Lady Gwendolen Investigates. ANNE ASHLEY
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And the truth of the matter is I’d move heaven and earth in an attempt to uncover the killer.’
‘So, what are you asking me to do?’ his lordship prompted, when once again his visitor relapsed into a brooding silence. ‘If you’re asking me to start fresh enquiries, I don’t honestly believe it would do much good.’
‘No, I was thinking more on the lines of bringing in someone from the outside, an ex-Runner who has for some years now undertaken private commissions. I happen to know he successfully aided a very close friend of mine in locating the whereabouts of his errant wife. Seemingly he’s extremely discreet. Furthermore, he has the knack of blending in, of going about a community without arousing suspicion, inducing people to reveal more than they might otherwise have done to someone they knew to be in authority. I could send an express to London, requesting my good friend Merriot Markham engages this person on my behalf—if you’ve no objection, that is?’
‘Not in the least, dear boy,’ the Earl agreed, urbanity itself, ‘providing you don’t keep me in the dark if any information is uncovered.’
‘Understood,’ Joss responded.
Deciding it was time to bring the visit to an end, he made his way across the room. As he reached the door, he bethought himself of something else, however. ‘You don’t happen to know if young Gilmorton’s still contemplating disposing of that new carriage and pair in order to pay those gaming debts?’
‘Can’t see him managing to do so otherwise, as his father steadfastly refuses to come to his aid this time. Why? Surely you’re not thinking of making him an offer?’
‘Not for myself, no. But I promised Warrender’s widow I’d look out for a decent carriage and pair for her. And I’ll do it too!’ A look of rock-hard determination momentarily gripped Northbridge’s features. ‘But that’s all I intend to do for the confounded woman!’ he declared vehemently. ‘
His lordship smiled to himself as the door was closed none too gently by the departing visitor. ‘I wonder now,’ he murmured, taking his time to savour the remaining contents of his glass, ‘how long it will be before our friend finds himself breaking that vow?’
Three days later Gwen had once again taken up the day-to-day running of her household. It wasn’t that she had recovered swiftly from the loss of her friend. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Jane was never absent long from her thoughts, and she once again returned to the forefront of Gwen’s mind the instant she had finished discussing the dinner menus for the following week with her now, thankfully, fully recovered housekeeper.
‘Before you go, Mrs Travis,’ she said, forestalling the servant’s immediate departure, ‘are you by any chance acquainted with the housekeeper at Bridge House?’
‘Why, yes, ma’am! Known Mrs Brice for a number of years. We both took up our posts at about the same time, though she’s a good deal older than me. Always exchange a word or two after the Sunday service, we do, and if we happen to bump into each other in town when doing the marketing.’
‘Sounds a pleasant, friendly sort of woman, Travis. Is that so?’
‘Indeed, yes, ma’am,’ she readily agreed. ‘Not a gossip, you understand,’ she added. ‘And very loyal to her master, she be. Mind you, not much goes on at Bridge House she doesn’t know about.’
Precisely what I was hoping to discover! Gwen thought, before her acute hearing picked up the sounds of an arrival, even though she was in her favourite retreat, the snug little parlour tucked away at the back of the house.
She watched Mrs Travis hurry out, and was astonished when the housekeeper returned a few minutes later to inform her that Lady Florence Kershaw and her daughter were now awaiting her in the much larger front parlour.
‘Ordinarily, ma’am, I should have shown such visitors into the drawing room, it being the best room in the house. Except, as you know, you gave strict instructions no fire be lit in there until the chimney’s been swept, and I thought it would be a mite on the chilly side, even though it’s almost April.’
‘You did quite right, Mrs Travis,’ Gwen assured the slightly flustered housekeeper.
Clearly she was unused to inviting such high-ranking persons to cross the threshold, and Gwen couldn’t in all honesty say she was in the least surprised. The late Sir Percival Warrender, having enjoyed a distinguished military career, had undeniably been well respected. His standing in the area would undoubtedly have been reasonably high. All the same, he had been no aristocrat, merely the son of an affluent gentleman. So why had his insignificant little widow been so singularly honoured?
Amazed though she was, Gwen didn’t feel in the least overawed, simply because she had benefited from that recent, close association with one of the most endearing and unorthodox high-born ladies who had, over the years, rubbed shoulders with several crowned heads of Europe.
Consequently Gwen was able to greet her unexpected visitors with all the quiet dignity expected of a young widow, but without experiencing the least trepidation, while at the same time successfully concealing her natural curiosity.
On entering the comfortable, though undeniably faded, front parlour, Gwen experienced on odd mixture of surprise and slight disappointment. She didn’t quite know what she had been expecting to find awaiting her, but she supposed she would have imagined two members of the most influential family in the county to make rather more of an impressive spectacle.
Lady Florence was undeniably dressed in the height of fashion. Sadly the prevailing mode ill suited her thickening figure. The colour puce made her appear slightly liverish, and the ugly turban-styled bonnet did absolutely nothing to improve the strong-featured, aristocratic lines of a face that had long since lost any slight claim to beauty.
Her daughter, on the other hand, neither favoured her mother in looks, nor in stature. Taller than average height, and slender, Anthea Kershaw had been blessed with a good complexion; and although her features were regular, one would have considered her handsome rather than pretty. There was no denying either that her plain, unadorned gown suited her very well, and was undoubtedly of good quality. Nevertheless it was clearly the achievement of some competent seamstress and not the creation of a top London modiste, of which Gwen had seen numerous examples during her sojourn in the capital earlier in the year.
She was instantly drawn to the younger woman as much by the warmth of a full-lipped smile as the completely unaffected manner. As things turned out, it was none other than Miss Kershaw herself who gave the first inclination as to why Gwen had been honoured by the visit, once initial pleasantries had been exchanged:
‘I understand from my uncle that you were well acquainted with the latest unfortunate female to meet her end in Marsden Wood?’
‘That is true,’ Gwen confirmed, realising in an instant from whom Lord Cranborne must have attained this information, while in the next moment wondering just when Mr Northbridge had paid a visit to his illustrious neighbour and, more importantly, why.
It might have been purely and simply a social call, during which he had just happened to mention there was someone in the neighbourhood who wasn’t prepared to sit back and allow matters to rest. But even if this was so, his lordship, surely, would hardly feel so discomposed as to deem it necessary to send two close female relations to pay a visit on the person who just might stir up something of a hornet’s nest?
Thrusting the various puzzling possibilities to the back of her mind to mull over later, Gwen went on to explain the close bond she had enjoyed with Jane Robbins. Although both visitors expressed sympathy, Lady Florence wasn’t slow to change the subject in an attempt to discover more about Gwen’s life, her parentage and family history.
She betrayed a degree of surprise, not untouched by approval, when she learned that Gwen’s father had been a member of the old and very distinguished Playfair family heralding from Derbyshire; and that her mother had borne the name of one of the most influential families in the county of Shropshire before her marriage.
‘So your mother and one