A gentleman of fortune

As I have been sitting here tonight, I have remembered my meeting with Mrs Midgely in the post office. She told me then that, in Mr Vane’s opinion, four times the usual dose of Black Drop had been drunk. So, was some part of it introduced by Fraser while the chocolate was preparing in the kitchen?

I think that it may have been, and that he may share in the guilt of the lady’s death.

But how am I to prove that it was so? It pains me to admit it, even to a sister, but there are limits to my genius. I cannot yet come at a certain proof – or even a full explanation of the events of that night. And as for understanding the reasons  for Fraser’s deception – I have some strange ideas – half-memories of things I have been told, and unformed suspicions. But nothing more… However, I have confidence in my own abilities and I do not despair of soon achieving a complete understanding.

And, in all seriousness, I must attempt it, for I do not yet know enough, or understand enough to be of use to poor Mr Lansdale. I have a great deal still to accomplish if he is to be saved and I had better attempt to sleep before day begins to break and the importunate baby birds in the nests outside my window put an end to all hope of repose. I have a busy day before me.

Flora has rearranged all her engagements so that the carriage may be at my disposal all day. Do you see what a remarkable degree of consequence this business of mystery solving confers? Upon my word, it is almost as good as being married.

The last word brought her pen to a standstill, for, by a series of very natural and very painful connections, it brought her to Mr Lomax. And she had been trying all day not to think about Mr Lomax.

Her continuing activity in this matter would probably come to his attention. She hardly dared to hope that it would not. And if he discovered what she was about he would be angry and disapproving…extremely disapproving…

But it could not be helped. She certainly could not reconcile her conscience to leaving an innocent man to hang simply to save herself from an unpleasant scene. And there was nothing to be gained from worrying about the business, nor rehearsing arguments she might never be called upon to make.

She returned to her letter and did her best to think only of her plans for the next day…

I think the poor horses and coachman will be quite worn out by the time I am finished tomorrow, for I have a great many errands to perform. First of all I must send a message to Mr Lansdale asking him to perform a very particular favour. Then I must drive to Windsor and call upon Miss Bevan. I must fulfil my promise to Mr Lansdale and attempt to persuade her to an early marriage – although I am almost sure that I will fail. And I have besides several questions to put to her about Mr Henderson’s daughters – and about Mrs Midgely’s card parties. And then I must go to Sackville Street and ask the boy at Gray’s to repeat his description of the lady who enquired about an emerald necklace – and see how much he blushes. And finally, I must visit Miss Prentice once more and ask her about the beggar who was outside Knaresborough House on the night Mrs Lansdale died: it is essential to know on which side of the gate he was standing.

It was after five o’clock when Dido returned home in the afternoon, very tired, very thoughtful and very silent – a great deal too silent for the taste of Flora who had been waiting anxiously for her return.

There was no answer to be got at all to such questions as, ‘what have you discovered?’ and, ‘what can be done for poor Mr Lansdale?’ and only the information that a small package had been delivered for her drew even a smile from Dido.

‘Is the parcel of importance?’ asked Flora as she handed it to her cousin.

‘Yes, I hope it may be.’

‘Who is it from?’

‘Mr Lansdale.’

‘And what is in it?’

‘Something which I hope to return to its rightful owner.’

‘But what is it?’

Dido did not reply; but only sat down in the cool of the drawing room and pressed her fingers to her brow. Her head ached and she did not know how she ought to proceed. All her attempts at discovering exactly what had happened on the night of Mrs Lansdale’s death had led her to more puzzles and uncertainty. She wondered – she doubted – but she could be certain of nothing. What should she do? She dared not speak for fear of being wrong. And yet, how could she remain silent when Mr Lansdale’s life might depend upon her?

Flora watched her for a little while, biting at her lip in impatience. ‘Dido,’ she burst out at last, ‘this is not fair! Please! You must tell me what you know!’

‘But, my dear cousin,’ cried Dido helplessly, ‘I cannot. For the truth is I do not know anything. I suspect a great deal. But there is no certainty about anything. And to tell you of suspicions would be wrong, for I might be slandering the innocent – and doubting the honesty of people we both esteem…’

‘Who are you talking about?’ said Flora, catching at the suggestion immediately. ‘Dido if you know anything against my friends, then you must tell it.’

‘I cannot. It may, after all, be nothing.’

‘But you must tell! You cannot say so much – and leave me wondering.’

Dido hesitated, then decided upon disclosure – partial disclosure – in the hope of discovery. For there seemed nothing else to be done. Her heart was overburdened and she felt that she must speak – or else run mad.

‘Well,’ she said slowly, looking down at her own hands, ‘what is your opinion of Mary Bevan? You have known her for longer than I have. Is she to be trusted?’

‘Mary? Of course she is! I declare, I would trust Mary Bevan with my life! Why should you ask such a question?’

‘Because,’ said Dido with a heavy sigh, ‘because I cannot help but think that she has behaved a little – just a little – suspiciously throughout this whole affair.’

‘Suspiciously? Why, whatever can you mean?’

‘Flora, do you remember when Miss Prentice first talked to us about the evening Mrs Lansdale died?’

‘Yes.’

‘And do you remember her saying that she did not stay beside the window long because, just after she had seen Mr Henderson approaching Knaresborough House, Miss Bevan persuaded her to go away to Mrs Midgely’s party?’

‘Yes, I remember it; but I am sure I cannot see why you should think ill of poor Miss Bevan for only inviting her neighbour to a card party.’

‘But she did more than invite. By Miss Prentice’s account, she insisted.’

‘Well, and what if she did? I daresay she meant to be kind. She did not like to think of poor Miss Prentice sitting alone while there was company in the other drawing room.’

‘But she did not usually do so. I asked Miss Prentice today and she informs me that she had never attended one of Mrs Midgely’s parties before. She is not fond of cards. And I am sure Mrs Midgely did not desire her presence that evening.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because, my dear cousin, the rest of the company consisted only of Mrs Midgely herself, Mrs Barlow and Mr Vane. With Miss Bevan, the table was made up. A fifth would have been extremely unwelcome. Five people at a whist party is the most awkward number imaginable!’ Dido shook her head, as if by doing so she might rearrange all the troubling thoughts that filled it. ‘In short, Flora, I cannot help but suspect that Miss Bevan had another motive. I think she wished to draw Miss Prentice away from the window that evening – she did not wish her to see any more visitors arriving at Knaresborough House.’

‘But why? Why should she care what Miss Prentice saw?’

‘That is one of the many things I cannot yet determine,’ said Dido and lapsed into silence for several minutes. ‘You see,’ she continued slowly at last, ‘I cannot make Miss Bevan out. I see that she is very clever, but beyond that…’ She shook her head again. ‘Would you, for example, say that she is a well-mannered girl, Flora?’

‘Most certainly! She has the nicest manners in the world! She is a great deal better bred than her guardian – which I have always attributed to the colonel sending her to the very best schools.’

‘Yes,’ said Dido rather regretfully, ‘that is just what I would have said of her from my own observation. She has strong feeling I think, but she always behaves correctly – always keeps to the correct forms. When Mrs Midgely