A Gentleman of Fortune (21 page)

A memory stirred in Dido’s mind – something about Mrs Neville’s last airing – about it finishing with her talking to the constable. She looked rather fearfully at her friend who seemed all of a sudden to have become quite alarmingly small and frail. Then, turning to the shopkeeper, she demanded to know what she expected to find in the reticule.

‘Something that belongs to me, madam. Something this lady had no business taking away with her.’

Scarcely able to believe that this scene was taking place, Dido looked the shopkeeper in the eye and said – with all the dignity she could command – ‘Are you accusing us of stealing from you, Mrs Pickthorne?’

‘Not you, Madam, no,’ was the sturdy reply. ‘You weren’t by when she did it. You,’ she said, returning Dido’s level stare, ‘were at the front of the shop – listening to other folk talking.’ Dido blushed. ‘But, if the lady’d just open up the bag, you’ll see if I’m telling the truth.’

Without saying a word, Mrs Neville bent her head over her green and yellow knitted reticule and began to fumble with the bit of ribbon that held it closed. She pulled it open. And there, clear to see, even in the dark shop, was a length of the best white French lace.

‘Joseph!’ called the woman, leaning back into the darkness behind the counter. ‘Joseph, run out and fetch the constable.’

‘But,’ cried Dido in dismay. ‘I am sure it was a mistake. It must have been a mistake.’

‘Well Madam, we shall let the constable decide about that, shall we?’

Dido gripped the counter and experienced an alarming number of visions in the time that it took for Joseph to clatter down the stairs at the back of the shop. There was a vision of Flora crying, ‘A thief? You were caught in company with a thief?’ – And there was one of an assize court judge pronouncing sentence – And then one of Mrs Neville, in her crisp white cap, clutching her knitted reticule as she boarded a transport ship bound for Botany Bay…

‘Please,’ she said weakly, ‘please, there is no need to trouble the constable.’

Mrs Pickthorne made no reply. Mrs Neville only stood with her eyes upon the floor, saying nothing. And the shock seemed almost to have robbed Dido of her faculties: the only clear thought in her head being that this was an example of Mrs Neville’s ‘confusion’.

Dido broke off as the maid announced a visitor. Mr Lomax was come and, since Flora was from home, she must receive him alone.

There was no little confusion attending the meeting, for she had not seen him since they parted yesterday at Mrs Neville’s door and there had been that in his manner then which spoke, if not quite anger, then at least a very strong disapproval of her behaviour. She met him now with heartfelt, but rather nervous thanks and raised her eyes anxiously to his face.

He looked very grave as he took a seat and gazed down at the breakfast room floor.

‘I hope,’ he said, ‘that you have recovered from the shock you sustained yesterday.’

‘Oh yes, thank you. I am quite recovered.’

There was a silence and Dido longed to begin talking of something else, but somehow she could not. She knew that more ought to be said about the situation in which he had discovered her; for there had been little opportunity for discourse yesterday while Mrs Neville was with them. But she was not entirely sure what it was that must be said. She certainly did not wish to admit that she had been at fault; though she half-suspected that she
ought
to.

She tried to thank him again, but he raised a hand to stop her.

‘Miss Kent,’ he began, ‘I perhaps presume too much upon the friendship which I hope exists between us. But I cannot help but speak. It was, if I may say so, an ill-judged undertaking to accompany Mrs Neville into a shop.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed quietly. ‘It was.’ And then discovered, rather to her dismay, that she could not stop there. She just could not. For, painful as it was to suffer his disapproval, it was even more painful to admit that she was wrong – or to accept unjust criticism. ‘At least,’ she said, ‘if I had
known
of the danger, it would have been very ill-judged indeed. But, please consider, Mr Lomax, that was not the case. I had no reason to suppose that the outing would end as it did.’

His gravity deepened. ‘Pardon me,’ he said, ‘but I understood you to say, when we talked at Brooke, that Mrs Neville’s daughter had given you a warning.’

‘No,’ she protested. ‘No. Not quite a warning. She had only mentioned in a general way that her mother was confused and forgetful.’

Mr Lomax closed his eyes and shook his head with a pained expression. ‘That should have been…’ he began, but checked himself. ‘It is to be regretted,’ he said more calmly, ‘that that general warning was not sufficient to put you upon your guard.’

‘But it could not put me on my guard, Mr Lomax,’ she said. She was becoming a little angry herself now. He was being unreasonable and she could not help but justify herself. ‘How could it put me on my guard? For the daughter’s words were entirely contradicted by the mother’s demeanour. She showed no signs of confusion or forgetfulness.’

‘That I believe is common among individuals who suffer from the…weakness of character which Mrs Neville has demonstrated. In all outward shows a lady or gentleman may be moral and rational, and yet have burning within this wicked desire to posses what belongs to others.’

Dido made no protest against that. She did not try to defend Mrs Neville with any claim of a ‘mistake’ having taken place. It would have been impossible to do so since, after she had been safely removed from the haberdasher, a search of her reticule had revealed two pairs of new kid gloves, a cameo brooch and even a toy whistle…

‘I could not know,’ she protested.

‘But why were you so very determined to take an elderly lady upon an outing which you knew neither her maid nor her daughter would be easy about?’

Dido blushed. ‘Because,’ she began a little uncomfortably. ‘Because it all looked so very strange. You must remember, Mr Lomax, that I did not know what the lady was capable of. I saw only a harmless…a
seemingly
harmless old lady, whose daughter prevented her from going out or talking to visitors. You must grant me, that that had a very strange…a very suspicious appearance.’

He stood up and began to walk about the hearth rug in some agitation. ‘I regret, Miss Kent, that the only thing I can grant is that you have determined upon suspecting Clara Neville. You discover that she left Knaresborough House on the night that her cousin died – and immediately you suspect her. She explains to you that she left to visit her mother; but you continue to suspect her. Why? It seems to me that the concern of a dutiful daughter is explanation enough for her actions.’

‘But she lied!’ The words burst out before she could stop them. She forced herself to speak more calmly. ‘Why should she lie about only visiting her mother?’

‘For two good reasons,’ he countered. ‘Because of the guilt she felt on leaving her cousin alone; and because she was ashamed to admit the cause of her concern for her mother. What other reason did you have to suspect her?’

‘She associates with – she employs – a woman of very doubtful character.’

‘Consider the poor lady’s dilemma. With such a secret to hide about her mother, she dare not employ a decent maid. Her only recourse would be to engage the services of such a one as Jenny White who no one else will take – and then to pay her well to hold her tongue.’

‘Yes, yes I grant you, I can see that
now
. But this is not a fair argument. I did not know – I could not know – about Mrs Neville’s shocking behaviour. You cannot use against me a circumstance which has only just come to light. I only saw that Clara Neville had crept away from Knaresborough House without the consent of her cousin. And that she kept her mother almost a prisoner.’

He sighed and passed a hand across his face. ‘And what do you think now? Do you still harbour these suspicions against Miss Neville?’

Dido hesitated. It was a question to which a large part of her night-time musings had been devoted. ‘I do not know…I cannot help but wonder what it was she was discussing with Mr Vane at church – what it was that she wished him to keep secret.’

‘I think I can supply an answer to that question. I have made enquiries and I discover that Mr Vane is one of those who has suffered in the past from Mrs Neville’s…weakness of character. There were, I believe, several bottles of eye tincture taken from his shop.’

‘Oh!’

‘Well? Have you anything else to say against the poor lady?’

‘Oh well…perhaps she is innocent…But…’

‘But?’

‘I do not quite know why it is,’ said Dido frowning, ‘but there is something…I feel as if
somethin
g
she has told me is wrong…’

He cast his eyes up to the ceiling as he endeavoured to keep his temper. He had never before met with a woman so very determined to pursue her own ideas. He had always considered himself a very calm man, but here was a test even of his patience. ‘But you will not trouble Miss Neville, or her mother, with more questions?’ he asked at last.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I shall try not to. But as yet I cannot decide where I ought to look next. You see, if Miss Neville is innocent, then I must admit I am no nearer discovering the truth than I ever was.’

He sat down and regarded her very earnestly. ‘Miss Kent,’ he began with a renewed effort at calm. ‘It is very much to your credit I am sure that you should wish to spare your cousin pain by proving her friend innocent. But I cannot help but wonder whether your affection and concern are not getting the better of your considerable powers of reason in this case. After all, Mr Lansdale may well be the guilty party. He had the opportunity of committing the deed and he was the only person to benefit from the lady’s death.’

‘Yes, I do not deny any of this.’

‘And yet you continue to defend Mr Lansdale.’

‘No. I do not defend him,’ she cried. ‘I agree with you that he may be guilty. I only say that his being guilty cannot be a sufficient explanation for all that has happened at Knaresborough House.’

He sighed at her stubbornness. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘since we last talked I have learnt something which I believe rather supports his guilt. I asked Lady Carrisbrook about the line in your mysterious letter. And she is certain that it is taken from
Romeo and Juliet
.’

‘Ah yes!’ said Dido eagerly. ‘“The world is not their friend, nor the world’s laws…” And do you believe that it is young lovers to whom the poet refers?’

‘Of whom would it be more appropriate than Romeo and Juliet – or any pair of lovers suffering opposition from their families?’

‘And you believe the writer of that letter meant to tell me that Mr Lansdale was guilty – but to plead that this was a special case, that the extremity of his situation excused him?’

Mr Lomax raised his brows. ‘It is something which I believe you should consider,’ he said.

Dido smiled. ‘I have considered it, Mr Lomax,’ she said. ‘But, you see, there is a difficulty. I have read the play; and I find that the words are not spoken about the play’s principals at all. Those lines are spoken of an
apothecary
. It is the apothecary from whom Romeo procures poison that is said to be unfriended by the world and its laws.’