Mandy (3 page)

“Death
? Have them? Not human? How can that be?” Alfred asked nervously.

“I am sure, I do not know, and Lady Hatfield asked her man to investigate the next day, but when he did, he fled the ruins, claiming that someone rattling chains, someone not of this earth reached for him…”

“Chains? Rattling…chains?” Alfred stood up.

“Indeed, and as he mounted his horse to flee, he heard the sound of a man in agony as though he were being torn to pieces by wild animals.”

“This is dreadful…dreadful…” Alfred began pacing as he obviously envisioned the situation.

“
Precisely so.
Lady Hatfield ordered her servants to stay away from the ruins and she refuses to even drive by it during the day. She warned me not to go near the abbey—day or night.”

Alfred gulped as he digested this and finally said, “Pray, Amanda, I have no wish to disturb your peace of mind regarding my safe journey home.
I have decided to stay the
night at Sherborne.”

Mandy’s mouth dropped for that had not been the end result she had been looking for when she had freely embellished Lady Hatfield’s story.
“Stay here
? Oh, no Alfred, you could not wish to do such a thing. Why your father will be expecting you and worry.”

“Bosh,” said Alfred. “He will assume that I have remained the night at the Halls, and at any rate, you can send a lackey to him with a message.”

“Well, Alfred, really!” snapped Mandy, glaring at him. “If you are afraid to ride home in the dark, I certainly shall not put a man out to make the trip back and forth. It is outrageous. We do not treat our servants thusly at the Halls.”

“You have an odd set of behavior with regards to your servants.” He shook his head, “Ghosts and such creatures wouldn’t bother with a lackey, but a Speenham, well, stands to reason the fiendish things would want a crack at
me.”

She was so flabbergasted at this pronouncement and this way of thinking, that she did not immediately have a ready retort.

He rubbed his hands together and said, “Well, if you don’t wish to send a lackey, fine, but Amanda darling, do you think you could send for refreshments?”

Chapter Three

SIR OWEN TURNDALE wandered carefully down the deer path that dissected the woods surrounding the lily pond. His thoughts were at war with his heart.

He lusted heartily for the fair Celia, and making love to her had been more than satisfying. She was an exotic piece of fluff, but her letter seemed emboldened even considering their intimacy. What did she want?

He had decided to come earlier than she had prescribed, as she had made the mistake of threatening him in her missive.

He couldn’t allow her to go forward with her threats. That was clear. He knew in that moment he would do anything to stop her from interfering with his future.

He found her alone, and she had started on him immediately.

She had turned into a shrew right before his eyes. Where had the lovely seductress gone? He certainly hadn’t meant to raise his hand…

But, she had infuriated him with her threats. He had to keep her from telling Amanda about their affair. She had laughed at him. She had said she would tell Amanda that he had been making delicious love to her even as he courted Amanda. He couldn’t allow that, could he? He hadn’t meant to…

Now however, he had to get away unseen.

He pulled at his beaver hat and hurried to his horse, tethered to a tree not far away, but scarcely visible in the deep of the dark woods.

He had enjoyed his single life and the truth was he was not ready to relinquish it, but he had played hard and fast and found himself at
point non plus.
He was left with scarcely a sou to his name and Celia would ruin everything if she turned Amanda against him.

He winced as he saw himself raising that hand to Celia…he had turned into a monster.

Desperation had made him think he must shut her up. It was all he had cared about at that moment. He couldn’t allow her to ruin everything he had accomplished with Amanda Sherborne.

The lovely heiress seemed flattered, amused, intrigued and a touch enchanted with his efforts. It was a start, a good start.

He got on his horse and started for the house, but a sound in the forest bordering the drive, made him turn and peer into its thick growth of trees. He saw the figure of a man weaving down a trail.

He waited, frowning, uncertain. He didn’t want to be seen coming away from where he had left Celia.

He stood for nearly five minutes before he made up his mind to continue up to the house and visit with Amanda.

He took up his horse’s reins and started for the drive when he heard a horrified male shout for help.

What the devil? That was Ned Sherborne’s voice. He was almost sure of it—so it had been Ned making his way through the woods?

Had Ned seen him with Celia…or coming away from her? The thought made him blanch and once again he tethered his horse before running toward the short path that would take him toward the sound of Ned’s voice.

The day was certainly growing dimmer, but it was a clear summer evening and not yet dark. He saw Ned visibly distressed not more than twenty feet ahead and said, “Ho there, Sherborne…what is toward?” But the lad couldn’t speak, only point for he was standing over a very still young woman’s body.

It was Celia.

Her lovely form fitted yellow muslin gown was bright against the green grass. Ned’s face held a grim look of disbelief, as he seemed to find his voice and stammer, “‘Tis Celia…
she has been strangled.”

Sir Owen put the distance between him and the woman on the ground away with long hard strides. He bent and surveyed Celia’s still form, before he released a long breath and said grimly, “Indeed…my word…one can see the mark from a pair of strong large hands…” Sir Owen’s voice trailed off.

Ned shook his head, “Strong hands? But who…who would do such a horrible thing?” He ran a hand through his uncovered blond hair and nearly sobbed, “Oh my God.
Dead
. But why? Who would even have known she was going to be here? I was late getting to her as I thought she meant the other larger pond, went there first. I don’t understand any of this. It doesn’t make sense.”

Sir Owen did a quick scan of the surroundings and returned his attention to Celia’s lifeless form. He frowned and asked Ned, “May I ask, Lord Sherborne, was this statue in its present form when you first arrived on the scene?”

“Statue?” Ned asked absently, his eyes still staring at Celia with disbelief. “No, no, when I saw her lying there…I knocked it over in my haste to get to her.”

“Then, Miss Brinley was already…lying there when you first arrived?” Sir Owen asked, still frowning.

“Yes—of course. What kind of a question is that? Do you think I would not have stopped whoever was…?”

“May I ask why you happen to be here?” Sir Owen cut him off.

“If you must know, I had an assignation with Celia for seven this evening. I was late. If I had been on time…I could have saved her.”

“What I would like to know is why she asked you here…when I too was sent a missive to meet her.”

 “Why are you standing here asking insane questions
? Blister it
, Owen! Someone has strangled Celia!” Ned thundered beside himself with disbelief.

“Indeed, someone has.”

* * *

Some hours later, the servants and household were in a state of buzzing commotion. The doctor had been fetched and added yet more distressing information with his announcement that Miss Celia had been murdered and that he agreed with Lord Sherborne, and Sir Owen, that it appeared as though someone had strangled her with their bare hands.

This piece of news delivered quietly, solemnly and as kindly as the doctor could muster, still served to prostrate Celia’s stepmother. She was taken away to her room as she cried and carried on and declared that Celia, even in death, brought scandal down upon them.

The doctor hurried off, he said to notify the town magistrate and the assembled party took a moment of quiet as each considered the enormity of the situation. Mandy was heartsick, for while she and her cousin had not been friends, she had always felt a bit sorry for Celia. Besides that, no one deserved to have their life ended in such a way.

Mandy looked at her brother, but he appeared as though he was at a loss for words as he stared out the window.

She turned to Sir Owen and Alfred wishing they would go, and contemplated them and their reaction to Celia’s death. It was evident to her that neither man seemed more than mildly distressed over the loss of the young woman and yet, she knew both had been interested in Celia.

Her brother, on the other hand, was very distraught, and she moved to put a comforting arm about his waist.

“We must talk about this,” Alfred announced suddenly.

“Oh, Alfred, do stop always trying to sound so dashed portentous. Why must we talk?” Mandy returned on a frown. All she wanted was to be left with her brother. If anything was to be done, it was up to them to do.

“The seriousness of the situation absolutely demands it, Amanda,” Alfred puffed up. “I don’t think your flippancy is warranted here.”

She sighed, “I understand your concerns, but our cousin has died and at the hands of a murderer. It is not for us to handle, is it? I can only imagine what poor Celia felt in her last moments. It is most distressing and I am sure when the doctor notifies the authorities it will be immediately investigated.” She sighed heavily, “Even so, I don’t think this is the moment to be throwing around unsubstantiated notions, do you? We can not know who did this or why. What we do know is our cousin has been murdered, and my brother and I need a moment to grieve,” Mandy said quietly.

“That is because you have not considered…” Sir Owen put in gently. “That Celia was not killed by some random stranger traveling through the area. How could it be? A stranger couldn’t possibly have known she would be where she was. And what was the motive? This was done by someone she knew…”

“Indeed, I quite agree,” Alfred added, cutting Sir Owen off. Without thinking it out added, “No doubt her lover.”

“Alfred!” Mandy objected somewhat shocked. “Why would a lover kill her?”

“Many reasons. Jealousy…or…” Alfred started to list suggestions.

“Oh do shut up,” Ned stuck in. “Of all the foolish notions. Jealousy? Jealousy enough to kill her? Rubbish.”

“Just a moment, Ned,” Sir Owen said softly. “I do think it is likely someone romantically involved with Celia is her murderer, although I don’t think it was jealousy that drove him.”

“Why? What would drive him then?” Mandy asked frowning up at him.

“It is as yet, unclear,” Sir Owen replied. “But I do think it unlikely that some mysterious stranger met her at the lily pond and took her life. Only do but consider. As I have already stated, how would he know she was going to be at that spot? She had little on her person to rob, and…”

Mandy turned on Alfred, cutting Sir Owen off. “Why did she write your father to meet her?”

“What?” Sir Owen answered before Alfred could. “I too received a note requesting me to meet her.”

Ned ran a hand through his fair locks, “She sent me a note as well…she wanted me to come by at six thirty. I thought it an odd hour…and then I went to the wrong location as I wasn’t sure and thought….but,” he ran a hand roughly through his blond locks. “If only I had gone to the right location…if only I had been on time, I could have stopped the villain!”

“Why ask Ned to meet her at six thirty and you and my uncle at seven? It makes no sense.” Mandy stuck in. “What did she hope to gain?”

“You were late then, Ned?” Alfred stuck in. “Saw you dash into the woods on my way up to the house.”

“Aye,” answered Ned. “I was up at the big pond on the other side of the house. Took me a few moments before I realized where she meant. I didn’t see you though…”

Alfred ignored this as he turned on Mandy, “You see, I told you he didn’t notice me. As though he would hide from me if he had.”

“Are you certain it was six thirty, you were supposed to meet her?” Sir Owen asked as he stared hard at Ned.

“Here is the note…look for yourself,” Ned said going into his pocket and coming up empty handed. His brows drew together, “Now where did I put it? I know I had it for Skippendon wanted my…and I had it in m’hand when I gave him…”

“Skippendon?” Sir Owen interrupted.

“Yes, you know him? Good friend, Skippy. We met earlier today at the Cock Pit, must have lost it then.”

“Ah, yes, I was there myself…and saw you there. Indeed, perhaps you dropped it when you were with the viscount,” Sir Owen murmured pulling at his lower lip thoughtfully.

“What does it matter, anyway?” Ned shrugged. “I don’t see that it matters.”

“It matters, or it will when the authorities arrive tomorrow and ask us all to produce the notes we had from Miss Brinley,” Sir Owen replied curtly.

“Devil fly away with such nonsense. It has naught to do with…”

“Indeed,” Mandy put in. “I don’t see this point of questioning. It brings us no closer to understanding
who
could have killed our cousin or why.”

Ned’s face brightened as he produced a crumpled piece of paper and held it up, “Here is the missive she sent asking me to come!” He sounded almost triumphant and Mandy understood. Thus far, the questions both Alfred and Sir Owen were shooting in her brother’s direction felt almost accusatory.

She took the crumpled paper from him and perused it, “Here, indeed, she asks Ned to meet her at six thirty, saying it is urgent, nothing more.”

Sir Owen put his hand out for the note and Mandy eyed him quizzically but did finally hand it over. Why shouldn’t she, she thought. She and her brother had nothing to hide.

He looked at it only a moment and said, “This is in a different hand than the one that I have.”

Mandy turned to Ned, “Who brought you this note?”

“Her maid,” he said frowning.

Mandy went directly to the bell pull and gave it a hard tug. A moment later, a lackey appeared, and she requested him to ask Celia’s ladies’ maid to present herself in the library.

While they were waiting Sir Owen said quietly, “I believe the doctor will have more news for us tomorrow. You see, Celia confided in me earlier this week. She told me she was in a bit of a predicament because she was with child but she wouldn’t tell me who the father was.” He looked at Ned. “
Did you
know anything about this?”

Ned’s eyes opened wide and he turned to his sister and said, “I swear, I have never been with her…not like that…”

“And yet, she hinted to me that Ned here was the father,” Sir Owen returned gravely.

Ned turned angry eyes on him,
“Fiend seize you
, Sir Owen. How dare you accuse me of such a thing! What sort of scoundrel are you making me out to be? Damn, but I have a notion to call you out!”

Mandy stepped between the two before her brother could do something rash. “Stop, Neddy, I don’t believe it for a moment. Celica, poor soul, was working one of her schemes, nothing more.” She turned on Sir Owen, her cheeks felt as hot as she was sure they must look and she wagged a finger. “I thought you a friend. I realize now, how very wrong I was. A friend would know better…know better in his heart! A friend would not speak of insinuations which are not fact. A friend would not put that friend’s brother under suspicion without cold hard facts and you do not have them. You have conjecture and I think it is time for you to take Alfred and go.”