Death Comes to the Nursery Page 24

  “Sir Robert! Bert Speers is here, and he’s got Agnes!”

  “Damnation!” Robert said. “Is Mr. Neville Gravely here, too?”

  “He tried to get in, but Foley wouldn’t let him,” James reported. “Did you see him on the drive?”

  “I doubt he’s left if he thinks Polly is here,” Trevor entered the conversation. “How about I look around and see if I can find him while you deal with Speers, Sir Robert?”

  “Please, go ahead.” Robert nodded, and Trevor set off toward the kitchens. “Where is Lady Kurland?”

  “I’m not sure, sir.” James had already turned back toward the stairs. “Bert came into the nursery and took Agnes. Her ladyship came down to the kitchen to tell us. I’m just going up to see whether I can find Bert.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Robert said grimly as he checked that he had his pistol in his coat pocket. “Does Agnes know we moved Polly last night?”

  “Probably not, sir. She might have taken Bert to the wrong room, which might buy us some time,” James said. “Shall we go there first?”

  Robert’s gaze had already moved between the two corridors that radiated from the upper landing and alighted on what looked like a mob scene at one end.

  “There’s no need. I can see them heading toward Isaac.” He went down the corridor, almost tripping over Agnes, who was sprawled on the floor. Motioning to James to slow down, he advanced toward the group of figures currently arguing outside the locked and guarded door to Polly’s room.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, lad, but I need to get in there,” Bert Speers said.

  “I take my orders from Sir Robert, not you,” Isaac replied. “And he told me to sit here and guard the door.” He folded his arms across his massive chest. He was probably a foot taller and twice as wide as Bert.

  “Would you like to give that order, Lady Kurland?”

  As Neville joined the conversation, Robert went still as he realized his wife was locked close to Neville’s chest and that there was a knife at her throat.

  “I cannot,” Lucy said, her voice clear and steady. “Isaac is correct. Only Sir Robert can open that door for you.”

  “Not even if I slit your throat?” Bert asked.

  “You wouldn’t do that, now, Bert!” Isaac blurted out. “Why hurt Lady Kurland? What’s she ever done to you?”

  “For God’s sake, Bert. Don’t make things even worse than they have to be,” Neville pleaded with his conspirator. “I have no intention of—”

  Robert stepped out into the center of the hall and aimed his pistol straight at Neville’s head.

  “Then you will kindly let go of my wife.”

  “Gawd, now his bloody lordship’s here,” Bert said. “And the cat really is among the pigeons.” He held up a hand. “You don’t understand nothing, Sir Robert. Let me take Polly, and we’ll say no more about it.”

  “You, be quiet,” Robert snapped at Bert and turned to Neville. “And you, unhand my wife, or I will shoot.”

  “And risk her getting hurt in the process?” Bert asked. “I don’t think you want to do that now, do you?”

  It was Neville who moved first and released Lucy before he sank down to his knees.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Bert. I just can’t—” He burst into noisy sobs, his head in his hands.

  Bert’s expression was resigned as he stared at Robert. “I should’ve known not to trust a toff.”

  Robert kept his gun on Bert and spoke to Lucy. “Are you unharmed, my dear?”

  “Yes, I am.” There was a wobble in her voice that someone would pay for later, but his pride in her resilience increased anew.

  “Would you do me the kindness of attending to Agnes and taking her up to the nursery?”

  “Yes, of course.” Lucy went by him, taking a moment to squeeze his shoulder as she passed. “Do you wish me to send for Michael and any of the other male servants in the house to assist you?”

  “Yes, send Michael.”

  Robert waited until he heard Agnes respond to Lucy, and until the two women walked away, before he addressed Bert and a still sobbing Neville.

  “I am not going to make the mistake of letting you go again, Bert. You and your companion will face justice at the assizes for the murder of Flora Rosa and the attempted murder of Polly Carter. Surrender your weapons.”

  Bert sighed dramatically and glanced down at Neville. “It seems that I’ve been caught well and good, Sir Robert. Now will you hear what I have to say?”

  Neville slowly looked up and staggered to his feet, swaying like the wind. “No, don’t tell him, don’t tell him anything! It will kill my father!”

  “Your father is already dying,” Robert said bluntly. “Perhaps he needs to understand the legacy he has left the world in his youngest son. Isaac, will you escort Mr. Gravely down to my study, and James, will you accompany Bert? Mr. Harrington has already sent for the local constable. He should be awaiting us downstairs.”

  Bert took a hasty step forward. “What about Polly?”

  “She is none of your concern anymore.” Robert stared him down.

  “You don’t understand!” Bert shouted, and James stepped forward, grabbed hold of Bert, and slapped a hand over his mouth.

  “I’ve got him, sir.”

  “Good,” Robert said. “Then let’s get them both down to my study.”

  * * *

  Lucy walked Agnes slowly back toward the nursery and settled her in bed before returning to the main room, where Anna was playing with Ned on the rug in front of the fire. Lucy wanted to go to bed herself and forget about the terrible day, but as the mistress of the house, she had to make sure all her staff were content, and that her husband was no longer in any danger.

  “Anna, I—”

  She stopped talking as the tableau in front of her, which defied sense, slowly registered.

  “Lady Kurland, how nice of you to join us,” Trevor Gravely said heartily. Her sister lay motionless on the floor. Ned was currently being held tightly in front of Trevor, who had a gun to her son’s head.

  “Mama—” Ned tried to come to her, and Trevor yanked him back hard.

  Lucy somehow found her voice and looked directly into her son’s frightened eyes. “Stay still, my love. Don’t give this man any excuse to hurt you.”

  Ned’s lip quivered. “I don’t like him. He hit Auntie Anna.”

  “That’s because he is not a good man,” Lucy replied. “But if we do as he wants, I suspect he won’t hurt us and make matters worse.”

  “How well you understand me, Lady Kurland,” Trevor said. “Now, take me to Polly Carter so I can end this ridiculous farrago once and for all.”

  “If you release my son, I will willingly take you to her,” Lucy parried.

  “No.” Trevor stood up, taking Ned with him. “He comes with us.”

  “If you insist.” Lucy briefly closed her eyes as nausea gripped her, and turned to the door, her limbs shaking so badly that she wasn’t certain how she remained upright. She knew she should be asking Trevor to explain himself, but her terror for her son jammed her throat and threatened to overcome her.

  Despite her hopes for rescue, the house was surprisingly quiet as she walked ahead of Trevor toward the priest’s room where Polly lay. She needed to think of a plan to free Ned, but her mind was too sluggish. To add to her consternation, there was no one sitting outside Polly’s room guarding it and no sign of Robert, Bert Speers, or Neville Gravely.

  She stopped and looked back at Trevor. “I don’t know where the key is.”

  “I doubt that.” He met her gaze, his own eyes cold. “Find it, or I will hurt your son.”

  Ned whimpered and turned his face away, straining his body against his captor’s hold.

  “I am not lying. There is usually someone sitting outside this door who holds the key, and they are missing.” Lucy paused. “I suspect they are with Sir Robert and your accomplices.”

  “My accomplices?” Trevor chuckled. “I
suppose you are talking about my brother and Bert. I consider them more as my jailers, attempting to thwart all my schemes and make things so complicated that here we are, Lady Kurland, with you having to make a choice between sacrificing that baby in your belly and yourself for your son or letting me kill him.”

  “I—” Lucy glanced desperately at Ned, who had started to quietly cry. “I can go and find the key if you wish.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Lady Kurland. The moment you walk away from me, you will alert the house to my purpose, and hope that somehow you will save your son, Polly, and yourself. Please be advised that will not happen. If you want to save your family, you will have to offer up the sacrifice of Polly. And why not do that? What does a stupid serving girl from London owe you?”

  “No one deserves to die at your hand,” Lucy said shakily.

  “They do if they insist on interfering with what is mine,” Trevor replied and tightened his grip on Ned. “This is an old house; there must be another way into this room through the servants’ stairs. Find it.”

  Lucy took a deep, steadying breath and pointed to the end of the corridor. “We can access the servants’ stairs there and enter the end room, which links through into this one.”

  “Well done, Lady Kurland.” Trevor smiled down at Ned. “Your mother is quite remarkable, isn’t she? Lead the way, ma’am.”

  Lucy walked slowly down the hallway until she reached the door. If Trevor wanted to kill Polly, he would have to let go of Ned. Perhaps in that instant she could shove her son to the side and attempt to stop Trevor in some way. If she died in the attempt, then so be it. At least Robert would have his son.

  She opened the door, and it almost hit someone coming the other way. Even as she registered Foley’s presence, he held his fingers to his lips, and she stared straight ahead as if he wasn’t there.

  As Trevor stepped into the small dark landing behind her, squashing Ned between them, she pointed to the left. “We can go through this door, and—”

  Even as she spoke, Foley threw the chamber pot he held at Trevor’s head, and the gun went off, the explosion loud in the enclosed space. As Trevor cursed and attempted to right himself, Lucy tore Ned from his grip and shoved Trevor hard until he lost his balance and fell down the stairs with a series of loud thumps.

  “Mama!” Ned burst into tears as Lucy gathered him to her bosom and held him for dear life.

  She was shaking so hard she could scarcely breathe as a growing commotion erupted behind the door, which was suddenly wrenched open.

  “Where is he?” Bert demanded.

  Lucy wordlessly pointed downward, and Bert clattered down the narrow stairs, cursing as he went. Robert appeared, his expression frantic as he drew Lucy and Ned out of the small space and into his arms.

  “God . . . I thought I’d lost you . . . ,” he muttered into her hair. “Thank God.”

  “Thank Foley,” Lucy managed to reply. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s . . .” Robert met her gaze. “He’s been shot. Dr. Fletcher is on his way.”

  “He saved us,” Lucy whispered. “He hit Trevor with a chamber pot, which threw him off balance and allowed me to get Ned and push Trevor down the stairs.”

  “You were your usual remarkable and resourceful self,” Robert said, his voice still shaking. “And thank the good Lord for that.”

  Eventually, Robert drew Lucy and Ned to their feet. “I think we should put Ned to bed, make sure that Anna is recovering, and reconvene to the drawing room to hear what Bert and Neville have to say for themselves, don’t you?”

  Chapter 21

  “Trevor’s not right,” Neville blurted out. “He’s never been right. We had to leave India because he was caught torturing animals, and then we went through three different schools because he was so wild.”

  Robert was sitting beside his wife on the couch in the drawing room. He had his arm around her shoulders and didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of such a public display of affection. His butler had been shot, his wife and son terrorized, and he wanted answers.

  Bert, who was standing in front of the fireplace, nodded. “I first met Trev when he tried to kill one of the stable dogs. I beat him up, and he never tried anything again. He was afraid of me.” Bert shifted his feet. “That’s why when she was alive, the viscountess asked me to keep an eye on him when he was home from school.”

  “Of course, you worked at the Gravely stables after you left the orphanage,” Robert said. “You knew the viscount’s sons better than he did.”

  “Yes, sir. I left for a while to try and become a boxer, but it was a dangerous life. I came back and asked the viscount for a job when I heard he’d returned home for good.” Bert paused. “Why isn’t he here, by the way? I told you that if you’d just let me talk to him, we could sort this muddle out.”

  “I offered Viscount Gravely the opportunity to tell me the truth several times, and he declined,” Robert replied. “I suspect he was quite happy to allow you to take the blame for any murders committed by his son.”

  “Of course, he was, the cold-blooded bastard,” Bert muttered. “But why isn’t he here attempting to clear his son’s name?”

  Robert grimaced. “He’s currently under the care of my physician and had to remain at the rectory.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Neville asked tremulously.

  Robert grimaced. “When I spoke to your father this morning, I didn’t have the full facts in my possession. He grew very agitated when he realized that you were my suspect.”

  “He would,” Bert said.

  “As I left, he was gasping for air. I’ve since had a note from Dr. Fletcher to say that he thinks the viscount had some kind of a seizure.” Robert paused. “But Trevor spent a few minutes alone with his father before he came after me. It’s also possible that he tried to silence your father permanently before his valet came back and prevented him from completing his purpose.”

  Neville collapsed onto a chair, one hand over his mouth. “Dear God.”

  “Your father is hardly blameless in all this, sir.” Robert glared at Neville. “Perhaps you would care to start at the beginning and explain exactly how Flora Rosa ended up being murdered?”

  Neville looked apprehensively over at Bert, who nodded. “Might as well spill everything, Nev, and make sure that your brother is held accountable.”

  Neville bowed and got to his feet.

  “Trevor met Flora first, and he became obsessed with her.” He swallowed hard. “I’d seen this play out before, and the women usually ended up being . . . hurt, and I would have to pay them off. But Flora wasn’t interested in Trevor and kept him at bay until I became worried that he would lash out at her. I told Father what was happening and asked him if he could help because Flora wasn’t some prostitute who would easily be forgotten, but a rising star of the theater with many men vying to be her protector. She’d become afraid of Trevor, and she willingly agreed to accept my father’s offer of a house and his protection as long as she could continue her career in the theater.”

  Neville sat back in his seat and surveyed the room. “We thought that Trevor would back down, that Father asserting his power would make him find another, easier target, but he wouldn’t stop pursuing her. I ended up spending a lot of time at her house because she was so afraid Trevor would appear, and he ended up getting jealous of me and my father.”

  Bert started speaking again. “One night, Mr. Trevor followed Flo home and tried to choke her. She was absolutely terrified, and after Viscount Gravely declined to believe her, she knew she would have to get out of the relationship.”

  “Which is when I assume her friend Polly Carter suggested that Flora take her place as our new nursery maid?” Robert asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Bert nodded. “As soon as she could, Flo escaped from the house and went to my place, where Polly was waiting for her.”

  “Your place?” Lucy suddenly sat upright. “You own the house in Paradise Row in Bethnal Green?”
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br />   “I don’t own it, my lady. I rent it from the Gravely estate,” Bert replied. “It kept Flo safe for a day or so while Polly sold off some of her stuff to bribe Agnes and to pay Flo’s fare down to Kurland St. Mary.”

  “And you accompanied her,” Robert said slowly.

  “Yes, sir.” Bert looked down at his boots. “Someone had to keep an eye on her. I pretended to be in love with her so that no one would question me always hanging around and asking impudent questions.”

  “You were certainly very adept at that,” Robert commented dryly. “How did Trevor discover Flora was here?”

  Neville raised a hand. “I fear that was my fault. I decided to visit Bert’s house to see if Flora was safe, and Trevor must have followed me. Flora had already left for Kurland St. Mary, but Trevor must have gotten the key to the house from our land agent and found out something that led him to your village. He boasted that he knew where Flora was and that he would soon find her, whatever I did.”

  “I wonder if Polly still had Agnes’s letter with our address on it?” Lucy looked up at Robert. “Trevor could have found that.”

  “Seeing as Polly wrote that note to Flora, telling her that she had been unmasked, one has to suspect she did,” Robert said. “So, at some point, your brother Trevor gets away from you, comes down to Kurland St. Mary, and waits for the opportunity to murder Flora.”

  “Yes, Sir Robert.” Neville nodded.

  Robert looked over at Bert. “And what were you doing when Mr. Trevor Gravely abducted and killed her? Weren’t you supposed to be protecting her?”

  A tremor passed over Bert’s face. “I met with her in the village on her day off. She showed me Polly’s letter and said she thought she’d seen Trevor on the mail coach. I told her to go straight back to Kurland Hall and not leave the grounds until I gave her permission to do so.”

  He grimaced. “She never liked being told what to do, and we had a bit of a fight. She was thinking about running away again, and I took her purse off her so she couldn’t go anywhere.” He paused to look over at Robert. “That’s why it was hidden in my boot, sir, but I couldn’t tell you that because I knew what you’d think. I marched Flo back toward the hall, arguing all the way, and waited until she entered the grounds before I left to get back to work and see if I could find any trace of Trevor.