Mistress of Merrivale (10 page)

“I heard.” Leo’s tone was short.

Someone tapped on the door, halting the tart reply trembling at her lips.

“Enter,” Leo said without taking his gaze off her.

Woodley stopped just inside the door. “Mrs. Sherbourne, the gardener is here to see you. He said you’d told him to talk to me, but I felt you should hear what he has to say in person.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed, but Jocelyn’s gaze didn’t waver. There was something in Leo’s past—something relating to his first marriage—that made him distrustful. Part of her understood his testy attitude because he didn’t know her well either. Not yet. It’d take time for him to believe she’d never betray him. Taming Leo would require patience and resilience, which thankfully she possessed in abundance after dealing with her sisters and mother and the hellish mess her father had landed her in on his death.

“Of course. Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes. I promised to collect some herbs and flowers for my mother anyway.”

“Yes, Mrs. Sherbourne.” Woodley backed from the parlor and closed the door.

Leo stared at her until she wanted to squirm.

“Ah, I’d better go and speak with the gardener.” The words burst from her, a reaction to his frosty demeanor.

“Why do you need to speak to the gardener?” Once again, suspicion colored his expression.

She was innocent of wrongdoing, and his attitude stirred even more uneasiness. Jocelyn reminded herself she’d made the decision to marry him, and she had to make the best of her new situation. “Why don’t you come with me?”

Her suggestion obviously startled him. Good. Perhaps keeping him off balance would mellow his mood. She bustled to the doorway and spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll explain on the way. I need to collect a basket and scissors to pick more flowers and herbs for my mother. The ones we picked were destroyed—trampled underfoot during the earlier tempest.”

Leo nodded, strangely reticent now.

Satisfied with her strategy, Jocelyn led the way outside, pausing to collect her supplies from the still room. “I asked the under-gardener to check for signs of a stranger loitering in the garden. Mother was insistent she saw someone spying on us while we were picking flowers.”

“And you think your mother was imagining things?”

“Yes. No.” Jocelyn frowned. “I’m not sure. I sensed someone watching us while we were in the garden, but thought it was my imagination. I also saw a flash of white.”

“Most likely it was a bird or a sheep.”

“That’s what I decided, but that was also before Mother started screaming about spies.” Another thought occurred—one she didn’t voice. The riding habit Hannah had worn today was pale in color. She and Peregrine had arrived at roughly the same time. No, Hannah mightn’t like her, but her affection for her niece appeared genuine. She wouldn’t want to upset Cassie.

The jam episode…

No, Jocelyn was positive of Hannah’s innocence in this case. They’d arrived on horseback and left their horses at the stables, which were in the opposite direction. “Have you experienced problems with intruders before?”

“Strangers tend to stand out in the village.” Leo’s mouth twisted, but she wouldn’t call it a smile. “We live in a beautiful area and do have visitors, but I’d have heard of new arrivals, where they’d come from, along with their intentions and length of stay. Gossip spreads rapidly around here.”

“I suppose that must be how Peregrine knew I was from London. There he is,” Jocelyn said, changing her direction abruptly. “Good afternoon, did you discover anything out of the ordinary?”

The young gardener bobbed his head in a show of respect. “I didn’t see anyone or come across footprints.” His words were slow and thick with a Devonshire accent. “The ground’s dry after the fine weather.”

“Oh. Well, thank you for looking for me.” Jocelyn had expected this report. Her mother wasn’t the most reliable witness. She started to turn away when the gardener spoke again.

“There was something strange,” he said. “Someone had trampled the undergrowth at the edge of the oak forest. No footprints, see, but broken branches and crushed grasses near the trees.”

Jocelyn considered the information. “Perhaps it was an animal. Maybe sheep?”

“How old were the signs?” Leo took over the questioning, his gaze probing.

“Recent,” the gardener said without hesitation. “Sap still oozed from the broken branches.”

“Could one of the other gardeners have caused the damage?” Leo asked.

“None of us have worked in the area today,” the gardener said.

Jocelyn nodded. “Thank you.”

The gardener went back to his work, leaving her alone with Leo. He was frowning again, but this time his displeasure wasn’t aimed at her.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Leo said. “I’ll speak to the rest of the outdoor staff and ask them to watch for strangers.”

“We’re assuming it’s a stranger, but it could be anyone,” Jocelyn pointed out. “It could be a local or one of the staff.”

“At least you’re not trying to tell me your mother saw a ghost.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts?”

An indelicate sound escaped Leo. “Of course not. I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation.” He studied his wife’s impish expression, and his bad mood disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Seeing Peregrine touching her in the overly familiar manner had reminded him of Ursula’s flirtations. At the start of his first marriage, he’d been so smitten he hadn’t noticed Ursula’s shortcomings. Besides, she’d hidden her lovers carefully until he’d discovered her in bed with an actor from a touring troop. After that episode, she hadn’t bothered to hide her indiscretions, her behavior outrageous and designed to rouse his jealousy.

“I’d hoped Mother would settle easily. She was so happy out in the garden picking flowers.” Jocelyn grimaced. “I’m sorry about the drama. I’d better pick these flowers and herbs before Mother makes her displeasure known again.”

“Jocelyn?”

“Yes?”

“Take care with Peregrine.” He’d confront his worries—his jealousy—instead of ignoring the situation as he’d done with Ursula.

She cocked her head, the sun glinting on her red hair and turning it to flame. “I hate to say this, but your neighbors lack manners. Peregrine is a child, although he probably wouldn’t thank me for saying so.”

“What happened?” The fire in her eyes darted a frisson of heat to his groin, and memories of the previous night added to the warmth. She was incredible, and he’d been looking forward to the coming evening.

“Hannah attempted to usurp my place as hostess, and Peregrine kept speaking to my breasts,” she snapped.

Her distaste went a long way to soothing his distrust. “I hope you managed to put her in her place.” Melburn had told him she was loyal, but while he’d nodded at the information and professed himself glad, he was finding it difficult to deal with reality. Jocelyn mightn’t have beauty, but men responded to her easy, friendly manner and her shapely form. They looked at her hair and translated it to a sensual nature.

“I didn’t resort to rudeness,” Jocelyn said. “It’s a tricky situation because they’re Cassie’s aunt and uncle.”

“There was a time when Hannah and I discussed marriage.” Leo winced, surprised he’d admitted this.

“What happened?”

“Her younger sister happened,” he said drily. “I hadn’t met Ursula since we were children. I’d been away at school and spent time with Melburn in London. Ursula and I met at a Christmas ball and ended up getting married mere weeks later.” Leo watched Jocelyn the entire time, but her expression didn’t so much as flicker.

“I see.”

Leo doubted Jocelyn’s understanding. Ursula had fooled him with the skill of an expert loo player. “I’d better get back to work. I ran across the vicar, and he invited us to dinner. I thought I’d better give you notice.”

“Thank you. I look forward to dinner.”

“You’ll like the vicar and his wife. I always enjoy their company.”

Jocelyn gripped his arm suddenly. “Is that a sheep?” she asked in a whisper.

Leo turned slowly to face the direction she indicated, but saw nothing.

“Bother. It’s gone,” Jocelyn said. “I don’t think it was a sheep, but I can’t swear it was a person either. I caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye. It was near the oak tree with the stump in front. Do you see it?”

“Go back to your flower picking,” Leo said. “I’ll check before returning to help the farm hands.” He leaned close to steal a kiss then turned on his heel and strode away. The weight of a stare at his back brought a grin, and he put an extra swagger in his step. When he didn’t let his jealousy get to him, his wife made him happy. A good start to their marriage.

The dinner with the vicar and his wife turned out to be a pleasant experience, and Jocelyn found herself liking Vicar Allenby and his wife. The vicar enjoyed his food, being rotund in shape. A yellowed wig covered his head and sat off-center. By contrast, Mrs. Allenby was tall and angular, her pale blue eyes bright with intelligence. Her artfully arranged dark hair was streaked with gray. Although they were older, conversation passed easily between the couples.

The vicar and Leo spoke of farming, the mines and village matters while Mrs. Allenby nattered to Jocelyn about the village and the sewing circle, which was currently making children’s clothes for an orphanage in Tavistock.

“Would you like to join?” Mrs. Allenby asked. “And perhaps your mother too?”

“My mother isn’t well,” Jocelyn said, fighting to keep regret at bay because socializing with other women was something her mother had always enjoyed in the past. “But perhaps she could stitch some articles at the manor?”

“Splendid,” Mrs. Allenby said.

The two men stood. “I’m off to show Leo the new books I purchased in Tavistock,” the vicar said. With the advance of the night and numerous drinks, the vicar’s wig had drifted askew, and he now had a lopsided appearance.

Mrs. Allenby’s eyes twinkled. “I know you’re off to taste the brandy that appeared at the doorstep three nights ago. Don’t be too long.”

“You can use the time to gossip,” the vicar shot back. “You don’t require our presence for that.”

Laughing, Mrs. Allenby made shooing motions with her hands and the men departed.

“Have you met Viscount Hartscombe’s son and daughter?” Mrs. Allenby asked.

“Yes.” Jocelyn abhorred gossip, a remnant of the horrid days after her father died. “They seem pleasant.” She managed to get the words out without choking.

“Hartscombe and his viscountess are lovely, although they don’t spend much time in Dartmoor. Hartscombe prefers the pleasures of the Continent these days. He’s very interested in ancient civilizations and the viscountess travels with him. It will be lovely to see them at the party. I presume you’re attending?”

Tension eased from Jocelyn. “Yes, I’m looking forward to meeting everyone. Tell me about the village,” she prompted, eager to learn more of her new home.

Mrs. Allenby’s brow crinkled, and a heavy sigh escaped. “Normally I’d say the village is a lovely place to live, but since the murders…” She trailed off, worry making her appear much older. “I suspect you’ve heard about them.”

“A little, but I wasn’t sure if the gossip was exaggerated.”

“I’m afraid not. First poor Ursula was discovered strangled down by the river, and a few weeks ago a maid who disappeared from Hartscombe was found in the maze at Merrivale.”

“Do they have any suspects?”

Mrs. Allenby grimaced. “A lot of people are saying your husband is the murderer.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jocelyn burst out, aghast that anyone would think Leo capable of the crime. Thoughts careened through her mind, so rapid they tripped over one another. She shook her head. “No, not Leo. I can’t believe it of him.”

Mrs. Allenby reached over to pat Jocelyn’s hand. “Of course not, but I’m afraid the facts point in his direction.”

“What is the evidence?” Jocelyn demanded, anger replacing her initial shock.

Sympathy chased across Mrs. Allenby’s face as she hesitated.

“Tell me. I’d rather hear it from you. Please, don’t let me enter a social situation unprepared.”

Mrs. Allenby gave an unhappy sigh but acquiesced with Jocelyn’s plea. “Witnesses saw Leo and Ursula fighting the evening before they discovered her body.”

“But—”

Mrs. Allenby held up her hand, and Jocelyn cut off her objection. “Captain Cartwright, the parish constable, questioned Leo. Of course, Leo denied everything. One of the shepherds saw Ursula early the following morning with two men. They never identified the men. Ursula was discovered a few hours later, and the authorities released Leo.”

Jocelyn found herself shaking her head. No, she couldn’t believe Leo was a murderer. “And the other murder?”

“I’m afraid the disappearance of the maid who worked at Castle Hartscombe is a mystery. No one knows what happened to her, but there is no doubt she was found at Merrivale. The village is awash with speculation.”

Not good. No wonder Leo was so insistent on her taking a footman with her during every outing. “Everyone suspects Leo.”