“She asked for his lordship, my lord, who is in the drawing room. Shall I show you the way?”
“If you would.”
The butler led him down a wide corridor to the great hall, two storeys tall and filled with light from a glass roof far above. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with a fearsome array of ancient weaponry. Edward was ushered past the stairs, with its suits of armour guarded by a pair of Chinese urns on the half landing, to the prettily appointed drawing room, where Tess was already kneeling at her uncle’s feet.
“Miss Nicholson and Lord Tarvin, my lord,” the butler intoned, his voice signalling clear disapproval of those persons who rushed into a room without even waiting to be announced.
A dozen or more pairs of eyes, currently fixed on Tess, now swivelled to Edward. Into the silence, Tess’s voice was clear and high.
“He did not do it, Uncle Charles, he did not! He is innocent.”
“But he confessed to it,” the earl said querulously. “I do not see what I am to do about it if a man stands up and says he killed a man. Am I supposed to say,‘No, I do not believe you’?He confessed, the investigation into the murder is over, we have got rid of that Edgerton fellow and his prying, thank the Lord, and that is the end of the matter. ”
Tess sat back on her heels. “May I see him?”
“Edgerton?”
“No! Tom Shapman.”
“The murderer? Certainly not!”
“Is he here? Or… where is he?”
“Why would he be here? He is in York Gaol, awaiting the Assizes.”
“York Gaol!”
Edward crossed the room, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You may go to York tomorrow, Tess, but just now I suspect everyone is awaiting dinner.”
“Oh. Of course,” she said in a small voice, rising smoothly to her feet. “I beg your pardon, uncle.”
“Dinner will be put back, naturally,” the earl said, rising also. “Tarvin, you are welcome here. You are both welcome, but do you go and change, Tess. We will talk more about this later.”
“What is there to talk about?” she said in angry tones, before striding out of the room with a swish of her black skirts.
Edward bowed to the earl and followed her from the room. A footman led him up the stairs to an elegant room aswirl with activity. Two maids were hastily throwing sheets onto the bed, another carried a wobbling tower of linens, while a fourth rushed in with a steaming ewer of water. Meanwhile, several footmen were manoeuvring boxes under Deakin’s supervision. There was a dressing room, fortunately, so Edward was able to escape the chaos and dress as swiftly as it took Deakin to remove the appropriate garments from one of the trunks.
He returned downstairs to find the drawing room deep in a multitude of intense conversations. With no one to announce him this time, no one looked up as he entered, so for a while he loitered near the door, unwilling to put himself forward in such a family crisis.
Eventually, one of the men came forward, quite young, no more than one or two and twenty.
“I am Kent Atherton, Lord Tarvin,” he said with a grin. “One of Tess’s many cousins. Shall I introduce you to everyone, or do you plan to pretend to remember us all? Or is a drink the most urgent requirement?”
Edward laughed. “A drink first, definitely, and then introductions. It is five years since I was here, and I never got everyone straight at the time. I cannot remember you at all.”
“Ah, the forgettable one of the family! Such is the fate of youngest sons everywhere,” Kent said cheerfully, deftly steering Edward to the sideboard where decanters of wine and sherry sat.
Thus fortified, Edward allowed himself to be taken across the room and introduced to Lady Alice Nicholson, Tess’s mother.Her widow’s attire would have identified her instantly, and her still-luminous beauty was very memorable, but he had forgotten, until she turned towards him and fixed her gaze on his ear, that she was blind.
“Lady Alice,” he murmured, bowing. “May I offer you my sincere condolences on the recent death of your husband.”
“Thank you, Lord Tarvin,” she said with a gracious bow of her head. “Pray sit beside me and tell me all that my daughter is about these days, for she is not the world’s best correspondent. She is betrothed to your cousin, I understand?”
“Indeed. He is my aunt’s son from her first marriage. His father is long dead, and I am a trustee for his fortune, a duty I inherited from my uncle, the late 3rd Baron.”
Unexpectedly, she blushed slightly. “I knew your uncle very well,” she said, with a soft smile. “In fact, a marriage was proposed between us, but he preferred Myrtle Horncastle and I preferred Arthur Nicholson, so it all worked out very well in the end. Although it was a pity she had no children. Not for you, of course, but a marriage without children is a strange, half-formed beast, like a meal without meat. We were very happy when Tess came along. But do tell me about this young man with the strange name — Ulric Frith. Lady Tarvin writes to her sister, the countess, of course, but Mr Frith has been but little mentioned. What sort of man is he?”
How on earth to answer that question? Should he tell the truth? But really, there was no need to trouble them with the details. With a possible marriage at least nine months away, anything could happen. “He loves horses,” he said finally. “Tess has been riding with him every day.”
