“Yes, and yes, you are correct on all counts,” Captain Everard said with a wry smile. “Oscar is aware of our interest in him and the doctor here has been telling me all about the workings of the mind.”
“Indeed,” said Doctor Netherfield, and he spoke gravely. “That young man is a danger to himself and to us all. There is more disorder in his brain than a dose of beauty and good food could possible cure – although such things would undoubtedly help. I would suggest that there is a severe inflammation in certain areas of the mind that influence his capability to engage in rational thought. He believes he is acting rationally, but he is not.”
“I quite agree,” Adelia said. “And I can see that action must be taken. My problem, and I know it is also my husband’s concern, is what form that action should take. And when.”
The men nodded at one another. Doctor Netherfield spoke. “We must get into the gatehouse immediately, this very day, and search it. The longer we delay, the more chances we give the lad to hide the evidence.”
“So we must get all three of them out,” Adelia said.
“Three?”
She could have rolled her eyes at them. Certain people really did treat servants like they were animated furniture. “You gentlemen can deal with Oscar. He will not pay any heed to me. As for Lady Katharine and her woman, I shall engage the formidable services of a certain Mrs Carstairs.”
Both men had been at the receiving end of that woman’s persuasive talents. It made perfect sense.
“Today,” Captain Everard warned.
Doors opened further down the corridor. A bell rang, somewhere. Breakfast was getting underway and the conversation was over.
“Today,” she promised as she walked away.
HALF A DOZEN CRYPTIC notes were sent in a flurry that morning between Plymouth and Tavy Castle, and at just after two in the afternoon, Adelia heard the crunch of carriage wheels outside on the gravel accompanied by the barking of an enthusiastic spaniel. She had seen all four men and Oscar at luncheon, but had no idea where they had all gone since then. She’d indicated to Captain Everard that their chance could come that very afternoon, and told him that they were to stay close and watch for their opportunity. He nodded. Apparently the afternoon’s plan was to “show the lad some hunting tricks that Percy had picked up on the Russian Steppes” though she was not sure how well those things would work in Devon. There was, for a start, a distinct lack of bears.
Still, it sounded like the sort of thing that ought to appeal to a man, although she noted that both Theodore and Doctor Netherfield looked a little thin-lipped at the proposals.
So she expected that they were all outside, crashing around in the undergrowth. She hurried down the stairs to greet Mrs Carstairs.
“Thank you for coming! Oh, Mrs Carstairs, I cannot explain everything to you yet, but first I must apologise for dashing off...”
“Oh, no, no, no my dear! I know all about you and your exploits. I have read the accounts in the press and though the good writers fade you into the background, I can see right through their admirable delicacy and know exactly what role you must have been playing. I am delighted to be a part of this! Will it be so terribly dangerous?” she asked with glee.
“I am afraid not.”
Mrs Carstairs’ face fell slightly.
Adelia went on. “We simply must come up with a ruse to draw Lady Katharine and her maid out of the gatehouse long enough for it to be searched for evidence. The good lady is not at all suspected of any part in any crime,” Adelia added hastily, still hoping that was true and they hadn’t all been the victims of the most elaborate hoax that century.
“Good heavens. This is still jolly exciting,” Mrs Carstairs said with a girlish giggle as she followed Adelia into the great hall. “Where do we start?”
“All good planning starts with tea and cake,” Adelia said. She caught the eye of one of the maids standing rigidly by the door to the back corridor, and nodded at her. “In the parlour, if you will.” She carried on talking to Mrs Carstairs as she led her towards the parlour. “Oscar Brodie is outside with the men, but it is Lady Katharine who will be our main issue.”
She got to the door but the servant hadn’t moved. She was looking towards Adelia, waiting for a chance to speak, biting her lip.
“Yes?”
“My lady, if you will forgive me, I heard what you said, and you probably ought to know that Mr Brodie is not outside. He has gone upstairs with The Countess.”
“Upstairs?”
“To the tower, my lady. He told her there was something he had to tell her.”
“Oh, no,” Adelia said, adding quite a choice stream of foul language in the privacy of her own head. “Mrs Carstairs, please go and find the men with the utmost urgency and tell them what we have just learned. Any of the men will do! I need to go after Brodie.”
“You have quite a habit of running off in a panic,” said Mrs Carstairs.
But Adelia was already too far away to reply.
THEODORE AND DOCTOR Netherfield lingered at the edge of a stand of willows. Doctor Netherfield sniffed the air and grimaced. “One does become so used to it, you know, the smell, and then all of a sudden it come over in a strong wave and one wonders how on earth one missed it before.”
“Quite so. Such a phenomenon interests me greatly,” Theodore replied. “I can only suppose that particles of the odour somehow clog up in one’s nose.”
“But why these particular particles, and not others?”
“The shape, I imagine. But they are too small to
