Page 49

A little while later, after a most painful conversation with his friend, Marcus was tapping on his sister’s door.

She had not long returned from the ball she had attended, the footman had told him, and so he found her still dressed, with her maid at her side helping her to take off her jewellery and let down her hair.

One look at his face had her dismissing the girl with a mechanical smile of thanks.

As the door closed behind the abigail, Helena said, ‘In heaven’s name, Marcus, what’s the matter? Has something happened to Amelia? I have been told that you left the house in a terrible pelter a short while ago – I hope there has not been another attack or any sort of accident!’

‘No,’ he said heavily. ‘No, she is perfectly well, I am very glad to say. But she was at the Opera House masquerade – it will take too long to explain why now, more trickery of Lavinia’s that has fortunately misfired – and she witnessed Pennyfeather arresting Lavinia.

Arresting her for arranging the attack on Amelia, Nell, but also…

but also for Ambrose’s murder. I cannot…

Amelia understood him to say that Ambrose was poisoned.

It is not the sort of matter about which anyone would be likely to make a mistake, but… ’

He had sunk into a chair while he was speaking, suddenly aware of how drained he was after the emotional turmoil of the evening. Helena sat silent, but he could see the shock on her face, and almost hear her quick brain whirling as she struggled to comprehend it all.

‘Marcus, Ambrose died in a riding accident. You know that much, though you were not in the country at the time. I am sure I must have told you the horrible details. I know I did. He took Baphomet out late one afternoon when it was getting dark, and the horse must have put his hoof into a rabbit hole that was obscured by the dusk, and done so while moving quite quickly, because Ambrose was thrown and hit his head. Lavinia became worried about him when it grew fully dark and he did not return but the horse came back without him, and she organised the servants into a party to look for him. They found him at the edge of the Home Wood, with a wound on his temple caused by a rocky outcrop. He was cold; it’s always distressed me to think of him so cold and alone.

Nobody was near to him, there was no possibility of poison, just a stupid accident that could have happened to anyone out riding in such conditions.

Perhaps it was rather reckless of him to go out so late, though it pains me to say so.

No, no, it can’t be true; it must be some mistake. ’

‘Were you in the house when it happened, Nell? Was Mother?’

‘No, I was at school in Bath still. Mama was ill that winter, you know how the cold affects her, but she insisted I left her all the same after Christmas.’ She paused, as if struck by something, and then went on reluctantly, ‘Ambrose and Lavinia were not on the best of terms; they were arguing – or she was, you know he never raised his voice – and Mother thought it best if they had a little space. She kept to her chambers, I was away, they were alone except for Priscilla and the servants. But it cannot signify in the least. Ambrose cannot have been poisoned! It was just a foolish, petty argument about whether they should go up to London for the Season. One does not poison one’s husband because one wants to attend a few parties and he will not… ’ Her words trailed off into silence.

‘Most people would not do so, certainly,’ he said expressionlessly.

‘I dare say no more than one person in ten thousand would, but can you say that Lavinia is not that one person? I loved her once, and I cannot swear it. Not after the extreme way she has behaved towards me this Season, and her attack on Amelia. Nell, I think we need to speak to Mother about this now. Was she awake when you came in?’

‘Yes, I went to kiss her goodnight and see how she did, and she was reading comfortably, and seemed most caught up in her new book, which was making her laugh. I do not suppose she will be asleep yet; she said something about just one more chapter, and you know how she is when she is absorbed in a story. Let us go and see.’

A short while later, brother and sister were sitting at the end of their mama’s comfortable bed, and she had set down her volume with only a slight expression of regret and a wistful glance at it.

Marcus set out on his explanation, which he was aware was not as coherent as it might have been, but much to his surprise, his mother stopped him before he had told her very much at all.

He didn’t think she could possibly have understood him so quickly, but he was mistaken.

‘He found the proof then,’ she murmured rather blankly. ‘I truly did not think he would be able to.’

They both stared at her in astonishment for a moment, then Helena said in a bewildered tone, ‘Mama, you knew about this, and you did not tell us?’

‘You set Pennyfeather on to investigate, if I understand you correctly?’ Marcus put in. ‘I thought you would be appalled to hear all this, but you already knew ?’

She sighed and pulled her shawl more tightly about her thin shoulders.

‘I had a suspicion, nothing more than that. I did not tell you, my dears, because I thought that even if it were true, it could never be proved, and you, Marcus, had quite enough to worry over without that. If I had thought you meant to marry Lavinia, I must have told you, but I was sure you would never do such a thing. And I knew she would not make an attempt on your life while she still hoped you might be hers. Afterwards, if you have been foolish enough to commit yourself to her and you had thwarted her wishes in any way, well… I would have been most anxious.’

‘“Most anxious”? Mama, please explain!’ her son said with commendable patience.

‘I told Mr Pennyfeather everything a while ago, when he came to see me and by chance you were both out. He had called on me on purpose to warn us to be cautious around Lavinia – he said she worried him, and he thought her capable of anything, like many murderers he had met. He considered her entirely wrapped up in herself, in a way he had previously seen in very dangerous people. So I shared my fears with him, of how they were arguing that winter and how odd Ambrose’s manner was on the day he died – how he was not himself, and seemed confused and distressed, though he denied it.

I knew that the fall had killed him, but I thought there was something more – perhaps that if he was unwell, he might not have been able to control his difficult horse as he normally would.

Of course, he always went out riding on that dreadfully wild stallion at any hour if he was upset, and Lavinia knew that as well as anyone.

I thought it was just possible that she had given him something and then deliberately provoked an argument.

Told him… something shocking, perhaps. Lied to him.

And Mr Pennyfeather very kindly said that he would look into it, and went down to Somerset directly to do so.

Someone there must have known something all along and kept it hidden – one of the servants, maybe.

At any rate, he must feel he has sufficient proof. ’

‘I understand why you did not tell us, Mama, when it was just a vague suspicion in your mind and no good could come of airing it. But why did Pennyfeather not alert us to the fact that he meant to do so public and irrevocable a thing, once he had his precious proof? I cannot understand why he would not write us a note of warning, at the very least, if he could not find time to call on us in so important a matter.’

She said, taking his hand, ‘I think you may lay that at my door too, my dear. And I am not sorry for it. I told him that one of the reasons I had not shared my fears with you was that if you believed them to be true, you would feel obliged to confront Lavinia, because that is the sort of man you are: direct and honest. And if she truly is a wicked murderess, that would be the last thing in the world I wanted. If she thought you of all people had turned on her, I dare not imagine what she might do. This whole fantasy of a perfect love that she has created is dependent on you, and her fixed belief that she will win you over in the end. If you knew or even suspected that she had killed your brother, all that would be over and she would be furious – uncontrollable. That, I suppose, is why he made it so public. Even if she is released, she cannot think to blame you for this. Or me, for that matter, or Helena. Nor, surely, can she take revenge on us, not after being so exposed once already. And Mr Pennyfeather, he assures me, can look after himself. I promise you, I am most grateful to him, though I see you stare. I think he is a wonder.’

‘You’re a wonder too, Mama. And I understand why you feel this makes us safer. But at what cost – what of Priscilla?’ he said wearily.

She looked a little uneasy now. ‘My conscience is not clear there, but I ask you, is it safer for a child to grow up without a mother, or in the care of a mother whose solution to any opposition is to murder the person who stands in her way? I don’t know if I will be here to see what Priscilla is like when she reaches that awkward age, but I recall quite well enough Helena’s temper tantrums at fourteen or fifteen, and I cannot picture Lavinia enduring a fraction of them with complaisance. ’

‘Mama! Are you saying you might have murdered me a mere four years ago because I was occasionally a little irritating?’ spluttered Helena.

‘I’m saying I never would have done such a thing, because I love you and because I am a woman with a normal woman’s reserve of patience, which is to say a great deal – after all, I put up with your father for twenty years without felling him with a candlestick, and he was an infuriatingly stubborn, foolish man and drove me to distraction several times a day.

But I have no confidence in Lavinia’s patience, nor in her normality.

I think she is unbalanced, and might do anything if opposed.

So Priscilla must be better off without her, difficult as it must be for the poor child.

I only hope that you do not find yourself saddled with her at the very start of your married life with dear Amelia.

That would be a trial indeed, and must be prevented if at all possible. ’

‘Mama, have you forgotten that the engagement is not genuine?’ Helena asked a little tartly, still apparently smarting from the criticism of her younger self.

‘Isn’t it?’ Judith said comfortably, looking at her son with a twinkle in her eye.

Marcus felt a smile break out upon his face, despite everything.

‘In fact, it is real, my dears. It has become real, and I am so happy to be able to tell you. We have decided only this evening that we shall suit very well, and must be married as soon as possible. I think in my delirium, I may have mentioned a special licence, and next week as a date, and I believe she agreed. So you must prepare yourselves. It will be a great deal to cope with – planning a wedding, even the simplest of ones, and marrying, while all this trouble with Lavinia is breaking about our ears.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Lady Thornfalcon robustly. ‘What matters is that you will be very happy together, and I am excessively glad.’

‘And so am I!’ said Helena. ‘I like her enormously, and have from the very beginning. I mean to take credit for bringing you together, I must tell you!’

There was a flurry of embraces and kisses, and Judith and Helena were both crying a little.

Marcus would not have sworn that there was not a tear or two in his own eyes as he left them.

No doubt the next day would bring its difficulties, but he would face them.

He had Amelia, and could face anything – even the difficult visit to Bow Street he must now make.