Death Comes to Kurland Hall (21 page)

Delving into his pocket, Robert took out the locket and considered what Paul had told him. Mrs. Chingford had been convinced that Mrs. Fairfax had lied to her husband about her birth and had concealed the fact that she had been married previously to a soldier who had never returned home. Had that been enough to frighten Mrs. Fairfax into killing Mrs. Chingford? Was it possible that the first husband was still alive and her union with Thomas's father had been a bigamous one, thus making her child illegitimate?

That might be a good enough reason to kill. He shook his head. Now he was becoming as fanciful as Miss Harrington. Robert went back into the hall and shouted for Foley, who appeared after a rather lengthy wait and with a long-suffering expression on his face.

“Yes, Major Kurland? I was just getting into bed.”

“I'm going to Fairfax Park tomorrow. Have the gig at the door by six. I'll get Silas to pack a bag. There is no need for anyone to come with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Foley yawned discreetly behind his hand. “May I go back to bed now?”

Chapter 19

“H
as he asked you yet?” Penelope said.

“Asked me what?” Lucy was busy scanning the park beyond the house and wondering how big a gardening staff would be needed to keep it in such immaculate condition. It was late afternoon on the day after their arrival, and she was beginning to feel in much better spirits.

“To marry you, silly.”

Lucy swung around to look at Penelope. They were strolling down an elegant line of topiary trees that led, so Mr. Fairfax had said, to an excellent vantage point of the whole valley. Mrs. Green had accompanied them, leaving Miss Stanford sulking in her room.

“Mr. Fairfax is far too busy dealing with the estate to have time for such ridiculous questions. I can only commend his diligence and hope to match him when I present my report of his household.”

Penelope raised her eyebrows. “Indeed. You are such a paragon, Miss Harrington. How can he fail to be impressed?”

Lucy started walking again. “The funeral for Mrs. Fairfax is in two days. I think we should consider leaving after that.”

“Are we not supposed to wait until Major Kurland writes to tell us that he has gotten rid of Mr. Reading? That
was
his plan, wasn't it?”

“Who told you that?” Lucy asked.

“Mrs. Green, of course. She is constantly worried that Mr. Reading will appear and attempt to run away with Miss Stanford.”

“Do you think he is desperate enough to try it?”

“He has no money and no prospects, beyond his faint hopes of succeeding Major Kurland. I should imagine an heiress like Miss Stanford would be very hard to give up.”

“Then perhaps we should keep an eye out for him.” Lucy sighed. “What I can't understand is why Miss Stanford is so attached to him. With her family and fortune, she can hardly want for suitors.”

“He can be very charming when he wants to be,” Penelope observed. “And Miss Stanford is even older than we are. Perhaps she thinks he is her last chance to make it to the altar.”

“It is such a shame that we have no other options,” Lucy said passionately. “Why
can't
we live independently and manage our own fortunes?”

“And be thought peculiar and not be invited anywhere?” Penelope snorted. “Who would want a life like that? Any husband is better than being a spinster or a drudge.”

Lucy turned away to consider the view, which was as pleasant as Mr. Fairfax had promised.

“At least you don't have to worry about being left on the shelf, Lucy. You have the very eligible Mr. Fairfax after you and have already turned down Major Kurland. I would be delighted to be in your shoes.”

“Please be my guest.”

Penelope sighed loudly. “I don't quite understand how Mr. Fairfax could look at me and
not
want to make me his wife.”

Lucy refrained from replying to that. “Shall we turn back? I have arranged to speak to the cook before dinner.”

Mrs. Green joined them on the stroll back to the house. Her conversation alternated between approving of Fairfax Park and lamenting Miss Stanford's choice in men, which saved Lucy having to think of a single thing to say. At the side door of the house, she bid her companions good-bye and took the back route to the large kitchen at the rear of the property.

Inside, preparations were already under way for dinner, and Lucy waited quietly until the cook's attention wasn't distracted before introducing herself. There was a goodly number of staff in the kitchen, and they seemed very competent, despite the lack of a housekeeper. After issuing a series of orders, the cook came to sit with Lucy at the table in the servants' dining hall.

“Mr. Fairfax said I was to speak to you freely, Miss Harrington.”

“That is much appreciated, Mrs. Holmes.” Lucy smiled. “I must compliment you on the dinner last night. It was excellent, as was this morning's breakfast.”

“Thank you, miss.”

“One would scarcely notice in such a well-run kitchen that the house no longer has a housekeeper. Do you feel the lack of one, Mrs. Holmes? Or do you find yourself equal to taking on all the extra duties yourself?”

“If there was a
proper
housekeeper installed, I would be happy to welcome her.”

“As opposed to . . . ?”

“Mrs. Fairfax trying to do the job herself or expecting that nurse, Madge Summers, to do it for her. I'm not surprised that ended in tears, with neither of them knowing how to go on and manage a household.”

“Are you saying Mrs. Fairfax expected Mrs. Summers to fulfill the role of housekeeper?”

“She offered her the job in an attempt to keep her sweet and stop her leaving, but Madge would have none of it. And quite rightly so. Everyone should know their place, Miss Harrington, and be grateful and thankful to the Lord for it.”

Lucy nodded as one of the scullery maids brought in a tray of tea.

“We are all pleased to see Mr. Fairfax back in his rightful spot, Miss Harrington. Things were never the same after he left.” Mrs. Holmes sighed. “He was such a lovely boy.”

“I'm sure he will do his best to keep the estate in excellent order for his half brother.”

Mrs. Holmes hesitated, her hand poised over the teapot, before she poured. “He's a saint if he does.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because Mrs. Fairfax did everything in her power to keep him from his dying father. She even claimed that Mr. Fairfax propositioned her!” The cook shook her head. “That was the final straw for young Thomas. He left soon afterward, heartbroken that his father believed that woman over him. Not that there weren't rumors about her long before that.” She lowered her voice. “Some said she trapped the old master into marriage when she met him at another house, where a relative of hers worked!”

Lucy sipped her tea and made encouraging noises.

“She was much younger than him and obviously from a very different social class. When it all came out about Madge being a relative of hers, it all made sense, but at least the old gentleman never knew about that. He was too ill to be bothered by anything except examining his conscience and meeting his Lord and Savior.”

“And now Mrs. Fairfax is dead, as well,” Lucy said.

“Leaving that poor little boy behind.” Mrs. Holmes sighed. “At least the estate is in good hands. I've known Thomas since he was young master Robin's age. He was brought here to live after his mother's death. Mr. Fairfax treated him like a son. We all thought he'd inherit the estate, and then
she
arrived and less than a year afterward gave birth to her son.”

“Mr. Fairfax was an excellent land agent for Major Kurland at Kurland Hall. I'm sure he will do even better here, working on an estate he loves. I know he is anxious to set the household to rights and particularly wanted your opinion on hiring a housekeeper.”

Mrs. Holmes patted her hair. “He always was a good boy who respected his elders.”

Lucy rose and put down her cup. “I won't take up any more of your valuable time, Mrs. Holmes. I know you have a dinner to prepare. Thank you for sharing your opinions on the matter. I shall tell Mr. Fairfax that you are in favor as long as the correct person is found.”

“That's right, miss.” Mrs. Holmes put the cups back on the tray. “I'm sure he'll listen to you.”

Lucy was fully aware that the whole household was buzzing with the notion of her presence there meaning an imminent proposal, but she had no intention of confirming it.

“I do hope so, Mrs. Holmes.”

She waited for the cook to leave the dining room and started to walk toward the main kitchen exit into the interior of the house. A footman came clattering down the back stairs, a tray in his hands, which contained a multitude of broken china and bits of food.

“Damn if she didn't throw the thing at me!” He slid the tray onto the table and rubbed at something on his face, his back to Lucy as he addressed the butler. “I'm not going up there again.”

Simmons coughed loudly and bowed to Lucy. “Is everything all right, Miss Harrington?”

“Yes, indeed.” Lucy smiled at him, as if she hadn't noticed the odd scene. “I was just going to retire upstairs to dress for dinner.”

The footman said nothing more as Simmons escorted Lucy to the correct door and bowed her out of it. As she went upstairs, she considered who might have thrown a tray of food at the unsuspecting footman. Could it have been Miss Stanford? Or was there an old Fairfax aunt secreted somewhere in the house who needed nursing care? If there was, no one had mentioned it to her on her tour.

Her thoughts returned to Mrs. Holmes and her opinion of her dead mistress. Lucy was beginning to feel quite sorry for Mrs. Fairfax. No one seemed to like her. But the revelation that she might have lied to force Mr. Fairfax to disown his own son was horrifying . . . even more so for Thomas Fairfax, who had been stripped of everything he'd loved in one blow.

At her bedchamber door, she paused and went to knock on Penelope's door instead. She found her companion sitting at her vanity, having her hair styled by the maid. She waited until the girl left.

“Penelope, did your mother ever mention where she first thought she'd met Mrs. Fairfax?”

“I think it had something to do with Mrs. Fairfax visiting Madge. I'm not sure if she came to our home or if Madge told my mother that she had met with her daughter on a day off. Why?”

“Because Mrs. Holmes suggested that Mrs. Fairfax met Mr. Fairfax at one of her relative's homes, while her relative was in service.”

“So you think Mrs. Fairfax took advantage of her mother's position in a good household to find herself a rich, older husband?”

“It does sound possible.”

“From what we know of her, I suppose it does.” Penelope put on her earrings. “It doesn't seem as if her ambition made for a happy marriage, though. She was overawed by polite society and probably terrified of being found out.”

“Terrified enough to silence your mother?”

“With her future and the future of her son at stake, I would imagine so.” Penelope sighed. “Perhaps she didn't mean to kill my mother and panicked when she did and killed herself.”

“And left her son unprotected?” Lucy shook her head. “One thing everyone agrees on is that she was an excellent and devoted mother.”

“She left him in Mr. Fairfax's care.”

“Which he didn't expect, and he confided in me that she had only recently changed her will to provide for that instance. He was quite shocked to be given guardianship over the house and his half brother.” Lucy stared at Penelope. “So perhaps we should let this puzzle go, accept what happened, and move on.”

“I suppose you are right.” Penelope stood and shook out her skirts. “But what about Mr. Reading and Madge Summers and—”

Lucy held up her hand. “I am going to change for dinner, or I will be late.”

“Have it your way, then,” Penelope huffed.

Lucy went through to her bedchamber and rang for the maid. She had to stop worrying about this matter. There were other, more pressing issues to consider, such as whether Mr. Fairfax intended to propose to her and exactly what she would say if he did.

 

“I'm sorry, Major, but Mr. Coleman and the two grooms are both sick.”

“Then you can drive me.”

“I can't, sir. I have to stay here and manage the stables while everyone else pukes their guts up, sir.”

Robert glanced over at the two horses harnessed to the light carriage and set his jaw. It was barely dawn, and his sense of urgency about reaching Fairfax Park had increased through every sleepless hour of the night. “All right. I'll take them myself.”

“Thank you, sir. Mr. Coleman suggested taking your valet with you if you need company.”

“Thank Mr. Coleman for his suggestion, and tell him I'll be fine.”

The stable boy stowed Robert's bags in the gig and held the horses while Robert got in and took the reins. For a long moment he did nothing but stare straight ahead and struggle to breathe. He reminded himself that this was not like riding a horse into battle and that he was in no danger of being trapped under one of the animals.

It didn't help much.

Gritting his teeth, he eased the horses forward and set off.

 

“Mr. Fairfax?”

Lucy knocked on the half-opened door of the estate office and looked inside. Mr. Fairfax sat at a large oak desk covered in papers and leather-bound books. He looked as if he hadn't slept since his arrival at his former home.

“Miss Harrington, do come in. I fear I have been neglecting my guests.” He stood and bowed, his quill pen still in his hand. “I was just about to come in search of you and ask how you were finding Fairfax Park.”

She took the seat in front of his desk. “I find it quite delightful, Mr. Fairfax. Despite your worries, you appear to have inherited a loyal and competent staff who are more than willing to continue to work for the good of the family and for you.”

“Well, that is a relief.” He sighed. “I was worried that my father's wife had alienated the staff and that they were all ready to leave.”

“Not at all. I did inquire as to whether your cook and butler thought you needed to employ a housekeeper, and they both believe it is a good idea, but only if you could find someone
suitable
. If you wish, I could draft an advertisement for you to send to the papers and employment agencies.”

“I would be very grateful if you could find the time to do that, Miss Harrington.” Mr. Fairfax gestured at the piles on his desk. “The house might be running smoothly, but the books are a disgrace. The steward Mrs. Fairfax employed was a scoundrel. I'm having a hard time making sense of some of these accounting methods.”