An Ideal Companion

For a moment or two she toyed with the idea of offering him the use of the comfortable, if somewhat antiquated, carriage that seldom left the shelter of the coach house, then thought better of it. For the time being she felt it might be wise to keep her good fortune to herself, at least from the vast majority.

‘Of course I don’t object,’ she assured him. ‘Sadly, the groom will have several extra errands to run in town this morning. I shall pen some necessary letters without delay so that I do not keep you kicking your heels here for longer than necessary.’

To her intense surprise she won a look of approval from the normally taciturn Dr Dent before he left the room. Unfortunately, she glimpsed no such expression on the Colonel’s face as he continued to bend over the cold, lifeless figure between the sheets, seeming to examine far more thoroughly than the doctor had done.

As she approached the bed she saw him slip a hand into the pocket of his jacket, before he moved over to the cupboard by the bedside and picked up the vessel that had contained the hot toddy. He raised it to his nose and appeared, if anything, grimmer than before.

‘Is something amiss, sir?’

When he turned to look directly at her again it was with the same fierce intensity, which made her feel hopelessly unprotected, as though she could conceal absolutely nothing from those eyes of his.

‘Was Lady Beatrice in the habit of taking strong opiates?’

Hugo could see at a glance that his question had taken her somewhat by surprise. All the same, she answered promptly enough. ‘Her own doctor prescribes a draught, I believe. She keeps it in the top drawer, there by the bedside. But I cannot imagine she would have needed it last night, not after the hot toddy I made her. It was very strong. Although she sometimes had trouble sleeping,’ she added after a moment’s thought, ‘so she might have added a few drops.’

Hugo continued to study her as intently as before. ‘And her sudden demise doesn’t come as a shock to you at all, Miss Harrington?’

‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, sir,’ she confessed, appearing distinctly troubled herself now. ‘Lady Beatrice admitted to me only quite recently that her constitution had never been strong. She frequently requested her own doctor to visit her here. As I mentioned before, she suffered a weakness of the heart and felt she might go at any time. Nevertheless I...’

‘You’re still shocked by the turn of events,’ he finished for her and she nodded. ‘In that case, Miss Harrington, it might be wise to permit Lady Beatrice’s own practitioner to examine her. After all, he would have been more familiar with the state of her health than anyone else.’

‘Yes, yes of course,’ she agreed after a moment, and then went directly over to the corner of the room to seat herself before the escritoire. ‘I shall send a letter with the groom. I need also to make arrangements for the funeral and get in touch with Lady Beatrice’s man of business.’

Hugo, who had been heading back across to the door, checked at this. ‘Yes, of course, you must,’ he agreed. ‘It might also be wise, as the lady was a person of some standing in the locale, to apprise the local Justice of the Peace of the unforeseen turn of events.’

The hand moving smoothly back and forth across the page stilled and a pair of soft brown eyes, clear and questioning, not to mention surprisingly trusting, surveyed him again. ‘If you consider that necessary, Colonel, then of course I shall.’

It was at that moment Hugo found to his surprise that he was not proof against that innocent, trusting look. ‘If it will help, Miss Harrington, I can visit the worthy myself and apprise him of what has taken place here. He will perhaps require the names and directions of those strangers residing under this roof last night. I see no reason why they cannot leave, however.’

‘Indeed, not, sir. After all, not one of you was ever really acquainted with Lady Beatrice, and none of you benefits by her death.’ A sigh, clear and carrying, floated across to the door. ‘Only I can be accused of being guilty of that, as will be revealed when Lady Beatrice’s lawyer is consulted.’

She was silent for a moment, then seemed to shake herself out of a brown study, and even managed a semblance of a smile as she looked in his direction again. ‘Thank you, Colonel. I have more than enough to concern me at the present time, without having to call on the Justice of the Peace. Sir Cedric Walsh lives in a large, stone-built house a mile or so out of town. I should be very grateful if you could visit him on my behalf and explain.’

Once again Hugo studied her for a long moment before finally leaving the room and returning downstairs to the breakfast parlour. One glance at the congealed mounds on the plate was sufficient to convince him that his breakfast was now cold, but he wasn’t unduly troubled. His appetite had deserted him completely, so he merely reached for the coffeepot as he resumed his seat.

‘Devilish thing to have happened,’ Tristram Boothroyd announced, thereby breaking the subdued silence. ‘Didn’t know the lady very well, of course... Well, hardly at all, really. But it just don’t seem right sitting here, eating her fare, while she’s—’

‘Oh, please don’t, Mr Boothroyd!’ Miss Dent implored. ‘It’s such a dreadful thing to have happened. And Lady Beatrice so kind to open her home to us all, too!’

Hugo refrained from remarking that, in his opinion, it was quite a different person altogether who was deserving of their gratitude. Instead, he drew their attention to the fact that, given the circumstances, they ought not to depart the house without at least leaving their directions in the event that contact with any one of them again became necessary.

‘But why should it, sir?’ The lawyer seemed all at once a little put out. ‘Dr Dent has given us every reason to suppose Lady Lindley died of natural causes.’

‘That might, indeed, be the case,’ Hugo conceded. ‘None the less, given the—er—suddenness of the lady’s demise, I think it might be wise to obtain a second opinion and suggested to Miss Harrington that she make contact with Lady Beatrice’s own practitioner without delay.’

‘Oh, that poor girl!’ Appearing genuinely distressed, Julia Adams rose from her chair. ‘I feel so wretchedly guilty having to leave her to deal with all this by herself. I shall go to her now and see if there’s anything I can do before we depart. And,’ she added on reaching the door, ‘I, for one, have no objection to leaving a note with my direction, if it’s of any help.’

* * *

Detecting the light knock on the bedchamber door, Ruth paused to bid enter, before sealing the missive she had been writing with a wafer. She then turned to see Mrs Adams slip almost tentatively into the room.

By her own admission the widow was no stranger to death. She had witnessed her father being placed in the ground only a few short days before and had buried a husband tragically not many weeks after their marriage had taken place. So it came as something of a surprise to see the look of almost stunned disbelief flickering over the attractive widow’s features, as though she was having the utmost difficulty in coming to terms with the sight that met her gaze.

A short time before Agatha had returned to the room and had respectfully drawn the sheet over Lady Beatrice’s face. Which was perhaps just as well in the circumstances, Ruth decided, studying her visitor intently, for a female closer to swooning she had yet to see!

‘Was there something you required of me, Mrs Adams, before your departure?’

The gently voiced enquiry, thankfully, seemed to break the trancelike state the widow had appeared to be under. She finally drew her eyes away from the direction of the bed only to place a hand momentarily across her forehead.

‘Oh, what must you think of me, Miss Harrington? I’m not usually so easily overset.’ She not only looked, but also sounded, now, deeply ashamed of herself. ‘It must have been the shock that perturbed me so much. The last time I saw Lady Beatrice she was so very much alive and well. I would never have supposed such a thing could happen. And without any prior warning, too!’

‘It was unexpected, certainly,’ Ruth agreed, feeling slightly uncomfortable herself now. Whilst her mind had been fully occupied writing those various urgent letters, she’d hardly been conscious of Lady Beatrice’s body lying just a few short feet away. She could appreciate Mrs Adams’s reaction now. It did give one a distinctly uncomfortable feeling sharing a room with a corpse.

‘Dr Dent informed us all that—that it was her heart,’ the visitor revealed hesitantly.

Having been imbued by Colonel Prentiss’s obvious scepticism, Ruth wasn’t altogether sure herself now. ‘Or some kind of seizure, we can only suppose. No doubt we shall learn more when her own practitioner conducts a second and more thorough examination.’

Having sealed the last of her letters, she rose to her feet. Time was pressing and she didn’t wish to be the cause of delaying anyone’s departure, though it had to be said this particular visitor seemed in no great hurry to leave. ‘If there’s nothing particular I can help you with, Mrs Adams, I must go down to the stables to ensure our groom has these before he sets forth.’

‘Oh, Julia, please.’ She spread her hands in a helpless gesture. ‘This has disturbed me more than I can say. And it is somewhat foolish of me as I never met Lady Lindley before yesterday! And unforgivable, too,’ she added, ‘because I came, specifically, to see if there’s anything I can do to help. I feel so guilty leaving you with all this to deal with. You only have to say the word and I shall be more than happy to remain for a few days.’

Ruth felt moved by the offer, because she didn’t doubt it had been sincerely meant. ‘That is most kind of you, but I’m sure you must be longing to return to your daughter. Lady Beatrice was no blood kin of mine, though naturally I’m saddened by her unexpected demise. The servants here at the Hall are all very loyal and shall provide all the assistance I need, I feel sure.’

‘Well, at least allow me to take those letters down to your groom. My bags are packed and I believe everyone is keen to leave as early as possible, so I’ll take this opportunity to bid you farewell, Miss Harrington. I intend leaving my direction with Colonel Prentiss. London might seem a long way away. But should you feel the need to make contact with me in the future, I should be only too happy to assist in any way I can.’

* * *

Thankfully, this sentiment had eventually been echoed by everyone, and an hour later, armed with the necessary information he required, Hugo was making the final preparations for his own departure.

After securing his overnight bags to the packhorse himself, he was on the point of mounting his sturdy bay, when he caught sight of a slender figure emerging from the kitchen doorway.

Dressed respectfully now in sombre black and with her hair appropriately confined at the nape of her neck, she glided across the cobbled yard towards him. As she drew close he could see there was little colour in what otherwise would have been a flawless complexion. Thankfully, apart from the unusual pallor, there were no other telltale signs of grief. The large brown eyes were bright and free from any suggestion of redness, and the perfect contours of a lovely feminine mouth were even curled in a semblance of a smile.

‘I’m glad I’ve managed to catch you, Colonel, before you leave,’ she said, while handing him a folded sheet of paper. ‘I’ve written down Sir Cedric Walsh’s precise direction for you, though his house isn’t at all difficult to locate. Simply stay on the main coastal road and you’ll see it, standing by itself on a slight rise. Julia Adams informed me that you asked for everyone’s direction,’ she added, when he made no attempt to speak.

He continued not to do so for a further moment or two while he studied the openness of a sweet face; a face that for all the world betrayed only two things to his searching gaze—trust and honesty.

Not for the first time during his short stay did he experience something deep within him stir, only this time it seemed stronger, reminding him of a feeling he had not experienced in many a long year.

‘Believe me when I tell you I’m more than willing to remain if you imagine I might be of service to you, Miss Harrington, should the local Justice of the Peace consider a further investigation into the death of Lady Beatrice is required.’

For a moment he thought he detected a glint of what might have been hopeful expectation in those lovely eyes, only for it to disappear a moment later as a distinctly wry smile this time touched her lips.

‘That is kind of you, sir,’ she uttered softly in a kind of resigned sigh. ‘But you must be longing to return to the comfort of your own home...and family. Should Sir Cedric choose to bestir himself and look into the matter of Lady Beatrice’s death, though I’m not altogether certain he will given his reputation for indolence, then I’m sure Dr Maddox and Lady Beatrice’s lawyer will offer me all the assistance I require.’ She held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, sir. It has been a sincere pleasure making your acquaintance, and...and safe journey.’

Releasing the slender fingers the moment he felt the first sign of withdrawal, Hugo then watched her until she had disappeared into the house. Not once did she attempt to look back over her shoulder, but as he reached the front gate and chanced to glance back over his, he saw that slender form staring out at him from the drawing-room window.

Unwillingly urging his mount onwards, he headed down the lane that led to the market town. Throughout his adult life he had been a man given to decisive action, someone continually admired for his clarity of thought and discernment, yet he felt anything but resolute now. Torn between a strong sense of righteousness and a surprising feeling of protectiveness towards a female he scarcely knew his thoughts were in turmoil.