Page 12 of Secrecy (The Chaplain’s Legacy #4)

T he man had a cultured accent, that was Edward’s first thought. The second was that the fellow knew who he was. He was not, then, a hired guard who might panic or shoot accidentally.

“You will not shoot me,” Edward said with more confidence than he felt, but he did not move all the same.

The man chuckled. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“I am a peer of the realm, I am unarmed and I am fully entitled to be in this house.”

“The first I concede, the second is at present unconfirmed and as to the third, opinions may differ on the point.”

Now it was Edward’s turn to chuckle. “I concede your last point. May I turn round? My back is not my best feature.”

“Slowly, and stay on the ground, Lord Tarvin.”

Edward did as he was bid and saw that the man was standing just to one side of the window facing the house. He was a small man, a pistol in one hand and the other resting on a businesslike sword.

“You have the advantage of me, sir.”

“Captain Michael Edgerton at your service, my lord. Forgive me if I do not bow. A cocked gun is a delicate creature, not liking too much movement.”

“You could always uncock it,” he said.

The captain laughed. “Not yet, my lord. Let us complete the introductions. My colleague just entering through the window you helpfully left open is Mr James Neate. He will bow to you, since his pistols are still in his pocket.”

“You seem to have everything in hand, Michael,” Neate said, making a flourishing bow.

Edward could not help laughing at the two of them. “So what are you going to do, Captain? Arrest me? Send for the constables? Ring a peal over me?”

“None of those,” Edgerton said. “My lord, you look uncomfortable crouched like that. Perhaps you would care to sit over there with your back to the wall. Yes, keep hold of that gold bar. If you have that in your hand I need not worry about you reaching for a knife or pistol. James, check what is in the safe, will you?”

Edgerton sat on the floor, too, the pistol still steady in his hand, while Neate crawled over to the safe. “Some documents… purchase documents for properties… certificates relating to investments. Miss Nicholson’s trustees will want to know about these. The rest is the gold bars. Shall I count them?”

Edgerton agreed and for some time there was silence as Neate shuffled the bars about. “Seventy five,” he said eventually. “Seventy-six with his lordship’s. Some variation in size. They will need to be properly valued.”

“True,” Edgerton said. “Now put them back in the safe and lock it. I will keep the key.”

“Now wait a minute,” Edward said in alarm, as Neate instantly complied. “That gold belongs to Miss Nicholson, and it should be given to her, not left here.”

“Ah, yes, the question of who owns this is an interesting one,” Edgerton said, his grin revealing rows of gleaming teeth. “It is not for us to determine, that much is certain. You may keep that one bar to show Miss Nicholson, if you wish, Lord Tarvin, and you may want to have it valued. That will give you a rough idea of the fortune in the safe. But we do not want to linger here, and risk discovery. Shall we all repair to the Black Swan to discuss this further, preferably over a glass of something decent?”

“Is there anything decent at the Black Swan?” Edward said with sudden interest. “For there is nothing drinkable at the White Swan.”

Neate laughed. “Oh, there is, but you have to know how to ask for it. There is all manner of excellent wine that makes its way here from the coast, but the innkeepers prefer to keep it under wraps until they are sure of you. We have had some splendid brandy, have we not, Michael? Oh, for heaven’s sake, man, put away that gun. Here, take the key, and let us get out of here before someone spots us.”

They made their way back down the tree, Edward first, then Neate, and finally Edgerton, who made an effort to secure the window. They crept through the shrubbery, listening carefully for anyone arriving at or leaving the house, but all seemed quiet.

As they neared the end of the garden, however, Edgerton said in an urgent whisper, “There are people in the lane. Wait here.”

Neate pulled Edward down behind a small bush while Edgerton crept forward to see what was happening. He returned in a moment, not bothering to hide or lower his voice.

“Come and see,” he said grinning.

As soon as Edward showed himself, a figure shot forward, the skirts of her pelisse flying open. “Edward! Did you find it? Who are all these people?”

“Tess, do you think I told you to stay at the inn for my own amusement? Betty, Harold, take her back to the inn at once. Knock her over her stupid head and carry her if she protests. Ah, Deakin, there you are. You can help, too.”

“Edward, I—”

“Back to the inn! This instant!”

“But I want to know what happened!”

“And I shall tell you everything, but later. I must talk to Captain Edgerton first.”

“Captain Edgerton! I thought I recognised him. What is he doing here?”

“That, too, I shall explain, but later. Will you please go?”

With a rumble of laughter, Edgerton said, “Lord Tarvin, pray bring Miss Nicholson to the Black Swan. I believe she is entitled to hear our deliberations on this evening’s activities.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, making him an ironic little curtsy. “At least someone treats me as a rational person.”

With a sigh, Edward accepted the inevitable, and offered Tess his arm as they made their way the short distance to the Black Swan.

The Black Swan was not very different from any other modest inn, and Captain Edgerton’s parlour was no better than their own, for Pickering inns were unused to customers from the highest ranks. They found the captain’s wife awaiting them there, together with a blond Scotsman rejoicing in the name of Sandy.

The servants were dispatched to the common room to wait for them, for they absolutely refused to leave Tess unattended and go back to their own inn. Even Deakin stayed, for if Betty and Harold watched over Tess, he seemed to think it his duty to watch over them.

Food and drink were sent for and the table was soon spread with an array of edibles. Edward had eaten little over the last few days, his nerves stretched by anticipation, so now he found he was ravenous and tucked in as though he had not seen food for a month. Tess, meanwhile, was content to sample the rather good wine that was offered and nibble a cake. The rest of the group, having presumably dined well, merely sipped the wine.

As soon as the inn servants had withdrawn, Edward, still chewing, reached into a pocket of his greatcoat and pulled out a large golden bar.

Tess gasped, running her fingers over the smooth surface. “You found it, then! But where is the rest of it?”

“Still in the safe, and Captain Edgerton has the key,” Edward said shortly, between mouthfuls. “Seventy-six bars altogether.”

“Then I am rich!” she said, with a giggle of excitement. “When will you go and get the rest?” Then, with a frown, she added, “Why does Captain Edgerton have the key?”

“Ask him,” Edward said, cutting himself another thick slice of ham.

“I am holding the key to ensure that nothing vanishes unexpectedly from the safe.”

“Very well, but when can I have my fortune?”

The captain’s face was impassive. “That is an interesting question, Miss Nicholson. Is it indeed your fortune? That is the first point to be established.”

“Of course it is mine!” she cried. “It was my father’s, it is in the house he left me, therefore it is mine.”

“Unfortunately, we cannot be sure of that. There is a tenant in the house, so the gold bars may be hers. They may belong to some other person entirely, who is simply using the safe. We cannot say at present. It will be necessary to examine the records left in the office for some indication of ownership — receipts for purchase, for instance. It will be necessary to talk to the widow who rents the property. And it will be necessary to obtain permission from your trustees to do all that, since at present there is a very clear instruction that no one is to enter for any reason.”

“But if you tell my trustees, then they will take it all away from me!” she cried fretfully. “It is mine! They must not get hold of it!”

Captain Edgerton frowned. “If it transpires that it is indeed yours, Miss Nicholson, then you will have it.”

“No, they will have it, and then my husband will have it, not me.”

He still looked puzzled, and Tess gave a huff of annoyance. How could she possibly explain?

It was Edward who reached for the gold bar and picked it up, weighing it in his hands.

“This is solid gold,” he said. “Just like a gold coin, it has intrinsic value. One could take this to a bank or perhaps to a reputable goldsmith, and exchange it for coins or notes to the value of the gold. Anyone who owns such a thing has no need to ask for money or give reasons or wait for next quarter day. Anyone who owns many such things will be able to live life as he pleases… or as she pleases. A lady with such a fortune in her own hands may marry wherever she wishes, or not at all.”

“She might marry a man who is not a gentleman,” said Captain Edgerton, getting the point.

“Exactly so.”

“I am going to marry Tom Shapman,” Tess said.

“You want to marry a murderer?” the captain said.

“Tom did not murder anybody. He is entirely innocent, and once I have my fortune safe in my keeping, I shall get him out of prison and we shall be married. That was the whole purpose of Edward climbing trees and breaking into safes, to get my fortune for me so that I can marry Tom.”

“And that would be a disaster for both of you,” Edward said sharply. “On the other hand, if these gold bars simply become part of your dowry in the trustees’ care, then you will marry Ulric Frith and that would be another kind of disaster.”

“What is the objection to Mr Frith?” Mrs Edgerton said.

“He is simple in the head, and only interested in his horses,” Edward said. “I have been doing my best to prevent both these disasters, but the good captain and his pistols have sunk my plan.”

“Your plan?” Tess said in a small voice. “You were never intending to give me my fortune, then?”

“And have you run straight off and marry Tom Shapman? No, certainly not.”

“Then what were you going to do with it? Not hand it over to my trustees, in case I marry Ulric. So what did you intend to do with it?”

“Keep hold of it myself, and use that as a way to persuade you to marry me instead.”

For a long moment she was silent, then she burst out laughing. “You meant it, then, when you suggested that the other day? You really think I would marry you?”

“Better than Shapman or Ulric, anyway.”

“Not for me!” she burst out. “I could never marry you!”

“As you please,” he said, although again the pain of her words cut him deeply. “Then I had better write to Lord Rennington to tell him what we have found.”

“No! You cannot… oh, you are a hateful man!”

“Yes, probably, but I have your best interests at heart, Tess.”

She gave a squeak of pure frustration, jumping up from her chair to prowl about the room. “After all this effort, to be denied at the last moment! It was I who told you about the gold bars I saw in my father’s safe years ago. It was I who worked out that they were here. It was I who found the safe. I thought you were my friend, Edward. I thought you were on my side.”

“I am on your side, if you will only see it.”

“No, you are not. You are only on your own side. You want my fortune for yourself, that is all you have ever wanted, and you think to marry me to get your hands on it. Well, I shall never marry you, never! If you keep my money from me, then I shall marry Ulric and that will serve you right!”

“Tess, I—”

“Oh, leave me alone. I am going back to the White Swan, and tomorrow I shall go back to Durham to see Ulric. My betrothed, in case you had forgotten. It will suit me very well if I never see you again.” Her gaze swept the room. “Any of you.”

She stormed from the room, slamming it behind her.

Edward waited until he heard her footsteps disappear into the distance, then rang the bell for a servant. When he appeared, he said, “My valet, Deakin, is in the common room downstairs. Kindly ask him to step up here.”

When Deakin arrived, Edward said, “I want you to go to every inn in this place, which should not take long, and tell the head ostler in each that Lord Tarvin will be extremely grateful to him if he does not hire out a post chaise or horses to Miss Nicholson. I will see that he is not the loser by it.”

“Yes, my lord,” Deakin said, with the glimmer of a smile on his dour countenance. “Shall I obtain some manacles, also, my lord? Or strong rope to tie her up?”

Edward could not help laughing at the image this conjured. “I would not dare! It will be enough if she cannot escape from Pickering.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her to cadge a lift out of town on a farmer’s wagon,” the valet said.

“Nor would I, but she will not get far that way. If she truly wants to go, she will doubtless find a way, for she is an enterprising lady, but we will not make it easy for her.”

When Deakin had gone, Captain Edgerton placed another bottle on the table and a clean glass. “It seems as if brandy might be in order at this point.”

“Ah, good man,” Edward said, pouring himself a large measure, and then, on reflection, doubling it.

“Do ye truly want to marry that termagant?” Sandy said.

“For my sins, I do.”

The Scotsman spread his hands. “But why?”

There was a ripple of laughter around the room.

Captain Edgerton said, “I confess, I wonder the same thing. She would be a troublesome wife indeed, I should think.”

“Oh, yes,” Edward said easily, for he had long since come to terms with his own feelings on the matter. “She is the most prickly, irritating, contrary, infuriating, unpredictable and downright abominable girl I have ever met. She is also the most fascinating. I must have met her at Corland when she was still a child and forgotten her entirely, but now… now she is very much unforgettable. The instant I met her grown self, I realised she was unlike any woman I had ever known before, and within a week that I wanted to marry her. It is a forlorn hope, I regret to say.”

“Yer better off without the lassie, if you ask me,” Sandy said.

“But she is indeed fascinating, do you not think?” Neate said. “Have you ever before met a gently born woman who would prefer to marry a woodworker than a baron? And when denied the woodworker, she says she will marry the simple-minded fellow who only loves his horses?”

“I think she does not want to marry at all,” Mrs Edgerton said. “The woodworker and the simple man are both people over whom she has great control. The woodworker will have the natural respect of his class for the aristocracy, so she will be able to dominate him easily — at least at first. And the simple fellow who is only interested in horses — she would have the mastery of him, too. But you, Lord Tarvin — that is another matter. A marriage of equals, a marriage of affection, a real marriage — that she cannot stomach.”

“You say ‘at first’,” Edward said. “You think, then, that would change?”

“All men expect to be master in their own house,” she said. “So long as there is mutual respect, and husband and wife keep to their own spheres and do not try to interfere with each other too much, all is well, but I do not think Miss Nicholson would be very good at keeping to her own sphere, do you? She would be constantly telling her husband what to do, and a woodworker, however much he loves her, will eventually push back against such interference. And then she would discover all the disadvantages of her situation.”

“It would be the same with Ulric Frith,” Edward said. “He appears biddable now since he has his horses and no disruptions in his life, but if Tess marries him… I do not know how he would react. This is precisely why I feel Tess would be better off marrying me — or anyone else of her own class, if she prefers.”

Captain Edgerton refilled his wine glass, and sipped thoughtfully. “Miss Nicholson’s marriage notwithstanding,” he said slowly, “ it seems to me that we are in an awkward position. Lord Tarvin can claim that he broke into the house on Miss Nicholson’s authority, and… well, he is a peer of the realm, no one is going to transport him for it. As for us, we observed a man climbing a tree and entering a house, so we were merely acting as concerned citizens in preventing a theft. I do not like to admit to breaking into a house, but we could argue our way out of that. But what do we do now? Let us assume for simplicity that these gold bars are, in fact, Miss Nicholson’s property. We have been cut loose by Lord Rennington, so we have no right to pursue any enquiries regarding the late Mr Nicholson. But equally, we have been given no authority to act for Miss Nicholson’s trustees, either, and her marriage is absolutely none of our concern. Yet those gold bars sit in the safe still, and I hold the key. The question is, what should I do with it? I cannot simply put it back, nor can I give it to the widow who lives in the house. Whether I give the key to Miss Nicholson’s trustees or to Lord Tarvin or to Miss Nicholson herself, then I am in effect making a decision on how Miss Nicholson may marry, which I have no wish to do. How do I solve this conundrum?”

For a while they argued back and forth, reaching no consensus. Edward worked his way steadily through his glass of brandy, and then refilled it, saying nothing.

After a while, he said, “There is a way to remove Tom Shapman from the board.”

“Hang him?” Sandy said.

Edward chuckled, but shook his head. “He is not going to hang. He has an alibi.”

His words caused outrage. Captain Edgerton seemed like a mild-mannered man, but now he grew so apoplectic with rage that Edward truly believed that if Shapman were in the room at that moment, he would be in serious danger of being throttled.

It was Neate who calmed down enough to ask the obvious question. “How do you know that, my lord?”

“He told me so when I talked to him in York Gaol. On the night of the murder, he was ten miles away at a place called Gowland’s Farm. He walked there the day before, stayed overnight, walked back the next morning. Any number of people will vouch for him.”

Edgerton’s eyes narrowed. “How convenient! Relations, perhaps?”

“Not yet. He is courting the poultry maid so—”

There was another outbreak of outrage.

“Do you mean to tell me,” Edgerton hissed, “do you seriously tell me that the fellow is not even planning to marry Miss Nicholson? Even though he asked her father’s permission? And confessed to murder to protect her? Sandy, do stop laughing. Does the lady know of this?”

“He said it never seemed quite the right time.”

“So he would never have married her, anyway?”

“As to that, she has him so bedazzled that he might well do it if she pestered him enough. She can be remarkably persistent, and look what she has already persuaded him to do. I would not wager sixpence on the chance of him resisting her, if she sets her mind to it.”

Sandy was still laughing unstoppably. “I’m goin’ hame tae Edinburgh,” he said, wiping streaming eyes. “Ye English — yer all mad. Completely mad.”

Edward chuckled, too. “I know. It is ridiculous, is it not? But if we can get Shapman out of prison and married to his poultry maid, that will put a stop to that. Better for him, better for his poultry maid and better for Tess, too.”

“And better for you, too, my lord,” said Neate. “It shortens the odds considerably.”

“I think my odds are impossibly long, sadly, and I am not sure I see a way of protecting Ulric from her, which is what I set out to do.”

“I cannot see a way either,” Edgerton said. “But there is one very bright spot in all this swirl of subterfuge. If Shapman has an alibi for the murder, then we can go back to Lord Rennington and get permission to resume our investigations. If we can persuade him to allow us access to Miss Nicholson’s house, and with these businesses of Nicholson’s in the town we definitely have enough evidence to look at it, we shall be able to discover the safe and the gold bars legitimately, and there need be no mention of tree climbing or breaking in.”

“You will still have the problem of what to do with them,” Edward said.

“True, but it gives us a little time. Or rather, it gives you time to get Shapman married off, and to convince Miss Nicholson to marry you instead.”

“Good luck with that,” Sandy said, grinning at him, and raising his wine glass in salute.

Edward smiled, but he rather thought he would need more than luck. He would need a miracle.