The wave of fear spread through entire country. Honest merchants struck down in their own establishment, their brains splattered across the wall! Since the outrage had occurred in a linen-draper’s shop, Mrs. Blodgett and Madame Orly were afraid that Blodgett’s Academy might even be the next target of the killer. Mr. Blodgett attached extra locks and chains upon their doors, and kept a cudgel behind his shop counter. These precautions did little to allay the anxieties of Madame Orly. Madame had actually witnessed bloody violence with her own eyes; she had seen heads paraded on spikes, and crowds calling for blood, and no reassurances would erase those ghastly episodes from her memory, nor cause her to refrain from attaching the terror she experienced when a young girl in France, to the nameless dread which clung to every Londoner.
“Surely, Madame, we are at a safe distance, here at Camden Town,” said Fanny, in an attempt to convince her friend of something which she herself could not entirely feel.
“Non, non, that is all the more reason to be alarmed!” Madame exclaimed, “Why should the killer stay in Wapping, where everyone is looking for him? He must have run far from there by now, he could be anywhere, anywhere at all!”
Fanny could not gainsay her friend’s logic, and drew at least this comfort—if the madman had indeed escaped from Wapping, her brother John was only in danger of catching cold on his nightly patrols, rather than being dispatched into eternity with a blunt instrument or a razor to the neck. She sent him his Christmas present—a warm muffler—without waiting for the holiday.
* * * * * * *
At Mansfield Park, Lord Delingpole had done all that energy, skill and resolution could do to accomplish the crucial goal of chasing every last fox in Northamptonshire to the ground. Lady Delingpole had likewise found much to gratify in her new country residence, and the people of Mansfield had discovered in her, an intelligent and industrious patroness, who gave judicious relief to the poor and was prompt in settling her accounts.
The Delingpoles were not above venturing into the village to do some shopping, or just to go for a carriage ride in the neighbourhood. Shortly before Christmas, Lord Delingpole was to be seen guiding their gig expertly around the frozen ruts on the main road through Mansfield, with his lady beside him.
“The most extraordinary piece of news has reached my ears, dear. Apparently, our son proposed marriage to Julia Bertram at the Northampton assemblies.”
“Did he, by gad. And one presumes the lady accepted—happy to catch at an Earl’s son!”
“I am told she refused him.”
“Excellent—we are spared the awkwardness of putting a negative on the match, at least.” His lordship gave the reins an irritated shake, and the horses picked up their pace. “Why did he propose? Why did she refuse? Does she think she can do better than a Viscount?”
“I am not certain why James proposed, but his good friend Percy Shelley was married recently—to a tavern-keeper’s daughter, of all things—and you know how our son emulates Mr. Shelley.”
“So if our son was unsuccessful with Miss Bertram, is he in danger of proposing to the next laundry-maid he sees?”
“Quite possibly. You’ll have a word with him, dear?”
“That word being, ‘disinheritance’?”
“If you think that would persuade him.”
“So, why did she refuse him? Refuse our boy?”
Lady Delingpole laughed. “Are you affronted, as well as being relieved? When I next meet Miss Bertram, I will ask her. Let us call at Thornton Lacey on our way to town.”
“Shall we return to town on Wednesday or Thursday, Imogen?”
“Thursday, I think. I wanted to listen to the children’s choir practising at the church. Dr. Grant tells me they are quite charming.”
“We should go up on Wednesday. I need time to consult with Perceval and Castlereagh before Parliament resumes.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Why indeed, my dear? I sometimes ask myself the same question. The work of persuading people, while making them think it was their idea in the first place, is excessively tiring.”
“I meant, David, why do you offer me a choice and then tell me what you have decided? If you need to be in London on Wednesday I have no objection, but why do you pretend to consult my wishes in the matter?”
“Did I? I was just thinking aloud, I suppose. Shall we return to the house now?”
“Yes—no—stop a moment. If you turn there, at the corner, we will pass the White House. We had better stop and call upon Mrs. Norris.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because we cannot drop the acquaintance now, David. We must visit her to make our farewells before we leave Northamptonshire. Only a quarter of an hour, no more.”
“Five minutes.”
“That would be more insulting than not stopping at all.”
“This is why you asked me to take you out driving today in the first place, isn’t it? To hoodwink me into wasting half-an-hour with Mrs. Norris. You planned to do this all along, and never told me.”
“Did I? I forgot to think aloud, I suppose. Turn here, please.”
* * * * * * *
John Price had never heard Mr. Harriott sound so angry as he did that morning. The burly magistrate had been meeting in his private office for the last
