Chapter Seven

Bertram absented himself from dinner that night. Richenda and Hans sat at opposite ends of the table. My mother sat on one side. Little Joe had been banished to the nursery to eat. I could imagine his disgust.

‘Did the Bishop not remain?’ I asked my mother as we began our soup.

‘He wanted to, of course,’ said my mother, ‘but ecclesiastical business pressed. I, however, had no intention of leaving until my daughter was located, and so I told him.’

‘I am sure he understood,’ said Richenda.

My mother sniffed ever so slightly. ‘I have a great regard for my husband, but I do not allow him to control my actions.’ She tried the soup. ‘Very nice, Richenda, a good beefy stock. Your cook has let the bones caramelise properly. But, yes, the Bishop had expected me to stay. Indeed, I believe he would have done so too, if he could. Dear man.’

Richenda frowned as she worked her way through the labyrinth of my mother’s speech.

‘I am so very sorry you did not know I was safe,’ I said carefully. ‘It never occurred to me that you would not be given full details.’

‘It was Bertram who went up to the police station,’ said Richenda. ‘When we heard nothing from you the following morning, he telephoned the station and was told you had been released, but no more. He got himself into quite a state.’

‘No one could persuade him not to go up there himself and demand answers,’ said my mother. ‘He made himself ill,’ said Hans. ‘Oh no,’ I said.

‘He is quite well now,’ interrupted my mother. ‘It was merely a small turn.’ She shot Hans a gimlet look. Hans caught my eye.

‘Indeed, he was fortunate. We must hope nothing occurs to disturb him further.’

In my mind’s eye I imagined sticking my fork in Hans’ hand. He still feared I would reveal his uncouth offer. I would have to speak to him.

‘Who now heads the investigation?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it’s all solved,’ said Richenda. ‘It turns out that when they looked into it, the police found there had been several sightings of a tramp in the countryside. They assume he had come into the church for warmth, or maybe he intended to rob the poor box. Only Richard found him. Well, you know my twin, he would not have dealt kindly with the man.’

‘It is unfortunate he had a knife,’ said my mother. ‘Or the worst sustained would have been bruises on both sides.’ She took a good swallow of wine. ‘I abhor man’s innate tendency to violence.’

‘As do we all, Mama,’ I said. ‘But where did this tramp find the knife?’

‘Oh, it came from our kitchen,’ said Richenda easily. ‘Cook had the windows open with all the baking she was doing. The police believe he must have reached through one and lifted it.’

‘To be clear,’ broke in Hans, ‘they do not believe the man intended to murder my brother-in-law, but that he took the knife to facilitate an easier life for himself. For the cutting of wood and such things.’

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask where the knife was now. I could not recall it clearly. ‘How extraordinary,’ I said. ‘How fate and fortune intertwines.’

My mother nodded. ‘You should talk to your step-father about that. He has many interesting things to say on the matter of luck and misfortune.’

‘Perhaps we should turn to happier topics,’ suggested Hans. The dinner continued in a slightly awkward manner, but I had no doubt that at least my mother and Richenda welcomed my return.

After dinner we all retired early to our rooms. I believe we all sought the normality of routine as much as we sought not to indulge in further conversation. I did not believe the story of the tramp for one moment and I doubted the others did either. However, there appeared to be an unspoken acceptance of the ridiculous idea. I mourned Richard no more than the others, but the easy lie of his death troubled me. I decided to take a turn about the gardens before I settled for the night. My mind raced with thoughts and I knew I would only toss and turn if I went to bed.

The moon shone three-quarters full gilding the gardens with silver. The scent of jasmine hung heavy on the air and somewhere an owl hooted. The night had turned unusually mild. As I paced, I grew gradually calmer. I shuffled the information I had gained in my mind. I had an itch at the back of my brain. I knew I had heard something important. At that moment, Hans appeared around the edge of a hedge. I started and jumped back. I kept enough of my awareness not to scream. ‘Whatever are you doing?’ I asked.

‘I might as you the same, sister? Did you not hear at dinner that there is a tramp on the loose who has killed?’

‘I am not your sister...’

‘But you and Bertram have made up, have you not? And you will be?’

‘Can I help you with something, Hans?’

‘I spotted you from my study and I was concerned for your safety.’

‘I have found this walled estate to be most safe during my time here,’ I said. ‘I assume if this tramp remains unapprehended you have put further measures in place. You take such good care of the people in your charge.’

‘Take my arm, Euphemia, and we can walk together. Like old times.’

‘I would rather not,’ I said, keeping my distance.

‘You cannot think that I would harm you in any way?’ said Hans, sounding genuinely shocked.

‘No, I do not think that,’ I said. ‘But I do think our last conversation – before my departure – has left a mark upon our friendship that will take some time to fade.’

‘I wanted to save you from the noose. I could not bear to think of... I was open and honest with you.’

‘As you are not with your wife.’

‘Have you told her?’

‘No, and if it eases your mind, I have every intention of forgetting the words we exchanged that night.’

‘You did not refuse me, Euphemia.’

‘Hans, leave it be. I will marry Bertram in time, and we will forget all this.’

‘Speaking of Bertram, I see the very man closing upon us. I will leave you together.’ As Hans walked away, I recalled what Fitzroy had said; if Hans had murdered Richard then secretly helping me flee would turn suspicion away from him. I felt sick to my stomach. Hans did not strike me as a killer – but an impulsive action on the back of a threat from Richard?

‘You look very sombre,’ said Bertram. ‘Was that Hans, walking with you?’

‘I heard at dinner that you had been unwell.’

‘Shouldn’t have tried to strangle the on-duty bobby with his own collar.’

‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

Bertram dropped his head slightly in a sheepish manner. ‘I was rather upset about the whole thing.’

I put my arms round his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘I would very much prefer it if you did not allow your temper to finish you off before we can marry.’

‘Me too,’ said Bertram. ‘It is all a terrible mess. I don’t believe the tramp rubbish, do you?’

‘No, I think something came out of Richard’s past and killed him.’

‘Evil deeds catching up and all that?’

I nodded. ‘To be honest, my love, if I was not under suspicion – and I will always be under suspicion until the killer is caught – I probably would not trouble much, even if he was your brother.’

Bertram slipped my hand through his arm and began to walk again. ‘Better not to stay still. We might be overheard,’ he said. ‘No, I wouldn’t bother much either. Seems a terrible thing to say of one’s own kin, but he was never lovable, even as a child. I hadn’t thought much about you being under a cloud for this...’

‘Stain on my reputation,’ I said wryly. ‘You cannot make me believe that people are not talking about this the length and breadth of the county – if not further abroad. It is not as if they have caught an actual tramp, is it?’

‘No. I used the same sort of nonsense back when Papa was killed. Fortunately, no one ever suspected me.’

I patted his arm. ‘You are not a killer.’

‘Thank you,’ said Bertram. ‘I have always hoped my future bride would feel that way.’ I laughed. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Why, over to the church,’ said Bertram. ‘You want to take another look at the scene, don’t you?’

‘I would not have asked you to come with me.’

‘Well, I dashed well am not going to have you wandering around a creepy old church looking for a murderer without me. What kind of man do you think I am?’

‘A brave, faithful, and loyal one,’ I said.

‘You make me sound like a dog,’ said Bertram.

‘But not a sheep,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Old joke. Never mind. I appreciate your concern and would be most happy to accept your offer of assistance.’ ‘What are we looking for?’ asked Bertram. ‘I really have no idea.’ ‘Oh good, same as usual then.’

We walked in companionable silence until we came to the church. ‘Oh, will it be...’ Bertram produced a key. ‘I know how you think,’ he said. ‘Where do we start.’

‘I confess I am not keen to re-enter the antechamber, but that is where our most serious search must be done. Perhaps we could start with a general sweep of the church?’ Bertram assented. ‘We should also check the pathways around the church in case –’ I broke off.

‘In case anyone whoever killed him went out the back.’

‘I do not consider it could be you,’ I said.

‘Then you are a better person than I,’ said Bertram. ‘I did genuinely wonder if you had killed Richard. I wouldn’t have blamed you...’

I stopped and laid both hands on his arm. ‘I know I can be both passionate and headstrong,’ I said, ‘but I promise you I would never take a life in such a state. I know myself. My anger leads to no more violence than the occasional slap.’

‘I hope the one you gave Fitzroy last time was a good one.’

‘It had a ring to it,’ I said. ‘The skin on his face flamed.’ ‘It’s a wonder you got it past him to be honest,’ said Bertram, prising his arm free to unlock the church door. ‘He let me hit him,’ I said.

‘You’re not going to try and convince me that man felt remorse, are you?’ said Bertram pushing the door open. ‘Because I don’t believe it.’

‘I have no way of knowing what goes on in his head,’ I said. ‘But I agree, I would not be able to get one past him in general.’

Bertram pecked me on the cheek. ‘Well, I am damn glad you did. If my ticker wasn’t so dodgy, I’d have given that man a thrashing a dozen times over.’ These words were spoken with an edge that surprised me. I knew Bertram disliked the spy, but this sounded as if he hated him. I let the topic go for now and appealed to his chivalrous instinct. I caught at his arm again.

‘Gosh,’ I said, ‘it does look much bigger and more foreboding in the darkness.’

Bertram produced a lighter from his pocket. ‘I’ll get those candles lit in a trice. You’ll see there is nothing to be afraid of. I’ll say this for Hans, he does have a lovely little church.’ He wandered off dotting lights across the main body of the church. I followed him. Having grown up a vicar’s daughter I have no fear of churches, the deceased, or even corpses, but better to let Bertram think he was in charge. Even as I thought this I gasped inwardly. Was I merely playing the clever fiancee who did not want her beau to feel bad –manipulating him as women have done to their men down the centuries – or was I taking on more and more of the attitudes of a spy.

‘Hey, Euphemia!’

I turned around to see Bertram standing in the pulpit. A gloriously carved oaken one with inset panels showing biblical scenes and a great carving of a dove supporting the church bible. You reached it up a tiny staircase, where it hung some several feet off the ground.

‘Have you found something?’

‘No,’ said Bertram. ‘I was wondering if I would make a good vicar. You get quite a view from up here. I can see why some priests get a bit self-important during their sermons. The pews look pretty small from here.

‘I think you would hate being a vicar,’ I said. ‘There’s an awful of talking to people and helping them with their problems. Barely any time to have a cup of tea, let alone enjoy a cigar while you read a good book.’

Bertram tripped down the steps. ‘Sounds like a dreadful life.’

‘I think not, if you’re called to it.’

‘Must be why they call it a vocation,’ said Bertram. ‘I will take the left pews if you take the right. Can you bend down in that dress?’ Fitzroy, I thought, would have asked if my lacing was too tight, but Bertram would never mention such intimate matters to a lady.

‘I shall manage,’ I told him, though I expected it would be somewhat uncomfortable.

After a stomach-squeezing half an hour, I finished my side. We met at the font to examine our finds. Bertram dragged one of the large candles over so we could see. ‘I have a lot of sweetie wrappers,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise people bought sweets to a wedding. It’s not as if we weren’t going to feed them.’

‘Most of them are breath mints,’ I said checking the wrappers. ‘You did have a stag night. Maybe some of your fellows were still hung over.’

‘Doubt it. Hans organised a rather sober affair. Probably because the Bishop came.’

I laughed. ‘I think he mistakes the character of my step-father. While he wouldn’t be up for anything outrageous, I don’t think he wears his clerical cloth too tightly.’

‘I also found a seating arrangement. It’s quite precise. I don’t remember this.’

I took in and examined it in the candlelight. ‘Neither do I, but it is the kind of thing my mother might do. I found another copy.’ I held them up side by side. ‘They are not the same.’

‘Is it your mother’s handwriting?’

‘It’s a good copperplate,’ I said. ‘Many people could have done it.’

‘Not me. Being left-handed, I always smudged the ink across the page.’ ‘I didn’t realise...’

‘Oh, I mainly use my right hand. Used to get beaten for using my left at school. Everything’s still easier with my left though.’

‘Bertram, I am more than happy for you to be outwardly left-handed when we set up home together. I will tell the maids to arrange cutlery and other things accordingly.’

Bertram made a harrumphing sort of sound and then said, ‘You are a jolly good sort of a girl. I am ever so glad I got up the courage to ask you to marry me.’

‘I wanted you to ask me for an age,’ I said. ‘But I didn’t know how to go about encouraging you. I only got engaged to Rory because I thought I could never be with you, and it would make things easier.’

‘Silly girl,’ said Bertram, and I heard the relief in his voice. ‘I almost asked you once, much earlier in our acquaintance, but I bottled out and asked you to be my housekeeper instead.’

I answered him with an embrace, and we both forgot about our search, Richard, and the rest of the world for a short while.