Page 84 of Murder of a Dead Man

Cecilia rocked her gently. “It’s all right, little one,” she said. “We’re here for you. We care about you.Sh-h-h. Whatever it is, we are here for you.”

Liddy sniffed. “But he’s gone and he’s never coming back!” she wailed.

“Oh,” Mrs. Vance said. “She’s mourning…Finally.” She dropped to her knees beside them.

The three women wrapped their arms around Liddy, tears streaming down their cheeks for Liddy and Mr. Montgomery.

CHAPTER 22

PLANS IN MOTION

On his return to The New Bell Inn, Sir James invited Mr. Ramsay and Mr. Stackpoole to dine with him in his private parlor.

“Mr. Stackpoole, I’m pleased to see you recovered,” James said as Young Stackpoole eased into a chair at the table.

“As am I!” he responded. “I cannot believe my father would do such a thing to keep me from meeting Mr. Montgomery. He is violently opinionated; however, I never would have thought he would have gone to such extremes as to make me sick. I have lost my father and that saddens me.”

“I believe it would sadden anyone,” James solemnly acknowledged.

Mr. Ramsay nodded. He took a sip of ale. “Ah gather from this invitation this evening you have some news to share, Sir James?”

“I do. There was a witness to some of the events that occurred after Lord Soothcoor left Camden Hall.”

“A witness?” Mr. Ramsay repeated.

“A child who I believe is ten, from what I remember of her family.”

“There is a child patient at Camden Hall? That isn’t right,” Mr. Stackpoole said.

“No, it’s not right, but she is there. Her name is Lydia Wingate.”

“What is wrong with her that she is at Camden Hall?”

“A mentally ill person will be a suspect witness afore a judge,” Mr. Ramsay warned. He crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pulling his features together.

“She is not—in any way—mentally ill. She has a prominent wine-colored birthmark on her face that her mother does not like to look at and—as she is looking for a new husband—does not like others to see she birthed a child with such a deformity.”

“Would that be Lady Millicent Wingate? The widow of Lord Edmund Wingate?” Mr. Stackpoole asked.

James nodded. “The child is bright. If Lady Millicent didn’t want to see her, she should have put the girl in a school.”

“Except that such a school sends their students home during the summer term.”

“And that would not have suited Lady Millicent,” James acknowledged.

“I think I read in the society papers that she has followed Prinny’s entourage to Brighton for the summer,” Mr. Stackpoole said.

“I’m sure the child’s father’s cousin, the Duke of Ellinbourne, will take her in. What we need to concern ourselves with is what she saw.” James told them about the argument she heard.

Mr. Ramsay leaned back in his chair. “The magistrate should take her statement.”

“There is a woman at Camden House, a Mrs. Vance?—”

“Ah remember Mrs. Vance. She signed Mr. Montgomery’s will. Smart woman, that one,” Mr. Ramsay said.

“Yes. She suggested Mr. Ratcliffe invested the Montgomery estate in Camden House.”

“If he did that, he would not want the executorship to go to another person.”