A gentleman of fortune

…And so you see, Eliza, now I cannot help but suspect dear Mr Hewit. Which is very unpleasant indeed. I wish with all my heart that this business of solving mysteries would work out some other way and one had only to detect guilt in people one did not like. I am quite at ease suspecting the dreadful Mrs M, or even the whining Miss Neville. But Mr Hewit, who looks so very sad and talks so very gently and who is, furthermore, almost certainly in love with dear Miss Prentice, it is just too bad to have to wonder whether he is a murderer!

And then what am I to make of Sir Joshua being unwilling to talk about the mysterious Mr Henderson?

Is there, I wonder, some shame to be attached to knowing that gentleman? Shame seems the most likely cause of his evasion, does it not? And yet during the time of his residence in Richmond, Mr Henderson appears to have been entirely respectable – or else how did he associate with such people as Miss Prentice saw attending his parties?

All of which can only lead me to suppose that something has befallen him since his time here. An embarrassment over money affairs would seem the most likely misfortune to have overtaken him. Certainly his sudden removal from Knaresborough House, together with those other proofs of his limited means, accord well with his debts having been called in.

I wish I could discover more about Mr Henderson – in particular, where he is now. And, to this end, I have taken a measure which I do not think you will approve. I have written a letter of enquiry to the agents who let the house. But do not worry! I have not exposed myself. I have only said that I was acquainted with the gentleman during his stay in Richmond, that I borrowed from him some songs to copy and I am anxious to return his property – which, by the by, I thought a remarkably clever story! And I have asked whether they can tell me where I might direct the package.

I know you will dislike this deviation from the strict path of truth. But it is only a small one – and made in a worthy cause. And there is this to be said for my little lie: it will not inflict any pain. I only wish I could say so much for the rather large truth which I must now unfold to Flora.

You see, it is only right that she should know the secret I discovered about Mr Lansdale over the game at Brooke Manor; but I do not think that she will like to hear it. For I cannot help but think that it is only her very great determination not to know it which has kept her blind so long…

I have just taken my scissors to some old visiting cards and made a very tolerable set of alphabets with which to show her how the trick was done…

 Dido scattered her alphabets across a table in the breakfast room and Flora watched her in bewilderment.

‘I do not at all see how this can be necessary! If you would but tell me what you have to say, I daresay I would understand very well indeed.’

‘I have no doubt you would. But you might not appreciate my cleverness in discovering it,’ Dido answered with a smile. It would be best, she thought, to treat the whole matter as a game. She must, at any rate, not seem to think that Flora had any particular interest in the information she was about to communicate.

Flora looked out of sorts – which was not to be wondered at since her cousin was being so very mysterious – and the hood of the barouche-landau had leaked rain upon them in their return from Brooke – and this morning the rain continued to fall.

Beyond the windows, rain dripped disconsolately off roses and formed muddy little pools in the new flower garden. Within the pretty room the open netting box, the two discarded novels and the bound volume of Dr Johnson’s The Rambler which were scattered on Flora’s sofa spoke of her efforts to fill the dull, confined morning. The blank look on her face bore witness of her failure to do so.

She was in a mood to be diverted.

‘You say that you have discovered what it is that Mr Lansdale is uneasy about?’ she asked Dido.

‘Yes. It is a secret – something which, I fear, may well make the world suspect him of harming his aunt?’

Flora looked concerned, but, for all that, she said anxiously, ‘You did not ask him any horrid questions did you?’

‘No,’ said Dido virtuously, ‘I can set your mind at rest on that point. I do not believe I addressed a single question to Mr Lansdale yesterday. I did not need to. I only had to watch the things that he said and did, in order to discover…’

‘To discover what? Tell me! I declare I hate mystery more than anything in the world!’

Dido looked down at her alphabets and began to move them around the table with one finger. ‘To discover,’ she said quietly, ‘that he is secretly engaged to Mary Bevan.’

There was silence in the room. From outside came the sound of rain splashing on the glass and running freely down the gutters. Dido pretended to be intent upon her letters: forming them into little lines, breaking them up, rearranging them.

‘Engaged?’ said Flora at last in a tolerably steady voice. ‘How can you think so? No, he cannot be! I always know about these things.’

‘Ah, but they have been most anxious to keep it hidden and I do not think…I am sure you did not wish to suspect them…’ Dido continued to look at her alphabets. ‘You are his friend, of course you would not wish to suspect him of double-dealing.’

‘But it is just too shocking! Why ever should you think of it?’

‘Well,’ Dido ran on, keeping her eyes upon the table and allowing her cousin time in which to recover. ‘I have suspected it these last few days. There were hints. Miss Bevan’s receiving letters which she wished no one to know about was one – and then there was her choice of books. It is, in my experience, very unusual for an unmarried lady to read books upon household management, unless she is engaged and expecting soon to have a home to manage for herself. And then her reading about the lake country pointed out a possible connection with Mr Lansdale. Once that possibility had arisen, of course, I looked about for an opportunity for the engagement being formed – and I recalled that they had both been at Ramsgate last autumn.’

Dido paused and looked up quickly at Flora. To her relief, she seemed to be more wondering than distressed.

‘Of course,’ she continued cautiously, turning her attention back to the letters, ‘his devoting himself to such a good friend as yourself was another clue. He knew that there was no danger in paying attentions to you – for such a sensible and very happily married woman would not be misled by them.’

‘No. No, of course not,’ said Flora with at least an air of calm.

‘With you he was safe. And while he played that game, he hoped no one would suspect him of any attachment to Miss Bevan. Under cover of flattering you, he could pay attentions to Mary which she might understand, but which would pass unnoticed by everyone else. It was very cleverly done.’

‘Admirably! If indeed it was done.’

‘Oh, it certainly was.’

Dido judged that Flora might now be looked at again. There was a little heightening of colour in her cheeks but nothing else to suggest suffering. It was to be hoped that she really did care nothing for the young man beyond friendship. And Dido was very pleased to see that, if she did care, she was determined not to show it.

‘Well! I am sure it is the strangest thing I ever heard!’

‘I have been reluctant to believe it myself. But then, yesterday, all my suspicions were confirmed.’

‘How? Did you overhear them talking together?’

‘In a way, yes I did,’ said Dido with a smile. ‘I shall explain it all to you. Do you remember,’ she began, ‘the conversation at luncheon yesterday?’

‘Very little – except it was the dullest talk in the world! I do not think Mr Lansdale said anything at all.’

‘He certainly did not say a word during the last half of the meal. And do you recall the point from which his silence originated?’

‘No.’

‘It began after Mrs Midgely informed the company that she had procured a situation for Miss Bevan.’

‘Did it?’

‘Yes, I am sure that it did. And you see that news presented him with a terrible dilemma. Ever since it was decided Miss Bevan must go out as a governess I am sure he has been wondering whether or not he should make