Death Comes to the Nursery Page 17

  “I might ask the same of you.” Lucy rose from the table and went to shut the back door. “You didn’t mention that you knew where Polly Carter was living all along.”

  “What have you done with her?” Marjorie demanded, her hands on her hips.

  “Nothing. She left before we could speak to her,” Lucy said.

  “I don’t believe you.” Marjory’s gaze narrowed. “She said that if you found her, she’d be dead in a minute.”

  “What a peculiar thing to say.” Lucy blinked at her. “I am hardly likely to kill the woman I wanted to take on in my nursery.”

  “Polly lied to you.”

  “I am well aware of that.” Lucy remained with her back to the door, preventing Marjory from escaping. “I’m still not sure why all this subterfuge was necessary.”

  “Because Miss Flora needed somewhere safe to go, and Polly offered her the chance to take her job.” Marjory’s lip wobbled. “But Flora wasn’t safe there, either, was she? Which means that you and the man she was fleeing were obviously in this together.”

  “Which man?”

  Marjory glared at her. “You know!”

  Lucy rubbed her temple with her fingers and prayed for patience. “If I knew who had killed Flora, I would immediately inform the authorities and have him apprehended. How do you know Flora is dead?”

  Marjory opened and closed her mouth and then glared at Lucy. “Polly told me.”

  “And Polly immediately assumed that my family and the murderer were somehow in cahoots?” Lucy shook her head. “She couldn’t be more mistaken. Sir Robert and I are only anxious to speak to Polly to discover who killed Flora so that we can get justice for her.”

  “Polly said—”

  Lucy held up her hand. “Polly is mistaken. When you next see her, please tell her that she has nothing to fear from Sir Robert or me. If she had bothered to speak to us herself, she would’ve discovered that none of this ridiculousness was necessary.”

  “But—”

  “Please stop arguing with me.” It was Lucy’s turn to interrupt Marjory. “I am tired. I wish to go home, see my son, and settle down to await the arrival of my new baby. Instead, I am traipsing around London trying to help someone who is convinced I wish to murder her!”

  Marjory eased toward the table and pulled out a chair.

  “You sound a little overwrought, ma’am. Why don’t you sit down and put your feet up?”

  Lucy was no longer in the mood to be placated. “I’ll sit down when I return to my carriage, thank you. Has Polly been living here all the time?”

  “When Flora moved her belongings from Viscount Gravely’s house, Polly came here to take care of everything,” Marjory said. “She expected Flora to come back to London quite quickly, but then she heard about what happened, and she was afraid.”

  “Of me, apparently,” Lucy said. “Which is ridiculous, when she should have been afraid of whoever made Flora flee London. Who was that, by the way?”

  Marjory grimaced. “If Polly knew, she certainly didn’t tell me, and with everything that’s been going on, I’m beginning to be glad about that.”

  “You should be,” Lucy said severely. “Who owns this place?”

  “The Gravely family own the land and the houses.” Marjory seemed to have decided that Lucy was no longer a threat and was almost back to her chatty self. “Flora and Polly knew the bloke who rents this place. He let them stay here for as long as they wanted if they helped out with the rent.”

  “Have you met this man?”

  “No, ma’am. Polly did say that Mr. Gravely came down the street once with the rent collector, and she and Flora hid upstairs until he left.”

  Marjory jumped as male voices echoed in the hall and glanced nervously up the stairs. Lucy hastened to reassure her.

  “My husband and our family physician are here with me. You have nothing to fear.”

  Marjory didn’t look convinced, her gaze moving between Lucy, the back door, and the corridor that led straight through to the front.

  “If you want to go and find out what has happened to Polly, please do so,” Lucy offered, stepping away from the door. “Tell her that we mean her no harm and only wish to help.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Marjory hurried toward the door as if afraid that Lucy would change her mind. “I’ll tell her. I promise.”

  * * *

  “Well, I still think you should have made the girl stay until I was able to question her.” Robert repeated his point as he took off his coat.

  They’d left Bethnal Green and arrived back in Portland Square with time to dress for dinner and very little else. As it was their last evening in London, neither of them had wanted to disappoint their hosts by retiring early. The earl had extended an invitation to the Fletchers to stay on for another week, and Dr. Fletcher had accepted, which meant that Penelope would be traveling back with Robert and Lucy.

  His wife was lying on the bed with her feet propped up on a cushion and one hand cradling the small mound of her stomach. Despite her obvious tiredness, she was still managing to be remarkably obstinate.

  “Marjory would not have told you anything new. She was quite terrified at the thought of even meeting you.”

  “I would’ve done my best to set her at ease!” Robert protested.

  “There was nothing more to say. I was more interested in sending her after Polly to reassure the girl that neither of us had any intention of murdering her!”

  “Polly sounds like a fool,” Robert said. “Although why am I surprised? She is the one who thought up this ridiculous scheme to change places with an actress and foist that woman onto my household.” He tore off his cravat and threw it onto the chair.

  “We don’t know who thought up the idea. It might have been Flora,” Lucy objected. “Did you know that the house belongs to the Gravely family?”

  “How could I if you didn’t allow me to speak to Marjory?”

  “Oh, Robert, will you please stop being difficult!” Lucy snapped. “It was far more useful for us to divide our time while we were at the house to gain as much information as possible.”

  Robert started on his cuff links. “The house was full of Flora’s belongings. There were two bedrooms that had obviously been used by women, and one more masculine one. The man’s room was still undisturbed.”

  “Were you able to find out anything about the man?”

  “Only that he wasn’t a gentleman. He had only one spare coat in the cupboard, and a single pair of good shoes.” Robert wrapped his dressing gown around himself and sat on the chair facing Lucy on the bed. “Flora had an extensive wardrobe, but Polly’s room was cleared out.”

  “Thank you.” Lucy offered him a conciliatory smile. “One has to assume that Flora and Polly met this man through his connection with the Gravely family.”

  “I would agree with you, but one also has to ask why Flora fled from one Gravely-owned property to another.”

  “It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Lucy agreed. “Unless she thought Viscount Gravely would never imagine she’d stay that close.”

  “A double bluff?” He frowned. “Then I suppose it worked. We found Polly, not Viscount Gravely.”

  “Polly wasn’t hiding from the viscount. She was hiding from us.”

  He registered the irritation in her voice.

  “I find that as hard to believe as you do, my love.” Getting up, he walked over and sat beside her on the bed. “You might be a little severe at times, but I’ve never considered you a murderer.”

  She reached for his hand. “I want to go home. Robert. I am sick and tired of this whole business.” There was a catch in her voice that caught at his heart. “If the Gravelys and Polly do not wish to accept our help in solving this murder, we will do the right thing by Flora and bury her with dignity in Kurland St. Mary churchyard, and forget all about them.”

  “And let a murderer go free?” Robert asked.

  She raised an eyebrow. “As you are convinced that we have
the murderer locked up in the cellar of the Queen’s Head, such matters will be resolved when he comes to trial.”

  Robert studied his wife’s tired face. It was unlike her to admit defeat, and part of him was tempted to play devil’s advocate, because the involvement of Viscount Gravely in the matter had begun to concern him, too. But he wanted to take her back to Kurland Hall, see her reunited with their son and happy in her own home.

  “Then we shall leave tomorrow and put all this behind us.” Robert kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go to bed while I finish undressing?”

  Chapter 15

  “Ned!”

  Lucy took off her bonnet, knelt on the floor, and opened her arms wide to allow her son to run into them. As soon as the carriage set her down at the front door of Kurland Hall, she’d gone straight up the stairs to the nursery.

  “Did you bring me a present?” Ned asked as he kissed her face.

  Behind him Anna chuckled. “Are you not pleased to see your mama?”

  “Yes.” Ned kissed her again, his dark blue gaze fixed on hers. “But I like presents.”

  Lucy rose to her feet with some difficulty and patted her son on the head. “When Betty has finished unpacking, I’m sure there will be something there for you. Why don’t you go down and see if you can find your papa?”

  In truth, she’d spent more of her time in London purchasing presents for Ned than looking at the latest fashions, and she could only hope he’d appreciate what she’d chosen.

  “I’ll take Francis down to Mrs. Fletcher, ma’am.” Agnes came into the room, her expression gloomy, holding Penelope’s son by the hand. “I’ve packed his things.”

  “Thank you, Agnes,” Lucy said.

  Ned ran off down the stairs, and Agnes followed, leaving Lucy with her sister.

  “How has everything been in the nursery?” Lucy asked.

  “Ned has been very well behaved.” Anna smiled as Lucy took a seat beside the fire. “He missed you quite a lot more than you might imagine from his greeting.”

  “Did Agnes behave herself?”

  “She did her work, and she was never unkind to Ned, but she hasn’t exactly been a pleasure to deal with.”

  “In what way?” Lucy asked.

  Anna shrugged. “She’s just rather miserable.”

  “As well she should be after inflicting an actress on us instead of her cousin,” Lucy reminded her sister. “An actress who ended up dead in a ditch.”

  Anna winced. She had always been a more sensitive soul than Lucy. “Did you find out who she was in London?”

  “Yes, and a lot more, but Robert is convinced that he’s already found the culprit and that our trip was unnecessary.”

  Anna reached out to take Lucy’s hand. “You sound upset. Are you not feeling well?”

  Knowing her sister’s fear of all things related to pregnancy, Lucy managed to smile.

  “I’m just tired after having to put up with Penelope for two days in a closed carriage.”

  “Dear Lord, that would, as Father might say, try the patience of a saint.”

  “I forget how Dr. Fletcher manages to defuse the worst of her comments or laugh her out of the sullens.” Lucy sighed. “He stayed in London for another week.”

  “It must be quite vexing when your husband’s best friend marries the woman he was first engaged to and you have a duty to be nice to her,” Anna remarked.

  “It most certainly is,” Lucy agreed. “But she does love Dr. Fletcher, and it was her idea that he stay on for another week.”

  Anna’s face registered surprise. “There is no accounting for who one falls in love with, is there?”

  “No. And Dr. Fletcher does bring out the best in Penelope.” The sisters smiled at each other before Lucy reluctantly eased herself out of the chair. “I have to go back down, say good-bye to Penelope, and supervise the unpacking.”

  “Then I will come with you. I need to speak to Cook.” Anna linked her arm through Lucy’s. “I had a long letter from my new husband yesterday. He is already at sea and managed to send his missive from their first port of call in France.”

  “Is he well?”

  “Very well, and happy to be at sea again—although he tries to hide it.” Anna’s smile was a mixture of fondness and concern. “He does miss me, though.”

  “How could he not?” Lucy patted her sister’s hand. “But he can be assured that you will be well looked after by your family, and by his own, while he is away at sea.”

  “He knows that. After you have the baby and are settled again, I will go and stay with his family for a while. It will eventually be my home, so I am looking forward to becoming better acquainted with his relatives and the people who live in the valley.”

  “They will love you,” Lucy predicted.

  “One can only hope.”

  Below them, the hall was still littered with boxes and trunks. Foley stood in the middle of the mess, directing the two footmen as to where to take each item. For a moment, Lucy wondered why it was taking so long, and then remembered the lack of another pair of hands.

  “James is still locked in his room, I presume?” she asked Anna.

  “As far as I am aware, he is,” Anna confirmed. “And he isn’t very happy about it. Mr. Fletcher has been remarkably quiet as well this last week.”

  “I’m sure Robert will speedily resolve this issue now that we are home again. He cannot like having a member of the staff sitting idle,” Lucy commented.

  Anna went off toward the kitchen. Lucy continued down the stairs, avoiding the baggage, and went into her husband’s study, where she found Ned sitting on his father’s lap playing with the buttons of his greatcoat.

  She paused in the doorway to appreciate the two dark heads bent close together as Ned told Robert some long story and his father nodded along as if it all made perfect sense.

  Robert looked up first and smiled at her.

  “I swear Ned has grown an inch in a week!”

  “I have!” Ned visibly sat up straighter and puffed out his chest.

  “I believe you are right.” Lucy smiled at them both. “Has Penelope already left?”

  “Yes, did you wish to speak to her? Her son was balking at leaving. I picked him up, threw him into the carriage, handed Mrs. Fletcher back into it, and sent them on their way.”

  “I had nothing I particularly wished to say to her, so all is well.” Lucy gestured at Ned. “Do you want me to take him back to the nursery? I swear it is the only part of the house not currently being disturbed.”

  “I’ve got to change out of this coat, but I’m quite happy if he wants to come with me.”

  Ned nodded and took an even firmer grip on his father’s sleeve.

  Robert gently set his son on his feet and took his hand. “Then let’s go and see how Betty and Silas are faring in our bedchamber.”

  * * *

  It was another full day before Robert found the time to go down to the Queen’s Head. He’d released James from captivity with the strict instructions that he was to remain at Kurland Hall and not visit the village or his parents. If he disobeyed, Robert had already told him he would be instantly dismissed. Robert was fairly certain there was more to the story of James being knocked out, but on the long carriage ride home, he had come to the conclusion that James wasn’t a murderer.

  Which left Bert Speers . . .

  Robert alighted from his gig at the Queen’s Head and went inside to find Mr. Jarvis. The innkeeper accompanied him down to the cellar with the key and agreed to wait outside while Robert spoke to Bert.

  When Robert entered the room, Bert didn’t bother to get up from his seat on his pallet. His beard had grown in, and he looked even more ferocious than before.

  “You’re back, are you?” Bert sneered.

  “Indeed.” Robert leaned against the door, one hand in his coat pocket close to his pistol. “I was in London for a few days. I made the acquaintance of your employer.”

  “I’m employed here by Mr. Jarvis.
”

  “Perhaps I misspoke. Your former employer, Viscount Gravely.”

  “What about him?”

  “I understand that you used to work in his stables, and that at one point you were responsible for driving an actress named Flora Rosa from her house in Maida Vale to the theater and anywhere else she wished to go.”

  Bert looked at Robert with grudging respect. “You have been busy, haven’t you?”

  Robert shrugged. “As I mentioned, I am the local magistrate. I take any murder committed in my jurisdiction very seriously indeed. Why did you deny knowing Flora?”

  “You never asked me about any Flora.”

  “Are you suggesting that you were unaware that Flora, a woman you were acquainted with in London, and Polly Carter, a woman you also knew, had swapped identities?”

  Bert said nothing, and the silence lengthened until Robert grew tired of it.

  “You arrived on the same coach as Flora. Quite a coincidence, that.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, Sir Robert, you’re wrong,” Bert growled. “Flora wasn’t afraid of me. She was running from that other man I told you about.”

  “The mythical man who arrived in Kurland St. Mary, murdered Flora, and disappeared without anyone having seen him but you?”

  “Why don’t you ask your own bloody staff a few questions, sir?” Bert retaliated. “James and your precious Mr. Fletcher were hanging around Flora that day as well.”

  “Yes, and they saw Flora fighting in the street with you, not some unknown man.”

  “Then ask Mr. Jarvis and Mr. Haines about the man who got off the coach! That’s why she came to find me that last day. She wanted me to make sure he left her alone.”

  “Then tell me his name. You obviously know it.”

  Bert gave him a disgusted look. “I can’t because you’ll start meddling again and make things worse. I prefer to fight my own battles. When I find that scoundrel, he won’t survive for long, I can tell you that.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Robert held Bert’s angry stare. “I think it is all much simpler than that. You met Flora in London and wanted her for your own. When she refused to have anything to do with you, you followed her down to Kurland St. Mary and killed her.”