Heads craned to see the new owner. “Better than they women,” one of the men said. “This were a respectable street before they come along.”
“There will be nothing like that in future,” Edward said soothingly. “Miss Nicholson is the daughter of Lady Alice Nicholson, sister to the Earl of Rennington.”
There were murmurs of approval at this news, and Edward felt it was safe to retreat to the house. He had never seen the main part of it, but he knew that it contained many valuable furnishings and works of art, so he was not surprised to find it well appointed. Its glory was somewhat faded, leaving it looking rather shabby and neglected, but he detected the hand of a person of excellent taste in the arrangements.
There was a great crowd of people in the hall, including some that Edward did not recognise. The Scotsman was waving his arms about excitedly, his accent suddenly impenetrable. An unknown gentleman, for some reason carrying a small child in his arms, was laughing at him, while a small, dark woman talked back in an accent just as strong. Tess was watching the three of them in bemusement, while the servants milled about shifting boxes and bags and umbrellas.
“Lord Tarvin, come and meet my cousin, Jeanie,” the Scotsman called. “She’s frae Edinburgh, too. And this is her husband, Rycroft of Melverley, in Leicestershire. The wee man is Archie, their son.”
Rycroft inched through the mayhem to Edward’s side, shifting the child onto one hip to offer his hand. “Delighted to meet you, Lord Tarvin. We have been hearing all about your exploits with tree-climbing and the like. Quite an adventure!”
“It was indeed. But what brings you north? You are a long way from Leicestershire.”
“My wife brings me north,” he said with a grin. “Finding that Cousin Sandy was fixed in Yorkshire for a while longer, Jeanie decided she would like to take the sea air at Scarborough. Then, when a cook was needed, she brought her skill with dumplings to Pickering.”
“Mrs Rycroft is to cook for us? Surely we can eat at an inn? I do not like to think of her trapped in the kitchen.”
“There is nothing she likes better,” Rycroft said. “In fact, if ever she disappears at Melverley, I know precisely where to look for her. We have assigned the best room to you, Lord Tarvin. May I show you the way?”
“If young Archie will not mind being taken away from his mama.”
“So long as he is carried by someone, even Papa, he is as good as gold. He only protests when he is put down. This way.”
The room was surprisingly masculine. He had expected a former brothel to be strongly feminine, and some of the other bedchambers were decidedly so, from the glimpses he caught of floral wallpapers and delicate bed hangings. His room, however was almost unrelievedly sombre in tone, apart from a garish swathe of pink fabric adorning the bed.
“What do you make of it, Deakin?” he said, finding the valet busy unpacking evening clothes. “Strange place, is it not?”
“I’ve been in stranger,” the valet said. “Kitchen seems to be running smoothly, anyway.”
“My wife keeps a very orderly kitchen,” Rycroft said a little smugly. “Most houses have the principal rooms at the front, but this seems to be the best room, and the most appropriate for a lord, so you have a view over the gardens.”
“And the coach house,” he said, glancing out of the window and recognising the apple tree he had climbed. “Quieter at the back, too. Where have you put everyone else?”
“Miss Nicholson has the middle room at the front, with the Edgertons to one side and Sandy to the other. Mrs Rycroft and I are next door to you.”
“And Mr Neate?”
Rycroft laughed. “We were told he would make his own arrangements. He will eat his dinner here, but after that he may well disappear to one of the inns for a spell to listen to the locals talking. He is a very good listener, apparently.”
The afternoon passed with Tess and her maid walking from room to room, looking about and declaring that they could notice nothing missing. Indeed, it seemed as though there was hardly a space anywhere on mantels or shelves or sideboards where another piece might be inserted. Even a small display cabinet of pill boxes, small, portable and valuable, was full.
Captain Edgerton walked behind the ladies with his notebook, but there was nothing to write down. They finished in the principal room, a rather handsome saloon fitted up in a style fashionable some twenty years earlier.
“It is strange,” Tess said. “This house is excessively well furnished, yet I never noticed it when I was here before pretending to be a housemaid. My eyes were constantly fixed on the floor — the rugs to be swept, the wood to be mopped and the fireplaces! Oh, the time I spent on my knees before those fireplaces. Those I know intimately! But the mantel above was not my responsibility and so I never looked at it. But that is a very beautiful ormolu clock. My uncle has one rather similar, although surrounded by lions, not elephants. I have never seen an elephant. Is it a good likeness, Captain Edgerton? You must have seen plenty in India.”
“Yes, it is rather a good likeness, and the monkeys, too. The ear is not quite right for the Indian species, though. The artist may have confused African with Indian elephants. It is still an exquisite clock. And still here, along with everything else, seemingly. It does not appear that Mrs Mayberry and her nieces were light-fingered. Even the cash box in the room above the coach house retains the full amount you reported. It seems we shall have no reason to pursue the widow,” he added sadly.
“Ye’ll have enough to do without chasing round after people who don’t want to be found,” Sandy said.
“Oh, they will have set up in business somewhere,” Edgerton said. “They would not be hard to find. However, it is not myprincipal concern just now. There are Mr Nicholson’s papers to be gone through, to see if we can discover any murderous enemies in his life. Apart from that, it is six weeks since Miss Peach disappeared, and I cannot now believe that she will simply turn up one day, none the worse for her adventure.”
“That is a long time to take up the chase,” Edward said. “What can you do that you have not already done?”
“I can begin again, with a new eye,” Edgerton said. “I thought at first that she had simply gone away on her own, and was living incognito somewhere in her quiet, unobtrusive way. Whatever she was about, it would not keep her away for ever, I should have thought, and so I supposed that one day she would simply reappear, and laugh at us for worrying about her. But I cannot deny that I am now very concerned for her welfare. So I shall talk again to everyone who had dealings with her, and see if I can prod loose any useful memories.” He sighed. “I am not hopeful, however. Not after all this time.”
“Poor Peachy,” Mrs Edgerton said sadly.
***
