Jessica sat writing a list for Tamsin to take to Miss Brendon’s haberdashery. “Do you think yellow ribbon, or cream for the sprigged muslin gown?”
“Don’t rightly know, Miss Jess. Happen yellow, though.”
“Yellow it is. And some of that Brussels lace I saw in her window last week.”
“I wonder if they’ve found Sir Nicholas yet.”
“He only went missing yesterday afternoon. I still think it foolish to send out searchers like that. Perhaps he has a mistress he chose to visit.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I would believe anything of Sir Nicholas Woodville, Tamsin. Anything at all. There, that is the list complete. And tell her I won’t have any lace if it’s at the end of the bolt, for she’s tried that before and I’ve found the pin marks.”
“Right. I’ll not be long, Miss Jess. Though, on reflection, perhaps I’ll go on the wagonette, for ‘tis market day. I wants to see Dolly Dowdeswell, for I hear as how Cluffo was caught up Bristol way. Jamie Pike got away, though. That young hosebird do have a charmed life, I reckon. Would you mind if’n I visited her?”
“Of course not. By the way, how is Harry Parr now?”
“Happen he’s well enough. The great curmudgeon, he sent me a bunch of roses from his garden.”
“That great curmudgeon could have done nothing at all, and would that have pleased you?”
“No, reckon not. He’m a good man, is Harry.”
“And he obviously thinks you’re not so bad either.” Jessica smiled at Tamsin’s pink face. “Listen, there is the wagonette now.”
“I’ll be back on it sometime this afternoon then.”
“Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Miss Jess.”
Jessica watched Tamsin hurry out to wave down the wagonette. When it had gone she turned and her glance fell upon Mr. Slade’s book again. She sighed. Rosamund had forgotten it, and now Tamsin had gone, too, and the cursed book still remained firmly upon her shelf.
Out in the orchard Nipper began to bark. He was tied by a long piece of rope to a tree trunk, for Tamsin had bought some chickens that were in a small run next to the stables. She had tied the cross puppy to keep him from worrying the birds—”And there you’m going to stay, young Nipper, lessen you scares my fowls. And when you shows as you can behave yourself like a proper young gentleman, then you can come off the rope, but not until then.”
Jessica looked from the window to where the agitated pup was straining and jumping, and she saw the reason for his clamor. The Woodville landau was driving slowly into Applegarth, its perfectly matched team of chestnuts driven by Harry Parr. Inside the closed carriage sat Lady Amelia.
With a sinking heart, Jessica waited for the knock upon the door. She heard the tap-tapping of the old lady’s stick and then the pearl handle was struck once against the yellow door, a peremptory sound that grated on Jessica.
She opened the door and looked coldly at Lady Amelia. “Good day, my lady.”
“Miss Durleigh.”
I shall not ask you in, thought Jessica, staying where she was and waiting.
“Your manners are as appalling as your morals, Miss Durleigh, for you surely do not wish Parr to hear what we have to say.”
“Please come in, my lady.”
Lady Amelia looked around the kitchen, scraping her toe on the freshly-raddled floor and sniffing as she viewed the row of hoggins and the strings of onions hanging from the beams. “How charming,” she murmured, and Jessica took a long breath to quell her anger.
“And how may I help you, Lady Amelia?”
“In two ways.” The old lady’s shrewd little eyes were taking note of everything, as if she sought something in particular.
Suddenly Jessica guessed one of the reasons for the visit. “You are actually wondering if Sir Nicholas is here with me!” She laughed.
Lady Amelia’s wrinkled face went pale with anger and then two spots of color shone on her cheeks. “I cannot see your reason for such uproarious laughter.”
“Can’t you? Well, perhaps that does not surprise me. But let me assure you, madam, that no one by the name of Woodville is welcome here. You and your son are almost equally abhorrent, but perhaps you have the edge.”
“Quite the sharp-tongued miss, aren’t we? Well, I shall do my utmost to wipe the smile from your face, Miss Durleigh. I was informed my daughter-in-law had been seen on the Padbury road with Varangian this morning. I conclude that they intend marrying there, now that Henbury will have nothing to do with them. I will not have it, Miss Durleigh. She will not marry another man.”
“And how will you prevent it? She is a free agent.”
“Is she? Well, perhaps she is, Miss Durleigh, but Varangian is not. Oh, I don’t mean he has a wife secreted away somewhere. I mean that his life is not his to do with as he pleases. And I mean to see that he remembers the fact.”
“I don’t understand.”
The old lady smiled, drawing her gloved fingers along a shelf and glancing at the dark kid to see if there was dust. “Do you not? Well, that does not matter. What does matter is that you are continuing to give her shelter and I do not like that. She is Philip’s wife.”
“Widow.”
“She is still his, no matter what, and I will not suffer her to behave so irreverently. She must return to Woodville House.”
“I will not force her.”
“Then I will ruin Varangian.”
Jessica stared, her mind racing. “How?”
“It lies in my power, that should suffice.”
The note! Surely it could only be that. “I begin to see clearly, Lady Amelia, from where Philip got his more unpleasant side. So, you now intend carrying on where he left the reins dangling?”
“Varangian holds his estates illegally, Miss Durleigh, so it is only right that he should pay for the pleasure.”
“Is that how you see it? That Francis should pay blood money to you and your dead son? If you are so concerned with the right and wrong of Francis’ tenure of the estates, why then did you not send the note to Ireland, to seek out any relatives of the dead man, O’Connor?”
“You know that much do you?”
“I know enough to find myself thoroughly revolted by you and by what I now know of Philip.”
The old woman flushed angrily. “I do not care how you feel, Miss Durleigh, for I am intent upon destroying this affair of Rosamund’s. And believe me, I will use all the irons in the fire in order to do so. Philip’s name shall be protected and his memory cherished. I am determined, and I shall succeed, even if it means turning Varangian from his lands.”
“And what is my part to be in this grand plan?”
“Turn Rosamund out.”
“She will go to Francis.”
“No. For he, by then, will know that the price of Varangian is the casting off of Rosamund Woodville. She is a Woodville now, Miss Durleigh, and she will always remain so.”
“You are quite mad. Evil and mad. And if I tell Nicholas what you are doing?” She was prepared to try any path through this maze.
“Nicholas would not listen to you, and besides, no one appears to know where he is.”
“You do not seem particularly concerned about him.”
“He is his own master.” Lady Amelia turned, her hand on the door. “There is just one last thing, Miss Durleigh. I have yet another desire in all this. Francis Varangian will also lose his estates if you do not sell this property to me. I am prepared to offer you a fair price. But I must have you out of Henbury, for you are a reminder to the world that my son kept a mistress. That he was driven by his love for you into forgetting his wife and his obligations.”
“How quaint a picture you paint of Philip, Lady Amelia, I had no idea you were so accomplished an artist. So deftly do you use the brush it is impossible to see the flaws on the canvas.”
“There will be no flaws when I am finished, Miss Durleigh. No flaws at all. Philip will be as he was before he met you.”
“He will be as you wish to see him.”
“My terms are stated. You must leave Applegarth, and Rosamund must return to Woodville House. That way, Francis Varangian keeps his fortune. Otherwise, I will destroy him. You will not lose by complying, for with the price I give you, you may purchase a property in an area more suited to you.”
“I cannot sell. I must stay here for two years.”
“I can buy it from you, Miss Durleigh. Have no fear of that, for the will was specific. The Woodville family could purchase the property from you. I would have done so earlier, but Nicholas would not agree. I do not think he will prevent the sale this time, though, for he has recovered from his momentary lapse of sanity where you are concerned. But Philip shall rise unstained from all this, madam, and make no mistake about it. He knew that Rosamund loved Varangian, you know, that’s why he did it.”
“Did what?”
“Put the restrictions upon your tenure of Applegarth. He told me he wished to guard against his sudden death releasing Rosamund. He deliberately left you a small income and Applegarth, knowing that when you came back to Henbury, Francis Varangian would turn to you again. At least, he believed that would be the case, but it seems we were wrong there, for Varangian did not, after all, show an interest in you. But I am about to put all that right. It was Philip’s wish, and I will do all in my considerable power to honor his wish.”
Jessica felt sick. “Good day, Lady Amelia.”
“Good day, Miss Durleigh.”