Her Saving Grace (11 page)

“So, what else have you discovered?” she asked as the carriage got underway.

“You don’t much care for pleasantries, do you?” he asked.

“I have little use for them.”

“Truly?”

She looked surprised. “What can be gained by engaging in random chatter about unimportant things?”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t press the issue. “Well, what else I have discovered is this; your father was worried, very worried, about someone selling state secrets.”

“To the French?” she asked. T
h
e
Peninsular Wars had already taken her husband from her; she couldn’t believe that they might have taken her father too. “But that’s ridiculous, my father was a lawyer, not a spy.”

“That’s true.”

“Unless you’re trying to imply that he was selling our secrets to the French?”

“
Not at all, but it is possible that someone used him to get information.”

“Even if they had, he didn’t know
anything to tell them. He tried criminals in the Army.”

“But isn’t it possible
that in the course of a trial, he came across sensitive information?”

She opened her mouth to refute it then hesitated. “I suppose it’s possible, but he was such a conscientious man, that I don’t see him letting anything slip, not for money
nor from carelessness.”

“You’re saying he couldn’t have been overheard?”

“Not outside of the office.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not an idiot; he’s an intelligent and reliable man…” her voice cracked slightly on the last words and she took a deep breath. “I mean, he
was
an intelligent and reliable man.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was filled with sympathy and she hardened her heart to it. She would n
ot be an object of pity.

“How did you discover this?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice even.

He paused for a moment before replying and Damaris wondered if he was deciding whether to tell her the truth or not, or if he should continue to try and comfort her.

“The
barkeeper at your father’s club told me.”

“The…
the barkeeper?”

“Yes. It occurred to me that many gentlemen feel free talking around servants, almost as if they weren’t there, trusting that their secrets will be kept.”

“So you think this man overheard my father discussing secrets?”

“No, your father
chose to confide his concerns to him.”

“But of all people, why would he choose such a man?”

“Because your father knew that most people would overlook him, not even think to question him.”

“My detectives should have thought of it.”

“Perhaps they did. He told me that for a long while, a lot of people were asking questions about your father at the club. He kept quiet because after your father went missing, he was unsure who he should trust and he was also worried for his own safety.”

“And what, he is no longer worried?”

“No, he is, but I could tell that he knew something, so I offered him enough money for him and his family to travel to America, start a new life over there, where they couldn’t be harmed.”

Damaris was thoroughly confused by this turn of events. “How did you know he would want to go to America?”

“Because I asked around, made small talk with a lot of the men at the club.”

He looked a little smug that he had finally proved that small talk could be useful and that irked her.

“Staff, like servants, aren’t supposed to talk about themselves,” she reminded him.

“True, but it is impossible to work somewhere for fifteen years and not share something of yourself, with other staff members. I said that I had spoken to men, not gentlemen.”

How he had ever thought to question the staff before the club members was beyond her, but she couldn’t deny that he was correct (assuming the barkeeper was telling the truth).

“
I’ve written to my uncle. I gather from correspondence between him and Father, that he suspected something was wrong.”

She realised that trying to score points would not help catch her father’s killer but the idea that she might have been
wrong about Nathaniel, that he may even prove to be a better investigator than she, was very vexing.

“
Then let’s hope that he knows something to help us,” Nathaniel said with equanimity, making Damaris feel even worse for her pettiness.

They stopped at the Marigold and Pettifer estates, asking the landowner to check
among his staff and tenants, to see if anyone could remember seeing Mr Howard that Sunday. Thankfully he had been a genial and well liked gentleman, so the news of his disappearance had surprised most people, meaning that on the whole, the last time they saw him had been fixed in their memories.

Of course it was less likely that servants and tenants would so easily recall having seen him,
indeed many would not even know what he looked like but in a stroke of genius, Damaris had sketched many likenesses of her father, which she could leave with the families to be shown around.

She had also thought to write a description of her father
’s horse (which had never been found either) but sadly, bay horses were a common sight and his white blaze was not nearly distinctive enough to make the animal memorable, especially after six years.

The next estate
house was a good ten miles away but after a brief debate, they decided it was worth the journey and headed there.

Damaris then wanted to continue onto the next estate
, but Nathaniel argued that they would probably already be late for dinner as it was, and he didn’t want to put his mother out. Besides, interrupting a family during their own meal would probably not be taken kindly.

With reluctance, Damaris agreed.

As they journey back to Lanford, Nathaniel suggested putting an advertisement in local newspapers asking for information, rather than visiting each estate between Lanford and London individually, and Damaris agreed that it was more efficient.

“We should
also offer a reward,” Damaris suggested as they neared his estate. “That would make people far more inclined to come forward with information.”

“Or with false information, in the hopes of being right and getting the money.”

“Yes, but it is better to have too much information than too little.”

“Not if it means wasting time on false leads.”

“But surely those who would lie are few and far between. Why lie only in the faint hope of getting a reward?” she asked.

“People will do a lot for money, including killing
, so lying hardly compares, no matter how small the chance of rewards.”

She could see the logic in his argument but she still felt that a reward could help.

“Why not put the idea aside, just for now,” Nathaniel suggested. “If we discover that we have followed every lead to its end without result, we can then offer a reward.”

That sounded like a reasonable suggestion
, so she agreed.

***

Damaris changed for dinner and met the family in the Copley room, so called for the large portrait of Edmund Copley, the first Earl of Lanford, which hung over the large fireplace.

Lilly had been invited to join them for dinner and although she initially refused, Damaris had persuaded her. Lilly felt like a servant but she wasn’t. She had been born to a middle class family and had run her own household, until the fire that claimed her family.

She had never much enjoyed mixing with the upper class and aristocracy but as Damaris’ companion, had been required to. Knowing how difficult Damaris found social situations however, and loving her like a daughter, she had forced herself to be at ease. It had been many years since Damaris had socialised however and despite her dresses and appearance being equal to Damaris’, Lilly felt uncomfortable.

The Copleys had been nothing but welcoming to her since she arrived at the house however, and despite the disparity in their
social status, she liked them.

She and
Damaris came downstairs together, arm in arm, each aware of how difficult this was for the other, although for very different reasons. They paused in the hallway, outside the door to the Copley room.

“Breathe,” Lilly said softly.

“Are you saying that for me or you?” Damaris asked.

Lilly smiled. She considered herself privileged to be one of the few w
ho got to see Damaris’ vulnerability. Not because she liked seeing the other woman in pain, she loved her like a daughter, but because it not only confirmed that Damaris was still in there somewhere, but also that she trusted Lilly implicitly.

It gave Lilly a courage that she didn’t normally feel.

“We’ll be fine,” she assured the younger woman. “Now, take a deep breath.”

Damaris did so and t
hey stepped towards the door.

They were greeted by the butler, who bowed and offered them an apéritif from the tray he was holding.

“Thank you,” Damaris blushed, wondering what sort of drink she had just accepted. It was almost clear, possibly a fortified white wine or sherry, then again it could be a liquor of some description. If she were back in her laboratory, she could easily find out, with her scales and measures,
microscope and centrifuge, she could probably even identify how much was water and how much alcohol.

Lilly gave a gentle tug on their linked arms and Damaris stopped what she was doing. Science was her refuge, her escape from things that she didn’t want to face and right now, she did not want to face a family.

To ignore them would be rude however, and her father had taught her better than that.

“Damaris, my dear, and Lilly.” Nathaniel’s mother stood up and came over to greet them. “Come in, come in. You have met my other children, Lilly, but this is Matthew and Annabelle, Nathaniel’s siblings. This is Lady Damaris Wellesley.”

Damaris curtseyed to them. “Very pleased to meet you.”

“And you,” Annabelle said. “Nate has told us all about you.”

Damaris blushed, wondering how much he had said and certain that it could not be flattering. Then she wondered why she cared about their opinion of her, she certainly didn’t care what most people thought about her.

“Come, sit,” Isabelle said. “Nate will join us shortly, he had to go into town for something.”

“Oh?” Damaris asked. She wondered what was so important that he would leave her behind. Was he trying to shut her out of the investigation again? Why did so many people think that she was better off being kept ignorant?

“I’m sure he won’t be long,” Isabelle explained, taking the chair opposite and leaning forward. “So, how goes the sleuthing?”

“Um, quite well, I think, but not well enough to have produced a suspect.”

“Well, I’m sure that these things take t
ime,” Isabelle comforted her. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“And with such a large amount of time since… the crime, that must make things ev
en more difficult,” Matthew interjected, although his words were hesitant, as if he was afraid she might burst into tears at any moment.

“It doesn’t help but it won’t stop me,”
Damaris assured him.

Conversation ceased then, with everyone unsure how to continue. They seemed interested in the case but unwilling
to upset her, so Damaris took it upon herself to outline, in general terms, what had been discovered so far. It probably wasn’t proper pre-dinner etiquette but she had to talk about something, and she had a feeling that her recent correspondence with a German professor on the properties of gravity, would be deathly dull to them.

“It sounds fascinating,” Isabelle smiled
once Damaris had finished but after that, silence reigned once again.

Nathaniel’s sister came to the rescue.

“I’ve been practicing a new piece of music,” she told Damaris. “It’s a piece from Amilie, by William Michael Rooke. Do you like opera?”

“I do but I confess, I haven’t heard of that one.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been performed yet but a friend sent me the music. Do you play an instrument?”

“I do, the pianoforte, the violin, the flute and the harp.”

Annabelle looked surprised. “Well… you are very accomplished. Would you like to accompany me?”

Damaris realised that she may have sounded conceited, but
she had only meant her reply to be truthful. “Oh, no, I’m afraid that I have no real talent for music.”

“How can you play four instruments and not have a talent?”
Isabelle asked. “I’m sure you’re better than you think.”

“Thank you but it is not
false modesty. All my artistic endeavours are accurate but without emotion and therefore, sadly lacking.”

“But
Nate showed us your drawing of your father, it was perfect,” Isabelle sounded shocked. “I only met the man a few times, but the likeness was uncanny.”

Damaris smiled but it came out sad.
“A perfect likeness, perhaps, a copy, but without the necessary ‘something’ to bring it to life. My musical ability is just the same, a perfect rendition of the score each time, without flaw if I practice enough, but lacking the emotion to make the music truly come alive. Mother used to call me Golem.”

When everyone looked blank, she elaborated.

“It’s a creature from folk law; they were usually moulded from clay and able to pass as human, mimicking those around them and following instructions. Mother said that was me, performing my given tasks perfectly, but no more able to feel than clay is.”

“My dear Mari,” Isabelle said
. “Please forgive me for what I am about to say but, your mother was an idiotic, imbecilic fool.”

Damaris
blinked in surprise.

“
As well as your father, I have had the misfortune of having met your mother on a few social occasions, and if anyone could be accused of being unfeeling, it is her.”

“Oh no, my mother felt things very deeply, she was just extremely particular about who she wasted emotion on.”

Isabelle looked offended and Damaris blustered on, trying to explain herself.

“What I mean to say is, she had exceptionally high standards.”

From the expression on her hosts faces, she could tell that she was only making things worse.

“My mother… she… well-”

“I think what Mari is trying to say, is that Mrs Howard was exceptionally selective about who she wasted her emotions on,” Lilly entered the conversation to save her friend. “So much so that she even found her only daughter and her husband wanting. Her sons however, she lavished attention on.”

The Copleys shared a look and Damaris wondered what they now thought of her. She was a woman unworthy of her own mother’s affec
tion, so how could the rest of Society think any better of her?

“That must have been very difficult,” Annabelle said with feeling.

Damaris smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hardly. One cannot miss what one has never had.”

“Nonsense,” Isabelle declared. “Besides, I will not judge someone on the opinion of a person I dislike, therefore you must play for us after dinner and we will judge your talent for ourselves.”

“Oh no, please,” Damaris’ eyes opened wide. “I haven’t played in years, I wouldn’t be any good without practice.”

Isabelle considered for a moment before replying. “Very well, but I insist
you play for us before leaving; agreed?”

Damaris didn’t much like the sound of that but since it let her off the hook for tonight, w
ould allow her time to practice and she didn’t want to upset her hosts, she agreed.

“I look forward to it,” Isabelle smiled.

“I keep all my music in the dresser in the music room,” Annabelle said. “You can choose from anything in there.”

“Thank you.” Damaris wished that some kind of natural disaster would occur and end this uncomfortable conversation. Thankfully, Nathaniel appeared before her prayers could be answered.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, kissing his mother’s cheek then accepting a glass from the butler.

“Anything important?” Matthew asked.

“Oh no, just a trip to the library.”

“Because ours isn’t big enough?” Isabelle
teased.

“No, it’s plenty big enough, but it doesn’t have any books on translating ancient runes.”

Damaris looked up at him, surprised.

“I took every book they had on the subject and
left them in the study for you,” he told her. “I didn’t see the point in us both going, I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she assured him, feeling
relieved to know that he wasn’t trying to cut her out of the investigation.

“Runes?” Matthew asked. “Aren’t they those stones used in magic rituals?”

“They can be,” Damaris explained. “Originally however, they were simply the alphabet.”

“Oh good,” Matthew smiled. “For a moment there, I thought that you might be trying to turn us all into frogs or something.”

“Even if there were such a thing as magic, Matthew, I…” Damaris closed her eyes in mortification. “You were teasing me, weren’t you?”

“Just a little.”

She opened her eyes and saw that everyone was smiling at her, but she felt too mortified to laugh with them.

“
Well… n- now that you mention it, there was a spell I once read from the ancient Mayans, which was used to render someone mute for the remainder of their lives. I tried it once; it required sage, mugwart, the blood of a virgin and the sacrifice of three canines. You don’t keep any hunting dogs, do you?”

Everyone had fallen silent and were looking at her as if she had two heads. The silence ticked on
and Damaris’ cheeks grew warmer with each passing second, until Nate spoke.

“I’d offer you my blood but sadly, I’m not exactly pure.” He laughed
, and the others realised that she had been teasing them.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my dear,” Isabelle smiled. “You seem such an earnest young woman that we didn’t realise
you were jesting.”

“No, please, I shouldn’t tease you, not when you’ve been so good to me.”

“Nonsense.” Matthew exclaimed. “You gave us a taste of our own medicine, which we deserved, I might add. Besides, if you hope to survive your stay, developing a playful mentality is a necessity.”

“You don’t happen to know any spells that cause boils and warts,
do you?” Annabelle asked. “I know a few people who deserve them.”

“Sadly, I don’t know any actual spells, witchcraft isn’t something that I’ve studied, but I’m sure I might know of some plant extracts that would cause nasty rashes, if slipped into a cold cream.”

Annabelle laughed with delight. “I like her, Nate,” she declared. “Can we keep her?”

Nate smiled. “Unless you know any mind control spells, I’m afraid that decision must belong to Damaris’.”

“Now that you come to mention it,” Damaris interjected. “I have heard of a Haitian religion which claims to be able to reanimate the dead and turn them into mindless drones.”

Everyone laughed
.

“No, really, that’s what they claim. It’s called vodou”

They laughed harder.

“I think they like you,” Lilly murmured.

Damaris gave her a confused look because for the life of her, she couldn’t see what was so funny.

***

They ceased trying to include her in the conversation over dinner, which is not to say that they ignored her and Lilly, but they discussed family matters mostly and when the conversation switched to news or the like, they stopped specifically asking for their guest’s opinion.

It was a blessed relief to both
women and as the family talked casually about their lives, Damaris came to like them. They had an easy familiarity that she had rarely experienced and she enjoyed listening to them.

Matthew was teasing Annabelle about getting married, saying that if she didn’t pick a husband soon, she’d find herself left on the shelf.

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Perhaps I like the shelf, perhaps the view is better from up here. Besides, you know you’d miss me if I got married.”

“Like I’d miss a broken leg.”

“Children,” Isabelle cautioned but with a long-suffering and amused air. “We have guests, don’t forget.”

“Of course not, Mama
,” Matthew apologised, then turned to Damaris. “I am sorry, I should have asked your opinion; don’t you think my sister is getting a little long in the tooth to still be dallying?”

Isabelle just shook her head in despair.

“Um…” Damaris gulped. “I don’t know how old your sister is?” It had been the first thing that she could think of to say.

“Twenty.”

“Almost twenty,” Annabelle corrected him. “And I’m sure Damaris agrees with me and wouldn’t marry for anything other than love, am I right?”

“My,
um, my father arranged my marriage.”

“Really?” Annabelle looked shocked. “So you didn’t love him?”

“I grew to… care for him, very much.”

“Oh.” No one seemed to know what to say to that. “
So, uh, what was he like?” Annabelle asked.

“He was a good man, much older than me but he had a very good heart, and he indulged me when many husbands wouldn’t.”

“That’s… nice.”

It seemed clear to Damaris that Annabelle pitied her. She wanted to explain that without William, she would never have had her wonderful son, but talking about him was too painful so she accepted the pity.

Nathaniel came to her rescue then and asked his mother about the plans for the Harvest Festival this year, even though it was months away and he probably wasn’t the slightest bit interested.