The Ranleigh Question, page 7
part #2 of Lady Althea Mystery Series
“But surely it cannot have been merely the offer of a comfortable life – you speak of him with such affection.”
“Are you asking me if I loved my husband?”
“If I were, would you answer the question?”
Althea thought about it a moment and then said, “Yes, I will answer, and yes, I did come to love my husband. And, having had the experience of marital felicity, I will add that I cannot now contemplate a marriage without love.”
“And yet you will not name the date with me. You know that I love you.”
“I honor that sentiment more than I am able to express, but do not know if what I feel for you can reciprocate it.”
He gave her a warm look. “Come Althea, I am too old to gammon.”
“I’m sure a man of your experience knows that attraction is not the same as love.”
“Aha, now we come to the point. So I have not won your heart yet?”
“I suppose not.”
Althea noticed that Sir Neville had reined in his horse up ahead. The other members of the party had reined in beside him, awaiting instructions. “We shall discuss the matter further at another moment?” she said.
“Most definitely,” Norwich replied.
Sir Neville soon explained the reason for the stop. He had arranged for a light picnic to be served in a glen some distance up the path and was providing his guests with instructions. The party moved on, rearranging itself so that Althea now rode beside Lady Pickney and Jane.
“I was just saying to Miss Trent how very fetching I think Mrs. Gregson’s riding habit. Women with red hair can carry off positively any shade of green. One has to admire how Mrs. Gregson manages to keep it quite that shade of red – nothing faded about her – despite the fact that she came out with me in my season,” Lady Pickney said.
“The women with red hair that I have known seem to have the happy knack of avoiding gray hair altogether and simply fading into blonde,” Althea said.
“I think hair dye may come into play in this case,” Jane said.
“My thought as well,” Lady Pickney replied. “Not that I begrudge her her looks. Being married to a stiff bore like Gregson, she must have some occupation. Although I’m sure she has led her husband to believe the color is real. He is such a severe moralist that hair dye might just send him over the edge.”
“I understand entirely. He was not in charity with my more flippant comments,” said Althea.
Lady Pickney nodded. “His opinions are quite strict on the subject of female frailty. Mrs. Gregson didn’t have much choice, I’m afraid. She was taken abroad after that first season but returned unmarried still, and so I suppose her parents despaired. Mr. Gregson must have seemed a good choice.”
“Poor Mrs. Gregson.” Althea said. “It must be a relief for her to get away from him now and then.”
“I suppose she does what she can. In her case, I should have taken a lover long ago and been done with it,” said Lady Pickney.
Jane looked a little shocked, but Althea laughed. “Perhaps that is the reason for her visit to Ranleigh.”
Lady Pickney smiled. “Perhaps it is. Ah, up ahead must be the picnic Sir Neville promised. And not a minute too soon for my taste. There is something about riding that does wake up the appetite.”
As Lady Pickney was quite a round lady, Althea had no trouble believing her.
The picnic was set out in a clearing at the edge of a running stream. The trees that surrounded it were clustered in such a way as to provide picturesque shade rather than dense cover. Althea brought her pony to a stop and jumped down before a servant could assist her to dismount. She handed the reins over and then walked slowly towards the blankets and cushions set out for the guests’ comfort, enjoying the feel of the sun on her shoulders, the sweet smell of the grass and the feel of the warm breeze on her face. She could happily live outside during the summer. There was so much beauty in the natural world.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Mrs. Gregson said, startling Althea out of her reverie.
“I was just thinking how lovely the countryside is during the summer months.”
“So true. The thought of being cooped up in London at this time of year fairly makes me shudder.”
“I’m sorry not to have asked before, but where do you make your home when not in London?”
“We have an estate in the north. There is also a small property in Scotland, which has been in my family for several generations. I inherited it when my father died three years ago.”
“You were an only child, then?”
“Yes. All my other siblings died in childhood.”
“How distressing.”
“Not to me, I assure you! They were all infants and I frankly don’t have much recollection of any of them. Besides, I had several cousins close to me in age and near enough to supply me with playmates.”
“That is a consolation.” Althea was about to inquire further when she heard a commotion from the direction they had come. It sounded like the beat of hooves on the ground. She and Mrs. Gregson both turned.
A man on horseback approached and as he got closer, Althea was able to perceive the form of Lord George Verlyn. Verlyn and Norwich shared certain features and both had an air of authority, but even those whose partiality was decided in favor of the duke had to admit that his brother was more classically handsome. He also demonstrated a more open and engaging manner, which had caused more than one lady’s heart to flutter. Amongst the society gossips, it was an enduring mystery as to why Verlyn remained as yet unattached. Of course, Althea, privy to his real work on behalf of the government, could understand why Verlyn chose to steer clear of romantic entanglements. Still, it was a pity that no lady had yet stolen his heart. Althea wondered if this visit would prove definitively whether or not he had stolen hers.
Verlyn dismounted and bowed with a flourish of his hat to Althea and Mrs. Gregson. “Ladies, you have no idea what a lovely picture you make under the sylvan canopy.”
Althea and Mrs. Gregson curtseyed, and Althea said, “Very pretty, my lord. How delightful that you were able to join us today. Sir Neville informed us this morning that you were coming, but I don’t think we expected you quite so soon.”
“The delight is all mine, I assure you.”
Norwich came forward and clapped Verlyn on the back. “You made good time, brother. Come have something to eat and drink. You know most of the party, I believe.”
Sir Neville approached, wreathed in smiles. “Lord George, welcome, welcome. It is an honor to have you come to Ranleigh. Please, let me offer you some refreshment.”
The next half an hour was spent arranging the guests and the food to everyone’s satisfaction, and when the groups were finally organized, Althea found herself sitting next to Jane and Sir Neville. As they were more attentive to each other than Althea, she was left to watch the other members of the party and to catch snippets of conversation.
Lady Pickney monopolized Verlyn with several town anecdotes, while Mrs. Gregson fought for her share of the conversation. Mr. Gregson and Lord Pickney engaged Norwich in an apparently tedious debate about current politics. Althea could read Norwich’s boredom from where she sat. Mr. Smithson sat beside Sir Neville, but because of Sir Neville’s attentions to Jane, was left to look around in search of some occupation to pass the time.
He picked several blades of grass and began to braid them together. He was remarkably dexterous, Althea noted. Soon, he had a long chain of grasses that he wound around his finger and then his wrist. When he tired of this, he pulled his watch out of his pocket and began to toy with the fobs. Several of them had parts that opened or moved. Finally, he stuffed the watch back into his waistcoat. It was a fine silk waistcoat, embroidered all over with a design made up of classical columns and reclining lions. Certainly, a fanciful garment for a picnic. The design recalled a mythological story, but she couldn’t put her finger on which at the moment. Her father would be so disheartened to see how her Greek had fallen off of late.
“What do you think?” Jane said to Althea.
Althea realized that she had missed some piece of conversation. “I’m sorry dear, but I’ve been wool gathering. Of what are we speaking?”
“Sir Neville has proposed the week after this for a visit to the seaside. How do you like the plan?”
“It is delightful. You know that I have only ever once been to the ocean, when my father made a brief visit to Burnham-on-Sea to attend a very old lady stricken with pleurisy. And even then, most of our time and efforts were spent in the sickroom. It smelled strongly of vinegar, I remember.”
Jane shook her head. “My poor brother should have made more of an effort to take you about.”
“No matter,” Althea replied. “For I have you to drag me along on your adventures. How far is the ocean from Ranleigh?”
“Not two hours with a swift team of horses. I propose to set out early for Torquay so that we may dine at the midday and then stroll along the harbor for several hours before returning to Ranleigh for a late evening meal. How does that suit you, Lady Trent?”
“It sounds like a wonderful plan. I am all anticipation.”
Sir Neville then proceeded to announce the plan to the assembled group. It was met with general approval, except for Lady Pickney, who railed against Sir Neville for wishing to encourage healthful exercise when he knew that she was not a great walker. “You shall reduce me to skin and bones with so much perambulation!” she said with a smile.
After lunch, they took advantage of the fine weather to walk along the stream. Althea stopped to admire the small quick fish darting in and out of the rocks of the bank, and Verlyn took the opportunity to approach her. He waited until the others were some distance on, and then he said, “I hear from my brother that congratulations are in order.”
Althea looked up from her study and smiled at him. “Thank you. Has your brother also communicated the quiet nature of our engagement?”
Verlyn smiled in return. “He has. It seems fitting to me that he should have found the one woman in England who would hold him off. Everything comes so easily to him, you see.”
Althea noticed that, despite its charm, Verlyn’s smile had not accelerated her pulse perceptively and she felt a certain relief. Perhaps that flutter of excitement she had felt upon making his acquaintance originally was merely a fancy of the moment and did not portend greater attachment. “I can well perceive it. But you may be of some assistance in this matter, if you desire, for there are so many things I should like to know.”
“Such as?”
“Any number of silly questions that I have not had the temerity to ask him directly. For example, what was he like as a child? Was he a kind brother?”
“Most of the time. We fought, like all brothers do, particularly when he sought to assert his authority over me. I remember that, on one occasion, I shoved him into the lake in a fit of pique. Fortunately, he could swim, unlike the late baron.”
“You are very close, I perceive.”
“As close as we can be given my travels. But, may I usurp this conversation to ask for a description of how you found Lord Tunwell? I fear I may not have many opportunities for private conversation with you.”
“Of course.” Althea relayed the story, and when she was done, she added, “Your brother has the paper with him. We think it may be a map.”
“You may be right. Is there any place we could meet to discuss the matter with my brother when we return to the house?”
“There are some secluded walks in the rose garden. If one were to meet at an appointed time, a private meeting might be arranged.”
“Then I shall make arrangements. Now that that is settled, what other deep dark secrets do you desire to know about your betrothed?”
“Only the deepest and darkest, I assure you,” Althea replied archly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Later that afternoon, Norwich, Verlyn and Althea all found excuses to tour the roses. They met up at the end of a path, surrounded on three sides by large fragrant bushes.
“And how did you know about this secluded location?” Norwich asked Althea. His tone implied a certain level of suspicion.
“My knowledge is innocently acquired, I assure you. I find I cannot sleep past a certain hour of the morning and have taken to walking the grounds of Ranleigh. Besides, Jane and Sir Neville are often to be found here.”
Verlyn laughed. “Sir Neville was right to bring her to Ranleigh. Few women could resist such beauty and fragrance. It is most romantic.”
“I know of at least one,” remarked Norwich. “But let us get down to business. Althea, I assume you have given George the particulars of your discovery of the paper?”
Althea nodded.
Norwich pulled out his watch and flipped open the back. He handed the paper to Verlyn. “What do you make of that?”
Verlyn examined the paper carefully. “It looks like it might be a map.” He stared at the lines again. “Or perhaps a code of some sort.”
“If I may be permitted to ask, how long had the baron been under suspicion?” Althea said.
“Some months. He had friends in high places, and when we discovered that certain information had been leaked, Lord Tunwell was the logical candidate to have received it and passed it on,” Verlyn said.
“So you think his death was not an accident?” Althea said.
“It may have been or it may not. I cannot tell at this point,” Verlyn replied.
“One wonders, cui bono?”
Verlyn nodded thoughtfully.
“What would you have us do?” Norwich said.
“Nothing for now, except to observe our fellow guests.”
“Is there something in particular we should be on the lookout for?” Althea said.
“No, but I would be interested to know of any behavior that is out of the ordinary. Sir Neville plans a day expedition to Torquay, I gather. Ranleigh’s proximity to the harbor may hold some importance. Some portion of the fleet has been in port there since the war began,” Verlyn said.
Althea nodded. “If Tunwell’s death was not an accident, then the murderer must be one of the party or someone familiar with the estate. Likely someone the baron knew, because there would be no way to approach that section of the pond without being detected. The harbor at Torquay merely provides yet another mechanism of approach, assuming the assassin was not of the Ranleigh party. He could have escaped by boat, if he desired.”
“I admit that I find it hard to imagine anyone of our party a murderer,” Norwich said. “Anyone except Cruikshank, of course.”
“Cruikshank was here?” Verlyn said.
Norwich nodded. “He came to claim the body.”
“Nasty fellow. He might be capable of anything,” Verlyn said.
“Would someone please enlighten me as to why Mr. Cruikshank is held in such abhorrence? Other than scandalous behavior with women and propensity to spend money he doesn’t have, which my brief time in London would indicate is not that unusual, I have a hard time seeing him as a murderer,” Althea said.
“Don’t let that pretty face fool you,” Verlyn replied. “Apart from those vices you have named, you can add cheating at cards, dealing in contraband, and swindling green young men to your list.”
“Those are certainly heavy charges,” Althea said, “but what would make a man like that stoop to murder? And why now, when his uncle is staying at another man’s house? Surely, a murder in London would be much more convenient for Cruikshank?”
“But a murder in London has two disadvantages. The first is that Cruikshank would be easily suspected. He has lived on the expectations of his inheritance for years. The second is that Bow Street might have been called in to investigate,” Norwich said.
“Those are indeed disadvantages,” Althea admitted. Both she and Norwich had been privileged to work for Bow Street and so knew of the very extensive surveillance networks established by Mr. Read, the magistrate. “But if Cruikshank traveled to Ranleigh for the purpose of murdering his uncle, then we should be able to trace his movements. He would have stopped somewhere to rest his horses when going both to and from the country. Would he have had time to kill his uncle and then be back in London when the courier reached him with the news? For he couldn’t be sure of when the body would be found.”
“From your examination, when do you think the baron was killed?” Norwich said to Althea.
“Did you examine the body?” Verlyn said with surprise.
Althea looked at Norwich, but he refrained from comment. “Yes, I was able to do a cursory examination. Given the state of rigidity of the body, I would say he died that morning. Was Lord Tunwell usually an early riser?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. Why?” Norwich asked.
“If he was, his murderer might have followed him to the pond. If he wasn’t, then it is more likely to have been a prearranged assignation. Also, Sir Neville mentioned that he had seen the baron at breakfast, and Sir Neville is not particularly early to the breakfast table. Lord George, are you aware if any of the other guests are in a position to help his majesty’s government, like you are?”
“You think he was killed by one of us?” Verlyn said.
“Only a thought.”
Verlyn smiled ruefully. “I wish I was in full possession of that knowledge. However, the powers that be feel that it is dangerous for one man to know too much about other operations. I know enough to manage my own affairs, no more.”
“But you wouldn’t have been allowed to join us here if the government thought there was any conflict with your investigation of Tunwell’s death, correct?” Norwich said.
“They raised no objection to me coming here. In fact, they welcomed the idea.”
“Do they know about the paper in the watch fob?” Althea said.
“No. I wasn’t sure what to tell them until I had seen it myself. And given the vague nature of the communication, I’m not sure what to say to the Home Office.”
