Jane Austen Mysteries 08 Jane and His Lordship's Legacy (34 page)

"Ah!" Holbrook said brightly. "That's better! All the mud of England might have been caught in my throat! And so Charles arranged to pay off the man who would have split on him, I col-lect, and proceeded to murder my Immy?"

"Exactly so. You are admirably succinct, my lord. I perceive now why such a depth of friendship obtained between yourself and Lord Harold. The Major arranged to meet Shafto French near Chawton Pond on the very evening Julian Thrace was ex-pected to dine at Chawton Great House. I recollect that Spence was said, by Thrace's own admission, to have been otherwise en-gaged that evening. Having ridden on horseback from Sher-borne St. John to Chawton alone, and back again, Thrace could bring no witness as to his actions along the route. He might protest his innocence when charged with French's murder all 274 ~ Stephanie Barron

he liked; he could offer no evidence that he had
not
killed the man."

At this point, my brother interrupted. "You must have been greatly discomfited when French's body was not found, Spence."

"I am sure I should have been," the steward replied acidly,

"had I killed him."

"What motive did you intend to offer for Thrace's violence?

Were Lord Harold's documents--which you thought to secure in my brother's banking branch in Alton on the Monday--to be found among Thrace's things? In the event, you had neither a body nor a wooden chest to show for all your efforts; and so we proceed to the second chapter of our story."

"Good God!" Spence cried. "I pray it does not run to a third! Is this not tedium enough, my lord, for one morning?

You have had your refreshment; pray let me carry you to your daughter's chamber."

"I collect that French's body was found, however," the Earl said testily, "or you should not have known to suspect Spence in his murder."

"I discovered his corpse myself; but that is another story.

For the nonce, it is enough to know that the poor man was drowned while Thrace was in Chawton. The Thursday follow-ing, one of French's mates forced an entry to my cottage, and stole Lord Harold's papers--which have still not been recov-ered. We believe the man to have had a confederate: one Old Philmore, who has also disappeared."

"A confederate?" Spence objected. "But--"

"--You believed Old Philmore to have acted alone," I replied, "and are astonished to learn that in silencing the old man, you failed to end his tale entirely. I am sorry to disappoint you, Major Spence; but so it is. Philmore's nephew is even now in Alton gaol, and weakening in his loyalties."

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 275

For the first time, Spence betrayed his fear. He turned rest-lessly about the room, his gaze abstracted, as tho' debating what best he should do. He came to a halt behind the great desk, staring out the windows at the driving rain.

"I was very stupid, when all is said and done," I admitted. "I thought from Lady Imogen's looks on the Saturday that she was privileged in the knowledge of her own triumph. I thought Thrace was vanquished by Lord Harold's proofs--that he knew himself exposed as an imposter. I actually believed he might have arranged her ladyship's race and subsequent fall, in the faint hope of suppressing all knowledge before the Earl should learn of it. In short, I behaved in exactly the fashion
you
might have hoped from all our party, Major Spence. You were a con-summate plotter--and I was your dupe."

He did not move, did not reveal that he had heard me.

"You may have already perused the contents of my chest. I cannot say what you found there. But the sequel must give a partial knowledge. By Saturday, Lady Imogen was dead; and Julian Thrace accused of her murder. I collect, then, that the unfortunate Mr. Thrace
is
undeniably Lord Holbrook's heir--and that only a noose could prevent him from inheriting your earldom, Major Spence."

"Lord," the Earl of Holbrook murmured, "it is as good as a play! Dolly Jordan is as nothing to you, Miss Austen. But you need not have gone to such trouble, Spence. I could have shown you the proofs myself, had you only asked. They are not to be found among Lord Harold's papers, you know. They are among
mine.
"

We turned as with one will and stared at Freddy Vansittart.

"Wrote to me direct from France," the Earl explained,

"when he recovered the boy. Wrote the particulars and en-closed Helene's dying words. Didn't need Harry's fist to con-vince me of the gel's constancy. Never had any doubt regarding 276 ~ Stephanie Barron

Julian's blood. I've maintained him in school all these years, haven't I, and made sure he was raised an English gentleman?"

The Earl withdrew a wallet from his coat with thick and fum-bling fingers. They trembled slightly as he extracted a thin sheet of foolscap, fragile and transparent with age and much folding. Even at a distance of ten paces, I could discern the fa-miliar sloping hand.

Lord Harold's writing.

"There," the Earl commanded. "You may read it for your-selves. I've never parted with Harry's letter. It's all I have left of Helene."

We all of us stood paralysed, uncertain to whom this charge was directed. And at that moment, Spence made his move.

He threw himself not at the Earl or the precious relic held in his hand; nor did he grapple with Edward in a des-perate surge for the door. He did not knock me down, or hurl himself through a window as Thrace had done; he dived for the great desk's drawer.

I believe that Edward understood before I did what the Ma-jor intended. But by the time my brother had reached him the cavalry pistol was already levelled against Spence's own temple.

"No!" Edward cried. "I beg of you, Spence--"

But the report of gunpowder and ball must serve as his only answer.

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 277

Letter from Lord Harold Trowbridge to Frederick, Earl of
Holbrook, dated 8 January 1792; two leaves quarto, laid;
watermark fragmentary ELGAR; signature under black wax seal
bearing arms of Wilborough House;
Personelle, Par Chasseur

Expres,
in red ink.

(British Museum, Wilborough Papers, Austen bequest)

Dearest Freddy:

I achieved Paris three days since, and have spent the interval
in searching for the Citizeness Helene. I will not tax your
patience with a report of the state of affairs in this miserable
place; I will say only that I have found her, but she is in no
condition to be restored to you. To be brief: she is to meet the
guillotine on the morrow. Nothing I can contrive among her
gaolers--neither payments of what gold I still possess, nor the
promise of safe conduct to my country--has succeeded in
winning her freedom. It appears Helene committed the fatal
errors of remaining in the city when all was lost, and of
championing the cause of a childhood friend similarly consigned
to execution. Someone--I know not whom--has informed upon
her as the paramour of a conspiring Englishman, and you know
well that such
trahison
shall never go unpunished.

I shall endeavour to do what I can to disrupt the Committee's
plans, but will say no more here lest this missive go astray.

Of your son I have better intelligence--he is placed with a
cottager near Versailles and knows nothing of his unfortunate
mother's fate. I have seen him, and when all is concluded--for
good or ill--I shall get him to you in Marseille, or die in the
attempt.

You may expect us within a fortnight.

You would find your poor lady much changed. She remains,
despite the grossest of indignities and a cause for despair beyond
278 ~ Stephanie Barron

imagining, the sweetest-tempered female I have ever met with.

She begs to be remembered to you and her father, and asks on her
dying eve that you guard well the life of your son. Some token he
bears with him which you will recognise; I know not what. Pray
God that we arrive safe.

Yours ever,

Harry

y4141414141414141 t

Chapter 25

The Earl 's Story

10 July 1809, cont.

~

It was Edward who rode out to fetch the surgeon, Mr. Althorp, from Sherborne St. John, in order that he might pronounce another sudden death to have been achieved at the great estate of Stonings. I remained with the Earl of Holbrook while Charles Spence's valet took his master's body in charge, and saw it washed and laid out for burial with his own hands. I had not encountered the Major's manservant before, but was much struck by the expression of suffering that was writ on his countenance; clearly Charles Spence had been beloved of somebody.

The Earl escorted me from the scene of gore and misery that had become the library, and deposited me with a decanter of sherry and Lord Harold's precious missive in the white and 280 ~ Stephanie Barron

gold saloon. He disappeared for an interval, in which I assume he paid his respects to his daughter's bier, and issued orders re-garding the Major's remains. I walked about the room in some disorder of mind, debating every moment of the past week and my own tragic miscalculations regarding the persons I had lately met. The Earl returned after twenty minutes, in apparel freshly exchanged for his garments of the morning, and look-ing the better for his respite.

"My dear Miss Austen," he cried, "I could wish us to have met under more cheerful circumstances. It is shocking indeed to consider the scenes to which you have been subjected. But I am grateful to you for the perspicacity you have brought to Ston-ings; I should not have suspected Charles Spence in an hundred years. Altho'--given his ruthless determination to acquire my property--I doubt my life would have lasted so long."

"I must agree with you, my lord."

He threw himself onto the settee at my side and patted my hand encouragingly. "I apprehend, now, why Harry left you his papers, m'dear. You're as shrewd as you can hold together, aren't you? I wish Immy had possessed a little of your under-standing; the gel might yet be spending my money hand over fist."

He looked so troubled that I felt an unwarranted desire to protect and support him; the sort of desire that must often have attended Freddy Vansittart's adventures, and ensured him the love and good will of those around him.

I offered the Earl Lord Harold's letter. "I collect from this communication that the boy his lordship speaks of was Julian Thrace?"

"Indeed. Delivered like a package to my inn at Marseille not ten days after the date of that note. There was never anything like Harry for dependability; when Trowbridge gave his word, he backed it."

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 281

"Had you known the boy before?"

"But naturally! I fell head over ears in love with Julian's mother when I was a young man out in India, and by the hour of her death was almost Helene's sole support. I should have gone to her myself, at the last, but for the price the Committee had placed upon my head."

I had an idea of the story, but forbore to interrupt him.

"She was the daughter of a French count, and the daintiest piece of work you should ever have seen, m'dear." He sighed reminiscently. "No sapskull, neither. When we met Helene was betrothed to another--a peer of the British realm--and her sense of what was due to her father, who had arranged the match, dictated the most scrupulous fidelity to his wishes. Her heart, however, was another affair altogether. Wonderful how these French women can reconcile the very Devil!"

I murmured assent.

"I cannot recall a happier time than those few short weeks aboard the
Punjab,
Miss Austen. When we achieved Plymouth, however, I gave her up for lost. No sooner did I find myself back in London, than I was riveted meself--it was only expected, as I had come into my brother's title, and must stand the business.

Amelia was well-born, well-looking, and without a penny to her name; that meant little to me, as I had made my fortune already in the East. I fear, however, that I was unable to accord my wife the sort of affection and fidelity a young woman might expect from her husband. My heart was already commanded by an-other, you see. Amelia left me when our child was but three years old, and I was forced to raise Immy myself. Not that I minded; it was preferable to living with my lady wife's highjinks.

All the same--I never undertook to marry again. Hadn't the desire for it, if you see what I mean."

"I do understand. But the French lady . . . ?"

"Couldn't stick the Viscount," he answered bluntly, "and 282 ~ Stephanie Barron

naturally, she must have appeared in his lordship's eyes as rather tainted goods. I will not deny that Helene achieved her wedding day already two months gone with my child. I suppose she thought to brave it out--to deceive the gentleman if neces-sary, and endure a loveless marriage, provided he could be kind to her--but the truth is, St. Eustace was the Devil's own cub, and there was no living with him for any woman. Helene sought my protection within six months of her marriage, and I saw the poor gel safely home to Paris with all possible speed. Set her up in a lovely little house in the Rue de Sevres, and prepared for both of us to be happy. That would have been 1786, I suppose--the year of Julian's birth. But what with one thing and another, I only saw my French family perhaps four times in a twelve-month. And then the Revolution began, and it was hard to know where an Englishman's duty lay."

"Particularly an Englishman of the Whiggish persuasion," I observed.

"That's the rub," he agreed. "We were all for liberty, at first--for the reign of Reason, and the power of a Constitution, and the curbing of royal prerogatives; it was like mother's milk to us, don't y'know. Even Harry was wild for French republican-ism. But then he saw at first hand the excesses of the populists bent on murdering all those they could not persuade. He wrote back to his friends at home that measures would have to be con-trived, once the blood began to flow. And so we all agreed to serve as the rescue party for our French brothers. Charles Grey conceived of the details, and Harry and I volunteered to carry them out."