“And load your pistol,” Cyril added.
“The sooner we get you back to London, Perce,” Arnold said, “the better for everyone, I think.” But he did turn and look at Imogen, Percy noticed. She had gone to sit on a chair beside Mrs. Ferby, who was patting her arm.
“But there is viciousness underlying it all,” Percy said. “A bit of brandy, a bit of lace I might be tempted to ignore. Broken legs and murder I cannot.”
“Murder?”Uncle Ted said sharply.
“I have no proof,” Percy said, “but yes, murder. Ten years ago there were threatening letters when the late Viscount Barclay voiced his concerns about the trade encroaching upon his father’s land. Today Lady Barclay received another such letter. I did not ask, but I believe I can guess the answer. As far as you can recall, Lady Barclay, does this one appear to be written in the same hand?”
Mrs. Ferby had Imogen’s hand clasped in her own, their fingers laced.
“Yes,” Imogen said.
“I would like you all to read it,” Percy said, “with Lady Barclay’s permission.”
“Yes,” she said again.
Percy handed the letter to Cyril, who was closest to him, and it was passed from hand to hand until all the men had read it. Mrs. Ferby stretched out her free hand, and Knorr handed it to her.
“Somewhat illiterate, is it not?” Uncle Ted remarked. “The man can scarcely write.”
“It is upsetting for any lady to receive something like this,” Uncle Roderick said. “But it is a little difficult to take it seriously. It is all nonsense, in my opinion. Slanderous, though.”
“I tend to agree,” Uncle Ernest said. “But if this comes from one of the servants here, Percy, the man must be rousted out and dismissed immediately. He has not signed it, of course, even with an X.”
“Lady Barclay must be offered protection, Perce,” Arnold said. “You live alone, ma’am, at the dower house with only a servant, do you not? And I understand even she leaves at night?”
“You must move to the hall immediately, Cousin Imogen,” Uncle Roderick said, “until this matter has been investigated, as I suppose it must be. You must never be alone. Your maid must sleep in your room with you at night.”
“But I have no wish to leave my own home,” Imogen protested, speaking for the first time.
“It would be better if you did, ma’am,” Sidney said, “temporarily at least. There are enough of us here to offer you proper protection on the unlikely assumption that there is a madman on the loose.”
“Hardly amadman,” Mrs. Ferby said, and all eyes turned her way. “This,” she said, waving the letter in her hand, “was written by a very clever man. I would not underestimate him if I were you, Lord Hardford.”
“I do not believe I am underestimating him, ma’am,” Percy said.
“Clever?” Sidney asked.
“The multiplicity of errors in the letter suggests someone who is making them quite deliberately,” Knorr said. “And the vast changes in style of handwriting in the course of such a short note suggest a deliberate attempt to deceive. But there is a certain menace about the tone, which goes beyond the words themselves. Perhaps it is the contrast between the childish appearance of the note and the message it conveys.”
Percy looked at his new steward with approval.
“Where did it come from?” Cyril asked. “From here or from somewhere outside?”
“That meeting was yesterday morning, you said, Percy?” Uncle Ted asked. “Who left the house or estate during the rest of the day?”
“Apart from us, do you mean?” Percy asked. “Knorr, do you know?”
“No one as far as I know, my lord,” Knorr said after giving the matter some thought. “But it is hard to say for certain. We all know how news and gossip seems to travel on the wind.”
“Whoever it is,” Mrs. Ferby said, “it is someone whose handwriting is well known.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Arnold agreed. “He has certainly gone out of his way to disguise it.”
“We are assuming itisa man, are we?” Sidney asked.
“Oh, it is a man,” Mrs. Ferby assured him with some spirit. “A woman would make her threat directly to the man. A woman would stab straight to the heart or shoot right between the eyes. Only a man would threaten the woman for whom his enemy cares.”
