Lady Gwendolen Investigates. ANNE ASHLEY
Читать онлайн книгу.
old family, the Blanchards. No title, of course, but worthy, all the same.’
Gwen was just silently debating whether or not to reduce drastically her standing in this aristocratic visitor’s eyes by revealing that her mother had not, in fact, come from the wealthy branch of the Blanchard family that owned a good portion of land in the county of Shropshire, when she was forestalled by Miss Kershaw, who took advantage of the temporary lull in the conversation by returning to the subject of the recent murders.
‘I mentioned to Uncle Charles only the other week that it’s getting to the stage where it’s unsafe for a female to walk anywhere unaccompanied.’
‘And I sincerely trust, Anthea, you would never consider doing such an outrageous thing!’ Lady Florence exclaimed, looking appalled at the mere thought. ‘Nor Lady Warrender, for that matter,’ she added, seemingly having already judged that there was, surprisingly, little difference in age between the young women. ‘A female must always adhere to accepted rules of behaviour, no matter how respectable her status.’
‘Very true, my lady,’ Gwen readily agreed, not knowing whether to feel amused or nettled by this quite unnecessary reminder of good conduct. ‘But you must remember that the majority of women in the land are not nearly so fortunate as we three. They cannot afford the luxury of maidservants or companions to bear them company whenever they choose to venture forth. Indeed, most are obliged to do so in order to survive.’
‘And they should be able to do so without fear of being attacked,’ Anthea Kershaw put in without hesitation, her views on the subject seemingly in complete accord with Gwen’s. ‘Furthermore, Mama, I have no intention of dragging along a reluctant maidservant whenever I wish to take a breath of air in the park. I would far rather have Felix to bear me company. And one could hardly consider him an ideal companion. Why, on every occasion we’ve ventured into the wood, he’s relapsed into a world of his own, quite oblivious to my presence. And do remember a goodly portion of the wood forms part of the Cranborne estate. Up until now all incidents have taken place in that far area, where people may roam quite freely. But there’s no saying, if there should be more attacks, in what area they might take place.’
‘Oh, Anthea, dear, pray do not!’ her mother implored, appearing genuinely distressed. ‘I do not know from where you get these callous notions and dark thoughts.’
The smile that pulled at one corner of Miss Kershaw’s mouth for once was not pleasant, and a decidedly uneasy, almost troubled, look appeared momentarily in her eyes as she said, ‘It’s undoubtedly inherited, Mama. A family trait, wouldn’t you say?’
The speed with which Lady Florence changed the subject took Gwen so completely by surprise that it was a few moments before she was able to respond to the question directed at her.
‘No, ma’am, I have no plans to spend any time in the capital this spring.’ She chose not to add that, although it wasn’t beyond her means now to do so, she had no intention of needlessly wasting money by enjoying the unlimited pleasures the capital had to offer in an attempt to alter her widowed state. ‘I fully intend to go into half-mourning and socialise a little from now on. But I’ve more than enough to occupy me here for the present,’ she added, glancing about her. ‘The house is sadly in need of refurbishing, and bringing up to date. I sometimes think I’ve been swept back into the past century when I walk through these rooms. Most all the furnishings, as you’ve possibly observed, are quite antiquated.’
‘If that is your objective, then, yes, you will have much to occupy you for the foreseeable future,’ Lady Florence agreed, rising to her feet, a clear indication that she had every intention of bringing the visit to an end. ‘Nevertheless, I sincerely trust you are not so busy that you cannot dine with us, before we make our yearly trip to the capital next month. I shall ensure you receive a formal invitation, Lady Warrender. If nothing else, it will offer you the ideal opportunity to recommence your socialising by meeting a few of your neighbours.’
It will offer me a great deal more than that, Gwen silently acknowledged, well pleased by the unexpected visit and the chance it would soon present to become acquainted with the local Justice of the Peace.
It wasn’t so much the formal, gilt-edged invitation card, which was delivered by hand the following day, that brought Gwen such gratification as the totally unexpected appearance on her driveway of a bang-up-to-date lightweight carriage, pulled by a superb pair of matched greys. Most surprising of all was that the carriage was being tooled by none other than Annie’s eldest brother, Ben, a circumstance of which Annie herself demanded an immediate explanation the instant she had accompanied her mistress outside.
‘Don’t work for the blacksmith n’more, Annie. Works for Mr Northbridge now,’ he revealed, looking well pleased with the change of situation. ‘Leastways, I reckon I do,’ he amended, ‘if Lady Warrender, ’ere, ain’t too keen to take me on.’
Gwen wasn’t quite sure what to make of this, and didn’t attempt to hide her puzzlement. ‘I’m sorry. Ben, I’m not altogether certain I know precisely what you mean.’
‘It’s this way, ma’am. Mr Northbridge seemed to s’pose you’d be in need of a groom, ’im not ’aving a good word to say about the man you’ve got now. Said as ’ow ’ee weren’t up to tooling a donkey, let alone a decent pair of ’orses. Besides, ’im being a lazy b—’
His sister’s warning cry was sufficient to remind Ben to mind his language. Gwen had, however, already grasped the general drift, and couldn’t say she was unduly surprised by her affluent neighbour resorting to colourful language. Nonetheless she felt the situation needed some clarification, so didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the big brother’s presence for the time being at least.
Delaying only for as long as it took to collect a cloak, put on a bonnet and secure Gillie’s services, Gwen then set out on what she considered was the most comfortable carriage ride she had experienced in her entire life. Cushioned by thick and luxurious velvet upholstery, she felt not the slightest rut, and arrived at Bridge House in a surprisingly short space of time feeling hugely satisfied with her latest acquisition, completely uncaring as to the amount of money that would be required to reimburse Mr Northbridge, and more than ready to forgive and forget any past grievances she might still have retained with the man himself.
Unfortunately she was denied the opportunity to offer her personal thanks, but wasn’t unduly dejected to discover the master of the house away from home, for the information was relayed by none other than the housekeeper, who showed no unwillingness in allowing the visitor to step over the threshold in order to write a note.
Gwen soon found herself in what was surely Mr Northbridge’s private sanctum. Smelling faintly of leather, cigars and fine old brandy, the room was a representation of its owner’s personality—solid, reliable and wholly masculine.
Settling herself behind the desk, she easily arrested the housekeeper’s immediate departure by saying, ‘Please don’t rush away. It won’t take many moments just to scribble a few lines…It’s Mrs Brice, isn’t it?’
‘Why, yes, ma’am!’ she responded, appearing surprised.
‘I wish to thank you for ensuring that Jane Robbins’s belongings were safely packed away until such time as your master was able to dispose of them. Did you know I was a particular friend of hers?’
‘The master did mention it, ma’am, when he gave orders for the box to be brought down from the attic.’ She was quiet for a moment, then, evidently feeling she ought to say something further, added, ‘All very sorry we were, ma’am. Miss Robbins was a real nice young woman. There wasn’t a servant here who didn’t think well of her.’
Even though Gwen was much moved by the tribute, simply because she believed it had been totally sincere, not uttered merely as a formality, her mind was working rapidly in order to turn the conversation to her advantage, and maybe uncover something, anything, that might offer a clue as to why Jane had lost her life on that particular day in January. Was it simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or had she, perhaps, arranged to meet someone in secret,