Charlotte Grayson looked across the room at her mother, who was nodding with satisfaction and pleasure at the two gentlemen from the law firm, Messrs Brown and King.
Charlotte knew this was a tremendously important day in Jane Grayson’s life and she also knew that it would herald a significant change in her own life and that of her sister, Kitty.
‘This is indeed wonderful news, Mr Brown,’ her mother was saying as she accepted the deeds. ‘Felbrook Manor, mine at last.’
Jane Grayson was a small, slim woman, dressed soberly as befitted her widowed state and with her greying hair tucked neatly under a pretty lace cap. Eagerly she took up the legal documents, written on heavy parchment and tied with official-looking legal tape. She almost stroked them, so intense was her pride of ownership.
Adam Brown smiled over his steel spectacles. ‘Yes, my dear ma’am, you are now sole owner of the house you have longed to possess ever since your dear husband passed away. Felbrook Manor, your childhood home, ma’am. I hope that you and your charming daughters will be very happy there.’
‘I am sure we will be, Mr Brown. I have told my girls of the happy years I spent there as a child and my fervent wish is for the three of us to be settled at Felbrook Manor as soon as may be.’
Carefully, she placed the legal documents on a small polished bureau with hands that trembled slightly and then she turned to smile at him.
‘I trust that you and Mr King will stay and take some tea with us, sir?’
Adam Brown, a tall, spare man in his fiftieth year, looked quizzically at his young partner, Matthew King, and then he bowed.
‘It would be a pleasure, ma’am, especially for an elderly gentleman like myself, to take tea with such charming ladies.’
‘Pooh,’ laughed Jane Grayson. ‘Why, down in Felbrook village, they would call you “no’ but a lad”, my dear sir. And as for Matthew, now that he and Charlotte are almost betrothed, why, I count him as one of the family. Charlotte, my love, ring for some tea, if you please and Kitty, I can smell the lardy cake that Mrs Palmer has made for us. Do go to the kitchen, my dear, and see if it is cooled enough to eat.’
Both girls rose obediently to do their mother’s bidding. Charlotte, at twenty the elder of the two, was tall and graceful, with the sort of vivid dark good looks which always commanded attention. Kitty was two years younger than her sister and was smaller with brown hair and her mama’s steady grey eyes and pleasant charm.
They smiled at each other and Charlotte pressed her mother’s shoulder affectionately as she passed her chair. In the last eighteen years, they had never been apart, and once childhood was over, had rarely quarrelled.
Adam Brown went to the window and looked out over the garden. ‘That cloud is looking very threatening,’ he said. ‘Judging by its direction, I think there must be a bad thunderstorm over Grimston way.’
As the maid entered the room, Mrs Grayson said, ‘Will you bring in the tea, please, Phoebe? I had hoped we might sit in the garden, but Mr Brown is quite right, yonder black cloud means we are going to have a downpour. We would indeed be foolish to risk sitting out.’
The girl curtsied and went for the tea tray and Kitty bounced in smiling, to say that Mrs Palmer had declared the lardy cake well and truly ready and was bringing it in personally.
Straight on Kitty’s heels came Mrs Palmer herself, a stout body in a large starched pinafore and old-fashioned mob cap, who carried the cake with some ceremony, on its silver cake stand.
‘The cake, ma’am,’ she declared importantly.
Just as if she were announcing the arrival of the prime minister, thought Charlotte Grayson, and smiled to herself.
The housekeeper placed it on the little side table, bobbed her head at Jane and nodded to the two gentlemen. ‘I hope as it’s adequate, ma’am,’ she sniffed. ‘Seein’ as no one told me nohow as we was havin’ company.’
‘Oh, did they not?’ Jane Grayson said serenely. ‘But we always count on you to know everything, Mary. Come now. Who is always in touch with the village gossips? Who do we go to when we wish to know who’s born, who’s married, who’s died…? Mary Palmer, of course. You are the fount of all our knowledge and wisdom, my dear Mary, but it was very remiss of me if I forgot to mention the visit of Mr Brown and dear Matthew.’
‘S’all right, ma’am,’ Mary said cheerfully. ‘I heard it said in Felbrook market yesterday, as they were coming here this afternoon.’
She waited expectantly, looking at the bureau where the deeds to Felbrook Manor still rested. No one spoke.
Jane Grayson knew that news of the purchase of her old childhood home would get out soon enough and so she said, gently dismissive, ‘Thank you, Mary. I am sure the cake will be delicious as always. That will be all for now.’
Her mother seemed to have forgotten about pouring tea and Kitty tactfully filled Matthew’s cup and smiled at him. ‘It will be so exciting to move house again and we find this is such a gloomy place, do we not, Mama?’
Jane Grayson looked round the dismal high-ceilinged room with its dark furniture and faded curtains and nodded.
‘But we have been so grateful to Sir Benjamin Westbury for allowing us to lease his family home,’ she said gently. ‘And now, we shall soon be leaving.’
As the cake was handed round, Jane Grayson continued to talk enthusiastically about her plans for Felbrook Manor.
She and her husband had brought up their daughters in a Lincolnshire vicarage and when he died, she’d been determined to return to her Norfolk roots and make a new home for them in the house where she herself had spent her youth. She’d been obliged to rent Westbury Hall from Sir Benjamin Westbury who was in India, but now that the lease was almost up, she was pleased and relieved to be moving to her old home.
‘It was where I had the honour to be born,’ she said. ‘And now, think of my delight at being able to take you to live in my childhood home. It is such a wonderful old house and before I married your dear papa, I passed some of my happiest years there.’
Jane Grayson now put down her tea cup and looked round at the assembled company before she said slowly, ‘It is quite true that Mary knows everything in the village. She has heard that Sir Benjamin is returning from India with a vast fortune and with his great-nephew in tow.’
Both Kitty and Charlotte looked at her very attentively. Then they automatically turned to gaze just as intently at Adam Brown.
He smiled at their eagerness to have the village gossip confirmed and said, ‘Why, as to that, I believe Sir Benjamin and his young relative are already in this country, so it is fortuitous that you will be able to move to your own Felbrook Manor before he comes to claim back his home.’
There was no pretence now of eating or drinking. Both girls began to ply him with questions, while Matthew smiled and listened quietly to Adam Brown’s answers.
‘And do you think they will make good neighbours?’ Charlotte asked.
‘I cannot say. My only dealings with Sir Benjamin have been as his man of business. He was more than a client to my late father, he was a friend, but he has lived abroad for so many years….
‘All I know is that he is elderly and seemingly rather frail now, but a very wealthy nabob indeed. My friend and partner, young Matthew here, reckons he remembers the great-nephew, Hugo, from Oxford. Is that not so, Matthew?’
Matthew King inclined his golden head and Charlotte took a moment to admire his fine profile and pleasant smile. She knew that his unassuming modesty belied his sharp brain and clever mind and that he was determined to work hard.
He was a tall young man, good-looking and well mannered, but with ambition. An orphan, he lived with his equally handsome Aunt Lavinia on the edge of the village and this lady had nurtured and supported him throughout his childhood until he was now able to make his way in the world.
She saw that Adam was listening to their excited conversation and looking very affectionately at Matthew.
Adam had been Lavinia King’s friend for years and had encouraged her young nephew’s talents since he was a little boy. Now Matthew was a confident young man of twenty-four, competent and well trained in the complexities of the law.
Yes, thought Charlotte. It was Adam himself who’d recognized his ability and persuaded Lavinia to encourage him. He’d finally rewarded Matthew’s persistence by first taking him into the law firm and recently making him a junior partner.
Now, she could see the amusement in Adam Brown’s eyes as she and Kitty hung on Matthew’s every word and the young man tried to answer all their questions.
‘And what is Hugo Westbury like?’ Kitty asked eagerly.
Matthew smiled at her and Charlotte noticed the kindness in his eyes while he took in every detail of her sister’s rather homely appearance. With her slight body, softly curling dark hair and honest grey eyes, Kitty would never be a beauty, but her expressive face was sparkling with interest.
‘Well….’ he said slowly. ‘It is all of five years since I last saw Hugo Westbury. We were never close friends and both of us took our studies seriously. Neither of us had the luxury of a Grand Tour, as I remember. Hugo sailed for India as soon as he left Oxford. He went into Sir Benjamin’s business, but I do not know what business it was. Perhaps he was a merchant or importer of goods. I know not.’
‘And what does he look like?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Is he tall? Dark? Fair? I expect he must be quite burnt by the sun if he has been in India.’
His eyes softened as he looked at her. She’d only lived in the village for just over a year and yet already they somehow had an understanding. Tall, almost too tall for a woman and with a beautiful flawless face dominated by dramatic grey eyes, fringed with coal-black lashes, Charlotte Grayson would stand out in any company. A vivid personality, an arresting beauty all her own and a remarkably strong will. This was Charlotte Grayson as Matthew had come to know her and he was sure she would never alter.
He looked at her for so long that both Charlotte and Kitty became impatient for his answer. ‘Well?’ Charlotte demanded. ‘Are you going to tell us what the nabob’s heir is like?’
‘He is dark as I remember him,’ Matthew said slowly, as though trying to recall a distant face to mind. ‘I do not remember his eye colour. Dark skinned with the sun? I know not. We shall no doubt see him and his great-uncle soon enough when they return home.’
Even Adam Brown, who had lived in Norfolk all his life, could tell them no more. ‘Suffice it to say,’ he said. ‘Sir Benjamin has indicated to me that he has vowed to go travelling no more. He has sold out his concerns abroad and is desirous of settling back in his family home.
‘This house is not in the very best of condition, but it is his country seat. With lavish care and plenty of money, he intends to restore it to its former glory, to repair and replenish the stables and, in short, to retire and live in the style befitting a wealthy landowner.’
Jane Grayson now thought of a question for the first time. ‘And is there a Lady Westbury?’ she asked quietly.
‘No,’ Adam Brown said. ‘Sir Benjamin never married. His youngest brother had one son and one grandson, Hugo Westbury. His other brother I believe had the same, but I do not know that one’s name.’
With that, they had to be content and as soon as Phoebe had cleared away the tea things, Jane Grayson whisked Mr Brown into the library to talk about her plans for the refurbishing of Felbrook Manor.
‘Sir Benjamin is not the only one with pretensions to style,’ she laughed. ‘I too have ideas for my family home, now that it is mine at last.’
Kitty tactfully remembered some sewing that she was very keen to finish and disappeared up to her room, leaving Matthew and Charlotte alone with each other.
After a moment Matthew rose and went to stand by the window, looking out at the darkly threatening sky. ‘Your mama seems to be expecting an announcement of our betrothal any time now,’ he said quietly.
Charlotte stared at his back, frowning a little. ‘What do you mean, Matthew?’
‘Well….’ There was a pause and he turned away from the window and strode over to her. ‘Do your mama and Kitty really believe that we are already engaged to be married?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I have never led anyone to believe such a thing.’ She was deliberately flippant as she said, ‘After all, a lady usually waits to be asked before making such an announcement.’
Even so, she wondered why Matthew had not so far made a formal declaration for her hand. They’d known each other for a year. He was a frequent visitor to their home and Charlotte was sure he was in love with her.
‘I am pleased that you have not led anyone to believe we are as good as engaged, Charlotte. You see, I feel I am not quite ready for such a step. Not yet. I have only just been made a partner. I have my way to make in the world…. I want to be able to keep a wife in style…. You do understand … don’t you?’
Charlotte was angry and hurt and spoke more sharply than she intended. ‘Yes, I do understand, Matthew. It was merely an ideal dream of romance on the part of my lovely mama,’ she snapped. ‘I have never hinted at it by word or deed. I am not sure if I want to be betrothed to you either.’
‘Hell! What a pig’s ear I am making of this,’ he said. ‘That is not at all as I imagined I was going to say it.’
‘And why does it matter?’ Charlotte asked coldly. ‘I am sure I have no wish to lure you into a parson’s mouse-trap if you are so unwilling.’
Matthew took her hand and his eyes were tender. She knew that he was very fond of her, in spite of his rather clumsy remarks, but she still felt angry.
He looked uncomfortable and said diffidently, ‘It is just that Adam has been making very pointed remarks recently and then your mama saying….’
‘I quite understand. You will just have to disregard it as I do myself. Pointed remarks always abound when my mother is about. I can assure you, I have no intentions of thinking about matrimony yet.’
It was now Charlotte’s turn to walk to the window and gaze out over the garden. There was the faintest moaning of the wind in the trees and large drops of rain began to fall heavily on to the terrace under the window. She fully understood Matthew’s reluctance to be leg shackled before he was ready, but she felt a slight sense of hurt still. Charlotte was not sure about ‘in love’, but the fondness and affection which existed between herself and Matthew seemed an excellent basis for a married life together. If he needed more time to be sure of his feelings, well, that was perfectly acceptable to Charlotte Grayson. He could have all the time he wanted.
She continued to look out of the window, silent now and still somewhat puzzled by the behaviour of the young man she thought she knew very well. The rain turned gradually from slow, heavy drops into a torrential downpour, as the storm cloud settled immediately over Westbury Hall and the whole landscape looked drenched and soddened with rain.
When Adam Brown came back into the darkened room with Jane Grayson, he rubbed his hands as though feeling the sudden chill and said, ‘Here comes the storm, Matthew. I shall not yet be able to ride back to King’s Lynn, although I suppose, you may make a dash for it to Primrose Cottage. No doubt your aunt will be anxious about you.’
‘No. Please do not go out in this storm,’ Jane Grayson said. ‘The thunder seems so much nearer to home now. I am sure there is a lot more rain to come. You will be utterly soaked if you attempt a dash for it now. And what will your dear Aunt Lavinia think of me then? I cannot allow you to risk it, dear Matthew.
‘Oh, here is Kitty. Let us ring for more tea and try to finish Mrs Palmer’s excellent cake. The weather is so dismal, it is more like November than August. I shall get Phoebe to put a light to the sticks and we may soon have a cheerful fire.’
Kitty came in with her sewing and Matthew went back to his chair. Soon they were all settled down again, but the crashing of the thunder and the jagged flashes of lightning illuminating the angry sky did nothing to make the conversation easy.
Westbury Hall was not a comfortable residence. It had been utterly neglected for years and no amount of cleaning, dusting and flower arranging seemed to dispel the dark musty atmosphere. It was a house which had grown gradually over more than three centuries and had been lived in by generations of the Westbury family and their successors. The south front had been built in the 1620s on the foundations of a Tudor house which had been acquired by Thomas Westbury in the fifteenth century. He had died childless and left the estate to his cousin, Sir John Westbury, whose coat of arms and that of his wife could still be seen above the front door along with the words ‘GLORIA DEO IN EXCELSIS’ prominently acknowledging God’s help in their enterprise. Successive Westburys had added a new west wing, a service wing and stables, with an orangery and a gate house which had been added in 1700. Each new addition had made the hall more substantial and the different architectural styles served as an interesting contrast to the original Jacobean front.
One notable feature had been the old staircase, dating from the 1680s and which had been much criticized by a prominent neighbour of the Westburys, because of its alarming steepness. It had since been replaced by a much more shallow flight, protected by a balustrade of beautiful wrought iron, custom made by a London blacksmith, which added a graceful touch to the old stair hall.
Like all old houses, it had its share of secret hidey holes and it was rumoured that there was an underground tunnel leading from Felbrook woods to the library, which had once been the great chamber of the Jacobean house. So far, though, no one had discovered the underground passage or learned the secret of opening the panelled wall.
As for Jane Grayson, when she’d heard of the so-called secret tunnel from the all-knowing Mrs Palmer, she’d declared herself to be not interested in such tomfoolery and expressed the hope that her darlings would not listen to such idle tales of priests’ holes and such. Mrs Palmer had taken umbrage at this and had expressed the hope that Mrs Grayson would not live to regret her scepticism.
The storm, which gave no sign of abating, had caused the dusk to arrive prematurely and once the candles were lit, Jane Grayson was already planning in her mind to invite the two guests to stay for dinner, rather than send them out to brave the elements on horseback. Having finished the second lot of tea and cake, conversation seemed to have petered out and they were all, it seemed, wrapped up in their own thoughts.
Kitty was still busy sewing and Adam Brown was glancing idly at an out-of-date copy of The Times, while Charlotte and Matthew chatted quietly about a riding party they were both going to attend the following week. Aurelia Casterton and her bosom friend, Ann West, were together hosting a picnic in the grounds of the Castertons’ country home for various of their young friends and it promised to be an interesting excursion. Except for the spectacular noise of the storm, it was just another pleasant family evening.
Quite suddenly, there was an exceptionally deafening thunderclap and a flash of lightning, which lit up the whole of the countryside for several miles and made the candles flicker and go pale.
This was followed by a terrific crash and then an ominous silence.
There was a muffled shriek and a distant scream and Mrs Palmer burst into the room without knocking, so great was her panic. She was followed closely by a distraught Phoebe, who held her apron over her head and promptly gave way to a bout of hysterics.
Jane Grayson found this irritating. ‘Oh dear! What a tiresome girl. Stop that at once, Phoebe. Mrs Palmer, sal volatile, if you please. I have no time to spend cosseting silly girls. Come now, let us see what has happened. The noise seemed to come from the library.’
They all trooped out of the drawing-room along the stone corridor and through the stair hall to the library. Mrs Palmer, afraid of missing something, set off in hot pursuit and Phoebe, finding herself alone and her hysterics ignored, threw down the sal volatile in disgust and hurried after them.
There was another mighty crack and a rumble of falling masonry as a sizeable piece of the south front collapsed and slid noisily to the ground, destroying part of the fireplace wall in the library and leaving a heap of rubble in the stair hall, just outside the door. The dust rose up like a grey fog and obscured the extent of the damage for several minutes.
Both the men had to put their shoulders to the library door, it being jammed by fallen bricks and splintered panelling, and held their handkerchiefs to their mouths because of the choking dust. When Adam and Matthew had opened it, the ladies lifted their skirts and held them close to their legs as they picked their way into the room.
Adam Brown was the first to reach the old stone fireplace, which appeared to have caved in when the chimney collapsed. This also appeared to have unsettled the wall to the side of the fireplace and more than four feet of the beautifully carved oak panelling had been displaced.
What was revealed behind the panelling was almost too gruesome to be looked on. As Adam bent over the gap in the wall, he exclaimed, ‘By all that’s holy! Askeleton, Matthew. A skeleton in a cupboard, no less!’
Removing his immaculate handkerchief from his mouth, Matthew could only echo what his guide and mentor, Mr Brown, had said. ‘Yes. Good God! A skeleton, Mr Brown, sir. What … what on earth can have happened?’
The three ladies were now also in the room and able to view what was revealed by the cracking open of the priest hole. Jane Grayson spoke first. ‘Mrs Palmer, please take Phoebe back to the kitchen and make her some tea. I shall come to see her directly, but this is not a sight for Phoebe’s young eyes. Charlotte, Kitty, I am persuaded that this is not something either of you would want to look at. Should you wish to return to the drawing-room you may do so now.’
Both Charlotte and Kitty professed themselves desirous of staying where they were. Neither of them was willing to miss any of the excitement of finding an actual skeleton in the proverbial family cupboard.
‘Whoever he is, poor soul. He has obviously been here a long time,’ Adam Brown said at last.
‘He?’ Kitty questioned. ‘How do we know it is he?’
‘Well, he has silver buttons on his coat and the remains of leather boots,’ Adam said gently. ‘Although, to be sure, the boots are crumbled almost into dust. I expect the rats have done their work over the years.
‘Perhaps he was a traveller, then,’ Charlotte surmised. ‘But where could he have been going and how did he meet his end?’
‘The answer to your last question is very violently,’ Adam said, still speaking quietly in the presence of what was, after all, a deceased person. ‘See, this large black stain which has spread all over the floor. That must be a blood stain, unless I am very much mistaken.’
All the ladies shuddered, but Charlotte, steelier than the other two, said, ‘What manner of man do you think he was, then, Mr Brown? There are no papers, no jewels, no money; nothing to identify him.’
‘Only this,’ Adam said. Bending down, he picked up an old signet ring, the gold still gleaming brightly. ‘Likewise, this.’ He also retrieved a silver fob watch, with a fine chased case, tarnished and slightly dented, but still attached to its handsome silver chain. ‘Whoever he was, he seems to have been a gentleman. Any of his other possessions could easily have been removed after his death.’
‘Are you suggesting murder, Mr Brown?’
Jane Grayson was obviously surprised and alarmed at the idea of a murder victim on the premises that she’d been renting for a year.
‘It seems highly probable, ma’am.’
‘But … but, surely it could have been an accident or … or … even suicide, Mr Brown?’
‘I think not,’ he said quietly. ‘There is no weapon, you see. The deceased could not have killed himself with either his ring or this watch. What accident could have caused such a copious amount of blood in so small a space? Of course, we shall have to report this to the proper authorities, but it is my opinion the unfortunate man was murdered.’
‘Oh, how dreadful!’ Jane Grayson exclaimed. ‘Poor man and to think this body has been here all this time and none of us was even aware of it.’
‘Quite so,’ Adam Brown said. ‘I think, Matthew, that there is no point in any more fruitless speculation. And with your permission, ma’am, perhaps we could have the loan of a blanket or sheet, until the body can be removed.’
‘Of course,’ Jane agreed. ‘Come, girls, we shall return to the drawing-room and get Robert to cover the body decently.’
Jane’s household was very informal. Although she used the formal system of ringing a bell to summon the maid when they had company, she was just as likely to go to the kitchen herself and even do the baking if she was so inclined. She employed the young footman, Robert, as a cross between a butler and general factotum, a young man of many skills who was in her opinion ‘worth his weight in gold’.
They all went back to the drawing-room where Adam Brown asked diffidently if he could have the use of some of Robert’s silver polish and a soft cloth. While they all watched with interest, he polished up the silver watch and turned it over so that the engraving on the back of the case was revealed clearly. The owner’s initials were hand-engraved and clearly marked: C.W.
‘It seems he was one of the Westburys then. “C.W” – that could be Christopher or Charles….’
‘Yes, it could be either of those, Matthew, but the favoured family names are Benjamin, Hugo, Charles. This ring is also interesting,’ he went on. ‘See, a cunning little hinge just here. A locket ring, no less.’
Very carefully, he pulled up the little hinged fastening on the ring and opened it to reveal an exquisite miniature of a mother and child. It showed a beautiful young woman, with dark hair and deep blue eyes. The child was an adorable little cherub, fairer than his mother but with identical blue eyes. Below the portrait in very tiny writing, but easy to read, was the date 1760. There was a profound silence as the ring was carefully and reverently passed from hand to hand.
‘Who can they be?’ Jane Grayson asked. ‘If that pretty little baby has survived, he must be all of fifty-six years. Where can he be? What can have become of him?’
‘I do not rightly know,’ Adam said. ‘And after this lapse of time, it will be nigh on impossible to find out.’
‘But if the skeleton and the mother and baby were members of the Westbury family, would not Sir Benjamin know who they were?’
Charlotte spoke with some excitement. She’d always been interested in history and this corpse had excited her curiosity rather than horror or aversion. Adam looked at her with gentle approval.
‘Yes, undoubtedly, Miss Grayson, and back at the office in King’s Lynn there is a deed box relating to the whole family, complete with names and dates of birth. It may take time, but it should be possible to find out who the unfortunate young man was.
Outside, the storm had run its course and the sky had cleared, just ready for sunset. It promised to be a pleasant and tranquil evening, perfectly calm now, and he should be able to ride home comfortably.
Jane Grayson pressed the two lawyers to stay for dinner. ‘We have a good mutton pie, made with Mrs Palmer’s delectable pastry,’ she said. ‘And a nice big ham shank boiled with baby onions and she always makes a good fruit pudding when she knows gentlemen are staying for dinner.’
Adam Brown refused politely. ‘Another time, perhaps, Mrs Grayson, ma’am, but I must travel to King’s Lynn. I shall inform Sir Benjamin of this unhappy discovery and then I wish to get out my strong boxes and look up the Westbury family history. I shall send word to my housekeeper to delay my supper for a couple of hours. But, thank you. It was a kind thought.’
Matthew was more apologetic. ‘I am conscious that Aunt Lavinia will wonder what has become of me,’ he said. ‘She herself might have been somewhat unnerved by the storm and it would be upsetting for her were I to be unexpectedly late home.’
Jane had no answer to this. After all, how many times had she advised the girls to observe closely how a prospective bridegroom treated his mother? In this case, it was of course his Aunt Lavinia, but still, the sort of loyalty and consideration shown to his aunt would definitely be lavished on his bride, she thought.
No, she could not argue against either of their decisions, but instead said gracefully, ‘I do understand. Another time then. Give my kind regards to your aunt, Matthew. You will have much to talk about when you tell her of our dreadful discovery.’
In spite of the warmth of the fire, Kitty shivered as though with a sudden chill and glanced fearfully over her shoulder. ‘I feel as though someone has just stepped over my grave,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, poor thing, dying alone like that and with only the portrait of his dear wife and child to comfort him. And that sweet-looking wife and the dear little baby. What on earth became of them, I wonder?’
‘Who knows?’ Matthew said. ‘Perhaps no one ever will.’
Kitty’s gentle grey eyes were still shining with unshed tears when the two men bowed to the ladies and Matthew kissed Charlotte’s hand.
Robert brought round the horses and they set off, Adam to his lonely house and Matthew to his lovely Aunt Lavinia and supper.