Stranger at the Manor by Mary Kingswood

25: A Little Embroidery

‘Leggatt Mining Company, Lofthouse, nr Leeds, West Riding. 3rd October. Dear Mr Winslade, I cannot tell you how delighted we are to hear of your cousin’s share certificate for this company, which we had suspected lost for ever. When this company was founded, there were twelve investors and therefore twelve certificates of holding, with my grandfather holding the principal share. When he died, however, there was some dispute over ownership and although my father and I managed to lay claim to the company name and some of the properties, the most profitable enterprise and all the papers relating to the business remained at Leggatt House with my aunt. We could not, therefore, contact most of our investors. Over the years, all but one of them were traced, but certificate number four eluded us, and no wonder, if it went off to Shropshire! We shall need to have sight of the certificate, naturally, but that accomplished, it will be my very great pleasure to pay the profits accruing from the past twenty three years. Your cousin’s investment has generated a return of approximately one hundred pounds a year, which sum having been invested on his behalf, there is now a little over four thousand pounds due to him. Furthermore, if Mr John Winslade would care to take up additional holdings on our more recent ventures, on the terms he would have been offered at the time, an initial investment of approximately two thousand pounds would yield a return in excess of one thousand pounds a year. I shall send my brother to examine the certificate, and he will furnish you with exact numbers. Yours in the greatest excitement, Ernest Leggatt.’

~~~~~

“Do you mean to say that I am now solvent?” the squire said, staring at Peter over his brandy glass in disbelief. “The last time we talked, you made it seem as if the only way out was to increase the rents and tighten our belts even more, and now… I am in funds?”

“You will be, in due course, but you will only stay in funds if you increase the rents, as Jackson has advised. The amount he suggests is lower than Lord Saxby’s tenants now pay, many of whom were once your tenants, so you will not hear much grumbling about it. Jackson says that your people know they are very fortunate in their landlord, but accept that they cannot go on with these low rents indefinitely.”

“Are they so very low? They complain about them so much that I cannot believe that the land can support higher rents, Peter.”

“Some of them complain to your face on Quarter Days because they know you will let them off the rent altogether if they do, but they can well afford to pay.”

“But what about the Cane family? The father has been missing for years and the eldest boys transported—”

“Jackson knows which families have genuine hardship. You have let him deal with the Michaelmas rents, and although some are stubborn, the rest paid up without a murmur, and you have almost doubled your income. The modest increases proposed will more than double it, and once all your debts are cleared, you will be very much better off than you were.”

“But this is precisely my point — how can the debts be paid? I do not understand. You have not found a way to sell the paintings, have you?”

“No, only the Water Street business, but Smith gave me a very good sum for it… a surprisingly good sum.” He was silent for a moment, musing on Smith’s unexpected willingness to pay a fair price.

“Smith is a clever fellow, but his father was a gentleman, he told me once, so he has a sense of honour,” the squire said. “He is up to all sorts of games, of course, but in business he is very fair.”

“True. Surprising, given his line of work, but he does seem to be honourable in some fashion. He is to pay you twelve thousand for the property and your share in the business, and that alone will clear all your debts, and pay for the repairs to the roof. Then there is this coal mine in the West Riding, which I had little hope of, but it has turned out very well indeed. When all is settled and if you increase the rents as proposed, you will have an income in excess of five thousand a year, free from all encumbrance.”

“Five thousand!” the squire said, jumping to his feet in his excitement. “Just think what I can do with such an income! Peter, you are a wonder!”

“Now, now, Cousin, I beg you not to get carried away,” Peter cried, in some alarm.

“But I shall be able to live properly again. You have no ambitions in that way, I know, but you can have no idea how it drains my soul to live in this hole-in-the-corner way, without anything much to look forward to. Just two balls a year, and a few paltry dinners, when the house used to be always filled to the rafters with guests. And then there was London…”

“No London house,” Peter said firmly. “No hunting lodge, no faro tables, no extravagance, John, or you will be penniless again within a twelvemonth. Remember, too, that you have four more sons to educate and steer into careers, and four daughters yet to provide for. Let me have the management of your finances and I will keep your head above water, and without penny-pinching. You will be able to entertain more than you have, but you must not go wild. It would break my heart to see you throw it all away again.”

The squire deflated instantly, plumping down his chair with a sigh. “I suppose you are right. I must be sensible, but I did so enjoy London.”

“If you want to go to London, then take lodgings for a month or so,” Peter said. “Until Alice is ready to come out, you have no need for a house or to stay for the whole season. Take Henry, and let him strut about a bit. It will do him good, and he might pick up an earl’s daughter or some such. Or cultivate Lord Silberry. He has a fine house there, and he often invites guests for the season.”

“That is a good point,” the squire said, perking up. “He is a good chap, Silberry. He has given the Brasnell woman a letter of introduction to a woman in town — a viscount’s widow or something of the sort — who will let them stay with her and show them around, introduce them to a few people, that sort of thing. They will be off next week, and I could not be happier about it. I have no idea what turned her against me, for she seemed quite set on dragging me to the altar, but she is to turn tail and run, thank God.”

“That might have been my doing,” Peter said. “I may just have happened to mention to her that you were all to pieces, and might even have to sell the house, and she seemed to lose interest after that, so you may wish to keep your change of fortune under your hat for a while.”

“Oh, indeed, not a word, not a single word will pass my lips, if only she will go away. Although I would not have been so reluctant if it had been Charlotte on offer.” He heaved a sorrowful sigh. “Such a pretty little thing.”

“Who would no doubt have given you another eight children to drain your coffers,” Peter said acidly. “You would have needed to add on another wing just to accommodate your nursery, and another platoon of nursery maids and governesses.”

The squire looked thunderstruck. “Good God! What a hideous thought. Not that I have anything against the little treasures, for I love them all dearly, but Lord, Lilian was so ill with them, every time, and then I was sleeping in the dressing room for months on end, and it was a great trial to me, Peter, I cannot deny it. At least with Philippa she never conceived, so it was only a few days every month. I cannot imagine how you stayed a bachelor for so many years, but I cannot live without a woman in my life, not for long. A wife keeps me straight, Cousin. I need to be married.”

“Then marry someone your own age, with no risk of children. Have you never thought of Lady Saxby? You would make such a handsome couple.”

“Felicity? Heavens, no! She is too cold a fish for my taste. Silberry can have her and welcome, and maybe she will warm up for him, but she would not suit me.”

“One cannot always tell,” Peter said cautiously. “A reserved exterior may conceal a very warm nature that only reveals itself in private.”

“And how would you—? Good God, do you mean quiet little Miss Beasley? Is she—? Well I never! You lucky dog, Peter! But I cannot think that Felicity has an ounce of warmth in her, and even if she were the most wanton woman alive, I am not sure I could ever measure up to her high standards. She would not want to step down from being Lady Saxby to a mere Mrs Winslade, but Viscountess Silberry would be just the thing for her. I do not know where I shall find a wife now, Cousin, and that is the truth. I am too old to go to the assemblies and jig about in the country dances. I was noted for my minuet in my youth — the Queen herself once told me I turned a very fine leg — but now…”

“Hold a ball,” Peter said promptly.

“We have just had a ball,” the squire said petulantly. “Not that I mind another, but I do not see what might be different about a second ball.”

“It is only three months since Lilian died. Naturally, knowing how fond of her you were, your friends do not bring potential matches to your notice. However, if you let it be known that you are thinking of matrimony again, for the sake of your poor motherless children, and then hold a ball… Do you see?”

“Yes! And if we also let it be known that my fortunes have improved—”

“Exactly so, if we can be sure that such news does not reach the ears of the so-charming Mrs Brasnell. You do not want her on your doorstep.”

“No, although Charlotte—”

“—will not be separated from her mother. That would be the surest way to have the woman living under your roof in perpetuity.”

“True, and the babies. I have not forgotten the babies. Let little Edward be the last of them.” He exhaled slowly. “You are very good for me, Peter, and have done wonders with the money. Quite a miracle worker. You are not going to dash off back to Leeds or any such nonsense, are you?”

“I shall try not to. Phyllida wants to stay with Dr Beasley, and I want to stay with Phyllida, so as long as Viola Gage refrains from fomenting any more trouble, we are fixed in Great Maeswood, from where I may continue my miraculous performance on your behalf.”

“What a splendid fellow you are, Peter.”

~~~~~

Peter presented himself at the Dower House punctually at noon on Saturday. Mrs Edgerton greeted him in the hall.

“I am afraid Michael is in rather a temper about this,” she said. “Do not mind his ranting. Mr Willerton-Forbes knows what he is doing.”

With these enigmatic words, she ushered him into the study, where indeed Captain Edgerton was pacing about the room, a scowl marring his usually pleasant countenance. Mr Willerton-Forbes smiled benignly.

“Do come in, Mr Winslade,” Willerton-Forbes said. “You are well, I trust? And you left Mrs Winslade in her customary good health? And how does Dr Beasley go on?”

It took some little time to satisfy the lawyer on the wellbeing of all the residents of Whitfield Villa, and then there was Madeira to be poured and seats to be arranged and the captain persuaded to sit down at all, for he was very much inclined to prowl.

“You must not mind the good captain,” Willerton-Forbes said. “He is rather cross about this.”

“Cross? Cross? I have never been so angry in my life! It is unconscionable! Unforgivable! Entirely unacceptable!”

“Yes, yes, it is unfortunate, but we shall get through it, Michael. Mr Winslade, as you know, we are authorised by Lady Saxby and the family’s lawyers to investigate the murder of Lord Saxby. We have now received a most provoking suggestion. We do not believe it, naturally, but we are obliged to investigate it thoroughly. That duty cannot be evaded, no matter our personal feelings in the matter. Do you understand?”

“I understand that you must follow every possible avenue to uncover the murderer,” Peter said cautiously, rather mystified.

“But not the impossible,” Edgerton muttered.

“Michael, please,” Willerton-Forbes said without impatience. “You will have your chance to speak. Not to beat about the bush, Mr Winslade, it has been suggested to us that it was your wife who killed Lord Saxby. I must assure you at once that we are both utterly convinced of her innocence, but we must take such a suggestion seriously and prove to our own satisfaction that it is impossible. We are agreed that we do not wish to subject your good lady to intrusive questioning on very intimate matters which would greatly distress her. We have, therefore, devised an alternative method. It occurred to us that you, as your wife’s confidant, must know everything relating to her dealings with Lord Saxby. If you could answer such questions in her stead, then, armed with this information, I should be able to construct a case against Mrs Winslade. I should be acting, if you will, as the prosecution in a mock trial to take place here in this room, with only the three of us present. Captain Edgerton will then act as the defending barrister and demonstrate that it could not possibly be so. Then we shall have done our duty and may happily cross Mrs Winslade off our list, and she will not need to know anything about it. Do you see?”

“I see two things very clearly,” Peter said, in rising indignation. “Firstly, that you want me to break faith with my wife and tell you of private matters that she told me in confidence. And secondly, that some despicable person has made this accusation against her, and I may guess at that person’s identity, I suppose.”

“You would almost certainly guess aright,” Willerton-Forbes said quietly, “but that does not necessarily mean that the accusation is unfounded. We were told— No, let us speak it openly, in the name of honesty and good faith. Miss Viola Gage gave us some information to which we were not privy before, which raises questions that need to be answered. As to breaching your wife’s confidence, is it not better that you should answer such questions rather than your wife? For if you will not answer, we must address them to her, and if she will not answer, she may well have to hear them asked again at the Assizes, in full public view. Is this not a better way, Mr Winslade? We have only your wife’s interests at heart.”

Peter’s instinct was to march out of the house at once, but the reasonable side of him could see the point. Was it not his duty to protect his wife to the utmost, even if it meant revealing confidences? “You will give me your word as gentlemen that nothing I say will be repeated outside this room?”

“Absolutely!” Willerton-Forbes said at once, as the captain nodded. “Michael, the Bible, if you please. You see, we are prepared for such a moment. I swear to you that not one word of this meeting will ever leave this room. In fact, once we all leave here, we shall never speak of it again, even to each other. Every precaution has been taken. We have sent the servants off for the day, even the boys who do the garden, and Mrs Edgerton is on guard to see off intruders. The talkative Mr Chandry is not here, you see, and although Mr Neate is as close-mouthed as a clam, even he is excluded. Michael, you must swear, too.”

Peter laughed. “Enough! I do not doubt your integrity, gentlemen. Very well. I do not like this but I agree to it as the least of all evils. What do you wish to know?”

For an hour, he told the two men everything that Phyllida had shared with him of those few days so long ago when Lord Saxby had seduced her, and of the months afterwards. He added also the squire’s tale of the bet, and what Lady Saxby had told Phyllida of that. They nodded and listened carefully, asking few questions. Edgerton took notes, but Willerton-Forbes merely listened, his hands resting on his stomach, his eyes glittering with interest.

At the end, Willerton-Forbes said, “And this is all that you know, unembellished?”

“It is.”

“Very well. Let me then tell you a story. It is one that fits all the facts as we know them, but it is a little different from the real story. Please remember that it is only a story, a figment of my imagination, woven from the warp and weft of truth but greatly embroidered, so pray indulge me by listening quietly. You will forgive me if I pace about, for when I am in my rôle as barrister I become an actor on stage and must have space.”

He rose and stood on the rug before the hearth. Peter would not have been surprised to see him raise one arm and launch into Shakespeare. But he began quietly enough.

“There are but two undisputed facts in this story. One is that Miss Beasley bore a child while unmarried. The other is that Lord Saxby engaged in a wager with his friends that he would seduce Miss Beasley, and claimed to have done so. His friends paid up. Anything beyond those points is mere conjecture, or depends solely on Miss Beasley’s word, so must, for the purposes of this exercise, be disregarded. Yes, yes, Michael, but without independent verification, we cannot say what is truth and what is not.

“Let us talk first of Miss Beasley, as she was then. Eighteen years old, very shy, living as a companion to her aunt, and somewhat looked down on by the local gentry. Poor relations always are, of course, and the aunt was not much better respected. She made her fortune as the mistress of an earl, it is said. Who knows whether there was any truth in that, but she was certainly eccentric.

“Miss Beasley had arrived in the village four years earlier, when her mother died. The aunt and her brother were her only relations in the world. Dr Beasley was abroad at the time, so the aunt gave her a home. Miss Beasley made friends with the girls of her own age, and naturally one of the subjects much under discussion was that of men. There were not many men in the vicinity to draw their notice, but one stood out — Thomas Saxby, the Sixth Baron Saxby. Unfortunately, he was married but then a miracle happened — his wife died, and he was free at last. This caused much speculation amongst the young ladies, for surely this time he would not expect a large dowry, so he would choose one of them. Miss Beasley determined that it would be her. No, Michael, do not interrupt. Your turn will come.”

Edgerton subsided, but Peter understood his frustration. He could see where Willerton-Forbes was leading them and it was abominable!

“Miss Beasley was not of a nature to display her intentions openly, but she did her best to hint to Lord Saxby, to no avail. He remained elusive, escaping to town for the season. So Miss Beasley concocted a cunning plan. Every year, the spring and summer fairs were attended by a group of actors, wandering players from Ireland who move from town to town. Among them that year was a handsome young man with all the charm for which his nation is famous. Miss Beasley selected him for her plan. The Irishman would teach her some seductive tricks, she would employ them on Lord Saxby and he would be obliged to marry her. The first part of her plan went swimmingly, and she learnt a great many tricks. Unfortunately, the inevitable consequence of such experiments then occurred — she found herself with child.”

Peter and Captain Edgerton sat in silence. The story had veered so far from reality that there was nothing to be said, after all.

“Luckily for Miss Beasley, Lord Saxby returned early from town with a group of friends. She was able to put her plan into effect with dispatch, inserting herself into Lord Saxby’s crowd without difficulty with her new skills. Lord Saxby, however, was a wily man and had been a baron long enough to recognise the stratagems young ladies employ to entice him. He had no intention of being so enticed, but he saw an opportunity to make a little money from it. He set up his wager, and three days later he allowed Miss Beasley to draw him aside into woodland. There he told her plainly that he knew what she was about and she would get no wedding ring from him. He took her home, collected his winnings from his friends and went straight back to London to betroth himself to Mrs Rycroft, as he had all along intended.

“Now Miss Beasley was in difficulties. She could not marry Lord Saxby, she had no intention of marrying a roguish Irishman, no matter how charming, and she had an additional problem — the Irishman was threatening to tell the world exactly what she had done. And so she killed him. She stove his head in with a stone, rolled him into a ditch and left him there.”

Edgerton gave a quick gasp of astonishment. “Pettigrew, are you insane?”

“I hope not. A little embroidery, that is all, Michael, but I was not entirely honest with you, for there is a third incontrovertible fact in the case.”

He withdrew a scrap of paper from his waistcoat pocket and laid it on the table. It was a cutting from a newspaper.

‘The body of the man found in the ditch on the Woollercott road has now been given a name. He is Thomas O’Riley, a man who arrived on the shores of this land from his native Ireland earlier this year to perform as a travelling thespian. He was missing when the troop moved on three weeks ago, and had been diligently searched for. All must be shocked by the tragic demise of an honest man who was bludgeoned to death with a rock for no apparent reason, since his purse and several valuable items remained in his pockets. No effort will be spared to find his black-hearted murderer.”