Briar Patch (22 page)

‘Damn . . .' Tom had been angry with her, partly because he was angry and partly because he'd known that he wanted to do exactly as she'd asked – just go and leave everything, run away somewhere he could forget all the grief and hurt. Except that he knew it wasn't possible. ‘Trouble follows wherever you go . . .'

‘What did you say?'

Tom turned to look at Mary Jane. He hadn't noticed her there, standing just behind him. She was carrying a jug of milk and had come from the dairy. She looked pretty with her soft hair blowing over her face and her cheeks pink from the wind. ‘I was merely talking to myself.'

‘They say that's the first sign.' Mary Jane gave him a mischievous look. It was some time since she'd flirted with him and Tom realized that she was beginning to feel better. ‘I've heard there's a dance on in the church hall this Saturday. It's the Christmas dance, Tom, and everyone goes. Will you take me? It's been a long time since we went anywhere.'

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ‘We might buy you a pretty dress ready made from the shop in Wisbech tomorrow. You'd like a new dress for the dance, wouldn't you?'

‘Oh Tom, if I hadn't got the milk jug I'd hug you,' Mary Jane cried. ‘You spoil me. You're the best husband a girl ever had.'

Tom remembered the way he'd kissed Roz half an hour earlier, the passion he'd felt and the longing to make love to her. Shame washed over him and he turned away from Mary Jane's bright smile.

‘Go on up to the house and put the kettle on. I've just got to finish feeding the stock and then I'll be up for my tea.'

Mary Jane went off smiling to herself. She was so easy to please and he was a brute to wish that he was free to leave her and his parents. They couldn't manage without him. It was one of the reasons he hadn't gone rushing off to confront Philip Thornton. He might want to punish the man who had killed his sister, but if Tom were dead or in prison his family would be left to struggle alone.

Tom had arranged to buy another ten acres of pasture the other side of the stream. It was right on the edge of Harry Rushden's land and Tom was surprised that he hadn't bought it up before now. The owner had come to him personally and asked if he wanted to buy. He'd waited while Tom got the money together when he could almost certainly have asked more from Rushden. He hadn't known why until he was about to sign the papers.

‘There's a condition to the sale,' the lawyer had told Tom when he went into his office after his other business in Wisbech was done. ‘When you sell, you're not to let it go to Harold Rushden or Sir Philip Thornton.'

Tom paused with the pen in his hand. ‘I wouldn't sell to either of them – but why is Baxter set against them?'

‘He told me he had fallen out with them both at various times; that's why he sold to you for less than he could have got otherwise.'

‘I wondered about that. He's no need to worry. They've both been after my land but I told them to go to hell.'

‘Sign there then,' the lawyer told him. ‘You've got yourself a bargain, Mr Blake. Mr Baxter has more land he may be selling in another year or so. If you wanted to improve your holding I could probably arrange a loan for you, sir.'

‘A loan?' Tom hesitated. ‘I'm not sure about borrowing from the bank. If I've got some spare cash I'll probably buy what I can afford at the time. I'd like more land but I'll wait until I can pay.'

‘I thought that would be your answer, but it might be possible to raise money from a private source – all legal and with sufficient time to repay. It's up to you, of course, but you might like to give it some thought. If you want to be a successful businessman you sometimes have to take risks.'

‘Thank you. I'll give the idea some thought.'

Tom was deep in thought as he finished his chores. With any luck he'd have more money coming in next year than ever before. He could choose to make life easier for his mother and Mary Jane or he could press on and buy more and more land. Until he met Roz Tom had been willing to settle for a life tied to his father's land, working for his keep and a few pounds he got for selling the pigs he reared. After Dick's death the farm had been left to him to manage and he'd begun to realize there were ways of improving their income that didn't rely solely on working longer hours. He might be a rich man one day if he set his mind to it, but it still wouldn't be enough. He was just a farmer and Roz was gentry. Even if neither of them were married the gap was too wide.

A part of Tom knew that money was nothing without a good home life and all the things that went it, like love and children. He'd seen respect in the lawyer's eyes when he'd bought that ten acres and spoken of buying more when he could afford it. Perhaps respect in the community was the next best thing – and that meant he couldn't rush off in a temper and thrash Philip Thornton to an inch of his life without proof of his guilt. He would just have to wait until the right moment.

‘Attend the Christmas dance at the church hall?' Roz looked at her husband in surprise. ‘Why would you want to go there, Harry? We are holding a party for our friends here on Christmas Eve – and the long gallery is big enough for a few couples to dance if you wish it.'

‘Are you a snob, Roz?' Harry looked at her across the breakfast table. ‘Most of the farmers take their wives and families to the Christmas dance; it is a local tradition.'

‘My mother would never let Philip and I go – though we wanted to when we were younger.'

‘You're a married woman now. I wasn't intending to ask your mother to come with us.'

‘She would be horrified.' Roz laughed. There was no reason why she should not go. She couldn't even be sure that Tom Blake would be there. ‘Yes, if you wish it, we shall go. I had no idea you liked dancing so much, Harry.'

‘I doubt very much that I'll dance,' he said and pushed his chair back. ‘I just like to mingle with the other farming families once in a while – and sometimes business is better done in a sociable atmosphere.'

‘Ah, I see.' Now she understood. ‘Why didn't you say it was business in the first place? About Christmas, Harry. Mama is dining with Julia and Philip on the day itself. I asked her to come and stay for a few days afterwards – is that all right?'

‘You know I never interfere with your arrangements as far as Mama is concerned.' Harry went to the door and glanced back. ‘I met Madeline and Raymond in Wisbech a few days ago. She asked me why I was avoiding them and I invited them to the Christmas Eve party. I suspect he may have cheated at cards the last night they were here, but I can't cut them completely.'

‘As long as they do not intend to stay over Christmas?'

‘Apparently your brother has asked them for Christmas Day,' Harry said and frowned. ‘I tried to warn your brother about Raymond but he was very abrupt and practically told me to mind my own business. He's a fool if he gets too involved because he could lose all he gained through marrying Julia. You should warn him – or her.'

‘I saw Julia a day or so ago but I'll talk to Philip next week if you think that would help. Julia is so wrapped up in the child that I would rather not distress her.'

‘I should imagine it would distress her more if Philip lost the estate.'

Roz stared at the door as it closed behind him. She could hardly bear the thought of speaking to her brother; after her meeting with Tom Blake the previous day she was almost certain that Philip had killed Carrie.

The idea that her brother had killed the mother of his child made Roz sick to her stomach. If he'd killed her at the cottage he must have moved Carrie's body to where it had been found. Even the thought of what he'd done was so horrifying that she wanted to vomit. It would serve her brother right if he did lose everything at the card table – and yet the consequences for Julia and Roz's mother were not to be contemplated.

Roz rang the bell for the maid to clear the breakfast dishes, then she ran upstairs to change. She would ride over to the hall and see if her brother was about.

‘Julia is resting,' Philip told her as she was shown into the study. Some thick ledgers lay on the desk before him. He closed the one nearest to him with a snap as his sister entered. ‘You may go up to her if you wish, but don't tire her.'

‘Actually I came to see you, Philip.'

‘Why?' He got to his feet and stood in front of the window, gazing out at the gardens. ‘You don't think that I had anything to do with that wretched girl's death, do you?'

‘Now why I should I think that, Philip? You told me you wanted to talk. Is there some reason why I might suspect you?'

‘No, damn you. You believed her lies before . . .'

‘I didn't tell anyone, did I? It would have hurt Julia – and mother, because Julia would never have married you if she'd known. Does she know about you and Madeline? I saw you together in Wisbech.'

‘Shut your stupid mouth or I might shut it for you.'

‘Is that why you killed Carrie – to stop her talking? Had she seen you meeting Madeline? Carrie wasn't daft. If she thought you had another lover she might have told someone about her baby's father.'

‘I warned you.' Philip shouted and suddenly lunged at her, striking her across the face. Roz recoiled, a hand to her cheek. ‘If you breathe a word of your lies to anyone, I'll make you wish you'd never been born.'

Suddenly it was all clear to Roz and she knew just what had happened.

‘You were meeting Madeline at the cottage. Carrie turned up and you had to get rid of her – is that how it was?' Roz saw the colour leave his face and sensed she was right. ‘I'm not the only one who knows Carrie was there that afternoon, Philip. Someone saw her enter the cottage and your horse was outside. You think you've got away with it but one of these days someone will discover the truth about you.'

‘Damn you, be quiet!' Philip grabbed Roz by the throat. Roz kicked his shins and jerked back just as someone knocked at the door. He swore and let her go. ‘Bitch! I should've taught you a lesson a long time ago.'

Roz turned away, a hand to her throat as one of the servants entered.

‘Madam is asking for you, sir. She feels unwell and thinks she may need the doctor.'

‘I'm coming. Get out,' Philip snapped, glaring at his sister as the door closed behind the unfortunate maid. ‘One word of this to anyone and I'll make you sorry.'

‘More threats, Philip? You can go to the devil for all I care.'

Roz left the room and ran through the hall, ignoring the curious looks of the servants. Nothing went unnoticed in a house like this, even if you were discreet. Her brother was a brute and any doubt she'd had of his guilt had gone. If the maid had not come at that moment, he might have killed her.

Harry entered her bedroom as she was dressing for dinner that evening. He seemed pleased about something and moved towards her eagerly then stopped, his eyes narrowing.

‘Is that a bruise on your cheek?'

‘Does it show too much? I've tried to cover it, Harry – but if it looks awful perhaps you should go to the dance on your own this evening.'

‘There's a mark on your neck too. Who did that to you, Roz?'

‘I can cover my neck with lace and my pearls, but I can't do much about this.' Roz touched her cheek. ‘I had an argument with Philip this morning . . .'

‘Your brother hit you?' Harry's mouth thinned. ‘Damn him. I'll give him a thrashing.'

‘No, please, Harry.' Roz reached out to him. ‘Julia isn't well. If you quarrel with Philip it may upset her.'

‘Be damned to Julia. You don't expect me to stand by and do nothing after this? I'm a man not a weakling, Roz. I protect what is mine.'

‘Yes, Harry. I'm sure you could thrash Philip – and to be honest, he deserves it. He is violent and this is not the first time he has hurt me, but Julia is vulnerable and I should hate it if she lost the child. I dare say he will apologize when he calms down.'

‘He'll grovel or I'll give him a taste of his own medicine, Roz. You know I'm not a violent man, but you're my wife. I've no wish to harm Julia but if he hit you for warning him about gambling he's out of control.'

‘It wasn't just about Sir Raymond . . .' Roz said and then wished she hadn't. ‘Philip was the father of Carrie Blake's child, not my father. Something I said made him imagine I was accusing him of . . .'

‘Her murder?' Harry frowned. ‘I know there was insufficient evidence but there was an open verdict. People are talking about murder. You don't think it was Philip?'

‘No, of course not,' Roz said quickly, too quickly. ‘The magistrate said there was insufficient evidence. No one knows if it was murder – and there's no evidence against Philip. She might have been seeing someone else. I know there were gypsies in the area at the time because I saw them when I was out riding.'

‘Why would a gypsy want to kill a girl like Carrie Blake? She was harmless, if a bit slow. Only an evil bugger would murder a girl like that – and if Philip did that he deserves more than a thrashing.'

‘I shouldn't have told you.' Roz caught at his arm. ‘Please don't do anything foolish, Harry.'

‘He's not getting away with what he did to you, Roz,' Harry said quietly. ‘I'll wait until after Christmas because I know you want to see Julia and your mother – but after that I'll have it out with him. If he killed that girl he must give himself up, Roz.'

‘Think of the scandal, Harry. Mother would never hold up her head again.'