The Landower Legacy (57 page)

The expression in her eyes when they looked at me … were they faintly suspicious? Was she asking: And what part are you playing in all this?

I had the utmost respect for Nanny Loman. She was a good, conscientious nurse who took her duties seriously, but because of her virtues it was unlikely that she would ever have been tempted to step out of line. Perhaps this made her specially censorious.

All would know the state of affairs which existed between Paul and Gwennie. What did they know of Paul’s feelings for me and mine for him? It was hardly likely that we had been able entirely to disguise them from those ever-watchful eyes.

They would reason: Mrs. Landower was in the way. And now Mrs. Landower had disappeared.

I had to see Paul.

Suspicion was like a worm that wriggled its way through my mind. It would give me no peace.

I kept seeing his face. “Something will be done.” What had he said:
“I hated her …” and I had replied: “You talk of her as though she were no longer there.”

Yes, we had said something like that. Why had he talked of Gwennie in the past tense?

I knew it was probably foolish but I couldn’t help it. I walked over to Landower.

It was a pity there were so many servants and I could not see him without its being known.

One of the maids opened the door.

I said: “Good evening. Mrs. Landower isn’t back yet, is she?”

“No, Miss Tressidor.”

“No news of when she is coming?”

“No, Miss Tressidor.”

“Then perhaps I could see Mr. Landower.”

“I will tell the master you be here, Miss Tressidor.”

Was she smirking? What were they thinking, this army of detectives who recorded our every movement, who lived in our lives, alongside their own?

He came to me quickly.

“Caroline!” He took my hands.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“You could come to me … always.”

I said: “Paul, I’ve got to talk to you. I’ve heard the news.”

“You mean about Gwennie.”

“She’s not in Yorkshire. Where is she, Paul?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “She could have gone off … anywhere.”

“But why? She’s never done it before.”

“I don’t know. She has never taken me into her confidence.”

“What happened? How did she leave?”

“Early in the morning. She caught the seven-thirty to London.”

“Why so early?”

“Because she wanted to go straight through to Yorkshire and had to go to London first.”

“Who took her to the station?”

“I did.”

“You? Why?”

“I suppose it was because it was so early … and I was glad to see her go. I took her in the trap.”

“There must have been people on the platform. She must have got a ticket!”

“No. We were rather late. The train was in. She didn’t go through the main entrance. She took the short cut through the yard and she planned to get her ticket on the train. It saves time.”

“So nobody saw her get on.”

“I don’t know. All I know is that that was how she went …”

“But she didn’t go to Yorkshire, Paul. Oh, what has happened?”

“She must have changed her mind and gone somewhere else.”

“Where would she go?”

“Why are you asking these questions?”

“Don’t you see? They are saying she didn’t go to Yorkshire. That girl has the letter from the aunt. She did not go there. She had not written to say she was going. There’s all that interest in the mine. You know what the gossip is like here. These people watch us all the time. Don’t you see what they’re implying? They know how things were between you and your wife. Perhaps they know about us. I don’t think much escapes them, and what they don’t see they make up. Paul, do you know where she is?”

“What are you suggesting, Caroline, that I …”

“Just tell me the truth. I shall understand … I shall understand everything … but I must know.”

“Are you thinking that I know where she is?”

“Oh, where
is
she, Paul?”

“I don’t know. I saw her on the train to London. That’s all I can say.”

“Paul … you would tell me … Don’t let us have any secrets.”

“More than anything,” he said fervently, “I want us to be together. I want us to be here … where we belong … you and I … for the rest of our lives. She stops it. But I swear to you, Caroline, as surely as I love you, that I do not know where she is. I saw her on the train. I know no more than that. Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I believe you. But I’m frightened, Paul, I’m terribly frightened.”

The main topic of conversation everywhere was the disappearance of Gwennie. Interest in the mine increased and rumour was rampant. Lights had been seen hanging over the mine. A black dog was said to be prowling around but he had appeared only to certain people.

I lived in a state of desperate uncertainty. I believed Paul. I did not think he would lie to me … unless he felt he must do so to keep me out of danger.

I could not believe that he would indulge in violence. But there was a breaking point for everyone, I suppose; and I know that the tension at Landower had been mounting over the years.

I called in to see Jamie.

He said: “There’s excitement in the air. The bees know it. They can’t seem to settle. It’s all this talk about the lady up at Landower.”

“People talk to you about it, do they, Jamie?”

“They can talk of nothing else. She’s gone off somewhere. Well, she was a fussy woman, too anxious to pry into matters that didn’t concern her. She’ll be back, I don’t doubt.”

“I am sure she will, but I wish she would come soon. I don’t like all this gossip. They’re talking about the mine and seeing black dogs and white hares.”

“Oh, the mine,” he said. “There is something about that mine. Lionheart is fascinated by it. No matter how much I warn him I can see he wants to explore.”

“There are always people there now. They all seem to be expecting something to happen.”

“If you expect something, like as not it will come.”

I wanted to talk of something else and I said: “How are the maimed and the sick?”

“A little rabbit at the moment. I found him on the road … a broken leg. Something on wheels must have run over him.”

“Jamie,” I said, “it’s so peaceful here … particularly now. It’s a pleasure to be able to call in.”

“Call in whenever you have a fancy to, Miss Tressidor.”

It was true. I felt a little comforted, but when I reached Tressidor the servants were all whispering together about the new turn of events.

In view of all the rumours about the mine, the local police had reported to headquarters in Plymouth, and it had been decided that there should be an investigation of the mine.

I shall never forget that hot sultry day.

In the morning the operation started. I heard it whispered that ropes and ladders had been taken onto the moor and that numerous men were there to arrange a descent down the mine shaft.

No one said openly that they were expecting to discover Gwennie’s
body, but that was what everyone thought. They had made up their minds that her husband had murdered her, and had given out the story of her having gone to Yorkshire, and then disposed of her; and it was all because he was tired of her, had never wanted her, had married her for the money which was to save Landower for the Landowers, and was now sweet on Miss Tressidor.

It was a dramatic story and one which appealed to their love of intrigue and showed that those who set themselves above ordinary folk because of birth and affluence were as full of human faults as anyone else.

I could not stay in. I could not talk to anyone. I wanted to be out and alone.

Yet I had to know immediately if anything had been discovered. I wanted to be with Paul. And I wanted to tell him that whatever he had done I understood.

I rode out and found him waiting in the lane for me.

He said: “I had to be with you.”

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m glad. I wanted to be with you.”

“Let’s go away … somewhere where we can talk. Let’s be quiet … away from everyone.”

“Almost everyone will be on the moors today.”

We came to the woods and there we tethered our horses. We walked through the trees. He put his arm round me and held me close.

I said: “Paul, no matter what …”

“What I’ve done,” he finished.

“You have told me you have not harmed her and I believe you. But what if …”

“If they found her in the mine …”

“How could she be there?”

“Who knows … some quirk of fate. What if she were set upon and robbed? You know how she decked herself out in jewellery. What if someone murdered her and threw her body down the mine?”

“But she was in the train.”

“I don’t know. Strange things happen. They would accuse me, Caroline.”

“Yes,” I said.

“And you?”

“I would believe in you. I would help you prove your innocence.”

“Oh, Caroline …”

“It can’t be long now. How long will they take?”

“Not long, I should imagine. We shall soon know.” “But whatever happens, I love you. I have been so critical of people. Life teaches one so much and when things like this happen one sees so much more clearly. I know how you have been provoked and even if

“But it is not so, Caroline. I put her on the train. Whatever has happened to her is none of my doing.”

We walked through the woods; the sunlight was dappled on the leaves and the smell of damp earth was in the air; now and then a startled animal moved among the undergrowth and I thought: I want to go on like this. I want to stay here forever.

It was strange that in that time of fear and apprehension which was almost too great to be borne, I should know how deeply I loved him and that nothing he had done or ever would do, could alter that.

I was not sure how long we were in the wood, but we knew we must part.

I said: “I am going to ride to the moor.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said.

“I must.”

“I shall go back to Landower,” he said.

“Never forget,” I told him. “Whatever happens, I love you. I will be with you … against all the world if need be.”

“If it took this to make you say that I can’t regret it,” he said.

He held me in his arms for a long time and then we mounted. He went back to Landower and I rode on to the moor.

There were crowds of people there. I saw the men near the mine. They appeared to have finished their task. I looked about me. One of the grooms was standing nearby.

“Is it over, Jim?” I asked.

“Yes, Miss Tressidor. They found nothing … nothing but a few animals … bones and such like.”

Great waves of relief swept over me.

“Looks like a waste of time,” said Jim.

Still people stood about. I wanted to ride back to Landower. I had to see Paul.

I turned my horse and went back as fast as I could.

I did not care what the servants thought. Let them do their worst. Gwennie’s body was not in the mine. They would have to believe that she had got on that train to London.

I knocked at the door. One of the servants opened it. I stared. Someone was coming down the stairs. It was Gwennie.

“Hello, Caroline. This is a joke. Here I am. I gathered you have been wondering what had become of me?”

“Gwennie!” I cried.

“None other,” she said.

“But …”

“I know. I’ve been hearing all about it from Jenny. They’ve been searching the mine, looking for my corpse. What fun!”

“It wasn’t much fun.”

“No. I gathered they suspected my dearly beloved husband. Well, that’ll teach him a lesson. Perhaps he’ll treat me better now.”

Paul had come into the hall.

“She’s come back,” he said.

“Perhaps we ought to go and tell them at the mine,” said Gwennie.

“They had already finished their work,” I said.

“Oh, were you there? Had you gone to see my grisly remains?”

“Certainly not,” said Paul. “She knew you were not there. I had already explained that you had gone off on the train.”

“Poor Paul. It must have been awful for you … that suspicion. I can’t wait to show myself. I’d have loved to arrive at the mine. They might have thought I was the ghost of myself.”

“There was a great deal of consternation when Jenny heard from your aunt that you had not been to Yorkshire.”

“Oh yes … I decided against it at the last moment,” said Gwennie lightly. “I went to see someone I knew in Scotland.”

“What a pity you didn’t say. It would have saved a great deal of trouble.”