The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall (30 page)

I have decided to take steps to protect myself against her. She is a gentle soul but I do not trust her. Perhaps I have pushed her too far, and like a tightly coiled spring she will snap and lash out at me. I must be ready for this, and strike before I am struck
.

Gemma turned the page but there was no more. That was the last entry written. What a piece of work Sarah had been! It was clear that she knew the body in the well was not Charles, and if she knew it wasn’t Charles that implied she knew who the body actually was. But she hadn’t written it in her book! Damn you, Sarah Cooper, Gemma thought. You’ve revealed so much else but why not that?

The pregnancy was a surprise. Gemma had not expected that. It must have been in the early stages as it sounded like Sarah was keeping it hidden for the time being. Perhaps no one had known about it when she died.

And that last part. Gemma read through the final paragraphs again. Sarah scared of what Rebecca might do to her? What did she mean? Gemma jotted down a few notes, then went back to the start of 1838 in the journal and read through in order.

By the time she had finished, she felt she had a good idea of the kind of person Sarah Cooper had been. She was shocked and horrified by the lengths Sarah had been prepared to go to, to achieve her goals. Her own problems with Nat paled into insignificance in comparison.

‘How’s it going?’ Don asked, as he entered with a cup of tea and a biscuit for her halfway through the afternoon.

‘This stuff is better than a soap opera,’ Gemma said, tapping the journal. ‘The girl who died in the shooting, well she has turned out to be a right bitch.’ She outlined the things Sarah had done, in her efforts to get what she wanted.

‘Wow. You’re right, she was not a nice person at all.’ Don shook his head.

‘Someone must have loved her once. Her mother, at least, when she was a child,’ Gemma said. What had made Sarah become so vindictive? What had made her hate Rebecca so much she had set out to destroy her?

‘Ah yes, a mother is usually blind to her offspring’s faults. What happened to her mother anyway?’

‘I don’t know. I imagine she died when Sarah was young, and Sarah was brought up at the hall as a companion to Rebecca.’

‘And because she was actually Rebecca’s half-sister anyway,’ Don added.

‘Indeed. So I suppose Henry Winton felt obliged to do right by her. And then she repaid him by such revolting blackmail to make him change his will!’

‘Revolting is right. She was prepared to tell the world her father had committed incest, raped her and made her pregnant.’ Don shook his head in disgust. ‘What kind of person would do that? I’m so glad
she’s
not anyone’s ancestor. Imagine discovering someone like her in your family tree? I suppose I’m the last person to understand women, but she really takes the biscuit. Well, I’ll leave you with your tea to see if there’s any more juicy gossip about those people to uncover.’

‘Thanks.’ As he left she briefly wondered why he’d think he was the last person to understand women. He’d always seemed very in tune with her – ever since he’d advised her to call and make things up with Ben she’d felt she could talk to him in the way she would to a girlfriend. She picked up a bundle of letters in an unfamiliar hand and began reading them. Some she skimmed through and others she read more closely, especially when she realised who had written them. One short note, in particular, dated 1840, made her gasp.

My dear Rebecca
,

I am missing you so much, but I shall be back at Carlstone Hall with you within the week. I had not appreciated it was the anniversary of Sarah’s death or of course I would not have fixed my business trip for this month. I would have stayed at your side
.

My darling, do not pay any heed to what people are saying. They do not know the whole story. They can never know the whole story. I know, and I understand, and I believe that you did the only thing you could have, in the circumstances. Anyone who spreads gossip shall not be invited to the Hall
.

Give the little one a kiss from Papa, and stay strong. I shall soon be with you
.

Your adoring husband
,

Charles

Gemma reread the letter several times and made some notes. Carlstone Hall. She jotted down a note to search the census records there. It was all becoming clear to her now. She couldn’t wait to tell Ben everything she’d found out, and on impulse texted him to suggest they met in the Men At Arms for a pub dinner, as soon as he finished work. His answer, ‘Sure! Great idea!’ was back within seconds.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as she read through more letters, jotted down notes and let the whole story clarify in her mind. At last it was six o’clock and time to pack up and go to meet Ben. She put the documents back in their boxes, stowed the boxes in a cupboard and left the hotel, waving cheerily to Don on the way out. ‘I’ll be back at the weekend, Don.’

Ben arrived at the Men At Arms at the same time she did, and they ordered a bottle of wine and a sharing platter for two. Gemma barely allowed him to sit down before she started recounting the contents of Sarah’s diary.

‘So what’s the timeline here?’ Ben said, when she’d told him everything. ‘Mrs Winton falls down the stairs. Possibly pushed by Sarah.’

‘Yes, then Rebecca gets engaged to Charles de Witt. But Sarah persuades him to break it off.’

‘Bitch.’

‘Indeed. But he does, believing what she said about Rebecca only having agreed to keep her father happy.’ Gemma took a sip of her wine. ‘Then Sarah finds she’s pregnant by some bloke called Jed.’

‘Or possibly she knew she was before sabotaging the engagement? Because she wanted Charles for herself, as a father for her child.’

‘Possibly. Either way, she then began blackmailing Mr Winton. First threatening to reveal that she was his illegitimate daughter, then saying that she would tell the world he had abused her and made her pregnant.’

‘
Was
she his daughter?’

‘Can’t be sure, but it would explain why he’d given her a home. What a way to repay him, though.’

Ben nodded. ‘Like I said, what a bitch.’

‘So Mr Winton gave in to her blackmail and changed his will. He thought that Rebecca was going to marry Charles and would therefore be provided for and have a home at Carlstone Hall. So presumably he didn’t know about the end of the engagement. Whatever – he died very soon after making his new will.’

Ben frowned. ‘That’s suspicious that he died so soon after changing his will. Did Sarah have a hand in it?’

Gemma shook her head. ‘The death certificate said he died of heart failure. But perhaps Sarah’s actions made his condition worse.’

‘Then after he died and Sarah had inherited the estate, a body gets pulled from the well and everyone assumes it is Charles.’

‘Yes, and Sarah herself helped identify the body. She knew it wasn’t Charles, though.’

Ben topped up both their glasses. ‘Gosh, we’re getting through this bottle quickly. Why did she want people to think it was Charles? And where was Charles anyway?’

‘I haven’t answered those two questions yet. I am guessing Sarah knew who the body really was. And Charles must have gone away for some reason. Presumably Sarah knew this so she knew it was safe to let on the body was his. But sooner or later it’d have become known that he was still alive. Anyway, whatever her reasons were, not long afterwards the two girls were shot with those duelling pistols.’

Ben nodded. ‘And no one ever found out who shot them.’

‘But Sarah wrote in her diary the day before that she felt scared she’d pushed Rebecca too far, and that she might turn against her and try to hurt her. So Sarah wanted to be ready to defend herself.’ Gemma’s eyes were shining. ‘Ben, I think Rebecca shot Sarah.’

‘Who shot Rebecca then?’

‘Sarah.’ Gemma took a large gulp of her wine. ‘I reckon they had a duel.’

‘A duel!’

‘Yep. They were duelling pistols, after all.’

‘But women didn’t duel! And anyway, duels happen outside, and each duellist would have a second who would load and prime their weapon. Weren’t they found in the cellars?’

‘Yes, they were. I don’t think it was a proper, organised, pistols-at-dawn type of duel. Ladies wouldn’t have done such a thing. But I reckon they had a pistol each and shot each other at the same time. One of the newspaper reports said that the butler heard the two shots almost simultaneously, and that it was assumed the murderer had held a pistol in each hand. But what if the girls shot at each other?’ Gemma looked at Ben triumphantly.

‘If you’re right, why did no one suspect that at the time?’

‘Because it was assumed firstly that the girls loved each other and secondly that young ladies would not know how to load and fire pistols.’

‘How did they know?’

Gemma punched him playfully. ‘Come on! I’ve come up with a plausible theory and you’re just trying to find holes in it. I have no idea how they knew but maybe someone showed them. Maybe the pistols were already loaded. Whatever. But what do you think?’

‘It’s possible, I suppose.’ Ben looked serious.

‘What’s the matter?’

He frowned again. ‘You don’t think, God, I know it’s stupid, but I keep thinking of the parallels between Rebecca and Sarah, and you and Nat. What if, I mean, might Nat try to hurt you? Physically, I mean. She’s done enough damage in other ways, but what if she tried to injure you somehow?’

Gemma laughed. ‘Nat hates me for some reason, and has been a bitch lately, but she wouldn’t try to kill me. You are definitely being ridiculous now.’

‘Jeez, I hope so. But, humour me, be careful, all right? Don’t go near her again. She’s unhinged.’

‘She’s acted strangely but she’s not dangerous, Ben. She’s not in the same league as Sarah.’ Gemma patted his knee in what she hoped was a reassuring way. But he’d worried her. She gulped back the rest of her wine and changed the subject.

The rest of the evening passed in a companionable blur of good food, wine and laughter. All too soon it was closing time.

‘Coming back to mine again?’ Gemma asked, linking arms with Ben as they left the pub.

‘If you’ll have me,’ Ben replied.

‘Oh yes, I’ll have you.’ She laughed. ‘You know, we should really think about moving in together properly.’

‘Yes, we should. Fancy going house-hunting at the weekend? Neither of our flats is really big enough for two but if we sold them and pooled resources we could probably get a pretty nice semi…’

Gemma grinned. He’d never before talked about buying a house together, even when they’d been engaged. ‘Sounds like a great idea. But for now you’ll have to put up with my tiny place.’

‘Cosy. Bijou. Those are better words than tiny. And here we are.’

They climbed the steps and went into the shared hallway of Gemma’s building.

‘Can you smell gas?’ Ben said.

‘Hmm, yes, a bit,’ Gemma replied, heading up the stairs to her flat’s front door. The smell of gas became stronger as she reached her floor. She turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. The stink of gas was almost overpowering as she reached out automatically to flick on a light.

Chapter 28

September 1838

Rebecca was at breakfast when the letter arrived. The handwriting of the address looked familiar, but it couldn’t be. She broke open the seal with her paperknife and began reading the contents. What she read made her drop her coffee cup, which smashed on her plate, splashing coffee across the table and her gown. She gasped, her hand at her mouth.

Spencer rushed into the room at the sound of the breaking crockery. ‘What is it, Miss Winton? Is everything all right? Can I help in any way?’

Rebecca could only stare at him and wave the letter. She could form no words. He crossed the room and took the letter from her. ‘Should I read it aloud, Miss Winton?’

She managed to nod, and watched as he first scanned the letter, his eyes widening, and then read it out in a voice shaking with emotion.

My dear Rebecca

News has only just reached me of the death of poor Sarah. What a truly terrible, tragic event. I can only imagine how you must feel to lose someone so close to you. I wish I could have been near at hand and able to assist, perhaps, as you dealt with such a blow, coming so soon after your dear father’s demise. But as you know, I was called away suddenly on business in London, and that business then required that I make a trip to first Paris and then Marseilles, Naples and Rome. Thankfully all is now resolved and I have at last been able to return to my London residence, where I first heard the news
.

Dearest Rebecca, although we parted on a sad note I hope that you still think of me as a friend. I am planning to return to Dorset within a day or two, and hope that you will receive me still at Red Hill Hall and that perhaps I can be of some comfort to you at this difficult time
.

I need too, to discuss with you another matter – it has come to my attention that there were reports of my own death having occurred at Red Hill Hall a month or so back. I don’t understand how those rumours began but clearly I wish to quash them
.

Therefore, may I ask you to please write to me by return at the address above, and let me know whether you would be happy to receive me at Red Hill Hall, or if I should make some other arrangements. I need to come to Dorset to prove to the Magistrate and the Constable that I am indeed alive and well, but if you do not wish to see me I shall fully understand. After all you have been through the last thing I want is to cause you any further distress
.

With deepest sympathy and fond regard
,

Charles

Spencer handed back the letter in silence. Rebecca opened her mouth to try to say something but once more the words would not come. Charles was alive! Whoever the body was in the well, it was not Charles. She could not take it in.

‘Miss Winton, let me fetch you some water. You look pale. It is a shock, indeed, but a pleasant one, to find Mr de Witt is alive and well after all. I can fetch your writing implements as well, if you are ready and able to send a reply to him? Or would you rather wait to do that later?’