The Shadowcutter (33 page)

“Oh Lord in heaven,” he heard her say. “Oh.” She turned back to him. “I think –”

He rushed the few steps to her side. She was standing by a large wicker hamper on top of which was sitting a badly-tied and quite substantial bundle made of the same black silk, the edges roughly cut and fraying as on that first piece.

“Hold this,” she said, thrusting the candle at him.

He held it up while she untied the bundle. It fell open revealing a further mass of black silk scraps.

“It’s a whole gown,” she said. “I swear that’s what it is. Look, this is a sleeve, and this is a bit of the bodice. All ripped up. Why would you do that?”

“Because it was ruined? And you wanted to destroy it,” said Felix, taking a piece up and looking at it close to the candle flame. The light revealed a large, suspicious stain. “If it had blood on it, for example?”

Chapter Thirty

Sukey Connolly was sitting on the dressing room floor surrounded by scraps of black satin. She jumped to her feet at the sight of Giles in his dressing gown.

“Dear Lord, what are you doing out of bed, sir?”

“I was looking for Holt. I am rather thirsty. What are you doing?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you,” she said. “At least not just now. You should go back to your bed at once. Mr Carswell will be –”

“You will have to tell me now,” he said. “And I am feeling a great deal better – well, a little frail still, but not so frail that you cannot tell me your secret. What is all this?” He reached out and took the rag of black silk she held in her hand.

“It is something we found, Mr Carswell and I. You see, first there was this...” She went to the table and took up another scrap, this time with a piece of white paper pinned to it. Then she at once put it down. “Your fever? You look so very red, sir.”

“I am still feeling rather warm,” he said. “But my headache is much improved, and I do not feel so sick. I can stand a few sweats and shivers. So tell me.”

“Only if you sit down,” she said, indicating the arm chair. He obeyed and was glad of it, for he felt more fragile than he had admitted.

She handed him the labelled scrap.

“I found this in Mrs Vernon’s petticoat hem, when we first put her in the state bed. I didn’t know what it was, and it didn’t seem the right moment to mention it. So I showed it to Mr Carswell and we went looking on the staircase to see if there was any more of it. Just to find out how it got there, really, just in case it meant something.”

“And?”

“We found all that, up in a lumber room, just above the staircase. The same stuff, all bundled up. And with stains all over it that Mr Carswell thinks might be blood.”

“And you are trying to put the pieces together here?”

“Yes, I think it is all from the same dress that has been chopped up.”

“And chopped up in a hurry,” Giles said. “Do you know whose dress this might be?”

“Do you?” she said.

“It’s a widowish sort of gown,” he said. “And expensive, but well worn, by someone who has position but not the means that go with it. There is one woman in this house that fits that description.”

“Lady Warde,” said Sukey. “But why would we find her her dress ripped up in the lumber room, with possible blood stains on it?”

“The mistress of a jewel thief may perhaps have a few secrets of her own,” said Giles, feeling a little queasy again. “I think I had better to go back to bed.” He pulled himself up from the arm chair, and staggered a little as he did so.

“Here, let me help you,” Sukey said. She took his arm and guided him back into the bedroom, into bed, and then insisted on wiping down his face and neck with a cool, damp cloth, an action which brought blessed relief to his burning skin.

“It pains me that you should be put to work like this –” he managed to say. “And I do not know how I can ever repay you, for all that you have done for us. I should demand you go and rest. You have had as great a shock as any of us.”

“I am like you,” she said, laying a folded cloth on his forehead. “I like to be kept busy. That is the best thing for me at the moment.”

She reached to adjust the cloth and he caught her hand in his.

“I cannot thank you enough,” he said. “I must say it. You showed her such love, such kindness – you were the greatest of friends to her, and did more than anyone, without ever being asked.”

“I liked the work,” she said, laying her other hand over his. “There is a great deal of pleasure in being useful. I think you would say that yourself.”

“Yes,” he said. “I would.”

She smiled and laid his hand down on the sheet, and went away from the bed.

“I shall go and get you some tea,” she said. “So hush now, and rest.”

-0-

Felix had just finished giving Lord Rothborough an account of the state of Major Vernon’s health, when the door to his office opened and Lady Rothborough entered. Lady Charlotte was in her wake, looking somewhat agitated. Felix guessed that she had attempted to prevent this invasion, knowing that he was there.

The Marchioness was tiny but she did not lack presence as she stood there in her freshly-donned mourning, a sumptuous black lace cap pinned on her head, in the manner of a Spanish mantilla. She was strong-featured, not at all beautiful in conventional terms, but she had a face that one could not forget once seen.

She looked Felix over with painful thoroughness, her large eyes making him colour and look away. Then, to his relief, she turned this fierce gaze upon her husband and said, “Introductions have, in this case, never been necessary nor desirable, but extraordinary circumstances have come over us all. I must therefore to do my duty and acknowledge this young person.” She made a curt gesture of her hand towards Felix. “The late Mrs Vernon spoke warmly of him and all he did for her, with an honesty of spirit by which no Christian could fail to be moved – although it pained me greatly, as you may imagine!”

“Perhaps you would like to sit down, ma’am,” Lord Rothborough began, bringing forward a chair. She waved it away.

“And now,” Lady Rothborough went on, “she has been taken from us, in these dreadful, dreadful circumstances and I find myself here, forced by the inscrutable hand of Providence to examine my own conscience. Therefore I give him leave to be here as long as is necessary, until these matters are settled.”

She turned back to Felix, clearly expecting a show of deference. He managed a graceless, mortified bow, but only just. Her tone made him feel stiff-backed and angry.

“He will not, however,” Lady Rothborough went on, with a distinct harshness now entering her voice – no doubt she considered his bow quite inadequate – “dine at our table.”

“Mama!” exclaimed Charlotte. “That is too –”

“Be quiet!” said Lady Rothborough.

“No, I shall not,” said Lady Charlotte. “You shall not speak to Mr Carswell like that. It is too shocking. Of course, he must dine with us!”

“Rothborough, do you hear that?” said Lady Rothborough. “How she undermines me? This is all your tutoring.”

“Please, ma’am, please!” said Lord Rothborough, very quietly. “I beg you to think before you speak. And you, Charlotte. Your mother has made a great concession, for which we are all grateful. Let it be at that, yes?” He stretched out and took her hand.

Charlotte hesitated for a long moment, and looked as she were swallowing down a torrent of words. Then she nodded.

“Forgive me,” she said, quickly and in clipped tones as if she were spitting out a bitter seed.

“Of course,” Lady Rothborough said and swept from the room.

Lady Charlotte did not follow but closed the door behind her, and stood for a moment, her arms wrapped about her, as if mastering herself.

“How is Major Vernon?” she said, to Felix. “Is he in any danger?”

Felix shook his head.

“But I ought to go and see to him,” he said.

“Might I see him also?” she said. “I could make myself useful.”

“And keep out of your mother’s way?” said Lord Rothborough. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. You should go and make peace properly.”

“I cannot,” said Charlotte. “That was outrageous! Papa, I cannot.”

“If you show her your gratitude and your approval,” Lord Rothborough said, gently coming over and putting his arms about her, “yet more concessions may be made. Grace and diplomacy are always the best weapons.”

“Perhaps,” she said, after a moment. She kissed her father on the cheek and then turned to Felix. “But if there is anything I can do for Major Vernon, you must tell me. And let me know how he does.”

“Of course,” said Felix.

She left them, and Lord Rothborough gave a great sigh and rubbed his face.

“Charlotte is an excellent nurse,” he said. “But I do not think her tendre should be encouraged, given the circumstances.”

“Her tendre?” Felix said.

“There is always a danger with confronting a girl like Charlotte with an impressive individual like Major Vernon, and now he is in such a vulnerable condition –” He sighed again. “She is like a great body of water, waiting to break through a tide wall. She needs a husband, a lover, a life’s work and we have utterly failed to find anyone suitable! And she sees a man whom she must admire, and who is now wrecked! How can she keep her pity in check? We must keep her away from him. Gusta’s poor broken heart has been bad enough to bear abut I think she will mend soon enough. But if Charlotte loves, well, she is like you and I, Felix – deep and dangerous in her passions.”

Felix could not help recalling that mortifying scene he had witnessed the day before between Lord Rothborough and Dona Blanca. “Do not be kind to me,” she had said, and he had kissed her full on the lips and she had yielded. What had passed between them after he had gone? She had not been there when he had returned with the awful news about Mrs Vernon. Had they parted for ever or was something again going on between them that required Lord Rothborough to mollify his wife?

Chapter Thirty-one

With Lord Rothborough’s little homily on unsuitable objects of affection still ringing in his ears, Felix found his own faithfully tending to Major Vernon, who was tossing and turning in a fitful manner that was not encouraging.

“He was up and asking questions,” Sukey said.

“Of course he was,” said Felix, pulling off his coat.

“He got the whole business about the dress out of me. But then he had the sense to go back to bed. He fell asleep for a while, but he’s getting in a poor way now. I have sent Holt for more ice,” she added.

“Excellent,” he said. “Any more vomiting?”

“No,” she said. “But I don’t like this. It’s –”

“Don’t worry. He’s very strong,” said Felix, “This will pass.”

“God willing,” she murmured.

“I have seen it before, in weaker constitutions and they have survived. If we keep him washed down and cool, it will pass. He will not give up. He has too many questions to answer, for one thing.”

“He thinks it is Lady Warde’s dress,” she said. “He said that a woman who had a thief for a maid may have secrets of her own.”

“He did wonder if Eliza Jones was working with someone. Perhaps it was with her: mistress and maid, travelling about, taking their pick of snuff boxes and necklaces and then selling them on to Edgar. Maybe that is it.”

At this moment, Holt came in with John the footman and a quantity of ice. They discussed nothing further, while they got on with the business of reducing Major’s Vernon’s fever to a less alarming state. Another hour or so passed, with some critical moments, but by the time the ormolu clock on the mantel struck five, Felix felt that the worst had passed. The Major fell into a comfortable sleep and they were able to catch their breath. James Bodley and Mr Grainger appeared with a lavish tray of refreshments and messages of support from Lord Rothborough.

Sukey, now pale with exhaustion, was sitting on the window seat, and only upon Felix’s insistence that she should. He handed her a cup of bouillon and sat down beside her, determined she should eat and drink.

“Then you are going to your bed,” he said. “You had no sleep last night. I did.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. And you will always do as I say now, if you know what is good for you,” he added.

“You are determined to be my master, aren’t you?”

“No, not your master. Your protector. Your friend, your –” he broke off, his confidence deserting him.“Perhaps?”

“No castles in Spain,” she said.

“You said that before and I don’t care for it.”

“It is only good sense.”

“I am sick of good sense,” said Felix. “Heartily sick. There is so little certainty in life, and there are sinking sands everywhere. I can’t bear to think that one moment my back might be turned and you could be... gone. And I would not have –”

“I will be gone soon enough,” she said after a moment. “And that will be that.”

“Do not say that,” he said. “Do not.”

“I will have to look for another situation.”

“That I will not have,” he said.

“You want me to starve, then,” she said. “I have to make my own way.”

He shook his head.

“Not if –” he began. He took a breath. “Not if you were to marry me.” She sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t that you wouldn’t like to,” he went on. “I know that much. And any objections that other people care to put up, well, they can be disregarded.”

“You want to make enemies of all your friends and families,” she said. “And mine.”

“No, because they will soon understand the rightness of this, and all will come around. I am sure of it. My mother, for example –”

“Would be broken-hearted,” Sukey cut in. “I am not having that on my conscience.” She put down her cup of bouillon and got up from the window seat. “This is a foolish conversation, at the best of times, and this is not the best of times. If you have any feelings for me, you will not pursue this. Please!”

“So we are always to be cast into misery just because of the accidents of our birth?” he said. “And sacrifice our happiness so that no-one else can be alarmed or upset?”

“And how do you know we would be happy? I can’t imagine a situation better laid to set us at odds than this! I know about this, trust me! I know. Unlike you I have been married – try to remember that before you speak!”