He bowed over her hand, but failed to kiss it, his eyes searching hers. “A country squire is always weary.
Goodbye, young Harry.”
“Goodbye, Gerard. I hope it’s not another five years before we meet again.” A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hastily.
“As do I.” He assisted her up into the carriage, leaving a memory of his large warm hands at her waist.
The carriage traveled back along narrow country lanes where the red dog rose grew wild, a bright spot in the fields, but Harriet barely took note of it. Gerard had not been himself this morning. Whatever had happened last evening had disturbed him. She was frustrated not to know what it was, and found herself consumed with concern for him.
When they rounded the last broad sweep of driveway and Pendleton Manor appeared, a strange sight greeted them. The front doors stood open and several of the staff stood on the porch huddled in conversation. The butler patted one of the maids on the back who appeared to be in hysterics.
“What on earth…?” Father muttered as a servant rushed to put down the step and open the carriage door, his face pale with shock.
O’Hara hastily descended the steps to greet them. “It’s Mr. Everard. He’s ... passed away,” the butler said in a low voice.
“Oh good heavens.”Mama put her hands to her cheeks. “I thought him quite well yesterday. Poor Harrison, was it the apoplexy?”
O’Hara’s thin eyebrows rose. “He’s been murdered, Lady Edgerton. Sometime during the night. No one heard a thing. His manservant found him in his bed this morning.”
Mama gave a shriek. “Murdered? Is no one safe in their own bed?” She groped about in her reticule. “Call the Bow Street Runners!”
“Now my dear, the Runners patrol London’s environs. They will not come here.”
“Where are my smelling salts?”
Leonora broke into loud sobs. “I’m not going inside.”
“Nonsense, girl. We must.” Father whipped off his hat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Harriett? You’re the sensible one; take your mother and sister to the morning room, it’s snugger there, and arrange for a hot drink to be brought to them. Better yet, have a tot of brandy added.”
“I knew there’d be trouble when they put on that prize fight outside the town,” the butler said. “It brings cutthroats and ruffians to the area. Then there was that Luddite riot not far from here last week.”
Father put his arms behind his back and frowned in thought. “The local magistrate must be advised. Have you sent for the Parish constable?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Harriett shepherded her shuddering sister and mother into the morning room, her thoughts on Gerard. Had he come to Pendleton Manor last night? The thought drove a chill down her spine. Confused, she wondered if she should tell her father what she’d seen. She decided against it, aware that her loyalty may well be misplaced. She must speak to Gerard first. It would not be long before he made an appearance, for a servant had been dispatched to fetch him. Another had gone to the village for the magistrate and the doctor.
“Oh, this is too much,” Leonora, sobbed.
Revived by the hot drink laced with brandy, Mama patted her. “Hush Leonora, we shall return to London as soon as we can.”
“I can’t miss Almack’s. I have a voucher!”
“A man has died,” Father said quietly as he entered the room. “Your conduct is unseemly.”
Leonora hiccupped and bowed her head. Harriett felt unusually sympathetic toward her sister. At eighteen dances were of vital importance. She’d felt that way in her first Season, at least at the beginning of it. “Couldn’t Aunt Georgina come and fetch Leonora, Mama? It might be better if she did return to London.”
Mama sat up. “Why didn’t I think of that? Georgina lives but twenty miles away.”
“Oh Mama, could I?” Leonora dabbed her eyes.
“I’ll send a message with the groom,” her father said. “No sense in you being caught up in this.”
Leonora clapped her hands and smiled, just as the door opened and Gerard entered.
Harriett studied him carefully as he crossed the room. He looked pale, his brows drawn together in a frown.
“A bad business this,” her father said. “The magistrate is on his way from Temple Ewell, and the doctor, although all that can be done is to lay him out.” He put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder and lowered his voice. Harriett, the closest to them, just caught his words. “He’s in his bedchamber. An accurate knife blow, by the look of it, straight through the heart. Do you know of any enemies he might have had?”
“I don’t,” Garrard said. “He was good to his staff and didn’t get about much.”
Harriett thought he looked sorrowful, but not particularly surprised.
“We’ll have to wait and see what the magistrate makes of it,” her father said.
“I’ll go now and see Harrison.” Gerard strode from the room.
♥♥♥
Gerard stared down at Harrison, with a slow, head shake. His uncle lay where Gerard had placed him, still in his bloodstained nightshirt. He clenched and unclenched his hands. There would be an inquest. The truth could not emerge. He hurried to the elaborate piece of furniture with a myriad of drawers in the corner. Harrison’s words tugged at his heart and his hands shook as he located the catch.“If anything happens to me, Gerard, take this to London.”The hidden drawer swung open, and he snatched up the papers, his bitter fury firing him into action. “Your death will be avenged, Harrison.” Gerard turned swiftly and left the room.
