“Tom Shapman?It never were! He’d not harm a fly, Tom wouldn’t.”
“Well, he has confessed to the murder of Mr Nicholson, and is currently in York gaol awaiting the Lent Assizes,” Bertram said.
“But… but he’llhang!”
“Precisely. That is what happens to murderers.” Bertram turned to the head groom, who had been carefully feeling Catullus’s legs. “What do you think, Morton? What is the damage?”
“He’s fine,” Morton said, sounding surprised. “Whatever treatment you gave him, Whyte, it seems to have worked. I can’t even tell which leg it was that was injured.”
“Tis this one, sir,” Whyte put in eagerly. “Will it do?”
“Sir?” Morton said to Bertram’s father. “What do you think?”
“It looks fine to me.”
“I’m real sorry, sir,” Whyte said to Bertram. “I’ll collect my things.”
“Whatever for?”
“I assume you’ll turn me off… won’t you?”
Bertram shrugged. “You got him back safe and sound, in the end. Next time, write to tell us what is going on.”
Whyte laughed. “I never thought of that, sir. I’m a fool, aren’t I?”
“No, just a lad of only sixteen. No one expects you to be wise to the ways of the world, Whyte, not at your age, and you did well to get Catullus and yourself home safely. That is something to be proud of. And now, there’s a broom over there waiting for you, and a yard to be swept.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Thank you very much, sir.”
***
Bea was not sure what to make of the invitation from the George Athertons. Was it a recognition of her betrothal to Bertram, or merely a routine offer of hospitality, to be returned in a month or so when the George Athertons would dine at Highwood Place? Her stepmother took it as the former, and insisted that Bea wear one of her grandest London gowns for the occasion, something normally reserved for Marshfields.
With five adult children in the family, together with several visitors, the drawing room at Westwick Heights was already crowded when the Franklyns walked in. Mrs Atherton greeted them affably, and towed Lady Esther away to meet a friend of hers, newly arrived that day. Bea’s father was immediately scooped up by Mr George Atherton. Bea herself was surrounded by the Atherton daughters, but they were of no interest to her.
Ah, there he was! But Bertram was looking bemused, with an unknown young lady on either side of him.
“Who arethey?”Bea said.
“Who? Oh, friends of mine,” Julia said. “The Pailthorpe sisters.”
“They are very encroaching,” Bea said, seeing one of them place a proprietorial hand on Bertram’s sleeve. “He needs to be rescued.”
So saying, she ploughed her way across the room to Bertram, elbowed one of the Miss Pailthorpes aside, and tucked her arm into his. “Did you think you could hide away from me, Bertram? Goodness, what a crush! I cannot remember when I last saw this room so full. Are there any more to come?”
“No, with your arrival we are all here now,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “We have guests in the house, as you see. Bea, may I present to you Miss Pailthorpe and Miss Anne Pailthorpe.This is Miss Franklyn, our neighbour and my good friend. Myverygood friend. I am teaching her Latin.”
The sisters exchanged a glance, then with one accord they marched away.
“Oh, well done,” Bea murmured. “You got rid of them very efficiently. I have a question about that passage fromThe Aeneid, where—”
“No Latin this evening,” he said, although his smile broadened.
“Oh. None at all?”
“Not one word,” he whispered. “Tonight is for good company, although not so many that we become overheated, and good food, although nothing too rich or indigestible, and good music, although not so loud that it hurts the ears. Mother has taken every precaution for our continued good health, you understand.”
“Your mama is all consideration,” Bea said, chuckling. “And even if we do happen to become overheated, we shall not be allowed to open a window.”
