A gentleman of fortune

public the engagement. Publicity is much to be desired for Miss Bevan’s sake and yet…’

‘And yet he dared not tell his aunt of it!’ cried Flora.

‘Exactly so. I daresay he feared she would cut him off. And then, after she died…’

‘Why! Revealing the engagement would make the gossips say that he wished his poor aunt out of the way. Oh dear, how perfectly dreadful!’ Flora was sitting very straight upon her sofa now. Her hands held to her face. Whatever else the news of Mr Lansdale’s attachment had meant to her, it had certainly proved a cure for ennui. ‘Why, Dido! After Mrs Lansdale died, he had to keep the engagement hidden. He dared not let it be known.’

‘Quite so. Though I do not think silence suited his gallantry at all. I do not doubt that he was longing to make the announcement which would save Miss Bevan from her guardian’s officious schemes. And I rather fancy that it is only her opposition which has prevented him.’

‘Oh yes, for I am sure he is the most gallant man that ever lived!’

‘Well, I confess that I too am rather inclined to think well of Mr Lansdale after what I observed yesterday. You see news of this situation in Yorkshire burst upon him at luncheon. Clearly Miss Bevan had found no opportunity to tell him of it herself. At Brooke he discovered that Miss Bevan was to be sent away almost immediately. He could not allow it to happen and he was quite determined to prevent it. He wanted only her permission to announce the engagement to the world.’

‘But how do you know this?’

‘Because, my dear Flora, he asked for her permission while we were all in the drawing room.’

‘But he cannot! It is impossible! How could he ask her before all those people?’

‘I will show you how it was done.’ She carefully assembled her alphabets into three words: relative, license, solver. ‘These,’ she explained, ‘were the words that were made in our game yesterday. And there is a great deal of meaning hidden in them. This first one was the anagram which Mr Lansdale made and which Miss Bevan discovered.’

Flora stared at it. ‘Relative? What did he mean by it? Was he referring to his aunt? Or to Mrs Midgely perhaps…but no, he cannot have been, for Mrs Midgely is not a relative of Miss Bevan’s… My dear Dido why would he wish to say anything about a relative to Miss Bevan?’

‘He did not. Remember, the letters were not in this order when he put them on the table. Relative is only the word Miss Bevan chose to make, in order to hide his meaning from the others. This is the message which she really saw in the letters…’

With a few quick movements Dido rearranged the letters: reveal it.

‘Oh! Oh, Dido, how very clever you are!’

‘Thank you,’ she said feeling more gratified than she would have liked to admit – and perhaps rather better pleased with herself than the occasion merited.

‘But how can you know that she understood his meaning?’

‘Because she replied to him. This is the message which she passed back to him.’ She took the second word – license – and rearranged the letters: silence.

‘Oh! And the third word?’

‘That was my message to Mr Lansdale.’

‘Solver? You meant to tell him that you hoped to solve the mystery of his aunt’s death?’

‘Not quite – although that is what he pretended to see in my message. In fact he saw my meaning and knew that I had discovered his secret.’

She moved the letters of the last word: lovers.

Chapter Twenty

 …Well, Eliza, I rather think that Flora has had enough to distress her for a while, so I have very kindly allowed her to go away to dress for dinner without saying any more about the danger which I foresee in this engagement: that it might be thought to supply a powerful motive for Mr Lansdale to wish his aunt dead. For it is undoubtedly true that Mrs Lansdale was a proud woman and would not have looked favourably upon such a connection. It is very doubtful that he could have married Miss Bevan while his aunt was alive, without losing her favour – and her fortune. In short, the publication of the attachment would provide exactly that kind of damning evidence against the young man of which Mr Lomax spoke.

All this, I am sure, is clear enough to Flora, though I think it pains her to talk of it. I hope, for her sake, that this engagement can remain secret a little longer – and for his own sake too…

Dido laid down her pen and turned to the looking glass on the toilette table beside her, frowning at the little round face which peered out so anxiously from its dark surface. She had, from the beginning, prided herself upon being disinterested. She had set out neither to blame nor exonerate, only to ensure that justice was done by coming at the truth. Yet now she had to confess that she would much rather that truth was not Mr Lansdale’s guilt. And she did wish most heartily that his engagement might be concealed a little longer, for its publication would certainly bring a world of trouble upon his head.

‘But you have no proof at all that that trouble would be unmerited.’ That is what Mr Lomax had said when she talked to him about the matter yesterday.

They had contrived to have a few minutes conversation in the hall at Brooke while they were all waiting for the carriages. They were standing by the window watching rain slant across the terrace and the rest of the party were occupied with saying their farewells.

‘I think,’ he had urged her, ‘that you had better leave well alone. After all, my dear Miss Kent, what proof do you have of his innocence, beyond a pleasing person and very plausible manners?’ He stepped closer and spoke with gentle urgency. ‘Have you considered that Mrs Midgely might know of this engagement between Mr Lansdale and her ward; that it may have been the reason for her visit to Mrs Lansdale – she went to inform her of it.’

‘Yes,’ Dido replied quickly, ‘I have considered it. And I have also considered the next point which you are about to make.’

‘And what is that?’

‘That Mr Lansdale might well have wished his aunt dead before Mrs Midgely could call again and expose him.’

He smiled. ‘I doubt there is any need for me to argue against you when you can argue with yourself so well!’

‘I have certainly argued myself out of that explanation, Mr Lomax. For it will not do. Why should Mrs Midgely wish to put an end to the engagement? Is she not the very woman to be delighted by a connection with the powerful family of Lansdale? Would you not expect her to enjoy visiting the great house in Westmorland? And to enjoy talking about the visit afterwards even more? No, I am convinced she knows nothing of the engagement. She would think again about maligning Mr Lansdale if she knew that such a connection was at stake.’

He sighed. ‘It seems to me that you are not willing to countenance the possibility that the young man might be guilty!’

‘I am not so unreasonable! No, I will accept that he might be guilty…’ She hesitated, shook her head. ‘But, if he is, what of the lap-dog?’

‘Why do you believe the dog to be significant?’

‘Because its death proves that there were forces at work in Knaresborough House that night which were quite unconnected with Henry Lansdale. Indeed I am convinced that the killing of the dog proves that there were strangers in the house that night – for I can see no other reason for its needing to be silenced.’

He sighed. ‘You are very determined.’

‘And,’ she continued, ‘there are a great many things which Mr Lansdale’s guilt cannot explain – the burglary, and Jenny White and Mrs Midgely’s malice.’

‘Well, well, you may be right. But none of this makes Henry Lansdale an innocent man.’

‘Perhaps it does not, but it proves that his trial – that his conviction – would leave a great many mysteries