Lies and Misdemeanours (17 page)

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Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #romantic suspense, #mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #historical mystery, #romantic adventure

BOOK: Lies and Misdemeanours
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“What happened to the old vicar – the one before Arthur?”

“He left suddenly,” Hetty sighed. She wished that they could do a little more kissing; she loved the masterful way his lips captured hers, and the delicious feelings he brought forth within her.

When Charlie looked down at her askance, she sighed and reluctantly turned her thoughts to the last thing she wanted to discuss: the church.

“He had been there for a long time, several years in fact. Everyone thought he was settled in the village. Then, one day, he literally just upped and left. Snetterton immediately took over the services; which made the numbers attending church drop, I can tell you. Then, your friend, Reverend Potts appeared. He was considerably younger than the old vicar, and seemed to have a lot going for him. It was a shock to everyone when he was found dead.” She tipped her head back so she could look up at him. “Do you think Meldrew had something to do with Arthur’s death?”

“I rather suspect it may have been either Meldrew, or Snetterton,” he replied with a sigh.

Hetty stared at him. “You think that Snetterton might have had something to do with Reverend Potts’ death?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he replied honestly. “It is a possibility we cannot ignore right now. We need to meet with the verger again, and ask him a few more questions.”

Hetty knew that there would never be a better opportunity to ask him what she desperately needed to know.

“How did you meet Arthur? You said you grew up together, but he is the third son of Lord Upton.”

He briefly contemplated how to phrase what he had to tell her, but then realised that there really was no gentle way.

“Arthur’s father was a friend of my father’s. I am the third son of Lord Crombie. By rights, I should have joined the clergy at the same time that Arthur did.” He mentally cursed when she stopped kissing him, and grew still and quiet. “I joined the army instead,” he finished quietly.

“You are aristocracy.”

He mentally winced at the slightly accusing tone to her voice. Although she didn’t say anything accusing, there was a hint of betrayal in her eyes that bothered him. Determined to allay any doubts she might have, he sighed and dragged her back down to lie beside him again.

“I haven’t been home in many years, to be honest with you. War changes a man. Can you seriously see me giving sermons?”

Hetty’s lips twitched.

“Or blessing people?”

She coughed uncomfortably, and looked down at the thick patch of hair on his chest.

He tipped her chin up until she was looking at him again. “Or judging the jam competition at the summer fete?”

She couldn’t withhold it, she burst out laughing. He chuckled and shook his head.

“God, then I would know that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he added dryly. He shook his head and returned to his memories. “I went to join the fight against France. The rest, as they say, is history. You know that I was sent back to England with messages for the War Office but, once here, I was seconded to the Star Elite. I have been working with them ever since.”

“Why have you never gone home?”

Charlie sighed, and tucked one long arm behind his head as he frowned up at the sky. “I was never close to my brothers. We were essentially raised by nannies, so I wasn’t all that close to my parents either. When my father ordered me to join the clergy, I refused. It caused many arguments, I can tell you. In the end, he gave me the choice of the army or the clergy, so I joined the army. At the time the eldest brother hadn’t joined but I understand that he did buy a commission a year or so later.”

“So, why haven’t you gone back to see them?” She leaned back to look up at him.

The humour had gone from his face, and been replaced with a dark frown. She knew from the distant look in his eye that he was miles away, locked in the past somewhere, and didn’t know whether to prompt him for an answer or not.

Eventually, he seemed to realise that she was still waiting.

“I heard from my boss that both of my brothers were killed in battle a couple of years ago.”

“God, I am sorry,” she whispered.

“Unfortunately, I am the last person who would be happy running an estate the likes of Ryder Hall. My father has asked me to return. Several times in fact. I have no doubt that he wants to mould me to take over running the estate when he passes. To be honest with you, after what I have experienced at war, I have no intention of living amongst such pomp and circumstance. The Ryder estates have always been my father’s domain, and he can keep them.”

Hetty frowned. “But it is your heritage. Your birth-right.”

“It is stiff and formal beyond belief. It sucks the life out of you. I don’t want any part of that. I have been at war; I have fought, killed, and maimed to stay alive. Even since the war, as a matter of fact. I cannot go from the life I have lived with the Star Elite, to one of arranging roof repairs, and rubbing shoulders with nabobs at Whites. It’s just not me.” He grinned at her. “I am more of an ale, or two, down at the tavern kind of man.”

“I know that,” she huffed. “I had to drag your carcass off our doorstep the last time you had an ale or ten,” she reminded him.

“That you did,” he whispered as he leaned over her intently. “That you did,” and he proceeded to show her just how very grateful he was.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Later that day, Hetty rode quietly beside Charlie toward Afferley. Although she was outwardly relaxed and at ease, her mind refused to settle. Her thoughts jumped from one thing to another in a confusing jumble until she wasn’t sure what to think.

She was still reeling from the fact that he was the third son of Lord Crombie. Although she had no idea who Lord Crombie was, or where he came from, she suspected that Charlie had a title or two somewhere given that his brothers, the heirs to the estate, were now dead.

She decided to let the matter drop for now. They had other things to think about, like how they were going to get to Afferley without being followed.

“What is it?” Charlie murmured when he saw the thoughtful frown on her face.

Hetty looked across at him. “How will Sir Hugo expect to get Meldrew to step down? I mean, the man is so arrogant that nothing, and nobody, stands in his way. Although Sir Hugo comes from the War Office, he is still one man, whereas Meldrew has many men working for him.”

Charlie sighed. “I cannot speak for him directly, you understand, but I think that we are going to have to gather evidence so that Sir Hugo has something to present to Meldrew, or another magistrate. Without visible evidence that Meldrew has been involved in any crimes, the crooked magistrate could walk free.”

Charlie had dealt with many men like Meldrew before. However, in all of his years with the Star Elite, he had never met anyone as ruthlessly determined to use the gallows as a method of threatening his victims before, and been in a position to get away with it so frequently.

“At some point someone is going to have to go through all of the trials Meldrew has presided over, and revisit them to make sure that crimes were actually committed. Someone needs to make sure that proper trials took place, and appropriate sentences were issued. I strongly doubt that anything Meldrew has done has ever been fair, to be honest with you. We just won’t know for certain until everything has been investigated thoroughly.”

“That’s going to take a very long time,” Hetty replied with a scowl. “I have to wonder if Meldrew would be foolish enough to leave any incriminating paperwork in place. After all, he could lie, forge documents, etc., etc., and nobody is in any position to call him a liar and come up with any proof to say otherwise.”

Charlie looked at her. “What do you know about Blagmire?”

Hetty sighed and tipped her head back so that the sunshine could bathe her face in its warmth. Given their recent activities she should be exhausted, but she wasn’t. She was buzzing instead, and thrilled that he appeared to want her to help him with his investigation.

“He owns – owned, the old coaching in, the Goat and Cloak.” She smiled when his brows lifted, and he looked askance at her.

“The Goat and Cloak?”

“I know,” she smiled. “It’s about half way between Hemsley and Tattersnell. It’s been in his family for generations.”

“Did Blagmire know Snetterton?”

Hetty thought about that for a moment. She couldn’t understand the direction of his thoughts, but considered his question anyway.

“I really don’t know for definite. I suspect that Blagmire was probably busy with his coaching inn, and didn’t go to church much. But that’s not to say that he didn’t know Snetterton. You need to ask his wife about that.”

“He had a wife?” Charlie looked at her with a frown.

“Yes; and three children.”

“Where are they now?”

Hetty shrugged. “Still at the Goat and Cloak, I think. I really don’t know. Why?”

“How was Blagmire bullied? I mean, how do you go about threatening a business like a tavern?” Charlie frowned. “I know that Meldrew’s men blocked the driveway to the mill once, but what happened at the Goat and Cloak?”

“Although Blagmire couldn’t prove anything, he suspected that Meldrew’s men were stopping coaches from using the road that led to the inn. Rumour has it that Meldrew’s men would wait for the coaches at the main road and order them to carry on to the coaching inn in Bannerson. Obviously, Blagmire lost trade and that cost him money. As a result, he hit on hard times.”

Charlie nodded. For a coaching inn that was located quite rurally, the passing coaches brought in good trade. Bad weather notwithstanding, the inns relied on passing travellers to fill their beds at night and purchase food and drink. To have just one coach waylaid could damage the purse-strings significantly. To have it happen on a regular basis would soon leave the business running at a loss. Once coaches got into the habit of passing by, the trade would be impossible to recoup.

“Did Blagmire pay Meldrew anything?”

“I really don’t know. Simon may have heard rumours in the tavern, if Blagmire told anyone, but I certainly didn’t hear of anything.” Hetty frowned at him. “Why?”

Charlie shook his head and gazed off into the distance. “So you don’t know if Blagmire knew the vicar or verger at Hemsley?”

“What’s all this about Charlie? You don’t think that the verger had anything to do with Blagmire’s death, do you? Did you see Snetterton on the night you were arrested?” Hetty stared at him with wide eyes.

A part of her simply refused to believe that a member of the clergy could be a cold-hearted murderer. In reality, though she knew that she couldn’t really discount anyone as a culprit until the killer was found.

“No, I didn’t see anyone other than whom I presume were Meldrew’s men.”

“I can’t see Snetterton killing Blagmire, even if he knew him. The verger had arguments with your friend, yes. It is conceivable, I suppose, that Snetterton was so jealous of the vicar that he killed him, but I really don’t know how Meldrew fits into it all.” Her head was beginning to ache with the weight of the questions that tumbled through her.

She had to wonder if Charlie, a veritable stranger to the area, was making any sense of it either.

“I think that there is nothing we can discount as being unconnected,” Charlie warned. “Meldrew is in the thick of this, I am sure of it. We just don’t know how yet.”

“How do you cope with all of this every day?” Hetty asked suddenly. “I mean, I am so confused right now that I don’t know what to think about anything. After everything you have been through, most people would be more than happy to spend a few days in front of the fire, thanking God that they are still alive. Yet here you are, charging through the countryside, trying to get into the mind of the county’s biggest blackguard.”

“Believe me, I would love to sit in front of the fire and do nothing for a couple of days. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that knowing that Meldrew was likely to burst through the door at any moment. I don’t want anyone going through what we have been through. Simon and I were just two of Meldrew’s many unsuspecting victims. Heaven only knows how many more have been put to death so needlessly already. We have to stop him from claiming more victims, and quickly.” He turned to look at her and softened his voice. “Then, I can relax in front of the fire, and stay there for a while.”

The sudden huskiness in his voice captured her attention. Her gaze flew to his, and a silent understanding swept between them. She knew that he wanted to stay before the fire with her. The very thought of it thrilled her, and left her with such a pang of yearning that she knew she would do whatever it took to bring that moment to fruition.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he eyed her suddenly flushed cheeks.

“Mmm?”

“I said, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she smiled at him. “How much longer do we have to go?”

Hetty shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, and silently prayed it wouldn’t take too much longer to get there.

“Afferley is about half a mile away,” Charlie replied. The look he gave her was part assurance, part warning. “It won’t be long now before this particular part of our adventure is over.”

Hetty suddenly felt a bittersweet pang of loss. Although she didn’t relish spending another night outside, she would miss being alone with him. She froze at that thought and frowned at the awkward situation that lay ahead.

She was his wife now. Did that mean that he would automatically assume that she would share his bed? If so, what would her brothers make of it? In the jail, he had offered to marry her to protect her in the event of his death. Now that he was a free man, the situation was different.

Now that the marriage had been consummated, it was very real, but what did that mean for their future?

“It won’t be long now,” he assured her when he misread the reason for her discomfiture.

She smiled at him. “I won’t be sorry to get off this horse, I can tell you.”

Charlie nodded. “I am starving. I must admit that this horse is starting to look appetising.”

Hetty groaned and rolled her eyes, but was spared having to reply when the safe house came into view.

When they turned into Afferley’s long driveway, a gasp escaped her.

She wasn’t sure what she had anticipated the safe house to be, but it wasn’t the tall, imposing Jacobean mansion which sat nestled amongst thick woodland. A huge lake lay to the left of the large, rolling green lawns which surround the property on all four sides and was only interrupted by several outbuildings, which appeared to include a stable block.

“Oh, good heavens above,” she whispered.

It felt as though she was entering another world. She stared at the huge chimneys that were lavishly decorated with a zig-zag pattern of darker brickwork. At some point over its centuries of history, someone had added two huge, stone turrets on either side of the massive portico. They made it clear to anyone who happened by that the building was owned by someone of great wealth and status, and one should be mindful of this when entering.

Painted pure white, the house stood out like a beacon against the rolling hills that surrounded it on all sides. The old home of a country squire, it was clearly well tended, and owned by someone who could easily afford to live there.

Charlie grinned at the surprise on her face. “Gorgeous isn’t it?” he murmured.

He eyed the burnished copper of her hair which cascaded in a wild tumble down her back. He knew it really was as soft as it looked now, and clenched his fingers on the reins against the need to slide them into the long tresses.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered reverently.

Indeed it was, and it was a far cry from the mill house she had grown up in. The vast manicured lawns felt as though they belonged in an entirely different world to the one she was used to.

“Where is the owner?” she gulped as she tried to remind herself that it was rude to stare.

Charlie looked a little secretive, and smiled at her. “It’s better not to ask too many questions,” he replied obliquely.

Hetty’s eyes grew wide. “What if the owner comes back?”

Charlie merely winked at her. He could tell her right now that he had no idea where the owner was, or how Sir Hugo had known that the owner was ‘away’. However, from his time in the Star Elite, he had learned not to ask too many questions. Sometimes, it was better to know what you needed to know, not what you wanted to know.

“We need to go around the back,” he replied, carefully side-stepping her question.

No sooner had they drawn to a halt beside the back door, than Wally appeared in the doorway. He hurried toward Hetty, practically yanked her off the horse, and drew her into a fierce hug.

“Thank God,” he growled. “We have been looking for you everywhere.”

Simon suddenly appeared behind him, and threw a relieved look at Charlie as he waited for his turn to hug his sister. “We are so glad to see you.”

“Where is everyone?” Charlie asked as he dismounted. He scowled at Simon. “Are you here alone?”

“Of course not,” Joshua said as he appeared in the doorway. “Glad you chose to join us.”

Charlie grasped his friend’s hand and clapped him on the back. “It was a close call a time or two there, I can tell you.”

“You managed to evade them though?” His eyes met and held Charlie’s meaningfully for several moments.

“Of course,” Charlie replied. He turned to Hetty. “I don’t know about you, darling, but I am starved.”

“I’ll see to the horses,” Joshua called, and took the reins off Charlie.

Hetty stepped into the kitchen and heaved a sigh of relief. Thankfully it was not much different to the kitchen back at home. She looked longingly at the chair in front of the fireplace for several moments. However, before she could say anything, Simon appeared beside her.

“I’ll show you to the room we have set aside for you,” he muttered. “You look exhausted.”

He frowned as he looked at her, but Hetty refused to meet his gaze. She rather suspected that the intimacies she had shared with Charlie were written on her face somewhere. At the moment though, she didn’t want to answer any of his inevitable questions until she had some answers for herself.

“Where is Mabel?” she asked to the room at large.

Wally closed the door behind him, and looked at her.

“Marcus and Barnaby took her to her sister’s house yesterday. She will be safe there, and will stay there until this is all over. We will go and fetch her once it is safe for her to return.”

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