A Death for King and Country (3 page)

Chapter Four

In which things become even more like a dream
– and not a very nice one at that

At this point the young man, who hadn’t seen fit to give me a name, not even a false one, reached down beside his chair and picked up a small attaché case. He held it out to me, forcing me to come and take it from him. As I took it, he held on for a moment. ‘Are you accepting the duty to be Fitzroy’s executor?’ he asked.

I hesitated. A last wish is, to me, a very serious thing. ‘What does it entail?’ I asked.

‘I have no idea. Fitzroy kept his other life very private.’

‘But Mr Edward …’ I said, thinking of the one man I knew he had worked alongside.

The young man shook his head.

‘Whatever is in his will, he made it clear he wanted you specifically to deal with it, so I assume it must be within your capabilities if that is what is making you hesitate. He would hardly ask a civilian to do anything serious.’

I shrugged off the insult and retreated with the case. I slid the catches open and took out a small envelope. The seal had already been broken. My eyebrows rose.

The young man waved his arm about in a dismissive fashion. ‘That’s just the letter naming you. Everything else inside is all still sealed and intact.’

I was confident Fitzroy could have worked his way around any seal, but something about the eager anticipation in my visitor’s manner suggested he did not know the contents of the will and thoroughly wished to.

Inside the case was one large packet. It was about the width and breadth of a folio case and a couple of inches thick. Pressing it between my fingers I concluded it contained only papers. A lot of papers. The packet itself was wrapped in sealed brown paper, and further wrapped with string, with a number of wax seals affixed.

On the front in large cursive script was my real name. I had no idea if it was Fitzroy’s hand as I had never seen it, but it was elegant and yet precise, which reminded me of him. It was certainly secure. It seemed Fitzroy had intended to send a severe message that it was not to be opened by anyone but me.

‘And if I hadn’t accepted?’ I asked.

‘It was all to be burned unopened. He specified that too.’

I placed the package back inside the case and pushed the catches back into place. I rose.

‘Well, my thanks for delivering this to me. I will ring for Stone to show you out.’

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

‘I am. But not in your presence. It seems Mr Fitzroy went to a lot of effort to ensure that the contents were for my eyes only, and I intend to keep them that way.’

The young man got to his feet, tugging down the sides of his jacket in an ill-concealed display of irritation.

‘I can find my own way out.’

‘Considering your areas of expertise, I’m sure you will not mind if I get our butler to ensure you leave the premises.’

The young man seemed caught between flattery and feeling insulted. He struggled with his expression for a few moments and then gave a bark of laughter.

‘Fair enough.’

I watched Stone escort him to his small automobile from the window. I had a good view of the drive, and I waited until he had driven out of sight. Then I waited a little longer just to be certain.

Hans was still waiting for me in the breakfast chamber, so I hurried to my room and placed the package on my dressing table. Before I left the room I checked the window was bolted shut. I didn’t think he would return, but with those sorts of people one could never be sure.

Of course I would dearly have liked to open the packet and reveal the contents, but I had already been away too long. As it was I had to think up a believable story about my visitor. At the moment I could only think of throwing Stone’s reputation to the wind and saying it was indeed a tradesman trying his luck. But then I remembered Rory, who had once been butler at Stapleford Hall, telling me that it wasn’t by their tailoring that he knew the upper classes from the simply rich, but by their pocket watches and above all their shoes. It would grossly unfair of me to blame Stone.

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Hans, looking up as I re-entered the breakfast room. ‘I was all set to seek you out, but Richenda assured me you are more than equal to dealing with one gentleman.’

Richenda had indeed joined the table. She did not look well. There were bags under her eyes and her skin was sallow. She looked very, very tired, which as all women know is one of the worst looks to wear.

‘Where is Amy?’ I asked.

‘She has gone back to sleep,’ said Richenda. ‘So I thought I would try to take a little breakfast.’

I slid back into my seat and signalled to Stone to bring me fresh coffee. I could see Hans beginning to bridle, so I cut in quickly before he could speak. ‘Richenda, I don’t think this situation can continue.’

Richenda’s nostrils flared and her face took on a rosy hue. Now I had to cut her off quickly before she went into a tantrum. These are, since her marriage, happily rare, but always bad and one at breakfast can destroy the whole day. I said what I thought would be most likely to take the wind from her sails.

‘I do not think it is fair to Amy.’

Only her finishing school training and the fact her mouth was full stopped Richenda’s jaw from dropping. Hans watched me hopefully. He knew I had to make this good. I used an old trick of Fitzroy’s of sandwiching bad news between good.

‘I do not believe Amy could have a more devoted mother than yourself, Richenda. However, the child is still clearly troubled and she is exhausting you. Do you not think that to give her the best chance of a full and happy recovery we should arrange for her to both see some other children and to undertake as normal a routine as possible? Hans has offered you some new staff, and carefully selected they could perhaps make all the difference. Or perhaps you could invite Bertram to stay, and ask him to bring Merry?’

Hans’ eyes lit up.

Richenda finished her mouthful slowly.

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘I have no problem being by Amy’s side day and night, but it is some weeks now and I feel I have made no real progress.’

‘There is nothing more you could possibly have done,’ I said quickly. I did not for a moment misjudge her intentions and I wanted her to know this. ‘Naturally the child must grieve, but being as young as she is she has the capacity to bounce back.’

‘Instead of insisting you dance attendance on her,’ said Hans darkly. It took much restraint on my part not to kick him under the table. I glowered instead and he gave me a puzzled look. Men can be so idiotic at times. The only way to reach Richenda was through her concern for her new obsession.

Richenda scowled at her husband, but concern for her new daughter won out.

‘She has such terrible nightmares.’

‘Of course she does,’ I said. ‘I cannot bear to imagine what she has endured, but I feel strongly that new, happy memories will overwrite the old ones, and that is what should be the focus now.’

To my delight Richenda nodded. ‘You really are un-femininely intelligent, Euphemia,’ she said with a smile. ‘I admit I could do with some help.’ Hans practically quivered with hope, but had the sense to keep his mouth shut this time. ‘Perhaps you?’ she said.

‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘Merry would be infinitely better at this than me.’

‘She wouldn’t come without Merrit,’ said Richenda.

‘But that’s the point,’ I said excitedly. ‘Merry is still working at Stapleford Hall. Bertram has gone back to White Orchards and taken Merrit with him. She hasn’t seen him for weeks.’ Merrit was Bertram’s chauffeur, but both he and Merrit were often to be found at Bertram’s family home, Stapleford Hall, as his own estate, White Orchards, regularly suffered one building calamity after another.

‘Besides,’ I said in an attempt to clinch it, ‘isn’t it time Bertram paid you a bride visit? He has yet to give you your wedding present, after all!’

‘Oh, all right,’ said Richenda. ‘Don’t think I don’t realise you two have cooked this up between you. I’m going upstairs to have a rest before Amy wakes again. Euphemia may arrange all the details.’

‘I will write the letters this morning,’ I promised.

When she had gone Hans applauded me. ‘Bravo, Euphemia! If there is anything I can do for you?’

He said this with a big smile plastered on his face, secure in the expectation that as ever I would ask for nothing.

‘Actually,’ I said, ‘there might just be something. Family concerns mean I may require some time away from Richenda’s side. I would be grateful if you could smooth that matter for me.’

Hans looked at me as if I had stuck my fork in his hand. ‘That’s why you wanted Merry here!’ he said. ‘You have become positively devious, Euphemia.’

‘I prefer diplomatic,’ I said with a smile. ‘It’s the company I’ve been keeping.’

Hans bowed his head, acknowledging defeat.

Chapter Five

In which the dead talk to me, and prove to have
an uncomfortable sense of humour

Of course, I had first to make good my promises and write the wretched letters, one to Bertram inviting him to visit and one to the housekeeper at Stapleford Hall, Mrs Lewis, who I knew would be the person to approach, regarding Merry. Lord Richard Stapleford, Richenda’s twin, would have denied me simply out of spite, but with his time now split between his new estate of Peterfield and his time as an MP, he would in all likelihood have no idea where Merry was.

Mrs Lewis, a very fair woman, could arrange it easily. I knew she had the best interests of her staff at heart and while she had said she would train Merry up as a housekeeper, should she get the chance to move to the Mullers’ growing household her prospects would be much improved. I proposed a loan in the first place and should the Mullers require her for more extended service I suggested Hans should make the approach to Sir Richard.

I summoned Stone and handed him my two letters, asking that they went post-haste. I had taken great care over the one to Mrs Lewis, but I fear Bertram was receiving no more than a scrawled note. My impatience to open Fitzroy’s packet was so great my skin positively itched!

Hans, I knew, as he was spending time at home rather than at work in the city, would have headed down to the stables to speak with his factor and go over estate matters. He was a most dutiful master. Richenda was asleep. I had the rest of the morning to myself. I resisted the urge to run, but made my way upstairs as calmly as I could. I collected the package and took it through to the little boudoir-cum-study Hans had insisted on allotting me once it was clear I would be living at the estate long term.

‘Everyone needs their private space,’ he had urged, and indeed over time I had found it most restful to have my own retreat. I put the packet down on the table. It lay there unmoving. Now I had the opportunity to open it I found myself strangely reluctant. So I did what the English do in all times of confusion and ordered more tea.

Sipping my tea and lemon, I considered my reluctance. In part I ascribed it to a certain sadness that a seemingly invincible adventurer such as Fitzroy was gone, but my greater fear was what I would be asked to do. There was now no hope of declining whatever lay within the bounds of that sealed parcel. Fitzroy had displayed, on occasion, a certain dark sense of humour. He had certainly enjoyed teasing me. I had no little concern for what he might request.

Taking a small, but sharp letter opener I cut the strings and broke the seals. Inside were four large packets, each addressed to me by my pseudonym of Miss St John. They were numbered clearly one to four.

First things first. I burned the outer paper that displayed by real name in the grate. Then I turned my attention to the packets. Really, each was no more than a large letter. On the labelled one Fitzroy had written, ‘On your honour, Euphemia, of which you have more than most gentlemen, I request you open these letters in order and that the next one is never opened until the tasks of the former are completed.’

I felt a little buzz of excitement. Was this some kind of strange treasure hunt? Fitzroy, I knew instinctively, would have no gold to offer, but that which he deemed far more important: Information.

With a shaking hand I slit open the first envelope and took out two sheets of paper. They were closely, but neatly, written.

My very dear Euphemia,

It appears I am dead. I have to say I am quite annoyed at this prospect, but please rest assured that any revenge I may hope to seek on whatever, or more likely whoever, caused my demise, I would not lay at your door.

Instead I must beg some favours that you tidy the scrambled life I have left behind. Although I believe only one of the tasks I must ask you to undertake presents any slight danger, the others will not be easy to achieve. I have therefore left what payment I can; not in money, but in information that I hope will prove useful and illuminating to you.
[5]

On completion of each task you may open the next envelope and within that you will find your reward, such as it is.

Now, I am fully aware you could open all these papers at once and read whatever I have written for you. I also know that you are aware that is the kind of thing an unscrupulous person such as myself might do, but I have always been aware you were a much better person than I. Flattery, I hope, will get me everywhere. It certainly has been most useful in my former life. (How very strange to write former.)

I am sure you are wondering why I have chosen you. There are many reasons, but firstly, as I have indicated, I know you are burdened by both honesty and honour. Secondly, you have a remarkable mind, and if you had been born a man I am sure you would have achieved great things. For all I know you may still do so, but the hindrance of being born a woman is one I, unlike most men, do acknowledge. And thirdly, though by no means lastly in my mind, is that fact that you, like me, have chosen to lead a life that is divided into compartments. You must be many things to many people, and no one other than yourself knows the full truth. People who can do this are rare. And that you chose to do this is rarer still. If you question why I did not choose one of my fellows in my department I refer you to my first reason for choosing you.

I also, despite my training, confess to some affection for you. But have no fear, this will not descend into some mawkish love letter. If King and Country had required me to shorten your life I would have done so without hesitation, although with some regret. This is a significant admission for me, for in general I do not think much of my fellow men – or women. Perhaps what I enjoyed so much about you was you were always something of a puzzle. As I am too.

But that must suffice for our farewells. Here is your first task …

I read the task through three times. By the time I had begun my fourth reading my heart had slowed to a near normal rate. I could do this. It was not a dangerous task. It was certainly something I would not feel comfortable doing, and it would involve a great deal of lying on my part. The biggest stumbling block that I could see was that there was no way I could achieve this without Bertram’s help, and yet within the task Fitzroy explicitly asked me to tell no one else of this adventure.

Convincing Hans and Richenda to allow me some time away from the house now seemed like child’s play considering what I now needed to plan.