Page 32 of Marriage and Murder
“Indeed? As that’s the case, I own myself surprised that you’ve returned to England.”
He raised his gaze to take in the church’s beamed ceiling. “Believe it or not, I developed a hankering for the auld country. For this land of green pastures and golden fields—the land of my forebears. Until I was over there, I didn’t feel the tug, but once I’d accumulated enough wealth not to have to think of money again, I realized I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life over there. So I came back.” He lowered his gaze and smiled at her. “Just in time, it seems, to meet you again.”
Madeline had no intention of encouraging him to pursue any ongoing acquaintance with her. She felt a distinct need to cut this interview short. She glanced at her lapel watch and, with a certain relief, discovered she could honestly state, “I have an appointment in a few minutes. You’ll have to excuse me.” Thank goodness she’d accepted Henry’s invitation.
She looked at Monty in time to see annoyance flash across his face and remembered that, in the past, he had always been the one to define the length of their meetings. Thinking back, she couldn’t recall ever walking out on him before.
Endeavoring to hide the smile that realization brought to her lips, she rose, and when he rose, too, she inclined her head. “Good day, Monty.” She stepped into the aisle and started walking back to the door.
Naturally, he fell in beside her. After a moment, he ventured, “I sincerely hope, Madeline, that once this sad time has passed, we can…well, not exactly resume where we left off but at least renew our friendship.”
A touch repressively, she replied, “I’m really not sure what I will do regarding Lavender Cottage, so I can’t say how much longer I’ll remain in the area.”
She reached the doorway and stepped out into the weak sunshine and spotted Constable Price waiting in the shade of a large tree. His surprise at seeing Monty showed in his sudden tensing, and Madeline realized that as the constable had been watching the main door, he hadn’t seen Monty enter the church.
She smiled and fractionally inclined her head, letting Price know Monty was no threat. She turned to Monty and realized he’d been looking down and hadn’t seen Price under the tree. She held out her hand. “Goodbye, Monty.”
He caught her fingers and bowed over her hand. Straightening, he smiled with a full measure of charm. “For now, dearest Madeline, farewell.”
She retrieved her hand and, feeling a smidgen relieved that Price was within hailing distance, stepped past Monty and set off, walking steadily down the drive.
She’d just passed beneath the lychgate when Henry drew his curricle to a halt in the lane. She felt her face come alight and her heart lift. Suddenly, the day seemed much sunnier.
Henry saw her and smiled. “There you are. Right on time.”
He leaned across and offered her his hand, and she took it and climbed into the open carriage. She sat beside him and found she was looking forward to the day.
“Now.” Henry raised his reins and gave his chestnuts the office. “Let’s get some air to blow away the dismals and simply enjoy our day.”
Madeline laughed and clutched her bonnet as they started off. Leaning back as the curricle rattled along High Street, she discovered a smile had taken up permanent residence on her face. Sitting beside Henry, she could, indeed, relax and, as he had put it, simply enjoy the day.
From within the deep shade of an old oak by the church wall, William Price watched the gentleman who had—to William’s considerable surprise—walked out of the church with Miss Madeline. While Miss Madeline’s behavior had made it clear that she didn’t view the man as a villain, William wasn’t so sure.
The gentleman—at least, he appeared to be a gentleman—was lean of build and dark-haired. Just like their mystery man, but unfortunately also like several other men, including Lord Glossup, who had just driven off with Miss Madeline. But more to the point, William couldn’t place the man, and he knew most of those who lived in and around the village.
If he wasn’t a villager, what was he doing there?
Clearly, he knew Miss Madeline, which was curious to say the least. But what made William remain still and silent, his gaze trained on the man, whoever he might be, was the change in the man’s expression as he’d watched Miss Madeline walk down the path. At first, he’d seemed merely put out, a bit sulky that she’d walked away, but then Miss Madeline had met his lordship and driven away with him, and the man’s eyes had narrowed to slits, and his jaw had clenched.
Now, with the rattle of the curricle’s wheels fading into the distance, William saw the man mutter something, then he spun on his heel and strode away, heading toward the path behind the church that led to Manor Farm.
William watched the man go until he vanished behind the trees at the rear of the churchyard. Finally stretching, then setting off toward the cottage, William thought again of all he’d observed and made a mental note to mention the strange gentleman to the inspector.
Stokes strode into the Salisbury police station with Barnaby and Penelope on his heels. During the journey from the village, they’d speculated about what the news of the necklace and bracelet might mean but had too few facts to make any predictions.
Mallard was waiting by the desk and straightened when he saw them. He reached across and picked up a gold bracelet and necklace and held them as an offering in his large hands.
Penelope noted his altered attitude. The Superintending Constable appeared as eager as they to push ahead with this case and seemed keen to acquit himself well as he declared, “These are the items the jeweler identified as belonging to the victim.”
Stokes nodded to Mallard and accepted the jewelry. Stokes shook out the bracelet, studied it for an instant, then passed it to Penelope.
She lifted the gold links and held the piece up to the light.
Then she frowned and brought the bracelet closer to her spectacles and peered at the stones.
Before she could exclaim, Mallard said, “A local jeweler name of Swithin—an older man, decent solid sort, never any trouble—brought these in this morning. He said a young man came into his shop latish yesterday and tried to sell him the pieces. Swithin recognized both as belonging to Miss Huntingdon and pretended an interest while surreptitiously trying to send his assistant to fetch us, but the young man noticed the silly beggar leave, got the wind up, and legged it. Swithin had no hope of catching him. But the thing is, Swithin said Miss Huntingdon—the victim—came to see him last Wednesday. Seemed the catch on the bracelet had come loose, and as Swithin himself had made the piece as a gift for the victim’s mother long ago, Miss Huntingdon brought the bracelet to him and asked to have it fixed. She was wearing the necklace at the time and happily showed it off to Swithin. According to him, she was very proud of that necklace, up until he told her the bad news.”
Penelope, along with Barnaby and Stokes, had grown riveted by the tale.
