Page 47 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
That was all we managed to say. Lady Radcliffe directed the coachman to take us back immediately and we dropped off the two young women and returned to Rook’s Acre where we found both Adrien and Jerald lurking about near the front door. Rowena thanked Lady Radcliffe prettily for the drive, sent me a speaking look and went to Adrien’s side.
‘We had such a lovely drive,’ I heard her say.
‘Will you not come in and take tea?’ Adrien asked us.
I looked across at Lady Radcliffe, but she was staring at the front porch where Jerald stood, an expression of baffled frustration on his face. There was no sign of Arabella.
‘Thank you, no, Adrien,’ Lady Radcliffe said. ‘We must be getting back.’
‘Ill-mannered, but I cannot help that,’ Lady Radcliffe said briskly when we were driving away. ‘We need a council of war. That child positively ran into the house.’
* * *
As it turned out Luc and James had gone riding, each taking a twin up in front of him, so Nanny Yates told us when we went to find out why the house was unnaturally quiet.
We sent for tea and I curled up on the sofa with the latest copies of Ackermann’sRepository, La Belle AssembléeandThe Lady’s Monthly Museumin the hope that a careful study of the fashion plates would clear my mind, although I could almost hear Lady Radcliffe thinking, which was distracting.
I turned the page and forgot about her for a moment, staring in fascinated horror at an engraving captionedLady Amersham in Court Dress at the Levée for the Prussian Ambassador.Lady Amersham was rigged out in an outfit that looked like nothing less than one of these crocheted crinoline ladies that people used to put over loo rolls in the 1950s. I knew that hoops and ostrich plumes were required dress, but I hadn’t appreciated that, with waistlines rising ever higher, the hoops rose too, so the great bell of the skirt began under the unfortunate lady’s armpits. Lady Amersham’s elbows stuck out almost at right-angles and she had the desperate expression of a woman who feared she was never going to get out of the gown again.
I shook my head over the idiocy of the garment and then noticed the gentleman in attendance on her ladyship. He too was in Court dress, as described to me only the day before by Marcus Prescott – a heavily embroidered tailcoat and waistcoat, silk stockings and buckled shoes, achapeau brasflattened and tucked under his arm, and, by his side, a slim little sword.
‘That’s it!’ I jumped to my feet as Luc, entering the drawing room at that moment, stopped dead in the doorway. James, on his heels, crashed into the back of him.
‘What is what?’ Luc demanded.
‘What killed Lord Tillingham.’ I brandished the journal at him. ‘A dress sword. That’s why the killer could get so close with a weapon without alarming him: he would haveexpectedthem to be wearing a sword.’
‘Of course.’ James perched on the arm of the nearest chair. ‘And the wound was small, made by a thin, clean blade.’
‘In fact, if Tillingham was standing at his desk, perhaps leaning forward like this – ‘ Luc took up the pose using a console table that stood at the back of one of the sofas, ‘– the sword would be long enough to stab him in the heart, even across the width of the desk.’
‘And we couldn’t locate a weapon because the killer simply walked out with it by his side,’ James added.
I sat down again, the triumph fading. ‘The trouble is, five of the Prescotts were at the reception and therefore in full Court fig. Alexander, Horace and a full set of Horace’s sons all attended and I assume the rest of the menfolk own dress swords too. Oh well, at least that is what was niggling at me after our visitors left yesterday. Marcus had been telling me how uncomfortable Court dress was and how he had avoided attending.’
Lady Radcliffe told them about our outing and Arabella’s mysterious terrors. ‘I simply do not understand the girl. If she is in fear for her life why does she not confide in Adrien? He appears to hold no terrors for her. Or Rowena? Arabella cannot believe thatsheis involved in any of this. And if we are wrong and she does not trust Adrien either, why not throw herself onourmercy? She must realise that our family has enough influence to protect her against anything the Prescotts can do.’
‘Unless we are wrong and Arabella did kill him. I expect her father has a dress sword and perhaps she used it because it allowed her to kill at arm’s length. It could be complete coincidence that half the Prescotts were in Court dress that night,’ I said. ‘Her terror now could be the very real fear of being hanged.’
‘But how did she get in?’ James argued. ‘Over the locked gate? By herself? And you are describing a young woman cold-blooded enough to run a man through and then remove herself from the house unseen, who then goes to pieces after the event. It cannot have been a spur of the moment attack, she must have planned it.’
‘True. But in that case what or who is she afraid of? I cannot –’
‘Papa! Papa! Quickly! Come quickly!’ It was Charles, his face blubbered with tears, his eyes wide with fright and his little chest heaving.
‘What is it?’ Luc swept him up in his arms.
‘Matthew… Moat,’ he managed.
Luc thrust the shaking child into my arms and ran, James on his heels. I passed Charles to his grandmother, reasoning that I was more likely to be helpful at the moat than soothing a distraught little boy, and ran too.
We found Matthew clutching a spindly branch of a dead pine tree that extended a good ten feet up over the murky water of the moat. He must have been inching out, slipped, and was now clinging upside down like a small, desperate, sloth.
‘Matthew! Hang on, we’re here,’ Luc shouted up and was answered by a faint wail.
‘Can we get him to drop?’ I suggested. ‘If we are in the water we can fish him out the moment he lands.’
‘It is too deep for us to stand and if he hits the surface wrongly…’ James didn’t have to finish. The child could break a limb, or worse.
