‘And why do you say that?’
‘Well, you see, miss, I could read it. And I can’t read gentlefolk’s handwriting – it’s too clever for me – all loops and slopes and there’s no making sense of it. But this was clear and round and I could read “To Lady Montague” very well. Not that I tried to read it, but it just seemed to happen that I did – as I was walking up the stairs.’
‘Yes, of course. It is quite one of the misfortunes of being able to read, is it not? Sometimes we just happen to read things without hardly knowing that we are doing it.’
‘Yes, miss. That’s just how it is!’
‘So, I wonder whether you happened to notice if there was a direction as well as a name? The name of the house? The village? The county?’
‘Oh yes, miss. That was all there.’
‘I see. Then it must have been brought with the letters from the post office, not handed in at the door.’
‘Maybe, miss. I didn’t ask how it came.’
‘This is all very interesting. It is very kind of you to answer my questions so patiently, Jack. There is just one more point. Do you think that Sir Edgar read that letter?’
‘I think he did, miss. He had it in his hand, but I can’t be quite certain, you see, because just then Mrs Pugh came in with her ladyship’s outdoor things and Sir Edgar looked up and he saw me and told me there was no answer to wait for and I could go…’ He stopped and stared at her. ‘Miss? Have I said something wrong?’
‘I am sorry,’ said Mr Lomax as she finished her account of the interview, ‘But, my dear Miss Kent, I am as much at a loss as poor Jack to understand why you should be surprised to hear that Sir Edgar sent the boy away. The rest, I grant you, is very interesting indeed and requires a great deal of thought.’
‘No, no. You are quite mistaken. I was not shocked to hear what Sir Edgar said. The shock was rather that the maid should have brought in Lady Montague’s outdoor clothes. For we have been told that she did not take her walk that day.’
‘Perhaps she changed her mind at the last moment. Perhaps she had meant to walk out and so her maid brought her things, but then she found that she did not feel equal to the exercise.’
‘Perhaps she did, Mr Lomax,’ said Dido leaning forward eagerly in her chair. ‘But if that is the case, then Sir Edgar was the only one of the company who knew she was not going out. There can have been no talk in the house of her changing her usual routine if she did not decide upon that change until the last moment.’
‘Yes?’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘Miss Kent, what exactly do you mean to say?’
‘I am convinced that there are only two people who could have gone to the shrubbery at three o’clock. Indeed, there are only two people who could have killed the young woman. It was either her ladyship herself, or else it was Sir Edgar. Though how either of them could have walked out armed with a gun, without anyone remarking upon it, I am still at a loss to explain.’
‘You believe that the letter was sent by Miss Wallis?’
‘Yes. She wished to meet with her ladyship. But Sir Edgar read that letter. And there is no knowing whether he prevented his wife from keeping the appointment – and went himself instead – or whether the lady did go after all.’
Mr Lomax looked very troubled. ‘But,’ he said slowly, ‘it is possible that neither of them went. It is possible that the letter had nothing to do with the murder.’
‘But how could that be?’ she argued, aware that her words must be painful to him, but knowing she must speak them. ‘Everyone at Belsfield knows that Lady Montague walks in the shrubbery at three o’clock. And there was no reason to suppose that this day was different from any other. Who would be foolhardy enough to commit murder thinking that there was a witness close by?’
He passed his hand across his brow and tried again. ‘If the killing was a rash act of the moment. A flash of temper, perhaps. Then the killer might not have considered such things – and it was merely a matter of luck that her ladyship had chosen to take no exercise that day.’
‘But it was no impulse of the moment, Mr Lomax. It cannot have been. It was carefully planned to coincide with the ringing of the dinner bell.’
He sighed deeply. ‘Your reasoning, as I have observed before, is very astute – and quite without mercy.’
‘I am very sorry.’
‘No, there is no need…’ he began with a heavy sigh, and then stopped and sat for several minutes staring into the fire. ‘And why,’ he asked at last, ‘do you believe Miss Wallis wished to meet her ladyship?’
‘I think we both know the answer to that, Mr Lomax. Miss Wallis was housekeeper in an establishment set up for Mr Montague at Hopton Cresswell, was she not?’
His head jerked up sharply. His eyes were bright and his narrow cheeks slightly red with the heat of the fire. He watched her rather fearfully, as if trying to gauge how much she knew.
‘I am right, am I not?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly at last, ‘you are right. She was housekeeper to Mr Montague at Tudor House near Hopton Cresswell.’
‘And, forgive me for asking, but one of your duties has been to oversee that establishment, has it not?’
He nodded.
‘But there is something about Miss Wallis which I think perhaps you do not know, Mr Lomax.’ Dido avoided his eyes and looked down at her own hands folded in her lap. ‘She was expecting a child.’
‘How do you know that?’
Dido explained about the kitchen maid and the blue gown while he held one hand to his head and gazed at her in bewilderment.
‘Again I shall have to believe you,’ he said with a weak smile, ‘for we seem to have strayed once more into the difficult area of women’s dress.’
‘I am telling the truth, I assure you. And I am sure you will agree that it explains a great deal.’
There was a long silence. The clock on the mantelshelf ticked ponderously. The little dog sighed and stretched herself across the hearth. Lomax sat with his hands shading his eyes, almost as if he wished to hide his thoughts from his companion.
‘And you believe,’ he said at last, without raising his head or looking at her. ‘You believe that Richard Montague was the father of her child?’
‘Yes, I do.’
He sighed more deeply and passed his hand across his face again, almost as if her answer was a relief to him.
‘I believe that this liaison was the cause of Mr Montague leaving Belsfield,’ continued Dido. ‘And I believe that the young woman came here to plead her cause with her ladyship. Perhaps she intended to confide in her about the expected child.’
There was another long silence in which faint laughter from the drawing room could be heard. Eventually, Lomax raised his head and looked very earnestly at her. He opened his mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it.
‘There is something you wish to say?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘It is nothing. Nothing that ought to be said.’
‘But I think it should be said. Pardon me, Mr Lomax, but I believe you were going to object that a natural child is no cause for murder.’
He hesitated. ‘Well, of course it is very shocking,’ he said, ‘but…’
‘But?’
‘But, Miss Kent, we are not inhabiting the pages of a novel…’ He smiled and shrugged.
‘No, of course we are not,’ she said briskly. ‘And I quite agree with you that a sharp reprimand from Sir Edgar to his son, and a generous settlement on the woman would be more in keeping with the manners of the modern world.’
‘You are a remarkable woman!’ he said with a much broader smile.
‘Thank you for the compliment, Mr Lomax. But I do not think I am unusual in understanding the ways of the world rather better than men expect me to.’ She sighed. ‘But, you see, in this case, worldly wisdom has been
