Hasty Death (23 page)

‘Well, that won’t work any more because they point out that if I did, you would be arrested. So I have come to ask you to think of something else.’

Harry sat silently for a long moment. Then he said, ‘The trouble is that I do not think they will ever give up until you are married.’

‘I’ve got it!’ Daisy clapped her hands, her eyes shining. ‘Why don’t you marry my lady, Captain Cathcart?’

‘Don’t be cheeky, Daisy,’ admonished Rose.

‘Perhaps there is a way out,’ said Harry slowly. ‘If I proposed marriage to you and suggested a long engagement, that would give you time. Then, after a year, you can break off
the engagement, but during that year, as I shall be busy with my work, you will find time to find someone suitable.’

‘My parents would never let me accept,’ said Rose, a high colour on her cheeks. Did the captain need to look at her in that measuring way, as if she were nothing more than a business
proposition?

‘I think they would. I am of good family. I can afford to pay the no doubt horrendous marriage settlements that their lawyers will insist upon. I can be very persuasive. They will be
anxious to see you settled.’

‘You would need to look . . . affectionate,’ said Rose.

‘Oh, I can manage that.’

‘Go on, Rose,’ urged Daisy. ‘It’s him or India. Think of the heat, the flies, the boozy officers, the bitchy memsahibs, and what about the Hulberts?’

‘Who are the Hulberts?’ asked Harry.

‘Some terrible dragon of a woman who is an old friend of Mama’s,’ said Rose. ‘What if I take a fancy to some gentleman shortly after this supposed engagement?’

‘Then you terminate the engagement early,’ said Harry cheerfully. ‘Your parents won’t mind so long as you have someone, anyone, to marry.’

Rose was beginning to find all this humiliating. Harry could at least have shown a little warmth instead of looking at her as if she were nothing more than another case.

‘I’m sure I can think of something else,’ she said stiffly. ‘Goodbye, Captain Cathcart.’

‘No, stay,’ he said quickly. ‘I have hurt your feelings by being so detached about it all.’ He suddenly smiled at her, that smile of his which softened the harsh lines of
his handsome face. ‘And it would serve your purpose, would it not?’

‘May I say something, sir?’ interposed Becket, who was standing behind Harry’s chair.

‘By all means, Becket. Pray be seated.’

Becket sat down next to Daisy. ‘Lady Rose,’ he said, ‘I gather you have led a particularly restricted life of late. Were you engaged to my master, you would have more freedom.
Captain Cathcart works hard, but I am sure he would be prepared to attend social events with you. You would not be the target any more of men you did not like, nor would you be so closely guarded
by your parents. I think it is a very good idea.’

‘Oh, very well,’ said Rose ungraciously. ‘When do you plan to approach my parents?’

‘Late tomorrow morning.’

‘I do not think for a moment you will have any success,’ said Rose, ‘but thank you for trying. Daisy, are you ready?’

‘Well, I think it downright noble of him,’ said Daisy on the road back. ‘You would be able to help him with his detecting like you once wanted to.’

‘I have had enough of horrors and frights to last me a lifetime,’ snapped Rose, huffily thinking that Captain Cathcart might have said something like how honoured he was, or that he
would do anything in the world to help her.

To Rose’s relief, after stopping the hansom on the far corner of the square and walking the rest of the way on foot, they were able to slip in unnoticed.

She finally fell asleep that night torn between worrying thoughts that her parents might not accept the captain’s proposal and being uneasily afraid that they might.

The following morning, the earl looked up from his newspaper as Brum, the butler, entered the morning-room and said Captain Cathcart had called.

‘What does that man want now?’ demanded the countess. ‘You didn’t send for him, did you?’

‘No, but I’d better see him. Useful chap. Put him in the study, Brum.’

‘Very good, my lord.’

The earl entered his study and blinked at the vision that was Captain Harry Cathcart. The captain was wearing an impeccably tailored morning suit. His thick black hair with only a trace of grey
at the temples was brushed and pomaded until it shone.

‘Ah, Cathcart,’ said the earl. ‘What’s amiss?’

‘I am glad to say that nothing is amiss,’ said Harry pleasantly. ‘I have come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.’

The earl sank down into a battered leather armchair. ‘This is a shock. I must say I admire your cheek. Won’t do, you know. You’re a tradesman.’

‘I am of good family, as you know,’ said Harry, ‘and I can now afford to keep your daughter in style.’

‘But you are one of society’s misfits!’

‘As is your daughter. My lord, think calmly about my proposal. Can you envisage your daughter married to a conventional man? Lady Rose would quickly become bored and go looking for
trouble.’

The earl took out a large handkerchief and mopped his brow. ‘This is so sudden,’ he said like the heroine of a romance. ‘I don’t know what my wife’s going to say to
all this.’

‘Why don’t we ask her?’

‘Follow me. But she’ll say the same thing.’

Harry followed the earl to the morning-room. Lady Polly was sitting reading her husband’s newspaper at a table strewn with the remains of a hearty breakfast.

‘That’s mine!’ said the earl, snatching the paper from her. ‘You know I don’t like anyone reading it until I’ve finished with it. You’ve crumpled
it.’ He turned to an attendant footman. ‘Take this away and iron it again.’ Newspapers were always ironed so that nasty black ink should not sully aristocratic fingers.

‘Captain Cathcart,’ said Lady Polly. ‘Have you breakfasted?’

‘Thank you, yes.’

‘Coffee? Tea?’

‘Coffee, if you please.’

Another liveried footman went to the sideboard to get Harry’s coffee. When it was placed in front of him, the earl said to the footman, ‘Take yourself off and stand outside the door
and make sure no one comes in. Got private business.’

Lady Polly looked at her husband in amazement. When the servant had left, she asked, ‘What is going on? Not more skulduggery, I hope.’

‘Worse than that,’ said her husband. ‘Cathcart here wants to marry Rose.’

‘Well, the simple answer is no,’ said Lady Polly placidly. ‘You should have known better, Captain. A man in your position can hardly hope to be allowed to marry an
heiress.’

‘Then what will happen to Lady Rose?’ asked Harry.

‘We are sending her to India.’

‘Is that such a good idea? What if there is another mutiny? What if she meets some adventurer who is only after her money?’

‘Rose will be staying with a very good friend of mine who will look out for her,’ said Lady Polly.

‘A Mrs Hulbert, I believe?’

‘Yes, how did you know that?’ Lady Polly’s eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been seeing my daughter behind my back? Oh, dear God, do you
have
to marry her?’

‘Nothing like that. Servants will gossip, you know.’

‘No, I wouldn’t know that, young man. Only very low people listen to servants’ gossip.’

‘This Mrs Hulbert has daughters of her own, has she not?’

‘Yes, two. Bertha and Caroline.’

‘I assume they didn’t take at the season?’

‘No, that’s why they’re going.’

‘My lady, as I have heard,’ said Harry, who had done his homework, ‘the Hulbert daughters are singularly plain and of a somewhat sharp-natured temperament. You are foisting
onto Mrs Hulbert a beautiful girl. Lady Rose will have a horrible time. Mrs Hulbert will make no push to have Lady Rose settled until she has seen her own daughters safely engaged. She may even
keep Lady Rose in the background. Do you dislike your own daughter so much that you must needs guard her night and day and possibly try to force her into an unsuitable marriage? Remember that she
is now capable of working for a living, and as soon as she reaches her majority, she may simply leave home to get away from the pressure.

‘I doubt if she will ever forgive you for putting her in asylum.’

‘We didn’t know it was an asylum. She just thought it was a nerve place where she could be talked out of her odd ideas,’ said the earl.

‘You are in danger of forfeiting the love of your daughter,’ pursued Harry.

‘Don’t be vulgar,’ said Lady Polly. Really, what was this odd man talking about? Daughters simply did as they were told. Everyone knew that. Did he expect her to behave like
some common character in a cheap play?

‘We’ll be here all day,’ grumbled the earl. ‘Where’s that newspaper?’

‘You told the servants not to interrupt us,’ his wife reminded him.

A look of cunning came into the earl’s usually guileless eyes. ‘Wait in the drawing-room, Cathcart.’

When the door closed behind Harry, the earl said, ‘We needn’t bother. Let the man make his proposal. Rose isn’t going to accept him.’

The worry cleared from Lady Polly’s face.

‘Of course. I’ll go and get Rose.’

Rose was waiting in her sitting-room. She was dressed in a blue organdie gown with a little white spot. Blue kid shoes were on her feet and blue ribbons were threaded in her
thick hair.

‘You look very fine!’ exclaimed her mother. ‘Were we due to go out anywhere?’

‘No, Mama.’

‘You’re to go down to the drawing-room. Captain Cathcart wishes to propose marriage to you.’ She gave a chuckle. ‘Hurry along then. You’ve got ten minutes to deal
with him.’

Rose entered the drawing-room and a footman closed the double doors behind her.

The couple studied each other for a moment, each reflecting how fine the other one looked.

Harry walked forward and took Rose by the hand. Then he sank down on one knee. ‘Lady Rose,’ he said huskily, ‘would you do me the very great honour of giving me your hand in
marriage?’

‘There’s no need to play-act,’ said Rose.

‘Who knows when they’ll walk in on us?’

‘All right. Yes, I do.’

Harry stood up and fished in his pocket and drew out a little box. He opened it to reveal a sapphire-and-diamond ring.

‘Oh, how beautiful,’ said Rose, as he slid it on her finger. ‘You should not have gone to so much trouble.’

‘He gone yet?’ asked the earl.

Lady Polly looked down from the window. ‘His motor car is still there with his manservant at the wheel.’

‘I think we’d better see what’s going on.’ The earl sighed and put down his freshly ironed paper with reluctance.

‘They’re coming,’ said Harry, cocking his head to one side. He drew Rose into his arms.

‘You’re not going to kiss me, are you?’ demanded Rose, blushing.

‘No, just lean your head on my manly chest.’

The doors opened and the earl and countess stood stricken at the tableau in front of them.

‘Congratulate me,’ said Harry. ‘I am the happiest of men.’

There was nothing that Rose’s parents could do now but give their blessing.

When Harry had gone, the countess rounded on her daughter. ‘Not a word out of you. You have thrown yourself away. Come, dear, I need a cup of tea.’

The earl went back to the morning-room and picked up his precious newspaper only to find it had fallen in the marmalade dish. ‘You,’ he said to a footman, ‘take this away and
clean it and iron it again!’

Dr McWhirter’s corpse – or what was left of it – was eventually discovered by a gamekeeper. Foxes and other predators had done their busy work and left the
rest to the maggots. The bullet had dropped down through the exposed skeleton and fallen to the ground. When two policemen came to remove the remains, one large regulation boot ground the bullet
down into the forest floor. From the rags still clinging to the skeleton, they assumed it to be the remains of some tramp.

The remains were buried in a pauper’s grave. Foul play was not suspected.

Superintendent Kerridge read of Harry’s engagement in the
Times.
He was happy for both of them and assumed they would settle down to a conventional married life.
He doubted if he would ever see them again and felt a tinge of sadness. He had felt comfortable in their company because he sensed the three of them in their way did not really fit in anywhere and
that had forged a bond between them. He had received news that Peregrine Stockton was back in the country. It crossed his mind that he ought to warn Lady Rose and then decided against it. After
all, the man had had an unfortunate mother and there were no charges against him.

Miss Ailsa Bridge ferreted through her belongings, some of which were still in boxes, and found a crystal butter dish which she considered would do very well for an engagement
present. Then she took another sip of gin.

Lady Polly had thawed somewhat towards the engagement. Harry had helped so many people in society that she found her daughter was regarded as fortunate. So it was with a
lighter heart that she set out one sunny day to attend at garden party at Mrs Barrington-Bruce’s home in Kensington accompanied by Rose and Daisy. Harry had promised to be there.

Luncheon was served at tables in the garden. Rose was not seated next to Harry, a good hostess having assumed that engaged couples saw enough of each other.

She had a guards’ officer on one side and an elderly gentleman on the other, neither of whom seemed to wish to make conversation.

Harry was in conversation with a very pretty lady of mature years. The tops of her swelling white bosoms rose above a gown of midnight-blue moire. She was wearing a dashing little hat tipped
over her glossy blonde curls. Harry was laughing at something she was saying. Rose reflected sourly that she had never seen Harry look so relaxed or happy before.

The guardsman next to her – what was his name again? She peered at the place card in front of him. Ah, Major Devery, that was it.

The major was crunching an ortolan, bones and all. She waited impatiently until he had finished and said, ‘Who is that lady next to Captain Cathcart?’

‘Eh, beg your pardon?’

One monocled eye swivelled in Rose’s direction.