Murder At Rudhall Manor (3 page)

"Lord Adair!" Lucy gasped in shock.

"You know me?" he asked in surprise.

"I saw you arrive in the balloon."

He winced.

"You did not like the balloon ride?"

"On the contrary, it was delightful."

"You looked very cold when you alighted."

"Currently it is you, Miss Trotter, who is
shivering." He offered her an arm. "Come, sit down near the
fire."

Lucy's lashes flickered. Lord Adair was treating her as if
she were a lady. It was a novel experience after being seen as little better
than a scullery maid by the Sedley family.

She eyed him suspiciously, but his bland expression left her
feeling muddled.

She uncomfortably pulled the dress higher up her shoulder
suddenly aware of her dishevelled appearance and the screaming spectacle she
had made of herself a moment before.

He ignored her discomfort and grasping her arm nudged her
towards a seat. He gently pushed her backwards until she collapsed back onto
the overstuffed chair.

Her legs flew up, her wet petticoats slapped her ankles, and
her back sank low into the large seat of the chair where her behind should have
been.

She hurriedly straightened herself, and the raging anger in
her bosom was replaced by embarrassment. She turned her face away from him
pretending to warm her frozen face in the heat from the fire.

"Lady Sedley, perhaps you can ask for some coffee for
Miss Trotter?" Lord Adair requested.

Elizabeth discreetly pinched her mother's arm.

Lady Sedley reluctantly rang the bell.

While they waited for the coffee to arrive, Lord Adair began
a gentle flow of polite conversation dealing with the weather, the state of the
king's mental health and the latest cuts and styles of fashion that were
sweeping across France.

Encouraged by the ebb and flow of his calm, refined voice, propriety
dared to tiptoe back into the room.

The talk of lace, patterns and colours soothed heaving
feminine bosoms. Further mention of shoes and reticules acted as a balm upon
sore wounds.

Soon skirts were smoothed, snuff wiped away from upper lips
and adventurous locks tucked back into buns.

Lucy clasped her hands together. A large knot of unease had
started forming in her stomach. She often flew into a rage and did things only
to regret them a moment later.

She was regretting her outburst now.

If Lady Sedley truly threw her out of the house, she had
nowhere to go. The orphanage had done all they could for her … To now go back
as a failure … Her heart turned leaden.

The coffee arrived and Lucy grasped the warm cup gratefully.
A few sips of the bitter brew later, the tension in her shoulders reduced a tad
bit.

"She stole them," Lady Sedley spoke suddenly.
"Where are the jewels, girl?"

"It has to be her, Lord Adair. She is the only one who
left the house and had the time to dispose of them," Elizabeth added.

"Ian was in the village, too," Lord Adair
remarked.

Lady Sedley paled. Her eyes flew to Elizabeth.

"It wasn't Ian," Elizabeth said confidently.
"He would not be so foolish as to steal the jewels and then ask you of all
people to find the thief. Besides," she added belatedly, "why should
he steal from his own family? He could have asked for them."

Lucy snorted in disbelief, her quick temper once again
getting the better of her, "He did ask for them just like all of you did.
Lord Sedley refused to part with them. His family heirlooms, he calls
them."

"I told you she prowls and listens at doors," Lady
Sedley snapped angrily.

"Peter, what do you think?" Lord Adair asked
calmly.

The snuff box fell out of Peter's hand, and he stared at
Lord Adair in surprise. His pet, a fat baboon lounging on the back of his
chair, scratched his head comically reflecting Peter's confusion.

"I don't know .… Well, it could have been anyone."

Elizabeth snapped impatiently, "Oh, you won’t get an
answer out of him. He can't see beyond his frogs and rats. It has to be Lucy.
She is the only one who went to the village after the theft. None of the
servants have left the house since."

"How do you know what time the theft occurred?"
Lord Adair asked patting his pockets.

"We checked at six thirty this evening. The jewels were
missing and so was Lucy," Lady Sedley said. A moment later, she asked
impatiently, "My lord, did you hear me?"

"Hmm," he replied distractedly.

"Are you looking for something?" Elizabeth asked.

"It has to be here," Lord Adair muttered to
himself.

Lucy recalled the words of the blacksmith in the village.
'Mark my words, he is a loon.'

Peter offered Lord Adair some snuff.

He shook his head, his hands continuing to dip into numerous
hidden pockets in his thick velvet robe. He asked half-heartedly, "And
before that, when was the last time you laid eyes on the jewels?"

Lady Sedley frowned. "The box was kept in a safe in the
library, and I saw it yesterday at eight."

Lord Adair's hand paused in an act of upturning a lavender
silk sock. He slowly raised his head and fixed a penetrating eye on Lady
Sedley. "Therefore, anyone could have stolen it since eight last night.
And I am sure a lot more people have left the house in the last twenty-four
hours."

"But it has to be her … Who else—?"

Lord Adair politely but firmly cut her short. "What I
am failing to understand is how all of you can be so concerned about the
jewels."

"They were worth a fortune," Lady Sedley
protested.

Lord Adair leaned back in his seat. He had finally found
what he had been searching for, and he triumphantly pulled it out from his
front pocket.

It was a glittering silver quizzing glass dangling from a
long silver chain.

 He placed it on his left eye and peered at every face
in the room. "Yes, but surely Lord Sedley's death is more important? He
was murdered today at five in the evening, was he not, Lady Sedley?"

Silence reigned in the room after Lord Adair's announcement.

Elizabeth sat with her lips pursed as if sucking on a lemon,
Lady Sedley appeared to be doing figures in her head while Peter sat like a
calm cup of lukewarm tea.

Lord Adair rotated the quizzing glass in his hand over and
over again, his face devoid of expression, while his eyes caught every nervous
twitch, wriggle and squirm. His all-seeing gaze and the powerful magnetism
oozing out of his every pore further added to the tension in the air.

Lucy's eyes slid away from Lord Adair's face and landed on
the glinting quizzing glass orbiting around his long finger.

Countless women had posed on rooftops threatening to leap
off and plunge to their deaths all for the sake of a kiss from Lord Adair.

A hundred-man army had once walked away simply because Lord
Adair happened to stroll onto the scene.

Lucy did not think her common eyes deserved to look upon
such perfection. Hence, she kept her gaze pinned on the spinning quizzing
glass.

She wanted to forget her surroundings.

She wanted to pretend this was all a dream and that in a
moment from now she would wake up in her bed in the orphanage surrounded by a
dozen babbling young girls.

It takes a man several years of meditating on a snow-capped
mountain whilst unclothed to achieve the kind of single-minded focus that Lucy
was trying to achieve in a mere five minutes.

Needless to say, it wasn't long before she failed
hopelessly.

She failed to ignore the light of suspicion that was
continuing to beam down on her. She failed to ignore Lord Adair dripping charm
and sitting a mere foot away from her.

And most importantly, she failed to ignore the animals.

Animals that were Peter's pets, that should have ideally
stuck to Peter, sniffed Peter and, finally, only cuddled Peter.

But this world is not ideal. This world likes to throw
things at you that are the very opposite of ideal. And because that is the
unfortunate truth, the animals did not do what they should but meandered over
to poor, frightened Lucy.

Now, Lucy liked animals. She enjoyed looking at gulls
soaring in the sky, lady birds climbing up trellises or spotting a quivering
little rabbit nose in a bush. But things became uncertain when animals that
rightly belonged in the wild or with Peter decided to come and treat her as a
part of the furnishings.

 For instance, when everyone was wondering how Lord
Adair knew that Lord Sedley had been stabbed six times in the chest at around
five that evening, Lucy was frozen in place thinking about Peter's pet raven,
Spinoza, who was currently perched atop her bonnet.

Over the last month or so, Spinoza had increasingly chosen
her bonnet as his favourite daytime snoozing spot. She put it down to the fact
that her brown bonnet, which had been pretty at some point in the past, was now
akin to a nest with dried twigs, flowers and leaves.

But it wasn't just Spinoza's sharp beak a few inches above
her nose that was bothering her. She was also concerned about Palmer.

Palmer happened to be Peter's favourite pet. Palmer also
happened to be a baboon the size of a healthy child, with a long dark brown
face, funny little tail and his crowning glory, the red, almost-mauve bottom
whose sight always made her flush bright pink.

Palmer, the red-bottomed baboon, was known to approach
people he disliked and slap them in the face. He did that to the butler once.
Lucy had witnessed the whole thing. Hence, her wariness towards the animal that
had currently abandoned Peter's neck to come and nuzzle hers.

But not all the animals that had popped over to her side
were frightening. The two tiny pugs asleep on her lap were sweet, as was the
gentle old dog of mixed breed that was helping thaw her frozen toes by
stretching out his warm body over her pleased feet.

She stuck her hands under the pug’s bellies, and, now nicely
warmed from top to toe, she turned her attention towards the plate of dry
sandwiches lying on the table.

"How did you know about Father?" Elizabeth finally
spoke.

Lucy caught the tears in Elizabeth's voice. She wondered if
it was genuine. Lord Sedley was not loved by anyone in the family, and as far
as she knew, his death would benefit the family more than his living had.

Still, Lord Sedley had been Elizabeth's father, and however
much Elizabeth resembled a frozen icicle in figure and personality, a tiny warm
droplet must exist somewhere in the vicinity of her frozen heart.

"How did you know about the murder," Lady Sedley
repeated her daughter's question with a hint of awe in her voice.

"Ian told you," Peter said shortly.

Lord Adair tapped the cigar. The grey ash fell on the fawn
carpet. "He mentioned the theft that everyone is so concerned about but
not the murder."

"You even knew the approximate time he was
killed," Lady Sedley murmured in a hushed voice.

"How?” Elizabeth wondered aloud. "I met you at the
door along with the butler. You have not had a chance to speak to anyone else
but the three of us, and not once did we mention the fact." She fell
silent. A hint of fear moved across her face.

Lady Sedley gripped the arm of her chair, "It has not
even been three hours since the event." She took a long sniff of her
vinaigrette. "Your abilities are magical. No wonder England sings your
praises. I knew the moment you walked in, my lord, that there was something
supernatural about you. All those stories of your exploits where you slayed a
hundred pirates and all those corsets you unlaced with a single piercing look.
I confess, I doubted them, but now … I think I am going to swoon. It is too
much … too much …."

"Nothing of the sort. I met the doctor in the village.
He told me," Lord Adair said, poking the fire with a piece of wood.

A nervous giggle escaped Lady Sedley.

"The doctor told you?" Elizabeth asked, a
disbelieving note in her voice.

"He had invited me home. I happened to notice the
Sedley family crest on the bottom of a handsome silver teapot from which his
wife poured me a cup of tea. I remarked upon it and he blurted out the truth.
It seemed he, too, believes in my apparent magical abilities. Thus, I learned
of the murder and the silver tea set he had been presented with to keep the
whole thing quiet."

An uncomfortable silence fell after this. Lady Sedley busied
herself with the knitting, while Elizabeth chose to stare into the crackling
fire.

Lucy carefully sipped the coffee, trying not to disturb
Spinoza, who had nodded off on top of her bonnet. She had been shocked at the
news that Lord Sedley had died such a violent and sudden death, but she had
seen so many of her friends die of want and disease while growing up in the
orphanage that in some way her heart was well guarded and prepared for such
things in life.

She peeked at Lady Sedley. What bothered her more was the
calmness with which the family was treating the situation. To lose a husband or
a father … She bit her lip and took a long gulp from the cup.

She almost choked on the coffee when Elizabeth suddenly
leaped to her feet and pointed at Lucy. "She killed him. She killed him
for the jewels. Father kept the key to the safe on a chain around his neck, and
the only way anyone could have got it off him was by killing him. She killed
him, took the jewels and gave it to her accomplice in the village."

"I did no such thing," Lucy roared, startling
Spinoza, who squawked and flew away.

"Why did it take you hours to return to the house when
the village is a mere ten minute walk from here?" Lady Sedley snapped.

Lucy titled her chin up. "I went to the inn and after
that watched the balloon descend. By the time I was ready to leave, it was too
dark to walk back without a lamp, and it took me some time to cajole the
innkeeper to bring me here in his hay cart."

Elizabeth snorted.

"I am telling you the truth," Lucy said. "And
besides, if I had murdered Lord Sedley and stolen the jewels, then why, pray
tell, would I be sitting here like a blithering fool? I should be making my way
across the country as we speak."

"What I would like to know," Lord Adair
interrupted, "is why I wasn't told about the murder?"

Elizabeth quickly answered. "It is a family matter. We
didn’t want the whole village learning about the murder and then trying to
steal souvenirs from the house. You know how it has become a fashion for people
to steal and sell bits and pieces belonging to the victim. When Lady Herrington
was murdered a few miles north, people were selling her toe nails in our
village. Lord Herrington had thieves sneaking into his home up until the
funeral. Everything of hers was stolen from her soup bowl to her nose hair. She
was finally buried wearing Lord Herrington's best coat and her sister's
petticoat."

"We wanted to conduct the funeral in peace and then
announce it to the world," Lady Sedley added.

"I am hardly likely to steal Lord Sedley's
eyelashes," Lord Adair remarked.

Elizabeth's cup clattered loudly on the saucer, and Lady
Sedley twisted the tassels of the cushion.

After a moment, Lady Sedley said, "We are grieving. It
has all occurred so soon …."

Lord Adair became silent, his eyes searching the faces in
front him.

"The tears are on their way, are they?" he asked,
raising an eyebrow. "Boarded the carriage, luggage and all."

"Eh?" Lady Sedley asked blankly.

"You don't appear to be grieving," he clarified.

Lady Sedley stroked her green dress uncomfortably, "I
am going to wear black … The maid is ironing the dress for me as we
speak." She quickly turned to Lucy. "You, girl, pack your bags and
leave my home right this minute."

Lucy narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak Lord
Adair interrupted her.

"Miss Trotter is not going anywhere." He softened
his voice. "Until we discover the murderer, we cannot let her leave—or
anyone else for that matter."

"Truly, Lord Adair, this is a personal matter,"
Elizabeth started to say.

Lord Adair raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like
justice for your father?"

Elizabeth’s lips tightened.

"Will you stay with us until the murderer is
found?" Peter spoke up suddenly.

"I am sure he would prefer—"

"I would like that," Lord Adair said, cutting
Elizabeth short. "Thank you. It would make the investigation easier."

After that, an uneasy silence did a short dance around the
room.

Palmer, the baboon, started whacking a chair with a cushion.

Thump, thump, thump sounded in the air.

No one bothered stopping the animal's game.

Soon even the baboon gave up and went and curled on top of
Peter's shoulder. He looked bored. That is the baboon looked bored, while Peter
appeared to be dead.

"Well," Lady Sedley said, trying to be an
entertaining hostess. "Well, well."

"Yes, well," Elizabeth added just as dimly.

"Unusually cold," Lord Adair offered, "is it
not?"

"Awfully cold," Lady Sedley bobbed her head.

"Bitterly cold," Elizabeth said at the same time.

"I should go feed the animals," Peter told the
plate of dried sandwiches.

"You should." Lady Sedley pounced on the subject.
"He has a lot of animals, a whole orangery full."

Lord Adair stubbed out his cigar on a cherished vase.
"That reminds me. I hope my sudden arrival didn't disturb your
dinner."

"Why no, what with all the excitement, our dinner has
been delayed," Lady Sedley remarked.

Someone's stomach growled loudly in the room. Lucy feared it
was her own.

Lord Adair waited politely.

"Would you like to join us for a late supper?"
Elizabeth spoke over her mother.

"Please, I had a long journey. And I must tell you
about the balloon my good friend professor Bagwit loaned to me." He
suddenly paused and looked directly at Lucy, "You will be joining us for
the meal won't you, Miss Trotter?"

"She prefers to eat in her room," Lady Sedley told
him.

"I prefer no such thing," Lucy growled. "You
have chosen to believe so since the day I arrived. Sent me a measly tray—"

"Enough," Lady Sedley snapped. "Lord Adair,
don’t believe a word the ungrateful wretch says. I am feeling faint at the
wicked lies the girl is spouting."

"I am not lying," Lucy exclaimed.

"Please join us for dinner, Miss Trotter," Lord
Adair said. "And please don’t think of leaving this house until I say
so."

Lucy nodded, trying not to look too grateful that she wasn’t
being turned out this night. She watched as Lady Sedley bounded up to Lord
Adair and clutched his right arm. Elizabeth followed at a more sedate pace and
placed her claws just above his left elbow, a finger discreetly caressing his
silk robe.

Lord Adair, as if unaware of the two adoring females staring
up at him, said in a bored voice, "I must send for my valet. I cannot
spend a minute longer in this robe."

"Ian's robes might fit you, my lord. You are taller
than him, but if you do not mind revealing your ankles …?" Elizabeth
suggested.

Lord Adair sighed. "Miss Sedley, I would wear a sheet
fashioned into a toga if you allowed me. Anything but this robe. I have been
wearing it for the last two days."

Lucy caught him wrinkling his nose at the emerald silk just
before the three of them disappeared down the hallway.

She inched closer to the fire. She had not noticed Peter
leaving the morning room with the animals and was surprised to find herself
suddenly alone.

The sandwiches lay forgotten on the table. And the fire,
which had roared in Lord Adair's presence, was now flickering half-heartedly.

The full impact of what had occurred suddenly hit her.

Lord Sedley had been murdered.