returned from London four days ago, but hasn’t made the least attempt to question me again.’
Sarah shrugged. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t think there’s anything further you can tell him.’
‘Ah, but there is!’ Emily enlightened her, closing her book and tossing it aside. ‘You see I’ve been thinking about the incident a good deal, and I now recall precisely what the stranger said to me before he died.’
‘In that case why don’t you inform Sir George?’ Sarah suggested, exhibiting her usual sound good sense. ‘He’ll be at the party tomorrow night. And so too shall I now that my new gown is finished!’ she added, her mind swiftly turning to far more important matters as far as she was concerned. She held the garment at arm’s length the better to survey the finished result. ‘I cannot thank you enough for all the work you did on this. If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have finished it in time.’
‘If you must thank someone, then thank Budd,’ Emily responded, refusing to take the credit. ‘She did most of the work on it, not I.’
‘In that case I shall make a point of doing so. Your housekeeper’s an absolute treasure!’
‘I’m very well aware of it,’ Emily assured her. ‘If it hadn’t been for dear old Budd I’d have been saddled with a duenna, would you believe?’
Sarah frankly laughed. ‘For someone who enjoyed a deal of freedom throughout her childhood, far more than most girls are privileged to experience, I cannot imagine you would have taken too kindly to having your treasured independence drastically curtailed by a chaperon.’
‘How well you know me, my dear. No, I should not!’ Emily admitted. ‘Fortunately Budd stepped into the breach by suggesting that she keep an eye on me until a suitable duenna was found. Whether grandfather then forgot the idiotic notion, or was happy to leave matters as they were, I’m not certain.
‘Oh, yes, I’m very well aware that Lady Deverel, among several others hereabouts, thinks it highly improper for a young woman of my age not to be suitably chaperoned,’ Emily went on when she detected her friend’s wry grin. ‘But it’s nonsensical, Sarah. I live with my grandfather, a venerable, elderly gentleman of sober habits. All right, I’ll admit that a cook-housekeeper might not be considered by most as an ideal chaperon, but no one could suggest that dear Mrs Budd isn’t respectable.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Sarah was forced to agree.
‘And since my arrival, of course, we’ve added to the household staff by employing Amy, the parlourmaid, and one of the village girls who comes in every day to help with the cleaning, so Budd isn’t precisely overworked, and is able to spend time with me when the need arises. And as I somehow acquired the running of the household, the servants usually come directly to me for instructions, so things go along pretty smoothly, and everyone is happy.’
Once again Sarah was unable to suppress a smile. ‘In other words you ruled the roost not long after taking up residence here, and have not called upon Budd’s services too often, I suspect.’
‘There’s been absolutely no need for me to do so,’ Emily wasn’t slow to point out. ‘But she’s always on hand on those rare occasions when younger gentlemen call at the house and the proprieties need to be observed. And then, of course, the instant I step outside Jonas Finn appears. He’s worse than six duennas!’
She frowned suddenly as a thought occurred to her. ‘It wasn’t by any chance Lady Deverel who suggested to Grandfather that I ought to have my own personal groom, was it?’
‘I cannot recall her ever mentioning it, no. What makes you ask?’
Puzzled, Emily shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but I’ve always thought it most odd that Grandfather should have thought of employing a personal groom for me. It isn’t the sort of thing that would cross his mind. Come to that, I’m rather surprised he ever considered employing a duenna. I wonder which interfering busybody was responsible for putting such an idiotic notion into his head in the first place?’
As no immediate candidate sprang to mind, Emily didn’t dwell on the conundrum over long, and turned her head to gaze briefly through the French windows at the very pleasing sight of the garden beyond the terrace bathed in bright April sunshine. ‘I do hope the weather remains fair. We can go out riding again tomorrow if it does.’
She turned back in time to catch a faint frown puckering her friend’s brow. ‘What is it, Sarah? You said how much you enjoyed our ride this morning.’
‘Yes, I did,’ she readily confirmed. ‘I haven’t ridden in such a long time. And I should dearly like to join you again, except…except tomorrow I promised Godmama that I would return to the Hall and help with the flower arrangements.’
Emily managed to suppress a snort of derision, but could not resist saying, ‘Oh, Sarah, I despair of you sometimes.’
Grey eyes clearly betrayed puzzlement. ‘But why? There will be plenty of opportunities to go riding while I remain here. I really did enjoy this morning’s exercise, and it was so kind of you to loan me one of your habits.’
‘I’d let you keep the wretched thing if I thought there was the remotest possibility of your making use of it after you return to the Hall.’
Striving to maintain a firm grasp on a temper which sadly could on occasions erupt with quite surprising force, Emily rose to her feet and went to stand before the window. ‘Are you honestly trying to tell me that Lady Deverel and the divine Drusilla, with the help of an army of servants, are incapable of arranging a few vases of flowers?’
‘Of course not. But Godmama considers that I have a flair for such things and particularly requested me to do the flowers for Drusilla’s birthday party.’
‘You are at that confounded family’s beck and call from dawn till dusk!’ Emily exclaimed, not so successful this time in putting a guard on her tongue, and Sarah was clearly surprised by the depth of contempt.
‘But—but I thought you liked the Deverels?’
Emily swung round, determined now to speak her mind. ‘Lady Deverel is undeniably a charming woman, and I do like her, yes. But even you cannot deny she’s dreadfully indolent. I always rubbed along very well with her late husband. But Drusilla’s nothing more than a spoilt beauty, too accustomed to having her own way. And getting it too! And Charles is an utter clodpole for not exerting more authority over his household since coming into the title.’
’emily, how can you say so?’ Sarah retorted, betraying a surprising show of annoyance for someone whose disposition was in general very placid. ‘Charles is a most thoughtful, charming gentleman. He never fails to offer his thanks for the small tasks I perform. And he isn’t a clodpole!’
Not unduly surprised by this display of staunch loyalty on Sarah’s part, Emily turned to stare out of the window once more, thereby concealing a wickedly knowing smile.
She had long since been made aware of the fact that both she and Sarah were considered immensely pretty young ladies by the majority of those living in the locale. Undeniably, when seen together, they made a pleasing contrast: she with her shining, dusky locks; Sarah with her blonde curls. Although neither of them might be considered conventionally beautiful, both had been blessed with regular features and excellent figures, and were handsome enough to win a second glance from the vast majority of masculine eyes. Consequently it was little wonder that their continued single state had given rise to a deal of gossip and speculation in recent years.
For her part, Emily experienced no desire to find herself a husband, and had made no secret of this fact in an attempt to dissuade any would-be suitors foolishly offering for her hand. Four visits to Brighton in as many years had produced several proposals of marriage, all of which she had kindly but firmly refused. Her disinclination to wed, she supposed, might have been easier to understand if she had revealed a dislike of masculine company, but in fact the opposite was true.
She rubbed along remarkably well with her grandfather who, it had to be said, was not the most scintillating company for much of the time, preferring the peace and quiet of his large and well-stocked library, where he could pursue his many and varied hobbies. She was unfailingly gracious to her grandfather’s male friends who visited the house, and was upon friendly terms with them all. Younger men, however, with the possible exception of Sir Charles Deverel, whom she had always regarded as a perfect gentleman, she tended to keep at a distance.
Emily considered that her friend’s continued single state was a little easier for the local gossips to comprehend. Although Sarah came from an old and well-respected family, her parents had not been wealthy and her dowry by all accounts was woefully small. Any discerning gentleman, however, wouldn’t take account of this, for Sarah’s sweet nature and charming manners, coupled with her undeniable ability to run a large household efficiently, certainly went a long way to make up for any lack of fortune.
It was generally felt that it was a great pity that Lady Deverel, having suffered the loss of her husband the previous year, had been obliged to postpone launching her only daughter into Society. It had been Lady Deverel’s intention to include Sarah in the proposed visit to the capital, and many had voiced the belief that both young ladies would have found themselves engaged before the Season was over. Emily, on the other hand, knew better. Although she felt sure that Drusilla, undeniably a beauty, would have had no difficulty in securing herself a suitable husband, she felt equally certain that any proposals which might have come Sarah’s way would have been politely but firmly refused.
Perhaps, she mused, some might consider that Sarah had set her sights too high, and that it would be far more sensible to be practical and encourage the attentions of the local vicar who had been showing a marked interest in her of late, but Emily thought differently. Why should Sarah agree to marry a man she did not love, when there was every chance she might attain her heart’s desire?
Emily turned her attention away from the view beyond the window to discover the angry spots of colour still lingering in her friend’s delicate cheeks. ‘I knew you would be unable to resist coming to your darling Charles’s defence.’ She smiled as the becoming flush deepened. ‘You might have succeeded in concealing your long-standing attachment from the world at large. But you’ve never fooled me.’
All at once Sarah appeared unable to meet that knowing, blue-eyed gaze. ‘I cannot imagine what you mean,’ she announced, delightfully flustered.
Emily’s glance was openly sceptical. ‘Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been in love with Charles almost from the moment you went to live at Deverel Hall. Don’t attempt to deny it,’ she added, when Sarah looked about to do just that. ‘I have little difficulty in interpreting the signs, simply because I’ve experienced the emotion myself.
‘Surprised, Sarah?’ Emily’s shout of laughter contained precious little mirth. ‘Yes, I can see you are. Clearly I’m far more adept at concealment than you.’
Sarah gazed across at her dearest friend in dawning wonder. ‘You—you’ve been in love, Em? You’ve never said anything before.’
‘It isn’t something I care to think about too often, let alone talk about,’ she admitted. ‘Even after several years I still find it painful.’
