A Gentleman of Fortune (10 page)

Meanwhile Miss Bevan herself was beginning to suspect her visitor’s desultory interest in waltz tunes and Irish airs.

‘Miss Kent,’ she said gravely, looking up from the instrument, to gaze very directly at Dido. ‘I would by no means wish you to think me ungrateful for your visit. I am very happy to see you. However,’ the hint of a smile flashed across her pale face, ‘I cannot help but feel there is some particular reason for your calling – some motive for your seeking me out alone.’ She paused, her brows raised questioningly. ‘If there is some such motive, I beg you will bring it forward immediately, for I do not think we shall have this room to ourselves for very long.’

Dido stared, disconcerted. Here was a much more astute observer than little Miss Prentice, or any of the others she had so far questioned. Her mind raced in search of excuses…

And then, all at once, she decided to abandon pretence. She would state her case honestly – and see how her honesty was received…

She confessed her purpose – her desire of discovering the truth behind the rumours which were circulating about Mr Lansdale – watching her companion’s face very closely as she did so. There was certainly a little start from Miss Bevan when the subject was introduced, a look of consciousness; but perhaps that arose only from shame at her connection with Mrs Midgely, for, although Dido took care not to mention that lady’s name, Miss Bevan could not help but know her guardian was the culprit.

However, by the time the explanation was complete, Mary was smiling composedly. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I wish you success with your enquiries, Miss Kent. And I am very glad that you have told me of your purpose. For now, if I happen to see you going about this business, I shall not think you guilty of idle curiosity!’

‘Thank you.’ Dido laughed. ‘For, though I know that I am frequently guilty of curiosity, I sincerely hope that it is
never
idle.’

‘And now,’ said Mary, sitting down in one of the straight-backed chairs and folding her hands neatly in her lap. ‘I am entirely at your service. You may catechise me as you choose! How can I help you in this very serious undertaking?’

Dido considered for a moment and then began with: ‘Miss Prentice is certain that Mr Henderson visited the Lansdales on the evening that Mrs Lansdale died. Do you know if she is remembering correctly?’

Miss Bevan frowned thoughtfully. ‘I remember her calling out that she had seen him walking to the door,’ she said very precisely.

‘But you did not see him yourself?’

‘No, he was gone when I came to the window.’

‘I see. Did you know that Mr Henderson was acquainted with Mrs Lansdale?’

‘No, I did not. But, my dear Miss Kent, I do not know anything about Mr Henderson.’

‘Oh? But you were a little acquainted with his daughters, I believe?’

Mary looked uncomfortable. ‘A very little,’ she said with a slight blush. ‘I should not have known them of course – there had been no introduction. But somehow, I hardly know how, we became a little acquainted.’

Dido looked at her in some surprise. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Did you visit the young ladies?’

‘Oh no.’ Mary looked down at her hands. ‘I could not visit them because…Mrs Midgely would not have liked them. But I would meet them occasionally when they were walking in the park – and we would sometimes take a turn together.’

‘I see.’ Dido longed to know why Mrs Midgely should have disliked the girls, but it would be too impertinent to ask. ‘And what kind of young ladies were they? Miss Prentice says that she thinks they were pretty.’

‘Dear Miss Prentice! I doubt she ever saw their faces! But I do not suppose that she would ever call anyone
ill-looking
.’

‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Dido with a smile.

‘They were very accomplished girls,’ Mary continued thoughtfully. ‘Quite remarkably accomplished. They all three spoke very pretty French – and I think Miss Margaret had a grounding in Italian too. And Miss Henderson seemed to have a
very
sound understanding of music.’

‘I am surprised that their father could have afforded them such an education. I understand that he was living in rather straitened circumstances while he was here in Richmond.’

Mary bit her lip. ‘Is that the opinion of Miss Prentice?’ she asked.

‘Yes. The circumstance of his giving no dinners and keeping only evening company did not escape her observation.’

‘No, I imagine it would not. And she is quite correct – there were a great many evening parties.’ As she spoke these last words a strange look came over Miss Bevan’s face. It was difficult to make it out clearly in the gloomy parlour, but it seemed almost to be…distaste. She clasped her arms about her as if she was cold. ‘At these parties I do not doubt Mr Henderson was well able to display the girls’
accomplishments
.’

‘You think he was very anxious to get his daughters married?’

‘What would you suppose to be the motive of a man who has three unmarried women on his hands?’

‘I would indeed suppose it to be matrimony. But…’ Dido studied her companion rather anxiously. She was sitting with her arms clasped across her breast, her eyes troubled and downcast. ‘But the idea does not disgust me as it seems to disgust you.’

‘I am sorry,’ replied Mary, unclasping her arms and trying to smile. ‘In such matters anything contrived or mercenary…’

‘You suspect that Mr Henderson was mercenary and worldly in his schemes?’

Mary coloured. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I believe he was…But I am being foolish! No doubt, Miss Kent, I am merely reminded of my own situation. Like me the Henderson girls were poor and must rely upon their charms and their accomplishments to make their fortunes.’

Dido was concerned by her look of abhorrence. Such extreme delicacy did not promise well for the future happiness of a girl so ill-provided. ‘Marriage,’ she said gently, ‘is generally considered to be the pleasantest preservative from want for women of small fortune.’

‘Yes.’ Mary unclasped her arms, seemed to resolve upon appearing unconcerned. ‘And sometimes I am inclined to agree with the general opinion.’

‘But sometimes you disagree with it?’

‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘sometimes I think that it is better to be a governess – better to be even a teacher in a school – than to…marry a man one does not care for.’

‘I see.’ Dido considered this carefully for several minutes – and remembered too what she had learnt of Miss Bevan’s ‘soul’ in the library. ‘But,’ she said at last, ‘what if one does care for the man? What if one cares for him very much indeed?’

Miss Bevan met her gaze, with an appearance, at least, of calm. ‘To marry for love,’ she said quietly, ‘is a different matter entirely.’

‘Flora,’ said Dido at they dawdled over the sunny breakfast table next morning, ‘what do you know of the Henderson girls who used to live at Knaresborough House?’

‘Nothing at all. I have told you before, the family was already gone from Richmond when we came down from town.’

‘So I suppose you cannot tell me why Mrs Midgely might have disliked them.’

‘Oh yes, I am sure I can tell you that!’ replied Flora eagerly. She set down her teacup. ‘They were, I daresay, pretty.’

‘And you think that was the cause of her dislike?’

‘Most certainly. She was a very jealous wife, you know. When the poor colonel was alive he was scarcely allowed to talk to a pretty girl. Mrs Midgely always avoided the acquaintance of pretty young women.’

‘This argues a very great degree of jealousy. Was she really so very bad?’

‘Oh yes! My dear Dido, you have to remember what a
very
fine man the colonel was – and he was several years younger than his wife, you know.’

‘I cannot remember him at all. I never met the man.’

‘Oh! But you have only to look at the portrait above the mantelpiece in Mrs Midgely’s parlour to see…’

‘To see what?’

‘Well, to see that he was a great deal more handsome than his wife ever was! It was the most ill-matched marriage in the world!’

‘Mrs Midgely was not pretty when she was young?’

Flora hesitated. ‘Her fortune was too good for her ever to be considered positively
plain
,’ she said.

‘I see.’

Dido lapsed into thoughtful silence over her egg-shells. And Flora watched her a little uneasily. ‘I am sure I do not understand why you should still be asking so many questions, Dido. Dear Mr Lomax is
quite sure
that Mrs Midgely can do Mr Lansdale no harm. He does not think that Mr Vane will go to the magistrate – and even if he does…’

‘Well, if, by any ill-chance he does, it might perhaps be a good thing if we were…a little prepared.’

‘Oh well!’ cried Flora, ‘I suppose it can do no harm. Though I declare it is a great shame that you should have so much trouble for nothing.’ She shrugged up her shoulders and began to open the letters which had been left beside her plate.

The room was quiet for a while except for Flora reading out the occasional snatch of news or invitation from her letters – none of which was of much interest to Dido, until the last item. And this was a letter from Sir Joshua Carrisbrook – a letter of supplication.

It seemed that the poor knight and his lady were so plagued with a superfluity of strawberries that they must implore a party of their friends to come to their assistance. If only they would have the goodness to come, gather and eat as much of the troublesome fruit as they could, then they would be rewarded with spruce beer and a cold collation in the dining room of Brooke Manor.

‘So you see,’ smiled Flora, laying down the letter, ‘on Tuesday you will be able to see your delightful Mr Lomax again – and spend a whole day in his company!’

Dido, who had already thought as much herself, endeavoured to look as if the invitation was of no great importance to her. ‘It will be very pleasant to go to Brooke, I am sure,’ she said demurely. ‘I have a great desire to see the new Lady Carrisbrook and to discover whether she is so excessively young and beautiful as she is reported… And of course I shall be glad to see Mr Lomax too.’

Flora laughed and was about to say more, but fortunately for Dido, they were interrupted. The maid announced a visitor and, a moment later, Mrs Midgely hurried into the breakfast room – full of self-importance, and news.

‘My dear Mrs Beaumont, Miss Kent, have you heard? Have you heard what has happened?’

Dido and Flora stared blankly at their visitor. This morning she was dressed in pink, spotted muslin and there were also two spots of pink upon each cheek – one the product of art and one beside it which was the result of emotion.

‘Knaresborough House has been burgled,’ she announced, before they could even gratify her by admitting their ignorance.

‘Burgled!’ they both echoed.

It had occurred to Dido that the news might be connected with that house – though she could not have foreseen burglary. For a moment she was too lost in surprise to say more.

But, in a crisis, Flora could be relied upon to make a well-mannered reply. ‘Oh dear! Oh, how very distressing,’ she cried. ‘I do hope that Mr Lansdale has not lost anything of value.’

‘As to that,’ said Mrs Midgely reluctantly, ‘no, I do not believe that he has. For he was roused by a noise and found the man, Fraser, already in pursuit of the thieves.’ She frowned; two ill-natured little lines appeared above her nose. The spots of natural colour deepened. ‘I do not believe they took anything at all,’ she admitted.

But, thought Dido, she would dearly love to report that Mr Lansdale’s losses were heavy. ‘How did the thieves gain entrance to the house?’ she asked.

‘Through a window in the drawing room,’ said Mrs Midgely eagerly. ‘The window beside the front door. They broke open the catch upon it. And they left in the same way. When Mr Lansdale came into the room the window was wide open and, it seems, Fraser saw them escaping through it. Two big, rough-looking fellows, he says. And a great mess they had left behind them in the drawing room,’ she added brightly. ‘Drawers torn open and things thrown everywhere.’

‘Indeed?’ cried Dido. ‘And are you quite sure that they took nothing at all? What of the candlesticks? Were they not stolen?’

‘No, I do not think so.’

‘But they are of good, solid silver! Very valuable. Why would any thieves disregard such things and begin searching elsewhere? Unless…’ she stopped, frowning thoughtfully.

Neither of her companions took much notice of her question. They were both too occupied in either lamenting or rejoicing over the business. But, later that morning, when Mrs Midgely had hurried away to spread the glad tidings and Flora was shut up with her mantua-maker, Dido had the breakfast room to herself, and she was able to sit down quietly to consider it all.

She sat in the sun which was flooding through the french doors, fixed her eyes upon a robin bobbing about upon the veranda, and gave herself up to very serious thought.

First she considered Mrs Midgely’s glee over the burglary. It had been so very marked! She had positively delighted in it. What was one to make of this fresh evidence of the woman’s dislike of Henry Lansdale?

And the burglary itself was a very strange business! Why, Dido wondered, had such valuable goods as the candlesticks been left untouched? Was it possible that the two ‘big rough-looking fellows’ had come not simply to plunder but to search for something particular – something which they did not seem to have found?

Well, she thought with a little shake of her head, perhaps it would all prove to be no more than a thing of chance, unconnected with Mrs Lansdale’s death. After all, the very appearance of Knaresborough House spoke wealth loudly enough to tempt a thief. But somehow she could not quite think that it would prove to be a matter of chance. She could not quite forget Mrs Midgley’s description of the drawing room – the evidence that a search had been made.

She was becoming restless now. She must
do
something… Perhaps she would just walk out to look at Knaresborough House – call upon Miss Prentice, perhaps. There must be more discoveries to be made about this burglary.