A Woman of Consequence

months ago and, when Laurence heard the tale of his new acquaintance’s divorce, he remembered the coming of the governess to Madderstone. That is what prompted him to begin his enquiries.’

‘I see.’

Harriet and Silas could now be heard talking on the landing.

‘And all this,’ Dido ran on hurriedly, ‘argues for Lord Congreve wishing for information about the fate of his wife – and that of course rather rules out his having murdered her.’

‘That is soundly reasoned,’ he acknowledged. ‘But if Congreve is not the murderer, then who is it that you suspect? And why should you believe Congreve’s latest commission to Laurence to be so dangerous, if he only wishes for the business to be covered up?’

A hand turned the lock of the parlour door. ‘Because,’ Dido said urgently, ‘Lady Congreve was a remarkably clever woman. I have been thinking it all over for half the night, and I believe that Captain Laurence has not yet discovered her most dangerous secret. And it is,’ she added, ‘of the greatest importance that he never does discover it. That is why he must not be allowed to find the missing letters.’

Harriet and Silas were actually in the room now; but, fortunately, they were too busy arguing over whether Silas should wear a flannel waistcoat for the journey to take any notice of the couple in the window seat. Lomax leant close and, in his anxiety, laid his hand upon Dido’s arm. ‘Why?’ he whispered. ‘What do you fear the letters might reveal?’

‘I fear they will reveal that His Lordship is mistaken in thinking his wife stole nothing from him. You see, Mr Lomax, I believe that when Lady Congreve left her husband’s house she defied those laws which said she could take nothing. She took with her something of very great value indeed – something which was the cause of her death. And, if her husband ever discovers that she robbed him, he will stop at nothing to retrieve his property.’

‘Good God! Explain yourself, please! I do not like to see you involving yourself with the affairs of such a man as Congreve. I would advise against it if I dared, but I fear my very opposition would make you more determined …’ Without his knowing it, the pressure of his fingers on her arm increased and their urgent warmth moved her more than any words of persuasion.

‘But I cannot explain it yet,’ she answered regretfully, ‘for I do not yet understand it all myself. I must send a message to Great Farleigh immediately; and I need to find out who stole the letters and the ring; and I must look again at the pieces of gold and silver which were taken from the lake …’

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The last hour in Bath passed in a muddle of rapidly packed boxes and conflicting anxieties. Dido knew not whether to worry most about Captain Laurence speeding towards Madderstone ahead of them, or the ideas which were swarming through her head – or the effect which the communication of those ideas had had upon Mr Lomax.

And, at the end, the drawing up of the chaise at the door took her entirely by surprise and she ran down the stairs into the dark passageway with a band-box in her hand and the ribbons of her bonnet still untied – to find Lomax himself waiting for her in the gloom.

With an urgency which was surprising – but not entirely unpleasant – he seized her free hand and drew her around the end of the screen. The public parlour – a black-beamed room with high settles and smoke-yellowed plaster – was empty now, but for an old grey deerhound stretched out upon the dirty flags in a patch of sunlight. Mr Lomax took the band-box from her and set it down on a table scarred with the notches made to reckon card games and the sticky rings of tankards.

‘Miss Kent,’ he said quickly, ‘you must take great care that Congreve does not know what you are about. He is a vile man. You cannot conceive what he is capable of.’

‘I have seen that young woman’s face.’ she said quietly, ‘I can believe him capable of any evil. But do not fear. If all goes well, he will suspect nothing – he will continue to have no interest in Madderstone. And if all does not go well …’ She hesitated. ‘If Captain Laurence succeeds in finding the letters, then there may be danger – but not for me. It is someone else who will be at risk.’

‘Who?’

She shrugged up her shoulders. ‘I do not yet know. But someone else at Madderstone has a great secret to hide. From the beginning, someone has been working against me: stealing the letters and the ring, attempting to stop me from discovering the truth.’

‘The murderer?’

‘No, I am almost certain that the person who killed Lady Congreve has already answered for that crime in the highest court of all. The murderer, I am sure, is dead – but someone yet living wishes the identity of the killer to remain hidden.’

The horses were stamping outside now and Harriet was calling out that time and tide waited for no one. Lomax studied Dido’s face closely, his expression very grave. She was still unable to tell how her revelations had affected him. Was he angry, or only concerned for her safety?

‘There is one question which I must ask you,’ he said, with quiet urgency. ‘There is one very important subject we have not yet talked of – and that is, what do you mean to do when all is discovered? Will you approach the coroner? Do you wish me to act for you? I will be in Madderstone again in just a few days …’

‘Oh no!’ she cried in alarm.

His look told her that she had confirmed his worst fears. ‘You do not intend to take any action?’ he said quietly. ‘You mean to keep the identity of the dead woman a secret?’

‘No possible good could come of revealing it,’ she said quickly, ‘and there might be a great deal of harm. No, believe me, her identity – everything – must remain in the obscurity that she desired.’

His look darkened. ‘And you are to decide this?’ he said raising an eyebrow. ‘May I ask upon what authority you, and you alone, are to decide what is to be revealed and what is to be kept hidden?’

Dido drew herself away from him stiffly. ‘Upon the indisputable authority of my knowing what no one else has taken the trouble to discover,’ she said.

‘That is arrant nonsense!’ He passed his hand across his face. ‘You must inform the authorities of what you know. It is entirely contrary to the law to keep information to yourself when a murder has taken place.’

She stared up at him in defiant disbelief. ‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘Why do you insist that I must supply the coroner’s court with information you did not even wish me to seek out?’

The muscle moved in his cheek as he forced back angry words. ‘Because,’ he said, his face all stony composure and insufferable self-righteousness, ‘you are privileged to live in a civilised land and it is your duty to abide by its laws.’

‘But the laws of this civilised land did nothing to save the poor lady who died,’ protested Dido. ‘She lost everything she owned in order to protect her child from her husband’s cruelty and in the end gave up her life to guard her secrets. No, Mr Lomax, you must excuse me, I will not expose those secrets now, to satisfy laws which are wrong.’

‘Why, I am sure that every thief in the commonwealth thinks that our laws against burglary are wrong – and every killer would see murder go unpunished if he could!’

‘You would call me a criminal, because I will not agree with you?’ she cried with energy.

‘I would call you a criminal because you are intent upon breaking the law! We cannot, any of us, disobey laws simply because we do not like them.’

‘Can we not? Well, I certainly cannot do what I know is wrong simply because there happens to be a law about it.’

‘Oh!’ he cried bringing his hand down upon the table and making the band-box leap an inch into the air. ‘This is argued like a woman!’

‘I beg your pardon,’ she said coldly. ‘But I am a woman and it is hardly to be expected that I should argue against my nature.’ She picked up the band-box and turned away.

‘I am sorry,’ he said quickly, ‘I should not have spoken so violently. I only meant that these considerations fall far outside a woman’s usual sphere.’ The muscle moved restlessly in his cheek as he struggled for composure.