The Keeper of Secrets (20 page)

All too clearly, Elham did not comprehend – but it was the concept, not the words that defeated him. ‘Marry a skivvy? As soon marry Haymarket ware.’

‘But you begat a child upon her,’ Sir Hellman reminded him sternly.

‘What if I did?’

‘Were you proud of that? Or were you afraid of what people might say? Tell me, Lord Elham, because she had become an inconvenience, did you kill Elizabeth Woodman?’ 

‘Lizzie dead? Lizzie dead? No, no, no!’

Although I confess to wishing otherwise, Lord Elham’s shock sounded as genuine as Jem’s or mine, and no less
grief-stricken
.

‘Alas, Lord Elham, she is,’ Sir Hellman insisted sternly. ‘Lizzie Woodman has been foully murdered.’

‘Who by? Pray, sir, pray, what are you saying? Dr Hansard, what is he saying?’ He clutched frantically at the doctor’s hand.

Hansard said, with surprising gentleness, ‘Sir Hellman tells the truth, my lord, and sorry I am that he does. That is why we are here today. We came to tell you.’

‘But who should want to kill her? Pretty Lizzie?’ And then, as the horrid truth penetrated deeper into his fuddled brain, he burst into tears. Sir Hellman, revolted, took a step back. I, mindful of my own distress when I had found the sad remains, forced myself to kneel before him, praying that God would give me strength to love him as I ought.

‘Lord Elham, I know we have never been friends, but may I offer you any consolation within my power? Is there a chapel here, where we may pray together?’ I reached for his hand.

He leant towards me. Heavens be praised! He was going to accept my offer! There was hope yet for his sanity.

He spat, full in my face. And for good measure kicked me between the legs, so that I rolled backwards, crying out as much for the indignity as the pain, which was, in truth, considerable.

Sir Hellman rapped on the door. ‘Attendants!’

Clearly Edmund was exasperated by this high-handed behaviour, but, as he saw my continuing acute discomfort, accepted that this must be the end of our conversation, at least for the time being. He helped me to my feet.

Dr Brighouse entered as Elham was dragged away. ‘I will thank you, gentlemen, to leave immediately. I cannot have my patient distressed in this way.’

Hansard looked at him coolly. ‘Dr Brighouse,
I
cannot have
my
patient distressed in this way. You will prepare him improved accommodation forthwith. When I have seen him installed there, and when you have furnished me with a complete list of the medicines you prescribe and the diet he follows, then we will depart. And not until then. Meanwhile you will not lock us in this room or any other. Do I make myself clear?’

Brighouse blustered.

I stepped forward, suddenly every inch my father’s son. ‘I do not perceive any reason for argument. Do as you are bidden.’ Later Edmund would tease me about this sudden hauteur. For the time being I dare swear he was glad of it.

Brighouse turned on his heel.

Within fifteen minutes a truculent but mercifully silent Mrs Brighouse presented herself at the door. Indicating with a jerk of her head that we were to follow her, she set off along the corridor where we had first encountered her. Arms akimbo, she stood outside a door but made no effort to unlock it. Nothing loath, Hansard lifted the inspection flap and peered in. He nodded with some satisfaction, but did not suggest that we looked too.

‘Good. All that remains is to see what regime he is subject to and we can depart.’

Still in silence, she led us back to the book room where we had started our visit. Her husband was seated at his desk. Taking a sheaf of paper from a drawer, he flung it on the desk. One or two leaves fluttered to the carpet. Turning, I caught Mrs Brighouse’s eye and looked downwards. She bent and scrabbled them together, placing them in my outstretched hand with a bob of a curtsy. My father would hardly have acknowledged that sort of service from a menial, simply because he was unconscious that it was a service. However I might differ in attitude these days, quite deliberately I did mimicked my father again.

There was silence as Dr Hansard scanned the notes. At last he announced, ‘You will start reducing the laudanum tomorrow. Not by much – he is already far too habituated – but by a tenth. And by a further tenth in three days’ time, and so on. As for food, you may continue with this lowering diet, with the addition of a little soup for supper, but he will take no alcohol whatsoever. I shall return shortly to see that my instructions are being carried out. And,’ he smiled, ‘any attempt to exclude me or either of my colleagues will be met
with the full force of the law. And now you may have our carriage brought round.’

We were all too full of diverse emotions to wish for much conversation. Travelling with my back to the horses, I contrived to look out of the window, praying, as the countryside unfolded, that the Almighty have mercy upon all the participants in the tragedy of Lizzie’s death. It was borne in upon me that others too were in need of his succour, such as the haggard-looking men we saw trudging along the roadside, hoping, no doubt, for employment in the city.

Reluctant to sit down in our dirt with Sir Hellman, we pleaded a previous dinner engagement. Had he known it was with a groom and a valet, he might not have accepted our apologies quite so graciously, but he engaged us to dine the following evening, so that we could apprise him of any further developments.

The evening having turned suddenly chill after the glorious daytime sunshine, Turner had lit a fire in our parlour, and was mixing a bowl of punch. Jem, resplendent in a new waistcoat, insisted on waiting on us once more, but until we had all partaken of a cup of punch we refused to summon the servants bearing the first course.

‘For there is news you must hear, Jem,’ Hansard declared. ‘First of all, however, a toast. To justice!’

We joined in the toast with a will, but without joy.

‘Lord Elham innocent! Never!’ Crushing his napkin, Jem threw it on the table and made to rise to his feet.

‘On the basis of what we saw this afternoon, Jem, it is true
that no jury would find him guilty,’ Dr Hansard said gravely. ‘My only hope is that when he is less befuddled by laudanum and goodness knows what else is in the patent medicines with which Dr Brighouse has quacked him he will recall events he has all too obviously forgotten and be prepared to confess. But even if he does, it would be hard to prove – given that the Brighouse register affirms that he was on those premises at around the time we now believe Lizzie to have been done to death, that is, in late November or early December. He had no forewarning of our visit and thus no reason to change his records. And there was no sign of them having been changed, either.’

‘But what if Lizzie didn’t die before the snow?’ Jem pleaded. ‘What if she died only a week or so before…before Toby found her?’

‘Again, Brighouse’s records attest to Elham’s having been in his custody.’

‘They must be wrong! Must be!’

Hansard relented. ‘We shall certainly have to look at them again. But we must also speak to Lady Templemead and, if possible, to any of Lady Elham’s servants left in her employ – singularly few, I may say.’

‘And, according to Mr King, so many departed to places where questioning them would be well nigh
im
possible,’ I added. I sank my face into my hands, ready to despair.

‘Might one deduce, gentlemen,’ Turner began, awaiting only Dr Hansard’s nod before ringing for the servants to clear the first and bring in the second course, ‘that speaking to Lady Templemead herself might prove easier? Very good, sir.’ He pulled the bell.

‘First find her ladyship,’ I growled, with bad temper ill-becoming a man of the cloth.

‘As a matter of fact, we may have done,’ Turner said, prim as ever, but with something like a wink at Jem, who responded with a glimmer of a smile. ‘We did not like to be idle, while you two gentlemen were careering about the countryside.’

‘But—’ In vain to point out that they had been given the day off; Jem would be at least as desirous of ending the mystery as I, and had every right to spend his time as he wished. I overrode my own objection. ‘What did you discover?’

We were interrupted, however, by the arrival of the servants, bringing in a brace of duck, a râgout à la Francaise, a plate of macaroni and some cauliflowers. Turner received the dishes, laying them conveniently about the table, before dismissing the servants with a nod.

Assured that we were all content, he answered my question. ‘We discovered where Lady Templemead is staying. It is, of course, servants’ hall gossip, that we obtained by carrying the basket of a kitchen maid sent to buy vegetables,’ he added, parenthetically. ‘Her ladyship’s husband owns an estate near Bristol. He is not one of the
ton
, by any means, sir. A
self-made
man. Lady Templemead’s father was more than happy with the marriage settlement, however, since it paid off his considerable debts. Sir Thomas is a great Bristol merchant, a veritable nabob, who has, according to our informant, made his fortune in the West Indies and retired home to enjoy it. Unfortunately he has the reputation for being a stickler, far higher in the instep than his birth warrants.’

‘So a simple morning call would hardly be eligible,’ I mused.

‘A letter of introduction would be required,’ Turner confirmed.

‘Which we do not have. I suppose that, failing all else, as a justice of the peace, Hansard, you could simply demand to speak to her,’ I said.

‘And how cooperative would that make the lady? No, we need a mutual acquaintance, Tobias.’

Jem, never at his most comfortable at our informal gatherings, though he would not have held back had we been having this discussion in a stable yard, coughed. ‘The gentleman you were with today, Toby, may well know Sir Thomas. After all, he was a merchant too – at least, his father was.’

Hansard nodded. ‘I would rather not have been indebted once again to Sir Hellman. Though his generosity in sparing his time and indeed his carriage were inestimable, there were times when I found his temper too hasty. If we are discussing delicate matters with ladies, then tact is vital.’

He pushed himself from the table and took a turn about the room.

I permitted myself a glance at my watch. ‘There is one man who might possibly oblige, and this evening too. But we are not dressed to see him. Mr King,’ I explained.

Never had two gentlemen transformed themselves so quickly. Turner had worked wonders, and, despite our protestations that we could walk, Jem had secured the services of two
chairmen
.

When we arrived at the Upper Rooms, it was clear that Mr King already had the proceedings well in hand. Chaperons
had no need to worry that their protégées would languish unnoticed when Mr King had the business of introductions in hand. The ballroom was aswirl with colour and gaiety when we arrived, and Mr King was looking, as well he might, content with his evening’s work. He was happy to oblige us in our request; we were equally happy to twirl around the floor while we waited for the note of introduction.

It was agreed that, armed with Mr King’s letter, the four of us should set out betimes the following morning. Strictly, Turner was a supernumerary, but we were persuaded that to leave him at the hotel when the rest of us were abroad would have been cruelty itself. With all his sober ways, it was easy to forget that the man was but ten years older than I, and I knew my feelings had I been similarly placed. Kitted out in a borrowed cape, he insisted on sitting outside, blowing the yard of tin at Jem’s behest, Jem driving Dr Hansard’s carriage.

If Sir Hellman’s abode was opulent, Sir Thomas’s was little short of palatial, a veritable Gloucestershire Chatsworth. It could have been little more than thirty years old, blending elegance and solidity with beautifully landscaped grounds coming into their full maturity.

‘All built on slavery,’ Hansard muttered.

I must express my horror. ‘Indeed?’

‘How else would a Bristol merchant make this much money? When everyone else is making money the same way, moral stances are very difficult, Tobias. My Indian fortune was modest by many men’s standards, and to the best of my knowledge not a penny came from dishonest or immoral sources, but there is a part of my conscience that is glad I lost
the greater part. At least now I have the satisfaction of knowing that every penny coming into my coffers is entirely untainted.

‘Now,’ he continued, as Jem tooled us to the huge portico sheltering the front door, ‘recall that we are here simply to enquire about Lady Elham’s whereabouts, bearers as we are of news of a family misfortune. Only when we have Lady Templemead’s trust do we speak of Lizzie and why she may have left Lady Templemead’s employment.’

I nodded. ‘I will become the very pattern-card of an unctuous clergyman.’

How I wished that I had the benefit of my mother’s interest in, and knowledge of, all the families of the
ton
. She would have known all about Lady Templemead, from her antecedents to her alliances, her strengths to her Achilles heel.

A very superior butler, clearly disdainful of our provincial addresses, informed us that Lady Templemead was not at home. On my addressing him as coldly as my father would have done, however, he condescended to accept on a salver Mr King’s letter of introduction, and to show us into the library.

This was a room of such exquisite proportion that I declare I could have waited all day for a response, especially when I saw that the quality of the volumes on the shelves lining every wall matched that of the furniture and the silk carpets. Here were all the great classical authors, learned histories, volumes of poetry and what looked like a First Folio of Shakespeare’s plays. Dr Hansard, meanwhile, was enthralled by the tomes on the history of India.

The pretty clock on the marble mantelpiece announced that
we had waited a full hour before the double doors at the far end opened, the butler bowing deeply before a lady of Mrs Beckles’ age but with none of the warmth of that lady’s expression that always suggested that the very sight of you had improved her day. Rather Lady Templemead, if it was she, had made such a habit of disdaining her acquaintance that her face was now set in a sneer. Clearly even our best Bath finery did not impress her. Why should it indeed? She was as elegant a lady as I had ever seen, her dress silk, her hair dressed in the latest mode and covered with the tiniest wisp of a cap. She provided two fingers for us to make our bows over.