Deadly Inheritance (49 page)

Ursula’s hot water was brought late by a maid she didn’t know.

‘I’m Annie, Miss.’ A cheerful, chubby girl with rounded cheeks like red apples put the jug on the washstand and gave a little bob. Wiry ginger hair stuck out from under her white mobcap. ‘Sarah’s waiting on Miss Seldon; the French one’s gone. None of us is sorry about that. Always looking down her nose at us she was. Still, to be sent off in the middle of the night! Jem took her to the station in the dog-cart, gone they were afore we were up. Oh, sorry, miss. I always lets my tongue run away, I do. Mrs Parsons says I’ll talk myself out of a job if I’m not careful. Is there anything more you need, miss? Only I need to clear out the downstair grates. Oh, and I was to say as how your mourning isn’t ready and for you to keep within the house.’

Ursula thanked Annie and sent her off to her duties. She had no intention of following the instruction not to venture outside Mountstanton without mourning dress. Her brown skirt was ruined yesterday but she had a dark grey linen one with a black braided matching jacket. That would have to do.

Downstairs she found Mr Jackman sitting in the hall. He looked as tired as she felt.

He rose as she came towards him. ‘Morning, Miss Grandison. You up to visiting the village after everything that happened last night?’

‘I am if you are, Mr Jackman. Did you sleep here last night?’

‘I was watching outside that Warburton fellow’s door. Had an idea he might try and scarper. Would have confirmed his guilt if he’d done that.’

Ursula realised that, with all the drama surrounding Belle, she had forgotten about Mr Warburton, confined to his room.

‘Colonel Stanhope said that, whatever he had done, he was a gentleman and once he’d given his word, he’d abide by it.’ He paused for a moment. ‘The Colonel’s an astute fellow but he don’t know nothing ‘bout chaps like that.’

‘Did Mr Warburton try to escape?’

Jackman laid a finger against his nose. ‘I goes into his room at three in the morning; wakes him from sleep. Three in the morning’s time to catch a man at his lowest. So I wakes him and I grills him, like I had him in my station.’ The investigator looked highly satisfied. ‘Got him so he didn’t know if he was coming or going.’

‘And did he confess?’ Ursula was fascinated as much by Jackman himself as by what admission he had wrung from the secretary. He showed all the tenacity of a terrier after a rat.

‘To seducing the young girl, Miss Seldon, yes. Said it was only the once.’

‘As though that counted for anything! Belle was an innocent young girl, not a mature woman of the world; he … he deflowered her.’ Ursula was incensed.

‘As to that, miss, said she weren’t a virgin; he wasn’t the first.’

That shook Ursula. If true, it could explain a lot about Belle and Mr Seldon’s desire for her to leave New York and visit England. But was it true? She put the question to one side for the moment.

‘And what about Polly, the nursemaid?’

‘As to that, he wouldn’t admit to ‘er. I think that was ‘cause he didn’t want to be accused of her murder. He denies killing either her or the maid at the Marquis’s.’

‘Do you believe him?’

Jackman looked defeated. ‘At three o’clock in the morning, miss, I reckon I had to. Anyways, after that, I got some sleep – and he’s still there in his room.’

‘Have you breakfasted?’

He nodded.

‘While I take mine, perhaps you might visit the stables and see what sort of vehicle they can provide for us this morning. I am afraid my ankle will not support a walk to Hinton Parva.’

He gave a half salute and disappeared.

* * *

Ursula emerged into the stable yard to see a small dog-cart harnessed up with a shaggy looking pony. She wondered if this was what had transported Belle’s French maid to the station.

It seemed the investigator knew the bones of what had happened with Belle last night and did not press Ursula for more detail. She found herself more and more comfortable with his company. The sun was bright, as though washed by the previous day’s rain. There seemed a fresh shine to the spring greens of the trees and hedgerows. Ursula tried to let the exuberance of the air lift her spirits.

‘So, Mr Jackman, will you visit Miss Ranner with me or do you hold to your view that I will do better on my own?’ she asked as they approached Hinton Parva.

‘On your own, miss, that’s the way forward. I’ll dig away with the other villagers; there has to be more information got from them than I’ve managed so far. And I’d better make sure my room at the inn hasn’t been given away.’

The comic way he raised his eyebrow convinced Ursula that he did not consider this a serious danger. She found a convenient place to tether the pony and cart and remembered Mr Seldon once saying, ‘A major convenience of a motor is that I can leave it without worrying it needs walking or feeding.’ She wondered if he would he be coming over for the Earl’s funeral?

Mr Jackman strode off in the direction of the village shop and Ursula found Miss Ranner’s little cottage.

Ellie opened the door to her. ‘Oh, miss!’ she said, her eyes wide.

‘Who is it?’ came Miss Ranner’s voice.

‘It be that American lady from the big house,’ Ellie called, still holding the door.

‘Show her in,’ said the gentle but firm voice.

Miss Ranner was sitting in her tiny living room with a visitor. The window was open, admitting a fragrant breeze.

‘Miss Grandison, how nice of you to call,’ said her hostess, advancing all of two steps to meet her. ‘Ellie, another cup for our guest. You will take tea with us, will you not?’

‘I shall be delighted,’ said Ursula smoothly. She hardly needed more liquid after her breakfast coffee but a refusal was impossible.

‘And have you met Mrs Sutton? Betty, dear, this is Miss Grandison, who has accompanied the Countess’s sister from America. Miss Grandison, Mrs Sutton is housekeeper to Lady Frances Russell. Oh, dear, I should say, was housekeeper. Poor Lady Frances has passed away.’

Ursula looked at the other visitor with interest. ‘I think I visited the village shop at the same time as you just after I arrived, Mrs Sutton. You were buying eggs for Lady Frances.’

The housekeeper was a spare woman with severely pulled back grey hair and sinewy hands, and Ursula remembered her clearly; remembered her concern to be served as quickly as possible so she could return to her mistress. ‘But I did not see you at the Dowager Countess’s birthday fête.’

The woman sniffed disparagingly. ‘I should think not, with Lady Frances so recently passed on. Not that I would have attended in any event. It was not my place. Judith, I will depart and leave you with your visitor.’

‘Oh, please, Mrs Sutton, do not let my unexpected arrival disturb your
tête-à-tête
with Miss Ranner.’

‘Can we not all sit down?’ the hostess pleaded, fluttering her hands towards the chairs.

Mrs Sutton hesitated for a long moment.

‘You know, Miss Grandison is Miss Seldon’s companion, she is not related to any of the Stanhopes,’ Miss Ranner said unexpectedly.

Ursula smiled beguilingly. ‘I would so like to talk to you, Mrs Sutton. I had such a pleasant conversation with Mr Russell at dinner shortly after I arrived, and I met with him only a few days ago; he was fishing.’

The woman sat down again, her fingers beating an uncomfortable tattoo on the chair arm. A seat was found for Ursula.

Ellie brought in a cup and saucer and Miss Ranner poured tea for Ursula.

‘Now we are all cosy,’ she said, handing it over.

Ursula smiled her thanks and returned her attention to Mrs Sutton. ‘You must forgive my curiosity, but as an American I find all these quaint customs involving hierarchy and someone’s place very interesting. I understood all the villagers were invited to the fête. Would that not include yourself, Mrs Sutton?’

Miss Ranner stirred as though about to intervene, but her friend held up her hand. ‘I am not a villager, Miss Grandison. But even if I was, I would not attend at Mountstanton. Their treatment of my poor mistress was not to be borne.’ She offered her cup for a refill with a righteous smile.

Ursula gazed at her expectantly. ‘Really?’ she said, sensing that the woman only needed an audience to say more. Miss Ranner made a small, deprecating noise.

‘Lady Frances was that pleased to be back here,’ Mrs Sutton said in a rush. ‘She said it was like coming home. And that was what it was, poor lady. What with her brother, the Viscount, only ten miles away and the parish where the Very Reverend Mr Russell had been officiating when they met almost next door. Then to meet with such discourtesy from Mountstanton!’

‘Discourtesy?’ Ursula could not help the sharpness in her voice. She quickly modulated it. ‘But, as I said, I met Mr Russell, Lady Frances’s son, at dinner there.’

Mrs Sutton sniffed. ‘Oh, he managed to inveigle himself in. The Earl, he would ask him over for a shoot. But no invitation for my mistress. She never said anything, mind,’ she added quickly, ‘but I could see how it preyed on her.’

‘I believe the Countess said she visited with Lady Frances, Mrs Sutton.’

Another sniff. ‘Oh, she came every now and then. But the old Countess, never. Then Mr Russell went to be a secretary, my lady said, to a most learned gentleman. She told me it was because it was in Oxford, where he went to college, so he could study books.’ She sniffed again. ‘I thought it better he should be with his mother, seeing as how she was poorly. And he did return.’ She thought for a moment. ‘He was different, even my lady said so. And,’ she looked surprised, ‘then he became bitter about the big house and its treatment of my lady.’

‘Tell me, Mrs Sutton, has Mr Russell left yet for America? He told me he intended visiting there after … that is, when his mother no longer needed him.’

Mrs Sutton finished her tea and set down the cup. ‘Oh, yes. He was off two days ago.’

Ursula drew a quick breath. ‘The day the Earl … had his accident?’

‘That would have been it. Not that he would have known about the accident, of course, having left already.’

‘Has he sailed then?’ Miss Ranner asked, as though eager to move the conversation away from the death of the Earl.

Mrs Sutton rose. ‘I don’t think so. He said he was calling in on a friend on the way to Liverpool, he meant to sell him his horse.’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘That horse! I think he loves it as much as he did his mama.’

‘I wanted to give him Mr Seldon’s details so he could contact him,’ said Urusla. ‘I am sure Mr Seldon would be interested in meeting him. Do you know his friend’s address?’

Mrs Sutton shook her head. ‘He mentioned Derbyshire but I don’t know more than that.’

‘How about the boat he was to sail on? If I wrote him a letter care of the shipping company in Liverpool, it might catch him. Mr Seldon could be of considerable help to him in New York,’ she added persuasively.

Mrs Sutton drew herself up proudly. ‘Showed me his ticket, he did. A passport he called it. “Here’s my passport to a brand new life. It’s all there waiting for me.” He was that excited. Made me recall when he was a student and off to Oxford for the first time.’

‘And do you remember the name of the boat on the ticket?’ Ursula asked.

‘Of course! Now, let me see. Something to do with royalty it was.
Majesty
? No, that wasn’t it.
Majestic
,
that was it; the SS
Majestic
,’ Mrs Sutton said with huge satisfaction. ‘I think he said it left in a week’s time. Now, I must take my leave. I can’t stay gossiping all morning, there’s the house to be cleared up. His lordship is to repossess it next week.’

Mrs Sutton took her leave and departed with an air of determination and self-importance.

‘Do sit down again, Miss Grandison,’ said Miss Ranner. ‘Let me pour you another cup of tea. I must explain that Mrs Sutton was uncommonly devoted to her mistress. Lady Frances was already indisposed when she and Mr Russell moved into their little house. I am sure that no insult was intended towards her by the Earl and Countess.’

Ursula was certain Miss Ranner was wrong there. The conversation with Mrs Sutton had been illuminating. She now had two different areas she needed to explore. Or were they, in fact, the same?

‘The accident to the Earl,’ her hostess continued, ‘has upset us all. It’s just that we show our concern in different ways.’

‘That is so true, Miss Ranner. Up at Mountstanton House everyone is in, well, I think turmoil best describes it.’

‘Oh, yes. They are all going to feel the Earl’s loss so keenly. That poor little Lord Harry. First he loses his nursemaid – he was so fond of Polly, Miss Grandison – and now his papa.’

Ursula seized the opening she had been offered. ‘Miss Ranner, it is about Polly that I have come.’

‘Really, Miss Grandison?’

‘I have to apologise for my presence. It is just as I have said; such turmoil up at the house. It seems to have fallen to me to follow up a piece of information that has emerged.’

Miss Ranner leaned forward, ‘Miss Grandison, you intrigue me. A piece of information, you say. May I be a party to it?’

‘You very kindly explained to me some little while ago how close you were to both Polly and her mother, Mary.’

Miss Ranner nodded.

‘And I think you are aware that the Stanhopes, well, the Colonel in particular, have not been happy with the verdict of the inquest into Polly’s death?’

Again Miss Ranner nodded, her pale blue eyes now gazing intently at Ursula.

‘In fact, the Colonel has enlisted the help of an investigator to see if we – he – can establish the exact cause of Polly’s demise.’

‘An investigator? Is that the London man who has been asking all those questions? Most think he’s been up to no good!’

‘It’s always difficult to have a stranger arrive in your midst, especially when they are seeking information,’ Ursula said soothingly. ‘Now, at the inquest, I think Mrs Parsons misinterpreted a glimpse she had had of Polly with Mr Gray in the wood.’

Miss Ranner fluttered her hands. ‘If only she had spoken to me. I could have put her straight. There’s been nothing like that between Polly and Mr Gray.’