A Death by Arson (9 page)

I began to see why doting parents might think a peer of the realm, rich in his own right, who was also an MP and who shared Lucinda's father's business sensibilities, might appeal. ‘This is dreadful,' I said to Mary, my voice low.

‘If anything about your membership of the Women's Movement was real,' answered Mary equally quietly, ‘you will know that Lucinda has no money or rights. Her father owns her and may give her to whatever man he wishes. When she is married, she will then be owned by her husband and bound to his will. It is against this we must fight as for girls like Lucy, it is reality. She does not inherit the mills or her father's money. It is all made over to her first son and, for now, there is no way of circumventing this in law. If she does not marry before her parents die, she is destitute. And for all their doting on her, they have chosen Sir Richard. She must either accept or starve. To be fair, I believe my uncle and aunt think they are doing their best for her. It is awful, but not an uncommon situation.'

‘What are you two whispering about?' asked Lucinda crossly.

‘Her options are limited,' said Mary finally.

I sighed. I could not believe what I was about to say. ‘Lucinda – Lucy, if I may. I assure you Sir Richard is all too human. I am sure he will be able to offer you a materially comfortable life.'

‘Well, there is the castle,' admitted Lucinda.

As we closed the door behind us, Lucinda now tucked back in bed and asleep, I said to Mary, ‘I am not happy about this. Richard Stapleford is not a good man.'

‘Has he unnatural appetites?' asked Mary.

I struggled with this statement for a moment. ‘I have no idea,' I exploded.

‘I have heard that you were once his maid and I thought –'

‘You are quite correct that Sir Richard makes advances to maids, but I can assure you I repulsed him.'

‘If he took no for an answer, he is better than most peers of the realm,' said Mary.

I gasped.

‘I have no high opinion of the male of the species,' she said.

‘So I understand. This makes your determination to see your cousin married even more striking.'

‘As we have discussed, she has no other options,' said Mary shortly. ‘I am grateful for your assistance.'

I shook my head. ‘This is a bad night's work,' I said.

‘Unless you are going to tell me the man is a murderer I cannot see that another man would be a better option.'

I opened and then closed my mouth. Given our history there was nothing I could say.

 

⁹
I felt most uncomfortably like my mother saying this.

Chapter Thirteen
Aspersions at breakfast

‘It's all very sad,' Bertram said when I told him the tale at breakfast, ‘but she doesn't sound like the brightest girl. She may well be happy with what Richard offers.'

I grimaced.

Bertram blushed red and said quickly, ‘A lot of ladies have no choice but to lie back and think of England.'

‘More coffee?' I asked, picking up the coffee pot.

‘I mean, well, you know,' said Bertram, fingering the edge of his collar. ‘It's not like many of us marry for love. Is it different with the lower orders, like McLeod?'

The coffee pot hovered over his cup. I did not begin to pour. ‘McLeod?' I said in a tone that Bertram should have known well.

‘He was all up for marrying you for love, until he discovered you were quite bright for a woman. Lucky escape you had there. You got out before people started talking.' He took a sip of his own coffee, then said musingly, ‘I suspect he needs a more amiable, doting sort of bride, though he might not have worked that out yet. Some young thing that will say “Yes, Rory, no, Rory, oh, you're so wonderful, Rory.” God, imagine the pair of them cooing over breakfast. Be enough to make most men sick.'

I barely heard the half of this. The coffee pot wobbled. ‘Quite bright for a woman?' I asked, my voice rising.

Bertram's eyes flickered from the coffee pot to his cup and to my face. He appeared for the first time to notice the danger he was in and edged closer to the table, attempting to place his lap beneath the wood and out of harm's way. ‘I mean, gosh, Euphemia, how you do pick one up! I was only trying to allude to the fact that you and Rory … After all, you did think yourself in love didn't you?'

I put the coffee pot down. Bertram sighed with relief, though I saw he had noticed I had not yet yielded my grip. ‘What has Rory to do with this?' I asked, genuinely puzzled.

‘Well, I say … I mean, it's just … you know, the lower classes don't tend to wait until
the day
.'

‘The day?' I repeated blankly.

‘I mean … you and old McLeod.' Bertram did something extraordinary with his eyebrows. ‘Doing what nature does best … I'm not one to gossip, but if it had gone on much longer someone would have worked it out.' He lowered his voice until it was almost inaudible, ‘That Rory taught you things no lady should know.'

His meaning dawned on me. I took several deep breaths. ‘You are extremely lucky, Bertram Stapleford,' I said in tones so icy my mother would have been proud, ‘that I was gently bred, or I would throw this pot at your head.'

‘Gosh, I mean … I just assumed,' said Bertram, trying to lever himself away from the table, but his chair arms were well wedged beneath it and there was no escape.

‘Bertram, you have made a grievous error in judgement concerning my moral character.'

‘No idea what came over me,' said Bertram desperately.

‘But I will have you know that my mother wishes me to go and live at the Palace as soon as her wedding is done.'

Bertram positively goggled. ‘The Palace?'

‘Oh, not that one, you idiot! A bishop's residence is called a palace.'

‘Right. Oh … will you go? I don't think Richenda will like that.'

‘What won't Richenda like?' said the lady in question, sitting down opposite Bertram, who jumped like a scalded cat at her voice, bashing his knees hard under the table. The other breakfast diners, scattered up and down the long table in groups of two or three as is usual at an informal buffet breakfast, turned to stare at Bertram. Fortunately, it was a very long table and we had been speaking softly.
¹⁰

‘That the bride has had a dress sent from London and is going to look ravishing,' said Bertram, thinking quickly.

Richenda shook her head. ‘It's her last day of freedom before she's shackled to my brother for life, poor thing. Frankly, I feel I should be giving her a medal.' She reached for the toast and took three slices.

Bertram raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you would have had breakfast upstairs, seeing how Richard gave you and Hans a suite. I only got a poky little turret room.'

‘That's a bachelor's lot,' said Richenda. ‘You should get married. And this is baby's breakfast. I've had mine, but he hasn't had his.'

‘You know it's a boy?' asked Bertram.

Richenda and I exchanged looks. ‘I have a feeling,' she said.

‘Don't tell Richard,' begged Bertram. ‘We were going to come to your suite after breakfast and discuss matters.' He looked around the room. ‘Where's Hans?'

‘He's playing with Amy,' said Richenda.

‘Gosh, Richie, is that a German thing? You've got the nursemaid now. I mean, Mother never spent more than half an hour a day with any of us.'

‘And that worked out well, didn't it?'

‘Yes, but the thing is,' said Bertram, not listening, ‘I don't think you should be going around on your own.'

‘Why ever not?' said Richenda.

Bertram lowered his voice to a whisper, so Richenda had to lean over the table to hear him. Her sleeve inevitably trailed in the jam. ‘Well, the thing is, Euphemia and I … well, the thing is…'

‘Oh, spit it out, Bertie,' said Richenda in exasperation.

Before I could stop him, Bertram said, ‘We're pretty sure that Richard is going to try and kill you today.'

‘Today?' echoed Richenda.

‘Well … maybe not today, but while you're at the castle.'

‘Did you hear him say this?' asked Richenda. ‘Don't think for a moment I want to give the cad the benefit of the doubt, but even I see some issues with inviting me up here with a whole host of witnesses, just to bump me off. I would have thought he'd send that weasel of an agent of his down to the estate when Hans was away on business, and got him to do the dirty deed quietly.'

‘You know, your association with Euphemia is doing you no favours,' said Bertram harshly. ‘That's not the kind of thing a lady should ever think about. I mean, we've all accepted, one way or another, that Euphemia keeps falling over dead bodies, but, honestly, it's not on for
you
to concern yourself with such things.'

‘I'll have you know I have been very useful,' said Richenda crossly. ‘I found out very important information the last time Euphemia was in jail. And I don't see why you should have all the fun!'

‘We were on to the landlady,' said Bertram.

‘Enough,' I hissed before he gave away more than he should. Richenda had no idea that our last escapade had involved the British Secret Service and I wanted to keep it that way. ‘We had no idea about her, Bertram. Richenda was invaluable.'

‘Thank you,' said Richenda.

‘But I do think rather than quibbling about the past we should think about the future and whether the threat is real.'

‘Why would he?' asked Richenda.

‘Because you're with child,' said Bertram, and blushed again. ‘And if nature runs to course, your child will be the first legitimate child born into the family.'

‘Oh, the Hall,' said Richenda, waving her hands about airily. ‘Forget what I said last night. I admit I wanted to annoy him, but I have no interest in the place. I'm happy on Hans' estate. The Hall has nothing but bad memories for me.'

‘That's a bit of an about-face,' said Bertram.

‘Yes, well, what with Amy arriving on the scene, and being pregnant – and Hans, of course – it's all made me think differently about a lot of things. That bloody house has been a curse on our family. Richard thinks the more property and money he can get his hands on, the better life will be, but I've discovered that alongside riding, my greatest pleasure is sitting on the floor in a most unladylike way and playing with my daughter.'

‘Bravo, Richenda!' I said.

‘That's all very well and good,' said Bertram, ‘but that doesn't change the fact that, according to our father's will, the Hall will be yours.'

‘But I don't want it,' said Richenda. ‘I'll tell Richard he can have it.'

‘A man's pride,' said Bertram.

‘He wouldn't,' said Richenda, ‘I mean, I'm sure he wouldn't. Apart from anything it would be too awkward.'

‘He wouldn't have planned for it,' said Bertram. ‘He didn't know. None of us did. But now he does, he'll have to fudge something.'

‘Perhaps,' I interjected before the argument got more heated, and more to the point, louder, ‘we should bring Hans in on our discussions and see what he has to say. He is liable to have a less, er, less influenced perspective than any of us.'

I expected Richenda to balk at the idea, but instead she clapped her hands. ‘Excellent,' she said. ‘That's just the thing to stop him fretting about my losing the child, like his first wife always did. He can go all protective.' She smiled smugly. ‘I could enjoy this.'

 

¹⁰
Not that discretion would necessarily have occurred to Bertram. One of the few things he has acquired from the upper classes is the notion that he can say what he likes when he likes.

Chapter Fourteen
Hans is sensible

Hans took the news that his wife's twin might be intending to kill her surprisingly calmly. We were all seated in the saloon of their suite. Richenda had had tea and cake sent up. I thought, at first, that Hans might not have understood her through the sponge she was currently demolishing.

‘I did think about this,' he said.

‘You did?' I asked, surprised.

Hans reached out and touched his wife's hand. ‘Not that he would harm Richenda, but that he would certainly be very angry about our child being born first. Do you want to own Stapleford Hall, Richenda?'

Richenda shook her head. She had begun on a custard tart and even she could not speak through that.

‘Well, neither do I,' said Hans. ‘You can sign it over to Richard and all will be well. We can make our right to it our wedding gift to the happy couple.'

‘That's an excellent idea,' I said. ‘Bertram was sure his pride would mean he wouldn't accept it, but he cannot refuse a wedding gift. Especially if Richenda tells his bride what she means to do first.'

Hans smiled at me. ‘Even better,' he said. ‘I imagine that even in Scotland they have lawyers. I shall have the butler telephone for one, and we will draw up the papers today.'

Bertram heaved a sign. ‘All feels a bit of a wash-out now,' he said sadly.

‘So sorry I am not to be assassinated for your entertainment,' said Richenda tartly.

‘Oh, I say, sis, you know I didn't mean that! It's just when a man's blood is up … it's, well, up.'

‘Never mind, Bertram,' said Hans, ‘you can guard Richenda until the papers are drawn up. I trust you.'

Bertram positively preened at this. ‘As you want,' said Richenda, ‘I am due in the nursery to have a dolls' tea party with Ellie and Amy. You can play the butler.'

Bertram's eyes darted to me. Clearly, this was not what he intended. ‘Don't look at me,' I said. ‘I need to go and find Mary Hill and see if I can make my peace with her.'

Richenda's head came up. ‘Good luck with that.'