Sonnet to a Dead Contessa (35 page)

“I’ll explain on the way,” he said briefly.

Meredith stared at him and then shrugged. “I hope this means you’ve gotten some sense. Let me get Guin, and we’ll go.”

Dylan did not enlighten her. He waited, and soon she came out carrying Guin. He took the child, and the two went outside. For a moment Dylan was afraid she’d recognise Givins, but she did not even look up. He opened the door of the carriage, helped her in, handed her the child, and then got in beside her. “All right, let’s go,” he said.

The carriage started at once, and almost instantly Meredith began asking him for more details.

Finally, when he saw that it was useless but also was aware that she could not jump from the swiftly moving carriage, he said, “Lady Trent’s been gone for almost a week. She sent me a note saying she needed to see both of us. That it’s very urgent.”

“Stop the carriage! I won’t go see that woman.”

“Yes, you will, Meredith. I’ll have to insist on this. I don’t know why she wants to see us, but I owe her a great deal.”

“You owe her nothing! Let me out!”

For once Dylan was firm. He took her arm and squeezed it. He had a strong grip, and she winced. “Be still, Meredith. I’ll see that you’re brought back as soon as the meeting is over. I don’t know what it’s about, but we’ll find out.”

That was the last word that Meredith said. He noticed that she was pale, and Dylan spent the rest of the time telling a story to Guin, who was always ready for such.

When the carriage pulled up to the Trent estate, Dylan was surprised to see Givins guide the horses not to the front door but around to the outside laboratory. It was where Serafina and her father performed autopsies when the occasion arose. He could not understand why this would be where Serafina wanted to meet the two of them, but when the carriage stopped, he opened the door and jumped down. He took Guin and reached up to help Meredith out, but she came down without his aid.

“Thank you for coming, both of you.”

Dylan turned quickly to see that Serafina had come out of the laboratory. She was wearing a simple white dress, and he could not read her expression. She seemed very sober but not at all sorrowful. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“And I protest at your high-handedness, Lady Trent! You may be nobility, but you have no manners! I’ve been practically kidnapped,” Meredith said furiously. “I demand that you take me home!”

“You’ll be going there shortly, but come inside first. I have something to tell you both.” They moved inside, following Serafina, and Dylan closed the door. No one was in the laboratory, and everything was put away in an orderly fashion. A door at one end led to the supply room, and there was a silence in the place that seemed, for some reason, ominous.

“My reason for getting you here,” Serafina said, “will be obvious. It has to do with you, Mrs. Brice.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I have been making a list of mistakes that have cropped up in our conversations.”

“What are you talking about? What kind of mistakes?”

Serafina turned to face Meredith. The two of them almost set off sparks, Dylan
saw. He and Guin were left out. This, whatever it was, was between Serafina and Meredith. He could not imagine the issue, and he listened carefully as she spoke.

“When I first met you, you remarked that your sister, Angharad, came to England, and that your reason for coming here was to locate her.”

“It’s the truth.”

“No, it’s not. Angharad Evans, your sister, never came to England. She died in Wales.”

“It’s not so!”

“I’m afraid it is. I stood beside her grave, and I spoke with the minister who spoke at her funeral. He knew both of you well. His name is Allen. You remember him, I trust?”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I do. I wrote it down because it seemed important to me.”

“Dylan, don’t let her say these awful things to me.”

Dylan stared at Meredith. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“Last April you told me that you had seen the Prince of Wales in October of ’57.”

“That’s right, I did.”

“You could not have seen him. He was in France all that month, the month before, and the month after.”

“I—I made a mistake.”

“I grew suspicious. There are several more but minor things. You claim to have worked shucking oysters, but your hands are not scarred—as are the hands of all who have done that sort of work.”

“Don’t listen to her, Dylan! She’s lying!”

“I’ve just come back from Wales. I went to the village where you grew up.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“No, but here is a sworn statement from the pastor of the local church. He keeps the records of all marriages, and there is no record of a marriage between Lewis Brice and Meredith Evans. I talked to other people who knew you without telling them why I was there. They all said, in one way or another, that you had never been married. In fact, most people said you two never had a relationship.”

“It’s a lie! I was married to Lewis!”

“No, you were not. Because on the date you said you were married, Lewis was not in Wales. He had gone to Africa the year before as a volunteer to work with David Livingstone. He died there and is buried there.”

Suddenly Meredith turned to face Dylan. “You see what she’s doing, don’t you, Dylan? She wants you for herself. She’s been in love with you for a long time.”

Dylan stared at her, unable to reply. Serafina spoke up at once. “I won’t dignify those accusations with a response. Dylan, read this.”

Dylan took the documents and the letter that stated that there was no record of a marriage between Lewis Brice and Meredith Evans. The pastor had added, “I knew Lewis until he left for Africa, and I’m certain he never married in this village or anywhere else.”

Dylan looked up and stared across the room at Meredith. “Why have you done this, Meredith?”

Meredith cursed. Her face twisted, and she vowed it was all lies. “You’d believe whatever she says!”

Serafina said, “I have one more bit of evidence, and it will prove one thing: that Guinivere is not your child.”

“You’re a liar! That’s what you are, a bloody liar!”

Serafina did not answer. She walked over to the door, opened it, and said, “Come in, please.”

Dylan stared at the man who looked like one of the roughs. He was staring at Meredith, and he said, “Didn’t expect to see me, did you?”

“Who are you?” Dylan asked at once.

“Me? I’m Caradoc Price, the lover of that there woman.”

“I never saw this man!”

“Tell your story to Mr. Tremayne, Price,” Serafina said.

“There ain’t a whole lot to tell.” He was a big man, bulky with a pasty complexion as if he had not been outdoors a great deal. “Me and Meredith, we never married, but we lived together. She found out I had another woman named Gladys. She turned me over to the law. I was a poacher, among other things. So I went to prison until I could pay the fine. She laughed at me. Somehow she heard about Dylan here being a star on the stage. She took Guinivere and come to England.”

“How did you get out of prison to come here?” Dylan asked. He had a heaviness in his spirit, for at one time Meredith had been a true friend and his first love, even though it was childhood love.

“Why, Lady Trent there got me out. She paid my fine, after I told her my story, and got me out.”

“What is it you want, Caradoc?” Dylan asked.

“Me? I don’t want nothing but to get a little bit of my own revenge on Meredith. She sent me to jail, so I breaks up her little game. And the girl? She’s an orphan. I reckon Meredith just grabbed her to use when she decided to come here and take you for what you’ve got. She ain’t no kin to Meredith.”

“We can find a home for her here,” Serafina said at once. “You’d like to stay here with Dylan, wouldn’t you, Guin?”

“Yes!”

Meredith stood staring at Dylan, and he said gently, “I think you’d better go back to Wales, Meredith.”

“All right, fine. I’ll go back,” Meredith said. She turned away and faced the wall as if she could not bear to look upon any of them.

Dylan stood, heartbroken, staring at Meredith’s back for a moment. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but he struggled for words. He closed his mouth, then willed himself to try again. “Meredith . . .” he began, his voice barely a whisper. He stopped, closed his eyes, swallowed his tears, and went on. “Meredith, I’m—I’m s-sorry I dishonored you.”

“You fool!” Meredith spat, whirling around to face him, her face red and her eyes flashing. “You never
touched
me!”

“What do you mean? You said—”

But she wouldn’t let him finish. “I
know
what I said!” she hissed. “But it wasn’t true. I put something in your drink to make you pass out, so that when you awoke the next morning, you wouldn’t remember anything. And then I lied and said you’d made love to me—but I only said that so you’d marry me, because I thought you’d be worth marrying! Little did I know. Oh, little did I know.” Bitterness dripped from her every word.

And Meredith’s venomous words were more than Serafina could take. “He’s twice the man, Meredith, that you’ll ever deserve!”

“As if you would know,” Meredith said with her eyebrow raised, then turned her back on them both again.

Serafina started to say something in return, but before she could, she felt Dylan’s hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw that he was shaking his head.

Serafina called Ellie, the tweeny maid, who had been waiting outside the door. Ellie enticed Guin to go to the house for cookies, and then Serafina moved to the desk, opened the drawer, and removed a purse. She handed it to Caradoc, saying, “There’s enough for her passage, and your fee is in there. I’ll have my coachmen take you back.” She turned and said, “Meredith, I think you’d best go back to Wales and try to find yourself there.”

Dylan watched in a stunned fashion as Meredith and Price walked outside. Meredith did not say a word but gave him a poisonous look. The carriage rolled away, and Meredith looked out and pronounced a curse
on Serafina, who did not answer.

Serafina turned back to Dylan and said, “I’ll take care of Guin and will look into the legalities of adopting her. You can come see her when you feel up to it, but I know this is hard for you right now.”

Dylan turned to her. “Not as hard as it would have been if I had married her. I would have found out sooner or later, I suppose.”

Serafina came, stood close to him, put her hand on his arm, and said gently, “You wanted to do a good thing, Dylan. I knew all the time you didn’t love her. You just wanted to help her and the child.”

“No, I didn’t love her, but I thought I could do something good.”

“You tried to save what was left, and I admire you for it. Would you like to come to the house?”

Dylan felt that he had taken a blow to the midsection. He could not think properly. “I’d like to go back to town, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. I’ll have Peter hitch up the small carriage and take you back.”

She turned to go, but he reached out, took her arm, and held her for a moment. “I don’t know what to say, Serafina, but I know that when this all sinks in, for the rest of my life, I’ll be grateful to you for saving me from making a terrible, terrible mistake. Thank you very much. You’ve been my good angel.”

Serafina’s eyes lit up, and her lips trembled. “I’m happy for you, Dylan. You’re going to pull through this. It may take awhile, but you’ll find your way.”

Ten minutes later Dylan was in the small carriage along with Peter Grimes, the footman. He was curious, Dylan could tell, but he asked no questions. Just made a few remarks about the weather. When they reached the city, he drove at once, at Dylan’s direction, to the office that held Scotland Yard. Dylan got out and said, “Thank you, Peter.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Dylan walked inside, and when people spoke to him as he made his way through the small office that he shared with Sandy Kenzie, he responded automatically. He sat down at the desk and stared at the papers blindly. Over and over again he thought about what he had just experienced, and finally Matthew came in and said, “Kenzie tells me you had an errand.”

“Come in. Let me tell you something.”

Curious, Matthew came in and shut the door. He listened as Dylan told him what had happened, and then he said, “Well, I know this hits you hard. It’s bad news to find out someone has betrayed you, but personally I’m relieved that the truth came out.”

Matthew came over, put his arm around Dylan’s shoulder, and said, “Come on, man. Work’s the best thing. We’ll talk about this later. Maybe you can have supper with me and Dora tonight.”

“That would be nice, but I don’t think I’m fit to work. Can’t think of anything very logically.”

“Take the day off. Go for a walk. Go down to the river. Do something to take your mind off of it.”

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll do that.”

Dylan had returned to the office, and dusk had fallen. He sat there at his desk going over the evidence on the killings and read again the last poem that the Slasher had left.

SONNET TO A DEAD CONTESSA

She is the fairest of the fair
But death will close her pretty eyes
So that she will never dare
Deceive a man with sugared lies!
That form that men declare divine
Will no more deceive poor men!
That flesh will be for worms to dine
And that will pay for her great sin!
The river with a crooked arm
On the day she is born she will perish,
And none can stop the harm,
And few will her memory cherish!
In midsummer she will cease to be,
And Scotland Yard will never see!