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Authors: Janet Laurence

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BOOK: Deadly Inheritance
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‘It had to be. We all knew Mr Jackman and Miss Grandison had gone up to Liverpool to interview him. Who else’s could it have been?’

What was it the Dowager had said, that the servants always knew everything?

‘Can we trust you not to let anyone else know?’ the Colonel said.

John looked injured. ‘I’ve kept his lordship’s secret for six years, I’m not going to let anything out now.’

‘Good man.’

Helen looked incredulous. ‘You will have to go, you know that, don’t you, John?’

He turned to her and said, gently, ‘I shall be handing in my notice and buying that ticket for America.’

John gave them a small bow, turned and left the room.

The Colonel sighed and flung himself into a chair.

‘So that’s what Richard meant by “be himself”,’ Helen said, sounding disgusted. ‘No wonder he didn’t want to tell me everything.’

‘What would you have done if he had?’ the Colonel asked quietly.

‘Left him, of course. I wouldn’t have divorced him; the scandal wouldn’t have done Harry – or me – any good. But at least I wouldn’t have had to look at him, knowing what we’ve just been told.’ The contempt in her voice was devastating.

The Colonel looked sad. ‘I wish he’d confided in me. I’d have helped him work something out.’

‘Maybe if you had been here,’ Helen said viciously, ‘he would have done.’

Ursula looked from one to the other of them. The air seemed to vibrate with shock, horror, despair.

After a few moments the Colonel stirred and said, ‘What the hell do we do now?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Charles. It’s obvious, isn’t it? We don’t do anything. Unless,’ Helen’s eyes narrowed, ‘unless you are after the title? Let me warn you that, if you are, I’ll fight you every step of the way. You won’t make much of a figure in the witness box trying to fling mud at your brother and sister-in-law and turning your nephew into a bastard. He was born in wedlock, let me remind you.’

The Colonel rose and looked at her, stunned. ‘Helen, I will assume that everything you have been through over the last week has addled your brains. Of course I’m not after the title. The last thing I want is to be Earl of Mountstanton.’

There weren’t many men, Ursula thought, who could make that statement sound sincere but the Colonel was one of them.

Helen stood up. ‘Then what is there to discuss? You have a funeral already arranged for your brother. You have his dead body. No doubt you can think of some way to switch the coffins. Though why it should matter which one of them lies in the family mausoleum is beyond me. You are the only one who has been pursuing the truth of how Polly died; officialdom has signed off on her. I assume you can pay off your bloody investigator. I am sure Ursula, sensible and confidential Ursula, will keep her mouth shut.’

‘I always have,’ Ursula said, rising from her chair. ‘But there is one thing I have to tell you. Your husband’s last words were, “Helen, forgive me”.’

Helen stood still, then said very quietly, ‘Thank you, Ursula.’ Tears started to well up in her eyes. ‘I must go and see how Belle is,’ she said and walked swiftly from the room.

Ursula felt drained. She looked at the Colonel.

‘I must go and nail down that coffin properly,’ he said, picking up the hammer he’d put on the mantleshelf. ‘I hope Max’s uncle, the Viscount Broome, will not cause us difficulties. Something he said last time we met suggested Max was an embarrassment to him, especially over the last few years.’

‘But for his death to be put down as suicide?’

‘Instead of him being branded blackmailer?’ The Colonel sighed deeply. ‘And there’s Helen’s reputation to be protected, if only for Harry’s sake. I foresee a difficult meeting with the viscount. I need to have a word with Jackman. Heavens, I promised to take his report tonight.’

‘I don’t suppose he will mind if it is postponed until tomorrow. Would you like me to find him and tell him?’

He looked at her gratefully. ‘Once again, Miss Grandison, you come to my rescue.’ He turned at the door. ‘I tell you, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll see to it that it isn’t Russell’s remains that lie in the Mountstanton mausoleum.’

Ursula watched him leave the room. Then she sat down again and emptied her glass of brandy. There seemed nothing left for her at Mountstanton and, in truth, it was not a place she wanted to spend any more time in.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ursula found Thomas Jackman in the Smoking Room, his feet up on a low table, puffing a large cigar, a glass of whisky at his side. He looked thoroughly content.

‘Mr Benson gave me the freedom of his lordship’s humidor and provided me with the whisky decanter,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘How have you been doing, Miss Grandison? Have you come with a summons from the Colonel or can you join me for a few moments?’

She sat down and wondered if it was the brandy that made her feel so disconnected from reality. What, after all, was real about Mountstanton? So much of what Helen had told them she had already surmised, yet to hear it spelt out in that way made living in the rough and ready world of a Californian mining community seem a haven of sanity.

‘I’m afraid the Colonel has got tied up, Mr Jackman. He asks if he can meet with you tomorrow instead of tonight.’

‘Suits me.’ The investigator settled down into his chair again and raised the cigar. ‘Fine smoke, this. Cuban.’ He waved it in the direction of a side table. ‘Only thing is, that needs to be taken proper care of. Thought it should be put into the Colonel’s care.’

Sitting on the table was a commodious carpet bag.

‘Ah,’ said Ursula. ‘Was that Mr Russell’s?’

Thomas Jackman nodded. ‘The White Star Line officials were not too happy for me to take either it or the body. But, as I said, what were they to do with them if I didn’t? Russell hadn’t been arrested; neither they nor the harbour police had authority in the matter. Whereas I had the Colonel’s authorisation and the backing of the Met’s Chief Constable. They soon realised I could remove a nasty piece of nuisance.’

‘How sensible you were to approach the Chief Constable before going up to Liverpool, Mr Jackman.’

‘That was Colonel Stanhope’s suggestion and it was his letter that swung it for us.’

Ursula was not surprised. She looked towards the carpet bag. ‘Have you checked the contents?’

‘One of the officials insisted we did that. Said he didn’t want any complaints from the deceased’s next of kin.’

Ursula remembered what the Colonel had said about the viscount.

‘Anybody else know what’s in there?’ Mr Jackman asked, sounding slightly inebriated. ‘Or can we abscond with the takings?’

Ursula laughed. ‘Remove the dust of Mountstanton from our feet and, what, see the world?’

‘There’s an awful lot of world to see.’

‘Is it really a lot of money?’

‘It’s bearer bonds, not quite ready money but they’re accepted by any bank, no questions asked. There’s enough to make us both very, very wealthy.’

‘If only we were that sort of people.’

‘People like Maximilian Russell?’

‘Yes, Mr Jackman, people like Maximilian Russell.’

‘Well, the fact that you obviously know about their existence must mean there’s others as do. So, goodbye the world.’

‘Goodbye the world,’ she repeated gravely.

‘Can I offer you a whisky instead?’

She shook her head and rose. ‘I’ve already had a brandy, thank you. I think I need to retire.’

He stood up, put down his cigar and held out his hand. ‘Miss Grandison, may I thank you for your help over the last week or so? And may I say that you have a real talent for this work.’

‘What work?’

‘Why, the work of detection. I’d be proud to have you at my side any time.’

‘Mr Jackman, you do me too much honour. I don’t feel I have done very much at all.’

‘You can let me be the judge of that. Thank you, Miss Grandison.’

Ursula shook his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Jackman. I can’t say it’s been an enjoyable experience; I’ve been too emotionally involved, but I have admired your approach and ability.’

He gave a little bow. ‘Any time, Miss Grandison.’

* * *

Over the next few days, Ursula spent most of her time sitting with Belle. She didn’t attend the elaborate funeral the Colonel had arranged for his brother. She no longer ate with the family. She and Mr Haddam were served their meals in the Morning Room, timed so that Ursula could be free to attend on Belle while the family luncheon and dinner took place. Ursula enjoyed the secretary’s company; he had a lively sense of humour and appeared to respect Mr Seldon, but was not in awe of him.

Ursula hardly saw the Colonel. Then he stopped her one day in the hall.

‘You are looking pale, Miss Grandison. You must take more exercise. Have you been riding today?’

‘No, Colonel.’

‘I’ll have a word with Helen. We can’t have you spending all your time looking after an invalid.’

‘It is what I am here for, sir,’ she said quietly. ‘I would prefer it if you did not speak to the Countess.’

The little encounter seemed to Ursula to demonstrate how their relationship had changed. It was unlikely, she thought, to return to the same ease she had enjoyed with him before the Earl’s death.

* * *

Two days after the funeral, Belle rose and dressed for the first time since she had collapsed, and attended tea. Harry was there.

‘Will you soon come riding with me, Aunt Belle? I’m very good at jumping now. Uncle Charles says so.’

‘I hope very soon,’ Belle said to her nephew with a lovely smile. But Ursula could see tears pricking at her eyes and she quickly drew Harry’s attention to the jigsaw puzzle of a map of North America that Mr Seldon had brought and was now gradually being put together.

‘I shall question you on the various states when you have finished that, Harry,’ said the Dowager Countess.

‘Yes,’ said Helen quietly, ‘you must remember that you are half American.’

Later, after an exhausted Belle was sleeping, Ursula went to the drawing room to report on how she had survived her first foray outside her bedroom. The door was a little open and she could hear Helen saying, ‘Papa, I do not want Ursula Grandison around here a day longer than necessary.’

‘Helen, surely she is your old friend?’

As so often with Mr Seldon, he managed to instil layers of possible meaning into even the lightest of utterances.

‘No, Papa, she is not my friend. She stole my first and greatest love – and you stood by and let her!’

Ursula could not remain eavesdropping. She entered the room just as Mr Seldon said, ‘Helen, do not be ridiculous.’

Helen was standing by the window, facing her father. Mr Seldon was seated in a wing chair with the glass of water he always commanded by his side.

‘Ah, Ursula, you have arrived at a good moment. I am just telling Papa how I can dispense with your presence at Mountstanton. I cannot forget how you stole Jack from me. I know, Papa, you never thought much of him but he was the man I wanted. And Ursula took and married him.’

‘I paid him to leave you alone,’ Mr Seldon said dispassionately. He ran a finger round the top of the water glass. ‘That should tell you what sort of man he was. I gave him enough money to take Ursula out of your hair as well.’

Ursula was stunned. ‘You did what?’

‘I think there is nothing wrong with your hearing, my dear. Your father walked off with my wife. Now my daughter had fallen for a despicable cad who was trifling with you as well. What was I supposed to do?’

Ursula, stunned, dropped into a chair. ‘But you rescued me from running that sleazy boarding house in San Francisco.’

He drank a sip of water. ‘I decided you had suffered enough. After all, hadn’t you discovered your marriage was no marriage? That your so-called husband already had a wife who was laying hold of his silver mine?’ He sipped a little more water. ‘And I needed your help with Belle.’

Helen looked as stunned as Ursula felt. ‘You knew Jack was married?’

‘You didn’t realise I had all your young men investigated, my dear?’

‘In that case,’ Ursula said, her mind whirling with the implications, ‘why didn’t you just tell Helen that – and me?’

‘She would have hated me,’ he said simply. ‘Better she should hate you.’

Ursula stood up. ‘My father was right to rescue Helen’s mother from you.’

She was careful not to slam the door behind her. Then for a moment she stood, not knowing where to go, knowing all she wanted was to get away from Mountstanton and the Seldons.

Helen and Mr Seldon deserved each other, she said to herself, and found that she was shaking.

‘Miss Grandison,’ said the Colonel, ‘you are upset. What has happened?’

He seemed to have arrived from nowhere. His expression and his voice were concerned.

‘There is nothing wrong,’ Ursula said and did not recognise her own voice.

He took her arm in a gentle grasp. ‘Allow me to disagree, Miss Grandison. Come with me.’

He took her into the library, the room that had seen so many dramatic scenes, sat her down and took a chair opposite.

‘My dear Miss Grandison, tell me what has happened. I will personally deal with the person responsible.’

She tried to hang onto her anger, she did not want to start crying.

‘Colonel,’ she jerked out, ‘there is nothing you can do.’

‘Can you not allow me to be the judge of that. And can you not call me Charles? Do we not know each other well enough now for you to grant me the privilege of using your name, Ursula?’

His kindness undid her and she buried her face in her hands. Then, resolutely, she lifted her head and dashed away the tears. ‘It is only that I have just been disillusioned over someone I thought I respected.’

He looked at her searchingly. ‘I will not ask who that was, though I think I can guess. May I say that I know what that experience feels like?’

All at once the anger left her. Instead she was filled with hopelessness. ‘Once, Colonel, Charles, I thought I was married to a wonderful man. I gradually found out that he was weak, a bully and a liar. Then, final degradation, his real wife turned up.’

What she hadn’t told him was how Jack had died. The scene she had so determinedly driven from her mind returned as vividly as any in a picture book.

BOOK: Deadly Inheritance
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