The Shadowcutter (40 page)

Chapter Thirty-eight

“You and I, Mr Carswell,” said Major Vernon coming into the library, “Are in need of purposeful activity. Sooner rather than later. May I?” he added, his hand on a chair rail.

“Of course,” Felix said.

“I know you have not been much in the mood for company,” Major Vernon said, pulling out the chair and sitting down opposite him at the table. “I have made sure you were not disturbed.

Felix had been left for the last two days to keep his counsel in the library. Not even Mr Carswell had come in to bother him on the pretext of searching for a book.

“You must have said something to my father,” Felix said.

“I saw you had made yourself comfortable in here,” Vernon said, “And that your father was equally comfortable in that little room downstairs, so I had Holt move some books there for him. Mostly the divinity. We did not think you would miss those.”

“No,” Felix said, in some amazement, noticing now the dozen empty shelves on the far side of the room. In fact he had scarcely taken a book from the shelves. He had established himself a sort of desk on the large table in the middle of the room, and he had attempted to distract himself with some medical work. All the summer he had been toting about two thick French volumes on respiratory and pulmonary conditions. Now they lay on the table reproaching him. He had not opened them. He had spent his time gazing out of the windows and wondering what Sukey was doing, where she might be in the house and what she might feeling at any instant of the day. He had begun dozens of letters to her, and then revolted by the self- pitying tone of them, fearing she would laugh at them, he had burnt them in the grate.

She had, since he had seen her in the garden, become invisible. Like him, he supposed, she had contrived to hide herself away. Ardenthwaite was a large, rambling house full of places to hide. What might have been sweet refuges for lovers, now became sanctuaries for those attempting valiantly not to be in love.

“And Holt was also in need of purposeful activity,” Major Vernon added. “Not that moving a few books is enough for a man like him.”

“You might send him out to shoot rabbits,” Felix said. “Or set traps for the moles. Have you seen the state of the lawn?” He had stared at it a great deal in his misery, and begun to believe that each fresh molehill was proof of the wretched and imperfect nature of the world.

“You could take a gun out yourself,” said Major Vernon.

“I am a terrible shot,” Felix said. He did not add he would be too tempted to turn it on himself.

“I have another idea,” Major Vernon said. “Assuming, of course that my physician says I am well enough.”

“It would depend on what you had in mind,” Felix said. He had examined the Major that morning after breakfast and been heartened by his progress. “But, as I said this morning, you are definitely on a favourable course.”

“All I propose is this – that in a day or two, we go back to Stanegate, and try to get back that bracelet. I want to talk to Don Luiz properly. Actually, I want him to admit how he came by it and swear to it, if at all possible, but that may be asking too much. But an admission will help with the weight of evidence against Lady Warde.”

“I told Lord Rothborough we should enlist Dona Blanca’s help in that. Ask her to return it quietly for the sake of national prestige. But that would not help you, sir, would it?”

“It may be she does not have that sort of influence over him,” Vernon said.

“She is a sort of queen in exile, from what I understand,” Felix said. “And he has to listen to her, because of her popularity with the people.”

“And Ramirez is what? The king-in-waiting, apparently, and how close are they, in truth? It is quite intriguing. She is a strong woman and I were him, I would be wary of her and her motivations. He may be pretending to be an ally for the sake of it.”

“Keep your enemies close,” said Felix

“Quite,” said Major Vernon. “And I think, given the matter of those letters, and her excessive caution and secrecy, that she is not showing her true colours towards him. That it it is a mutual case of keeping enemies close. What was it you said she said about Don Xavier – that he took care not to be found? Interesting, don’t you think?” Major Vernon was tracing circles with his forefinger on the table top as he spoke. He went on, “Lord Rothborough’s secretary, Mr Woodward speaks excellent Spanish, I think we should commission a translation of those letters she gave you, post haste.”

“We would have to go over to Holbroke then,” Felix said, thinking of the family chapel adjoining the Parish Church where he had attended Mrs Vernon’s internment only a week ago. “Do you think –?” he ventured.

“I am ready for it,” Major Vernon said. “I want to see where she is laid – sooner rather than later.”

Felix nodded and got up from the table.

“We could go today,” he said. “You are right sir. I have had quite enough of my own company.”

The carriage was ordered for after lunch. Felix had the dispatch case tucked inside his coat, and he could not deny that the prospect of learning what the letters contained was a useful distraction.

When they were just about to climb into the carriage, his mother came out of the house, carrying a small but carefully arranged posy of flowers which she handed to Major Vernon.

“I have found all the things for which you asked,” she said. “And one or two others, which I hope you do not object to. Myrtle and rosemary, chiefly. And our prayers are with you.”

Major Vernon took it, and slightly to Felix’s astonishment, thanked her with an easy kiss on the forehead, whereupon she wrapped her arms about him for a moment, and returned the kiss. Turning away he caught sight of Sukey coming out the shadowy hallway into the sunlight. She was also carrying flowers, this time a vast armful of colourful blossoms, shining against her dark dress and white apron.

She darted out and thrust the flowers at Major Vernon.

“For Mrs Vernon,” she said. She was flushed, he saw, and he longed to press his hand to her cheek and feel the sweet looking heat of it, as well as to soothe it.

Major Vernon took the flowers with a gracious nod, and she went running back into the house without another word.

“What a dear girl,” said Mrs Carswell.

Felix was on the verge of running back into the house but Major Vernon was already climbing into the carriage.

So they drove to Holbroke with the seat opposite covered in flowers. Felix wanted to gather Sukey’s bouquet into his arms and weep into it. There was to be no happiness, no promise, no future. Nothing. Only death remained, the supreme conqueror of all. Major Vernon did not break the silence, but sat fingering a sprig of rosemary from Mrs Carswell’s posy.

A previous Marquess of Rothborough, Felix could not recall which, had rebuilt the Parish Church at Holbroke, at the end of the seventeenth century in a chaste baroque style, reminiscent of Wren’s City Churches. It was calmly elegant, and peaceful, with nothing to reprimand or alarm among its white Corinthian columns, and handsome altar fittings. A sweet-faced, and Felix had to admit, extremely beautiful Raphael Madonna with and equally beautiful Christ-child in her arms, hung above the communion table, against a background of rosy damask.

Major Vernon stood looking at it for some minutes.

“Laura would have liked that,” he said.

“Lord Rothborough had that put there, recently, I think.”

Major Vernon nodded.

“And she is...?”

“Through here, in the family chapel.”

Lord Rothborough had been insistent that as a guest of the family, Mrs Vernon should be treated as one of them in death, and after the service, she had been taken down to the family vault.

They went through to the chapel, which guarded by an elaborate gilded gate and past the many opulent tombs, with their elaborate statues and inscriptions. Various lords and ladies, with ruffs and stocks, and cushions and little pet dogs surrounded them, and Felix felt he was a drawing room full of dead ancestors. These were his people whether he liked it or not.

The door to the vault was closed but in front of it was another huge heap of fresh flowers, to which Major added his own posy and those from Sukey, and then went back into the main church and sat down, his eyes again fixed on the Madonna and child.

“I’ll leave you alone now, sir,” Felix said, and went out back into the sunlight.

-0-

“This is providential!” said Lord Rothborough, when they had stated their business and handed over the dispatch case to Mr Woodward. “Only today I have had another interesting letter from my contact in Paris. Santa Magdalena is a nest of snakes he says, and this only confirms it. How long do you will think it will take you, Woodward?”

“I cannot say at once, my Lord. Give me a quarter of an hour and I will come back to you with an estimate. Excuse me please, gentleman.”

Woodward left, and Lord Rothborough said to Giles,

“It is entirely typical of you, Major Vernon, to discover a talent in one of my men of which I was, lamentably, unaware. How?”

“I don’t know. We were just making conversation.” Giles said.

“It is your particular genius to find out all our secrets,” Rothborough said. “I think you are wasted in the police business, Major. When we are back in government, you must expect to be asked to act on a broader stage.”

Giles shrugged, having no wish to discuss his future at that moment

“Your correspondent in Paris,” he said. “What else does he say?”

“It is really quite sensational, if it is true,” said Rothborough. “Now you may know that the island is principally known for coffee and sugar production. A few little seams of gold and silver here and there, but nothing for anyone to get excited about. Until recently. According to my correspondent, Don Luiz has been talking up the mineral rights to his potential political backers in Paris. There is a new geological survey of the island from some Prussian fellow called Valk. Valk has all the right credentials and swears blind that there is a mountain of gold in Santa Magdalena just waiting for the taking.”

“And Don Luiz, as the future president will of course control the mineral rights and will look kindly on any political supporters who would like to exploit them in future?” Giles said.

“Naturally,” said Lord Rothborough.”

“But the existing government, which is falling apart, knows nothing of this?”

“No. I am not convinced this Herr Valk has even been to the island. That was my immediate thought. A few clever maps and talk of limitless gold can make men crazy with thoughts of ‘what might be’. It has happened before and it will happen again.”

“It ought to be easy enough to find if Valk is genuine,” said Carswell.

“It is already in hand,” Rothborough said. “However, there is a chance that my cynicism will be unjustified, and there is a mound of gold on the island, in which case the matter becomes a great deal more serious. It becomes a matter of our national interest – we would need our own chance at that gold, and to be certain that the government is one that we can do business with. As it stands I cannot think that Don Luiz will be sympathetic or useful to our interest if he becomes President. He is clearly a rogue, but of a lesser or larger sort, we do not yet know!”

At this point a servant came in with a tray of refreshments and a message from Woodward that he was hard at work at the letters and it would be two days work.

Rothborough poured the wine, and said, handing a glass to Giles, “I understand you went to the church?”

“Yes, and thank you again for all that you have done for us, for her. It is...” He could not quite find the words to go on.

“I wanted to show you this,” Lord Rothborough said. “Maria took her profile. It is rather nicely done. She left it here for you – but her suggestion was that it should be sent away and done in marble – bas-relief? Or bronze perhaps?”

Giles took the paper from Lord Rothborough and went to the window to look at it properly. Lady Maria was no great artist, but she had got, in her clumsy way, Laura’s character, and oddly enough, a flavour of how she had been when he had first known and fallen in love with her.

The sight of it was too much for him. He could not contain his grief any longer. His stoicism gave way, and he was obliged to excuse himself.

He made his way through the great rooms, now all shut up, the rugs covered, the furniture shrouded. He found what he hoped was a inconspicuous corner of an ante-room and gave way to his grief in a way he had not yet done.

He did not know for how long he was there, but at length the spasms subsided and he looked up, with damp and stinging eyes, to see Lady Charlotte standing on the threshold.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I could not help but...”

“I thought you had gone to Sussex,” he said getting up.

“No, I am going to Scotland. I begged my father for that indulgence. Besides there is someone he wishes me to meet. Lord Dunbar. Perhaps you have heard of him?”

“Yes, I think I have read a pamphlet of his on factory legislation.”

“Maria has met him. Apparently he is twenty-seven, tall, quite ugly but very clever and energetic. He is mad for reform. My father thinks highly of him, of course.” She spoke brightly but not quite brightly enough to conceal the crack in her voice.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” he managed to say.

“For what?” she said. “It is not for you to apologise. You are not at fault. I am the one who let my fancy gallop away with me, and very embarrassing it is. But at least I know that you are discreet and honourable! And now I have seen your great distress for your dear wife – which I should not have intruded upon – please, please forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Giles said. “Please. I am glad to see you. We ought to be friends, for God knows, that’s a precious thing! Life is too short and too fragile. Please?” He put out his hand. “Will you shake on that, Lady Charlotte? ”

“With great pleasure,” she said. “And will you wish me luck in Scotland?”

“Certainly,” he said, as they shook hands. “And he may not be so ugly.”

“Perhaps,” she said with a smile. “I have read a speech of his on education for the labouring classes and it was impressive. He was quite interesting on the importance of the education of women.”