“Just this — that the murderer was not a passing madman, but a very clever man who planned his wickedness carefully. I doubt he came in by a window, not when there are four doors into the basement. The garden door with the broken bolt, perhaps, and then straight up the service stairs to the great hall. Then he collected the axe from where he had hidden it, and—”
“Wait! He had hidden the axe somewhere? Why? And where?”
“Why? So that it would be waiting for him when he came to fulfil his wickedness. As to where, I imagine he took it from Eustace’s display and then slipped it into one of the urns.”
“Urns?”
“Giant Chinese vases. There are two of them on the stairs, one on either side of the display. A good place to hide a weapon, do you not think? Then up the stairs to Papa’s room, do the deed while he sleeps, drop the axe and back out the way he came in.”
“It could’ve happened that way, I suppose,” Tom said thoughtfully. “But I still think a madman is—”
“No!”she cried. “It was planned, I tell you. I know it, Tom. And that is better than an unpredictable madman… who might come back at any moment.”
“That broken latch has been fixed,” Tom said, “and the bolt on the garden door, and all the locks changed. No one can break in now.”
“Not at Corland, but a madman might go anywhere. No, the murderer was a man with a specific grudge against Papa. He wanted my father dead and heisdead, and it is better by far to leave it at that.”
***
Edward lay contentedly in bed, watching Nellie dress. She never liked to wander about in her nightgown, so as soon as she rose, she began methodically to don her clothes. He enjoyed watching her deft fingers tying and buttoning and straightening. Especially the stockings — there was something mesmerising about a woman’s stockings. Nellie’s concentration was intense as she carefully slid them up her legs and tied the bows, and he loved that brief glimpse of leg as the shift was pulled up. He had seen Nellie without a stitch on, but that quick view of leg as she dressed was still appealing.
“I suppose you’ll be off straight after breakfast, as usual,” she said, looking up from her work momentarily.
“It is Tuesday morning,” he said, although not without regret. “Sunday night and Monday night, that is all I can spare.”
“You don’t really get your money’s worth from me, do you?” she said with a throaty chuckle. “This house, the servants, the food and drink, pin money, the occasional present — which Iappreciate very much, you may be sure — it must cost a fortune, yet I only see you two nights out of seven.”
For about three seconds he was tempted, for he was only human and a man, after all. But one could not spend every minute in bed, and the prospect of more hours of Nellie’s inane chatter was unappealing. One did not engage a mistress for her wit or ability to discourse on the state of the world, but a little conversation above the banal would be welcome.
“I am occupied for the other five nights. As a baron, I have a position in society to maintain.”
“You could come here afterwards. Or maybe an afternoon now and then. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with myself the rest of the time, and it’s not as if you have a wife to object to you keeping a mistress.”
“Thank heavens!” he said with a quick laugh. “You could spend my money. Go shopping and let me have the bills next time I visit. Go out with your friends. You do have friends, I take it?”
“Oh yes. I have friends,” she said, with a wry laugh. “Lots of friends since you set me up here. Some of them are even respectable.”
“There you are, then,” he said. “Keep yourself busy for five days a week, but be here for me from Sunday to Tuesday. Is it not the ideal arrangement? And the best of it is that my mother knows nothing about it.”
He laughed again. Oh yes, life was just perfect!
***
The earl’s summons was definitely ominous. The whole family was to attend, not just Tess, and Uncle Charles was not one for dramatic meetings, so there was clearly something intriguing afoot.
Tess found the darkest corner of the library to hide in, sheltered by one of Eustace’s precious suits of armour. With her black gown, she was confident of passing unnoticed as the rest of the family arrived. Walter was the first, but that must have been by the earl’s wish, too, for he was waiting for him by the study door.
“Am I late?” Walter said.
“No, no, not at all,” Uncle Charles said, his voice unsteady. “You are early, but that is all to the good. The more time we have before the others get here, the better.”
“Whatever has happened?” Walter said. “It must be something dreadful, I am sure. I have never seen you so agitated.”
Then he was inside the study, the door closing behind him, and Tess heard no more, but those few words were alarming enough.
Gradually, the rest of the family arrived in the library. Tess’s mother was amongst the first, on Aunt Caroline’s arm, the two sitting silently side by side as they waited. Then cousins Kent and Olivia, Kent joking as always, his ill-timed wit rousing Olivia’s ire.
Olivia had chosen to be tearful today in anticipation of bad news. Once Tess and Olivia had been the best of friends, and they still shared a bedroom and sometimes clothes, too, but gradually they had grown apart. Olivia was destined for London, the season and a splendid marriage into her own rank, whereas Tess has no such expectations. Not that she wanted a splendid marriage, or any marriage at all, but as the two girls had realised their very different destinies, they had drifted apart.
