Deadly Inheritance (42 page)

Adam Gray nodded.

‘I was a wing; fast you see, until my knee got clobbered.’

Ursula watched, amazed, as the two men talked football for a couple of minutes, then, realising at last what the investigator was up to, sat down in the chair she had been shown on entering.

Jackman put his hand on the agent’s shoulder. ‘Sorry about all this questioning. You know how it is; for the little lass’s sake we have to get to the bottom of things. It’s plain as a pikestaff you’ve got hold of some information from somewhere and if we’re to sort out who was responsible for her death, we need to know what you do. The Colonel has put his trust in me and I don’t intend to let either the girl or him down.’ He looked around the room, then steered the agent in the direction of a chair. ‘Why don’t we sit down and have a chat, eh?’

To Ursula’s surprise, the two men sat. Thomas Jackman leaned confidentially towards Adam Gray.

‘All we really need is to know who told you Polly was a Mountstanton.’ He spoke quietly, persuasively, and Ursula knew that her part in the interrogation was over.

Adam Gray leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes; all at once he looked very tired. ‘It was Miss Ranner,’ he said eventually. ‘Made me swear I’d never tell anyone else.’

Of course, it had to be. Miss Ranner had employed Polly’s mother, Mary. She had helped her when she found the girl was with child. Mary would have told her who had been responsible for her condition.

‘So you said you would keep it confidential, yes? Yet you told Polly.’

The big man rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. All belligerence had now drained out of him. ‘She deserved to know. I wanted to talk to her, tell her how I thought she should handle it, but I was sent off to Yorkshire. No time for more than those few words. Never thought she’d do anything before I came back and we could discuss it.’

Ursula conjured up the picture of Polly she had put together: bright, knowing, lively; put a girl like that in possession of information that could prove her salvation and she would not wait before using it. How foolish of Adam Gray to imagine she would. He had completely misread his influence with her.

‘So, the Mountstanton who had his way with this Polly’s mother was the father of the Earl who died yesterday, was he?’

The agent sighed heavily. ‘Earl Simon, the fifth Earl.’

‘So we’ve got that sorted. Now, how about the bounder who took advantage of Polly? Have you really no idea who he could be? One of the servants up at the big house, maybe? Chap with plans to rise in the world perhaps but not above enjoying himself with a lovely maid along the way?’

Adam Gray shook his head. ‘Polly thought herself better than them. Even with not knowing who her parents were, she had silly ideas about where she came from – and where she was going. Full of dreams and stupid ambition she was.’ A heavy sigh followed.

Listening to the two men, Ursula suddenly remembered the little incident in the Mountstanton laundry. The girl, Maggie, pounding her fists into the footman’s chest and accusing him of playing fast and loose with Polly.

‘What about John, the tallest of the footmen?’ she said quietly. ‘You don’t think he could have seduced her? He’s very attractive.’

Another shake of the head. ‘Wouldn’t have said so. She could have flirted with him; Polly flirted with everyone – if they were attractive – but, like I said, she held herself to be better than the other servants.’

‘It would have happened about four months ago,’ Ursula said gently. ‘Think back, did Polly seem at all different then? And were there any men visiting Hinton Parva who could have caught her fancy?’

Life seemed to come back into his eyes. ‘I haven’t been thinking straight about matters. Four months ago, that would have been mid-February, right? We were lambing, it’s a busy time, but I did meet Polly one afternoon when she was out with young Lord Harry.’ There was a long pause as he seemed to retreat into himself. Both of his inquisitors waited patiently.

‘You know, you’re right,’ he said, coming back to life. ‘She was so bright that afternoon, joshing with me and the boy. I said it was as though she’d been drinking from some life-giving fountain. And she looked at me, not with the mischief that was usually in her eyes; it was more a pure sort of joy. Funny, I don’t usually notice things like that but, to tell you the truth, I was a bit bowled over by it.’

Ursula wondered if he had thought her joy was because she was together with him. Had he imagined she had feelings for him?

‘She went almost shy, if you could ever say Polly was shy. Then she made some comment about how great it was to see the sun and the boy asked if he could stroke one of the lambs. So we had fun catching hold of one.’ Another pause. ‘As to visitors to the village, no, I don’t remember any.’

‘What about the Earl, and his brother, Colonel Stanhope?’ asked Jackman. ‘Could either of them have been responsible for her condition?’

The agent looked pole-axed by the question. For several seconds he sat looking at the investigator before saying, ‘Nay, his lordship weren’t the womaniser his father were.’

That seemed to dispel any idea the man could have shot his employer.

‘And Colonel Charles was in London with his regiment all that time,’ said Gray.

To Ursula it was significant that the only reason it seemed the agent ruled out the possibility of the Colonel seducing Polly was because he was not at home. For a moment she sat stunned. She had good reason to believe that the Colonel had indeed been in the area at the relevant time. Could he have taken advantage of an innocent girl, one who, unbeknownst to him, was also his half-sister? Then she steadied her whirling thoughts. The Colonel was not the sort of man to seduce a servant girl and, even if he had been, surely he could not have disguised the revulsion the letter would have provoked when he found out she was so closely related? Whatever had distressed him after their interview with Helen, it was not that. No, she decided, they could count the Colonel out.

Thomas Jackman rose. ‘Mr Gray, thank you for being so co-operative. We shall take our leave and report back to Colonel Stanhope.’

‘I would hope you can leave out Miss Ranner’s name,’ the agent said. ‘I did promise not to reveal what she told me.’

Jackman held out his hand. Gray rose and shook it.

‘We’ll do what we can,’ Jackman said soothingly.

‘Thank you, Mr Gray,’ said Ursula, standing also. ‘I am sure the Colonel will be very grateful to hear what you have told us.’

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Adele, the agent’s sister, entered.

Polite conversation had to be made and by the time Ursula and Mr Jackman were able to take their leave, the light was going, dark clouds loomed and rain threatened.

Outside, Barnaby stood quietly, one leg bent, resting. He looked up hopefully as Ursula untied the reins from the hitching post, twitched his ears and gave his body a little shake.

Adam Gray helped Ursula into the trap, then they were off.

‘Weather doesn’t look good,’ said Jackman.

Ursula’s lips tightened and she made no reply. Yet she found that her feelings towards the investigator had improved. She had to admire the way he set her up to receive the agent’s immediate onslaught, then had slipped underneath his defences. The Colonel had known what he was doing when he hired Thomas Jackman.

Ursula clicked the reins, encouraging Barnaby into a faster pace through the rapidly failing light.

The first part of the journey went well. Barnaby, no doubt aware that home lay ahead, trotted happily without veering from the centre of the road.

Then, from the direction of Mountstanton, came the sound of a horse galloping down the narrow road towards them.

Ursula expected it to slow as the rider saw them. But if anything the horse’s speed increased. She saw that the rider was a woman, urging on her mount, her head close to its neck. As far as she was concerned, the trap might not have existed.

Ursula pulled at the reins, shouting at Barnaby and attempting to move him out of the way. Whereas before the horse had seemed to have an inexplicable fascination for the wayside ditches, now he appeared determined to remain in the centre of the road. As she tried to force him away from the oncoming danger, he broke into a series of small, sideways steps that she recognised as the ‘dance’ the groom had warned her about. The galloping horse came on, the ditch beckoned, Barnaby danced and threw up his head, snorting terribly; the trap wobbled on the verge, then its near side wheel slipped over the edge. Both passengers were thrown out into the water-lined ditch.

As the rider galloped past them, apparently unconscious of their plight, Ursula saw that it was Belle.

The brief vision of Belle riding like a girl possessed etched itself on Ursula’s mind. Then she found herself in the ditch. Before she could struggle to her feet, the trap slid inexorably down the bank, catching the folds of her skirt and petticoat beneath a wheel. She was trapped in the waterlogged depths.

Terrified screams came from Barnaby, held by the harness and dragged off his feet by the falling vehicle, his front legs flailing as they failed to gain any purchase.

Ursula tried to pull herself free but the material was firmly captured. Panic filled her. Then Jackman was there. Standing in the debris-strewn ditch, he put his shoulder to the back of the trap. The weight lifted just enough for Ursula to release her garments.

‘Thank you, Mr Jackman.’ She pushed herself into a sitting position. ‘Are you hurt at all?’

He grunted and allowed the trap to drop back, one wheel in the ditch, the other perched precariously on the verge edge. ‘Seem to have come off all right, thanks miss. How about yourself?’

Ursula gingerly stood and lifted first one foot and then the other, testing that each could bear her weight. ‘Like you, I appear to have escaped injury.’ Even the ankle that had been sprained seemed only slightly worse. She tried to climb up from the ditch but was hampered by the heavy weight of her soaked skirts.

‘Let’s be having you out of there.’ Thomas Jackman reached down towards her.

‘The horse needs calming, Mr Jackman. I can manage.’

‘Never been any good with livestock, miss. Take my hand.’

A powerful tug from his strong arm pulled her onto dry land. It was wonderful to be free but Ursula found she was shaking with the shock of the crash. She thanked the detective with a voice that trembled. Then she pulled herself together and went to soothe Barnaby and to assess the situation.

‘If I keep the horse quiet, Mr Jackman, can you release the harness?’

He studied the buckles as Barnaby, thrashing his legs, threw his head from side to side and blew threateningly through his nose. ‘Can you stop the animal from kicking me.’

Several minutes later, Ursula had managed to quieten the horse.

As she was about to instruct the investigator on how the harness was fastened, Ursula realised there was no need.

More quickly than she had dared to hope, Barnaby was freed and able to struggle to his feet.

Thomas Jackman looked at the trap. ‘Can’t say I have your acquaintance with this sort of conveyance, Miss Grandison,’ he said. ‘But I’ve had enough doings with carts and drays. I’m afraid even if we can manage to get this onto the road, it’s in no state to get us back to Mountstanton.’

One of the shafts had shattered under Barnaby’s weight and the wheel that had pinned Ursula’s skirts stuck out at a crazy angle.

‘The axle’s gone, see?’ Jackman pointed underneath the trap. ‘And those spokes look dodgy.’

Ursula stroked Barnaby’s neck, feeling his shudders gradually lessening. ‘We’d better walk back to the house; they can send what’s necessary to get it back on the road.’

‘What about the horse, miss?’ He looked nervously at the animal.

‘I’ll lead it.’ Ursula spoke more confidently than she felt. Her relief at discovering that her damaged ankle was only slightly worse was tempered by realising that since her sprain, she had not undertaken a walk anywhere near the length it would take to get back to Mountstanton. And foolishly she had left her stick behind.

‘Why not ride?’ suggested Thomas Jackman.

‘Barnaby’s been thoroughly shaken up by the accident; he needs time to recover himself.’

‘Him and us both! Well, we’d better get going while we’ve still got enough light to show us the way.’

Ursula looked through the gloom in the direction Belle had galloped. The glimpse of her desperate face came back to haunt her. What had happened to make the girl set off into the countryside at this time of day? Where could she have been going? And why had she been so lost to everything but herself that she had not seen the trap coming towards her?

There were no answers nor any possibility of following Belle; she would be far away by now.

‘We’d better step lively, Mr Jackman. It’s about to rain.’

The going was not easy. Ursula did not know which was worse, coping with the ruts and pot holes of the badly maintained road or walking on the grass verge; the way her feet sank into the soft ground made progress exhausting. She chose the road.

‘This Miss Ranner,’ said Jackman, walking beside her. ‘She a softly spoken spinster of some sixty summers, untidy brown hair poking out of a russet bonnet, sharp blue eyes?’

‘I couldn’t describe her better myself.’

‘Talked to her regarding attendance at the birthday fête. She was able to place the position of various villagers in a highly satisfactory manner. Could have been a policeman; almost told her so.’

Ursula was amused and said she thought Miss Ranner would have been too.

‘So how does she fit into the picture as regards the nursery maid?’

Ursula explained how Mary, Polly’s mother, had worked for Miss Ranner, and how the woman had helped the girl when she realised she was with child. ‘Mary died giving birth. Polly was placed in an orphanage but Miss Ranner supervised her education and provided the reference that secured her the position in the Mountstanton nursery.’

‘I think she should be visited tomorrow,’ Ursula said finally.