guilty of doing anything wrong.’
Lomax stood for several moments, watching her closely as he thought. ‘And you believe that the magistrates should be informed of these suspicions?’
‘Oh! No. Not quite. For then, you know, the whole story would have to come out, and there is no telling what the upshot of it all might be. No, Mr Lomax, what I am proposing is that Mr Vane should be informed of these suspicions.’
‘To what end?’
‘Why, so that he might be persuaded into withdrawing his accusations, of course. He should be made to understand that if he insists upon taking the matter to court there might be very unpleasant consequences for himself as well as Mr Lansdale. It should be pointed out that, if everything was brought to light, he would look as guilty as Mr Lansdale. His habit of ingratiating himself with wealthy women is, I am sure, well known…the jurymen might suspect that he had hopes of a legacy from Mrs Lansdale…’
‘In plain language, you mean that Mr Vane should be threatened.’
‘Ah…Yes, I believe that I do.’
‘I see.’ He continued to watch her; but unluckily the light was behind him and she could not see the expression of his face. ‘And this,’ he said at last, ‘is what you mean to do? You mean to approach Mr Vane and threaten him into silence?’
It had certainly not needed the incredulity in his voice to make her modesty shrink from the prospect. She very much doubted whether all her sense of justice and indignation could make her capable of it. But she must stake everything upon the pretence.
‘It is not,’ she said, lowering her eyes demurely, ‘it is certainly not an errand which I – or any woman – would wish to undertake, Mr Lomax. But, as you have pointed out, I am alone, unprotected. I have no gentleman to act for me.’
‘This,’ he cried stepping back from her and bringing his hand down upon the balustrade with considerable force. ‘This is intolerable! Now you are threatening me!’
‘I am very sorry that you should think so, Mr Lomax. That was certainly not my intention.’
‘Pardon me for contradicting a lady, but I rather think that it was.’
She made no reply.
He had half-turned as he stepped back and now the light of a lantern was shining upon one side of his face. His warring emotions were visible in every feature. The muscles moved in his throat as he forced back furious words. She guessed that anger and humanity were fighting it out inside him; but did not suspect the rest of his torment. For she did not see how pleasantly the shaded light played across her own face, nor how the heat of argument had brightened her eyes and brought back the bloom of youth to her cheeks.
At last he let out a kind of groan. ‘If,’ he said slowly. ‘If I consent to act for you in this matter, Miss Kent. If I take it upon myself to approach Vane and to…bring all these matters to his attention, it will be purely in order to protect you from further…unpleasantness. You must understand that it does not, in any way, mean that I condone your past behaviour.’
‘No, of course not,’ she said quietly. ‘I understand that entirely, Mr Lomax.’
‘It is a great pity,’ observed Flora at breakfast two days later, ‘a very great pity that you should have been at so much trouble over this affair of Mr Lansdale’s. For after all, you know, there was nothing to be done and it has all worked out quite harmlessly in the end.’
‘Oh! Oh yes,’ said Dido looking up from the note which she was reading. ‘It was very fortunate indeed that Mr Vane should have failed to appear in the court and that the magistrate should have discharged Mr Lansdale.’
‘Well, perhaps,’ said Flora with a sly smile, ‘perhaps you might now agree with dear Mr Lomax that such matters are best left to the authorities appointed to deal with them.’
Dido laid down her letter with a frown. ‘Has he expressed that opinion to you?’
‘Oh yes, he told me all about it at Brooke – while you were talking with Maria, you know. But,’ she added, ‘he also gave me to understand that it is the only point upon which you and he disagree. Oh yes! We had the most delightful conversation about you! And he assures me that in all else you and he are in perfect accord. And as for your person,’ she finished, ‘you are quite the loveliest and cleverest woman in the world!’
‘Well,’ said Dido ungraciously, ‘when you and Mr Lomax next discuss me, you may tell him that I am not at all sure that I have changed my opinion of the appointed authorities, for they have shown themselves to be neither diligent nor clear-sighted in the performance of their duty.’
‘You may tell him whatever you wish yourself – he is to call here this morning. It is to be a farewell visit, for he returns to Belsfield tomorrow,’ said Flora – still smiling. ‘And so, since I am sure the two of you must have a great deal to talk about, I shall take care to leave you alone together.’
‘Oh no!’ Dido rose hastily from the table. ‘You will not do anything of the kind, my dear cousin, for I shall not be here to see Mr Lomax. I have another engagement.’ She picked up her letter. ‘It so happens that Mary Bevan has written and asked me to meet with her this morning.’
‘But you cannot go!’ cried Flora. ‘I am sure he wishes most particularly to see you.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Dido as she walked out of the room, ‘I think Mr Lomax will be very happy to find that he has missed me!’
This morning the weather was rather cooler than it had been of late. Small white clouds were drifting across the sky and a pleasant breeze pulled at the ribbons of Dido’s bonnet as she walked down the hill towards the green and the inn.
As she approached Mrs Midgely’s house she discerned Miss Prentice’s white cap at its usual station beside the window. She raised her hand to wave, but then, as she drew nearer, she saw that, for once, the lady was not looking outward at all – nor was she alone. Mr Hewit was there – sitting so close and talking so earnestly that his companion had no attention to spare even for the window and the activities of the neighbourhood.
Dido smiled. She could not but suppose that the gentleman must be saying something very interesting indeed to hold her attention, for there was actually a coroneted coach driving past; furthermore, just across the road at Knaresborough House, a wagon was drawn up on the sweep and men were carrying the trunks and boxes of new tenants up the steps.
Suppressing a desire to stop and watch the couple, Dido passed on, pausing instead by the big stone gateposts of Knaresborough and gazing up at the solid, peaceful bulk of the house. The breeze was rustling through the ivy on its walls and one thin column of smoke was rising from a back chimney. She recalled how she had stood here on that first day – and thought how very respectable the place looked. She had then had no notion of everything these red-brick walls might contain. She could not have predicted hidden passion, nor thieving, nor elopement, nor the daring charade which ambition had played out here… And she certainly could not have had any suspicion of that other, more terrible sin which she believed to have taken place here…
Of course, she thought as she turned and continued on her way down the hill, she might be mistaken – only Mary Bevan could confirm, or dispel this final suspicion. And very glad she was that Mary had agreed to meet with her and satisfy her curiosity. This last detail of her mystery might be something which she could never speak about to anyone else – she had certainly lacked the courage to enter into the subject with Lady Carrisbrook – but it was, nevertheless, a matter which she could not bear to remain in ignorance of.
As she came within sight of the inn she saw that the London coach was stopped on the green, attended with all its usual bustle of boxes and parcels being lifted up into the basket and horses being led out of the shafts and passengers hurrying into the parlour to eat and drink as fast as they might. Miss Bevan was sitting upon a bench nearby – which was what her letter had led Dido to expect. But what she was not entirely prepared for was the travelling cloak lying on the bench – and the corded trunk beside it. She frowned rather thoughtfully as she made her way across the grass, through the little throng of gossiping friends, dawdling lovers and darting children.
‘Are you going upon a journey, Miss Bevan?’ she asked as they shook hands.
