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FRIDAY, 20 OCTOBER 1820
While dressing Lady Sophia’s hair the following morning, I learned that Lady Sedgwick wished to leave Morland Manor at once and intended to approach Lady Morland first thing regarding her plans.
“We will likely be able to leave before luncheon,” the countess declared to her daughter with me standing right there brush in hand.
“But, the ball, mama,” Lady Sophia protested. “I should like to attend the ball. We could leave first thing the morning after.”
From her position before the tall wardrobe, Lady Sedgwick whirled to face her daughter. “A man has been murdered on the estate grounds, Sophia! It is both unsafe and unwise to linger in the country another day! I have always been of the opinion that country folk are uncivilized, this heinous crime merely proves my point.”
Gazing at me in the mirror as I stood behind her, Lady Sophia and I exchanged longsuffering looks. Still, I dared not voice my thoughts aloud for fear of censure from the girl’s high-ranking mother.
“I will send word to my groomsmen to get our carriage ready post haste and we shall leave for London just as soon as our belongings are packed,” declared the Countess in a tone that brooked no objection.
Neither her daughter nor I offered one.
A bit later, while eating my own breakfast in the servant’s hall, I overheard additional talk on the same subject amongst the lady’s maids.
“My mistress says the heir being accused of murder by his own father puts a different complexion on things,” said Tilly, maid to Miss Amelia Durham, the daughter of a baron.
“Sir Morland accused his own son of the crime?” exclaimed Lucy, Lady Sophia’s maid.
I smothered a grin as I recalled that Lady Sedgwick and Lady Sophia had both taken dinner in their room last evening, which meant that Lady Sedgwick had not witnessed, nor yet heard about, what had occurred in the drawing room after dinner. Had she known that the heir had been accused of the crime, no doubt she would have hustled her daughter off to London last night!
“ . . . didn’t accuse him outright,” Miss Elizabeth Banes’ maid Rosie was saying, “he merely asked him what he knew of it.”
“But his tone told everyone that he expected his son knew plenty!” insisted Tilly.
“What about your mistress?” Miss Hester Grant’s maid, Meg asked me.
“Miss Featherstone does not want to leave Morland Manor at all, but her sister Mrs. Collins wishes to. They have decided to stay at least for the ball, but beyond that, I haven’t a clue what their plans are.”
As I rose to leave the servant’s dining hall, I caught a glimpse of Nancy Jane hurrying back down the stairs from her morning duties of changing the bed linens and airing out the bedchambers. Her brown curls were tousled and her cap askew. In her arms, she carried a bundle of dirty bed linens.
“Have ‘ye heard what ‘ye’ll be a-doin’ today?” she asked, pausing briefly before she hurried on her way.
“No. Have things changed again?”
My cousin nodded. “You’re all to go sightseeing up to the old Castle ruins. Place is haunted, but legend says there’s buried treasure, although no one’s ever found it.” She giggled. “Take a shovel and if’n ye’ finds the treasure, ye’ can share it with me!” Laughing, she hurried on her way.
Minutes later, in Miss Featherstone’s bedchamber, Caroline and her sister were also talking about the altered plans for the day.
“No one wanted to stay indoors and study their lines for a silly old play,” Caroline told me, “so suddenly Lady Morland ups and cancels the play altogether. “We’re to go sightseeing today. Someplace called The Old Warwick Castle Ruins. Legend has it, the castle is haunted!” she added, a sparkle of delight in her hazel eyes.
“Well, I don’t mind saying I was glad enough when the heir said he didn’t want to go,” Mrs. Collins interjected.
Caroline turned to me again. “William Morland said he’d seen all the sights around here and that he intended to go angling in the river today instead.”
“What of Edward and Mr. Talbot,” I asked. “Are they to go with us, or will they also go angling?”
“All the gentlemen are to go with us today,” Caroline replied. “Lady Morland told the heir, ‘you will accompany us today, sir, and every day, young man.’ At times, she rather treats him as if he were still in the nursery,” she declared.
“Well, as large a woman as she is,” I said, although I probably shouldn’t have, “I suppose she could still turn her eldest son over her knees and paddle him if necessary.” Which brought a laugh from Caroline and surprisingly, also a chuckle from Alice.
In a mere half hour’s time, all the ladies and their chaperones and maids were once again assembled below-stairs in the foyer. This time, I observed that Lady Morland was making the seating arrangements in the opposite manner from the usual order of precedence. Therefore, since Miss Featherstone occupied the bottom rung of the ranking ladder, she and I soon found ourselves seated in the same vehicle alongside the heir; Caroline beside Mr. William Morland, me on the bench opposite, our fancy landau picked out with red stripes on either side, at the front of the pack.
Miss Amelia Durham, I noted, was in the carriage directly behind us seated primly beside Mr. Edward Morland. Her chin was hitched up as tightly as her bun of brown hair was drawn back from her face. I wondered what, if anything, the pair of them would find to talk about? Sill, when we all traded places, Caroline would be the next young lady allowed to spend time in his company so that was something pleasant to look forward to.
Then, in a surprising twist, or perhaps in an effort to liven things up, I noticed Lady Morland paired Miss Hester Grant and her maid Meg with Mr. Talbot inside the third open-air landau. The rest of the ladies, except for Lady Sedgwick and her daughter, who were seated side-by-side in a small tidy curricle at the end of the parade, were all handed into a much larger barouche, though it was still a rather tight squeeze to fit everyone in. That I was also greatly looking forward to our turn to sit with Mr. Talbot brought a pleased smile to my face.
The brisk October day was especially warm and sunny, the blue sky overhead dotted with puffy white clouds, although on the horizon, I spotted a few dark ones lurking. Still, it felt good to be leaving the manor house altogether, if only for the day. The disclosure of the dead body found on the estate grounds and the resulting interrogation by the constable last evening had managed to transform the festive atmosphere in the house to one of anxiety and gloom and in some cases, even, suspicion.
Although I had not yet heard anything said on the subject, before everyone had been handed into a carriage, I spotted Lady Morland and Lady Sedgwick conversing together in the foyer, and suspected that Lady Morland had somehow persuaded Lady Sedgwick to postpone her plans to leave for London today. Although, now that I thought on it, the conversation could have been about Lady Sedgwick refusing to allow her daughter to ride with the heir in his carriage and that was what had precipitated the change in order. But, whatever the reason, I was glad of it, and settled back to enjoy the drive and whatever the day brought in the way of new adventure.
What it brought in the way of conversation with the heir was precious little. That surly gentleman was dressed as if he still fully intended to go angling today; wearing a tattered-looking pair of tweed breeches tucked into his boots, (clean boots, by the by) and a dark jacket hanging open over a plain cream-colored shirt. Thus far into our drive, he had spent the entire time with his arms folded across his middle, his eyes glued to the trees and open fields the tidy open landau was tooling past.
Since there hadn’t yet been a scrap of talk amongst the three of us, I began to speculate upon the boots the gentleman wore, which looked to be the very boots I had scraped clean the night before. Suddenly, I wondered how the gentleman’s boots had become so very muddy? The day of the picnic, which was merely the day before yesterday, he had not got out of the carriage to walk down by the lake as had the rest of us, then that night he wasn’t at dinner, and had only arrived home much later when I overheard he and his mother arguing. The constable claimed the murdered man’s body was discovered yesterday near where we had picnicked the day before. Although it had not rained a single day this week, I had noticed that the ground closer to the little lake where we ventured was indeed quite muddy, so if the man I spotted hiding in the woods had somehow come upon William Morland there and the two had fought, that could explain where the heir’s boots had become so very muddy. And, they had, indeed, been quite muddy.
The heir was sitting right here, so close our knees were nearly knocking, so since no one was saying anything, I decided to ask him a question, or two. After all, I might never have another opportunity and I confess I would breathe easier if the identity of the killer were made known and the guilty party removed from the premises, even if it did turn out to be the Morland heir.
“I understand you wished to go angling today, sir,” I began.
His eyes cut toward me. I watched his lips firm as if considering whether or not to answer my query. “Indeed,” he finally muttered and promptly looked away.
“Do you often go angling?”
His dark eyes again shifted toward me, this time the scowl upon his face deepening, the look clearly saying: now why would a silly, no-account lady’s maid want to know that?
So as not to anger him, or horrors! arouse his suspicions in any way, I smiled. “I merely wondered if you go angling in the little lake where we picnicked the other day? I’m certain I saw a fish jump clean out of the water as we walked near the shore.”
The rude man sniffed but with his lips again pressed tightly together, he deigned to reply.
I smiled again. “Perhaps that very fish, and more like it, will be there another day; and you can catch them then.”
As if to dismiss my foolish prattle altogether, the heir cast a disdainful eye-roll skyward and shook his uncovered head.
William Morland was, indeed, a disagreeable, foul-tempered man who lacked refinement and possessed not a shred of decent manners. I vowed then and there to never honor him again with a single word from my lips.
Neither Caroline nor I were one bit sorry when it was time to change places with Miss Durham and her maid. Once we were settled in Mr. Edward Morland’s carriage, it was as if suddenly, the warm sun was, indeed, shining down upon us and filling every corner of the countryside with joy and cheer.
“Hello, again, Miss Featherstone; how nice to see you Miss Abbott. Lovely day for a drive, is it not?”
Caroline came instantly alive, a pretty smile lighting up her face, her hazel eyes sparkling. “It is quite a lovely day, sir. Might you tell us about the old castle ruins, please? I’ve never seen a ruin before.”
“My cousin says there is also buried treasure there,” I added, feeling inordinately at ease in this gentleman’s company. It was as if the two gentlemen sprang from a completely different litter of pups.
“Your cousin?” the second son inquired.
“Nancy Jane Abbott. She’s a chambermaid at the manor house. It was she who told Lady Morland about me, and . . . that’s how I came to be here, as a lady’s maid, I mean.” I paused. “Forgive me, I should not be talking. You and Caroline carry on, please.”
Looking away, I chastised myself for taking time away from Caroline’s precious few moments with Mr. Edward Morland. She was keen on him, and why I was employed as a lady’s maid at Morland Manor was truly a thoughtless thing to say. Suddenly, I realized that since the murder and the interrogation that followed, I’d clean forgot that I was pretending to be a French lady’s maid. Couldn’t even recall when was the last time I’d said, “Oui, mademoiselle.”
“Tell me, Miss Featherstone,” I heard Edward ask Caroline, “where in London do you reside?”
I ceased to listen as Caroline and Edward Morland animatedly conversed with one another. For her sake, I was happy that the second son seemed to be taking a keen interest in her. And for my part, I was vastly looking forward to speaking with Mr. Talbot again very soon.
Unfortunately, we reached the Old Warwick Castle Ruins before another switch-up within the carriages was made. And, rather than begin to tramp through the picturesque ruins at once; ruins, which consisted mainly of bits and pieces of toppled towers and chards of old stone railings, Lady Morland declared that we should all eat a quick bite of lunch before we set out on foot. She directed us toward the four or five blankets that a brace of servants were even then spreading upon the ground.
With regret, I noticed that the three gentlemen grouped themselves together on one blanket forcing the ladies to seek out one another’s company upon additional pallets spread upon the ground. Luncheon today was obviously a hastily prepared affair as it consisted only of bread, three kinds of cheese, boiled eggs and apples. However, I noted that the men also had cold meats along with their bread and cheese. I assumed that men, being of a hardier constitution than we ladies, did, indeed, require hardier fare.
At any rate, as soon as we’d all eaten our fill, the servants began to gather up the remains of the food and the blankets, while Lady Morland and the three gentlemen led us towards the ruins. To tour the dilapidated structure took less time than to tell about it and soon we were all once again herded back into the carriages. And, none too soon, for almost at once the heavens opened up and a pelting rain began to shower down upon us. This, of course, necessitated a quick halt as drivers and footmen hopped down to hurriedly haul up the leather hoods on those landaus possessed of such a contraption. Fortunately, ours was. But, unfortunately, Lady Sedgwick’s was not. Therefore, both she and her daughter, Lady Sophia, were already quite rain-soaked by the time they climbed up and squeezed into our small carriage.
Conversation was also noticeably thin on the return trip to Morland Manor. Except for numerous huffs and loud complaints coming from the incensed and now quite wet Lady Sedgwick, nary a pleasant word was said or heard. Whether or not this occurrence would cause the soggy countess to renew her decision to leave Morland Manor before the day was out was anyone’s guess.