Page 21 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #3)

‘All right, but for the Lord’s sake never repeat any of this to our mother or she’ll slay me,’ Richard said.

‘Well, William walked down to Warner’s Rents and asked Tabby the awkward question.

I imagine the woman knew the game was up, because sooner or later William was going to find out from some irrefutable source that it was nine months – and, besides, she might have been banking on his meekness and his besmitten state.

At any rate, she admitted the baby wasn’t his.

But, apparently, William found some backbone, and said in that case the wedding was off.

What else was said between them I can’t tell you, though I wish I’d been a fly on the wall – and, by the by, one more fly would not have been noticed in that cottage, I can tell you! ’

‘Get on with it, boy,’ Sebastian said.

‘At all events, words were had, and Miss Tabby lost her temper and flew at William, making a very nasty scratch down his cheek. He got other scratches on his hands trying to defend himself, though it speaks well for him that he wouldn’t use any force on her, just tried to keep her away from him.

Well, he grappled with her, and when she desisted he dropped his guard, and that was when she punched him, hard, right in the eye, and gave him that shiner.

At that juncture he decided there was no point in continuing the conversation and legged it.

He went the long way home, round Mop End, instead of straight up the hill, because he was still very upset about the whole thing – apparently he had really loved Miss Tabby, and to his disillusionment was added a broken heart – and he didn’t want to face anyone straight away. ’

‘So if anyone in Mop End saw him, that will clear him completely, won’t it?’ Alice said eagerly.

‘You have an unnerving grasp of criminal procedure,’ Richard said.

She shrugged. ‘It’s just common sense.’

‘But why didn’t he tell the police all this in the first place?’ Kitty asked.

‘Because he was ashamed, the big loon. Ashamed of having fallen for her wiles – his mother, apparently, is very proper and would be horrified at his making the beast with two backs outside the bonds of marriage.’

‘He should be ashamed,’ Sebastian said. ‘Even if this Tabby was Helen of Troy herself, there’s no excuse.’

‘Quite,’ Richard said briefly. ‘And he was ashamed of his stupidity in being gulled, ashamed of leaving her in the lurch with the baby, even if it wasn’t his, and most of all ashamed of being beaten up by her.

In all this wallow of shame, all he could think of to do was to make up a story and stick by it.

Of course, he was horrified when he discovered he was suspected of murdering Speen but, like a rabbit frozen in front of a stoat, when facing the terror of the law he simply stuck to his story all the harder. ’

‘So they’re letting him go?’ Kitty asked.

‘After they’ve checked the story with Tabby Mattock.’

‘But will she tell the truth to the police?’ Sebastian asked uncertainly.

‘I think she will,’ said Richard. He didn’t mention the five pounds – the fewer people who knew about that, the better. It was a large sum to come out of his allowance, and was William worth it? But he couldn’t have let him hang.

‘It leaves us with two problems,’ Sebastian said, after a pause. ‘The first is, what to do with William.’

‘We have to take him back,’ Richard said, but he looked at Kitty. It really was her decision, as mistress of the house.

Kitty was gratified to be consulted. ‘I think we have to, don’t we?’ she said diffidently. ‘Otherwise, it will look as though we don’t believe he’s innocent.’

‘But it will be very awkward below stairs – for him as much as anyone.’

‘Oh, well, we shall probably never know anything about that,’ Richard said. ‘Moss will sort it all out. A great household is like a swan. We upstairs only see the bird gliding along serenely. Downstairs they see the frantically paddling feet under the waterline.’

Alice laughed. ‘Clever, Richard!’

Kitty said, ‘What was the second problem? You said there were two.’

Sebastian looked down at his plate, where he was removing the last shreds from a mutton cutlet. ‘The problem, which I fear will haunt us for a long time, of who really did kill Speen.’

There was an awkward silence. Then Richard said lightly, ‘Oh, I expect it was some tramping man just passing through, and long gone now. Tried to rob him of his purse and hit him too hard by mistake.’

Actually, he had a different idea, but it was not one he wanted to share with anyone – or even, really, with himself. He changed the subject. ‘Who’s hunting on Saturday?’

‘I am,’ Alice said at once.

‘I think I’d like to go out, if there’s anything that will carry me,’ Sebastian said. ‘The fresh air and exercise will do me good. I’ve been feeling a bit jaded lately.’

‘I thought you didn’t seem in spirits,’ Richard said. ‘Giles’s two should be up to your weight, for half a day each. Archer can take one out, and you can swap over halfway. What about you, Kitty?’

‘I don’t think I’ll go out,’ she said, trying to sound casual about it.

But Alice protested, ‘Oh, no, you must come! It’s the last hunt, and we’ve missed so much of the season. Do come, Kitty! It won’t be nearly as much fun without you. Why would you miss it?’

‘I’m out of practice,’ Kitty said. ‘And Richard rides Apollo so well.’

‘I’m looking forward so much to seeing London,’ Giulia said, as she and Giles leaned on the taffrail of the after deck, watching the Queen of the Nile ’s wake turn the water from ultramarine to turquoise.

Day by day they were leaving Egypt’s heat behind and passing into western Mediterranean spring, but it was still warm enough on deck during the day – even warm enough to venture up after dinner for a little while.

Giles glanced at her. ‘Your English has improved so much on this trip. I think it’s as good as your mother’s now.’

‘Do you think I will pass in London for an English lady?’

‘No English lady looks quite like you. Even those with dark hair and eyes don’t have your particular glow.’

As soon as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

He had got over his initial awkwardness with her, which had been brought on by Mrs Antrobus’s well-meaning intervention.

And it had been his habit in former years to compliment her quite openly – as an older brother does a favourite younger sister.

But now she met his eyes and he felt the tension rise between them. The silence was uncomfortable.

She broke it. ‘Will I see you in London?’ she asked lightly.

‘I shall have a great deal to do on the estate when I get back,’ he said. ‘And I don’t go to London very often.’

‘ Quanto sei serio! ’ she teased him. ‘But did not you tell me your sister is . . . “coming out”? Is that what you say? Won’t you go to London for that?’

‘My mother will be bringing her out, yes. It’s mostly a female rite. We men have little to do with it. I shall have to be there for her ball, I suppose, in my father’s place. And perhaps for one or two other occasions.’

‘Then I shall see you, I hope. The ball – it will be magnifico , will it not?’

He laughed. ‘ Maestoso , perhaps, but also tedioso in the extreme.’

‘No, you cannot say so!’ she protested. ‘I know you, Giles. You are not such an old man to hate a ball. I have seen you dance.’

‘When?’ he demanded disbelievingly.

‘Years ago, at the Palazzo Visconti, at the Christmas ball. You were the last to leave the floor. I believe the musicians were falling from their chairs with tiredness but you would still dance.’

‘I was younger then,’ he protested. ‘And not a married man.’ Another thing he wished he had not said.

But she rode it out. ‘Does she not like to dance, your wife?’

‘I’m sure she does, but there have been few opportunities since our wedding.’

‘You must dance with her at your sister’s ball.’

I would sooner dance with you . He did not say it aloud, but the thought shocked him.

He had sent Kitty a cable from Alexandria to say he was on his way home, but apart from that he had not thought of her once.

He straightened up and stared at the churning wake, the darkening eastern sky, and wished he were travelling in the other direction. He did not want to go home.

‘We should go down,’ he said. ‘You’re getting cold. And we must change for dinner.’

She gave him a thoughtful look, but said nothing, only turned away obediently.

The sunset breeze was getting up. It fluttered the little wisps of hair at the nape of her neck, the ends that always would escape her chignon.

As she turned, her stole slipped from one shoulder and he caught it as it descended and put it round her; and had the maddest urge to kiss the back of her neck as he did.

This was bad – this was very bad. He cursed Mrs Antrobus for putting ideas into his head.

He went down the companionway in front of her and turned at the bottom politely as she stepped off.

Her hand was cold from the air on deck. Che gelida manina , he thought.

She met his eyes and he knew with certainty that she was thinking the same thing.

She, he and her parents had been of a party that went to La Bohème at the Teatro della Pergola at Christmas 1900.

Giulia had been wearing a gown of deep sea green beaded silk, with an ostrich feather dyed to match curling from her hair.

At the end of the first act he had taken her hand to help her up the steps of the box, and he’d said then, What a cold little hand!

Sung it, in fact – and she’d only laughed. Things were easy between them then.