Unlikely Traitors (28 page)

With a shiver Ursula drew the shawl and cardigan in around her as she groped her way down the corridor, cursing herself for not having the foresight to ask for a flashlight or candle by which to guide her way. Her thirst however compelled her to find the kitchen. There was, of course, no staff to speak of—only Lady Winterton’s lady’s maid, Grace, and she was no doubt at the very top of the house asleep in the servant’s quarters. Lady Winterton’s room was on the other side of the landing but Ursula hardly liked to disturb her for something as trivial as a drink. Ursula’s eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness as she made her way down the staircase.

At the foot of the stairs Ursula found a gas lamp and a box of matches on the hall table. She lit the lamp and, holding it by its brass handle, made her way toward the back of the house where, she assumed, she would find the kitchen. She soon found it and, after a few desultory pumps at the old-fashioned sink, she managed to get the water to flow. Unable to find a glass she used a teacup instead, gulping three cupfuls down in quick succession. She then refilled the cup for a final time and started making her way back along the hallway. Past the kitchen and dining room, Ursula found a narrow room lined with bookshelves—the moonlight picking out the gold lettering on some of the spines nearest the window. The room was sparsely furnished but, as Ursula thrust the gas lamp inside, she immediately recognized the place as a library or study of some sort—most probably Lord Winterton’s given the heavy wooden shelving and dark masculine brown wallpaper.

“What are you doing?” Lady Winterton’s voice made her jump.

Ursula turned quickly to find Lady Winterton standing behind her with a small portable flashlight in hand.

“Just needed a drink of water,” Ursula explained, holding up her cup. “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was afraid you may have taken ill,” Lady Winterton said. She stepped forward and touched Ursula on the forehead and cheek. “You do feel a little feverish.”

“Do I?” Ursula responded blankly.

“Yes, you should get back to bed as quickly as you can,” Lady Winterton advised. Her tone betrayed her concern. “I will call for a doctor in the morning—just in case.” Ursula had to admit she did feel a little clammy and disorientated and now fear gripped her like a vise. She squeezed her eyes closed for the anxiety of illness was so great—the threat to her unborn child so disquieting—that it made her head throb.

“Come with me,” Lady Winterton said firmly as she took Ursula’s arm and steered her back towards the staircase.

By morning Ursula had barely slept and Lady Winterton insisted she stay in bed while Grace went to fetch the local doctor. When the esteemed physician finally arrived he pronounced her fever to be little more than a ‘nervous reaction to the country’ which failed to inspire much in the way of confidence. Ursula finally fell asleep around eleven and when she awoke the house was silent and still. Even the clock on the bedside table had ceased its ticking. Ursula had no idea of the time but as she got out of bed and walked over to the window she could see the sun was now low in the sky and she guessed it was close to four. From this vantage point she could see across the fields to a small copse of trees. The low grey clouds had lifted and the sky had emerged blue and clear. Ursula felt her forehead with the back of her hand and hoped the fever had broken, for she no longer felt clammy or racked by thirst. Indeed she felt restless, longing to be free of the oppressiveness that this room—this house—seemed to produce.

Ursula quickly dressed and headed downstairs, her footsteps echoing along the empty corridors and near deserted rooms.

“Lady Winterton wasn’t expecting to see you up and about,” Grace’s voice called out from the hallway. Ursula spun round. “You startled me!” she exclaimed. “The house felt so quiet I thought I’d been abandoned.”

“Lady Winterton’s out visiting some of the tenants on the estate,” Grace explained. “Would you care to wait in the front parlor? I can get you some tea or a late luncheon if you would like.”

“Actually,” Ursula said, “I feel like trying to get some fresh air.”

Grace looked at her dubiously. “It’s alright,” Ursula reassured her. “I am feeling much better—I just need to stretch my legs a bit—especially as it looks as though it may have finally stopped raining.”

“Very good Miss,” Grace answered noncommittally. “I’ll be heading off to the village soon to pick up further provisions.”

“Tell me,” Ursula prodded gently. “How is Lady Winterton doing?—I’m worried it must be very hard for her being back here.”

“She’s always a little sad when we come back, Miss…I think the reminders are too much for her sometimes.”

“Yes,” Ursula murmured. “You were her maid when Lord Winterton died, were you not?”

“I was…”

“Had he been ill for a long time before it happened?” Ursula asked.

“He’d been bad for while…” Grace acknowledge. “But I think it was the court case that finally did it”—she pulled a handkerchief from her apron pocket with a sniff—“Robbed him of all hope it did and then it was only a matter of months…”

Grace hesitated, as if she concerned she may have betrayed her mistress’ confidence.

“Please don’t feel embarrassed,” Ursula said hastily, although she dearly wanted to question Grace further. “I never liked to ask Lady Winterton—and I certainly didn’t mean to upset you—it’s just my curiosity.” Ursula gave an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

Grace nodded and blew her nose loudly. Ursula told Grace she would bundle up warmly and take a brief walk around the estate.

“When is Lady Winterton likely to be back?” Ursula inquired, as she bundled on her jacket and overcoat.

“She said not until supper—she was planning on dropping in on a few of the neighbors as well.”

“Thank you,” Ursula responded. “I’ll probably be back well before her, but if not, can you please tell her where I’ve gone and that I am feeling much better. I don’t want to worry her any more than I already have.”

Grace bobbed a curtsey and said, “Right you are, Miss.”

In her thick brown woolen coat, sensible boots and her hat pulled down warmly over her dark auburn hair, Ursula made her way out of the rear door of the house and set off across the thick green meadow that lay at the back. Tangled with brambles and weeds, it was hard to tell whether this had ever been a cultivated garden or if wild fields had always backed onto the estate. About half a mile through the thick grass, Ursula came upon the ruined remains of a small stone building. It looked as though it had once been a cottage. Inside there were rusting farm implements and what appeared to be a pair of wrought iron gates propped up against the remains of one the walls. The gates caught Ursula’s eye for they had the remains of elaborate iron-scrollwork still visible. Ursula gingerly stepped through the doorway, careful not to step on the rusty pitchfork that lay on the ground submerged by weeds. Using her sleeve she pushed aside the cobwebs to read the scrollwork.
Tir Tairngire
.

Though Ursula had no idea what it meant, the name itself was not unfamiliar. She tried to recall where she had seen the name before but could bring nothing to mind. With one final glance at the broken gates, she retreated from the cottage. By now the enthusiasm and energy with which she began her walk had died and she began to feel tired.

She was still ruminating on the name—irritated that she could not remember where she had seen it before—when she returned to the house. The smoldering remains of a small bonfire greeted her near the back door.

“That was a short walk, Miss,” Grace called out. “I still haven’t had a chance to head off to the village.” She pointed to the fire. “Her ladyship wanted me to try and clear some of the old rubbish about the place. Hope the smoke won’t bother you.”

“Grace,” Ursula said. “Do you know what Tir Tairngire means?”

“But of course Miss, it’s this place isn’t it…”

“Ah, of course…” Ursula said softly to herself before she turned back to Grace and asked. “Do you know what it means?”

“The Land of Promise, Miss…It’s what Lord Winterton named this place after he took my mistress to be his bride. He had grand plans, he did—wanted this to be one of the finest estates in all of County Meath.”

But that was not how it turned out, Ursula thought, remembering where she had seen the words
Tir Tairngire
before. She gazed at the smoldering fire. The edge of a pamphlet was still visible and the scorch marks reminded her of dark green foliage; the white paper, the edge of a waterfall…A flame flared, and the red-orange flash was like the burst of sunlight through a forest canopy.

No
, Ursula thought,
that was not the way it turned out at all
.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Lady Winterton did not return from visiting tenants on the estate until late in the afternoon and by then Ursula had retired once more to her room. She needed time to be alone with her thoughts and feigning sleep was as good an excuse as any. Below she could hear Lady Winterton’s voice as she closed the front door and called out for Grace to take her coat. Ursula heard a motorcar draw up in the driveway and she sat up on the bed. She heard Lady Winterton’s voice once more from below and waited.

Before too long, there was a cursory knock at her bedroom door. Ursula got up and took a step back, as the door opened abruptly. James stood in the doorway.

“I thought I told you not to come to Ireland?!”

“James,” she said, feeling relief and apprehension in equal measure. “You had me worried…why did you not leave a message with Lady Winterton’s sister-in-law, Mrs. Dooley? A calling card was hardly sufficient.”

“Why did you leave Dublin?” James demanded. “I visited you the morning after you arrived but you’d already left. Mrs. Dooley said she thought you had gone to a hotel. I wasted two days trying to find you until I thought to try the old Winterton estate. God only knows what possessed you to come here!”

“When you visited Mrs. Dooley did she not say anything about Julia’s condition?” Ursula said.

“Condition?” James responded. “I spoke with Julia and she seemed fine—just put out that you had apparently insisted on leaving her there.”

Ursula sat down on the bed heavily.

“Are you all right?” James asked. “Lady Winterton said you had been feeling ill,” His gaze flickered to her belly. “I just assumed you had left because…” he paused awkwardly.

“My condition?” Ursula supplanted.

James nodded.

Ursula bit her lip and replied. “It was scarlet fever we were concerned about—but I’m guessing by the look on your face that no one in the Dooley household was sick…”

“No,” James answered with a frown. He took two steps towards her but stopped as Ursula held up her hand. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Ursula shook her head and murmured. She was not ready to voice her suspicions until she had a better idea of what this ‘game’ was really all about and just who exactly was involved. She had not forgotten Lord Wrotham’s field book or the possibility that James was a German spy.

“I have bad news I’m afraid,” she finally said. “I wasn’t able to decode the field book.” Ursula hoped her face did not betray the fact that she was lying.

James continued to regard her with confusion. “That’s a pity,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re acting the way you are—what has happened?”

“Nothing,” Ursula said firmly. Her tone broached no further inquiries.

“I came upstairs to tell you that I didn’t come alone,” James said but as Ursula’s face filled with hope, he quickly added: “Chief Inspector Harrison is with me.”

“Oh,” Ursula responded dully.

“He’s waiting for you in the front parlor,” James said. “Though I suspect he has little in the way of news for you.”

Ursula rose to her feet, feeling a still, cold numbness within.

With a complete lack of propriety, James caught her arm as she passed.

“I’ve found McTiernay,” he said.

“Do you know?…” Ursula could not continue.

“There’s no word on whether Lord Wrotham is alive or not. I haven’t told Harrison of my enquiries yet, and would prefer that he remain in ignorance—for now at least. I think we should consider our next move before involving the Chief Inspector or that idiot Sir Buckley.”

Ursula nodded. “Harrison will certainly not hear of it from me. Tell me though, when do you plan on confronting McTiernay?”

“We must move quickly. He never stays in one location for long—but in the meantime you’ll have to deal with Harrison. I’m afraid he discovered me in Dublin and insisted on seeing you the moment I found you. He said he needed to speak with you.”

“And I with him,” Ursula replied enigmatically and James frowned once more.

Ursula paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Where is Lady Winterton?” she asked. James shrugged. “Somewhere in the house—but Harrison insisted on seeing you in the parlor alone.”

“Promise me one thing,” she said, her hand reaching to where James’ remained clasped to her arm. “Promise me that you’ll see this thing through to the end.”

In a gesture that seemed both deeply tender as well as protective, James touched her left cheek with the back of his other hand. “How can you doubt it?” he whispered.

“Because I doubt everything now,” Ursula replied as she opened the door.

“You’re going to have to trust someone,” James reminded her.

“Really?” Ursula answered as she passed him in the doorway. “What makes you so sure I trust you?”

“Miss Marlow,” Harrison said. As her rose to his feet to greet her, she saw the shock hit him with full force.

Ursula steadied herself as she entered the room. Harrison’s expression had a greater impact than she could have ever imagined. She saw his disbelief turn to dismay as he stammered, “I should have come sooner…”

“Why?” Ursula replied. “If you had known would it have made you any less likely to have suspected me responsible for Lord Wrotham’s disappearance? Would the fact that I am carrying Lord Wrotham’s child have compelled you to solve this case any quicker?”

“You must know I have been doing all that I can…” Harrison replied, his face flushed. “I’m only sorry that I accused you of being complicit in Lord Wrotham’s abduction but I…I had no idea of your current condition…”