Cavendon Hall Part 28

"Something's been bothering me for a few weeks, since the christening ... do you think I offended Diedre when I didn't ask her to be a G.o.dmother to Alicia?"

Hugo exclaimed, "No, of course not! None of your sisters were asked, so how could she take offense?"

Daphne couldn't help laughing. "Dulcie's only five years old, so she could hardly be a G.o.dmother."

Laughing with her, he replied, after a moment, "I think you made the right choices. Lavinia and Vanessa will do their duty to Alicia, and let's face it, they are grown-ups."

"Not Lavinia, according to Papa; he's forever announcing she's childish."

"I know, but he doesn't really mean it ... not actually. You're worrying about Diedre because she's been away for weeks, but it was that kind of trip, you know. Paris, Rome, Berlin, Vienna. The whole works. The Grand Tour. Anyway, if it still bothers you when you have your next baby, you can ask her then."

Daphne nodded. "Yes, how right you are, and you always manage to make me feel better, Hugo." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "And you were right to ask Guy and your cousin Mark to be her G.o.dfathers."

Hanson was decanting a bottle of red wine in the little pantry next to the dining room, when Gordon Lane suddenly appeared at his side.

"Excuse me, Hanson, but could I have a quick word with you, please?"

"Can't we speak later, Lane? As you can see, I am decanting a very good bottle of Pommerol."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but there's never a chance to ask a question. You're so busy, Mr. Hanson. It won't take but a second. It's important."

Hanson, conscious of the serious tone in the footman's voice, turned around. "Very well then. What is it?"

"As you know, Peggy Swift and I are engaged, and we'd like to get married soon, Mr. Hanson. In August, if that's all right with you?"

Hanson nodded. "You're asking for a day off, I presume?"

"Yes, for the two of us, Mr. Hanson. Do I have to go to Mrs. Thwaites to ask about Peggy's day off?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary, Lane. Why don't you take the first Sat.u.r.day in August, and I'll have a word with Mrs. Thwaites later. You and Swift worked very well this weekend, and I was particularly pleased with the way you looked after Mr. and Mrs. Handelsman. Will you be marrying in the village church?"

"I expect so, Mr. Hanson, and thank you very much. It'll make Peggy happy, knowing we can now set a date."

"Congratulations," Hanson said, and turned back to the funnel he was using to pour the wine into the decanter.

Dulcie hummed to herself as she went through the conservatory and down the little hill, heading for the bluebell woods. She had been longing to pick bluebells for Alicia all day, but had not found the opportunity until now. When Nanny was preparing the bath for her and putting out her nightclothes she was usually preoccupied, and Dulcie seized the moment.

It was only six-thirty and still light. The child strode into the woods determinedly, her eyes darting from side to side, until she saw a patch of the flowers, and ran toward them, a happy smile on her face. She bent down and began to pick the bluebells, and then suddenly stopped. Next to her hand was a big black shoe.

Glancing up, Dulcie saw a man standing there, staring down at her. She had never seen him before. As she straightened up, he said, "Why, if it isn't little Dulcie."

"Lady Dulcie," she said. "And who are you?"

"I'm the Bluebell Man," he answered, and grinned at her.

Dulcie frowned. "I've never heard of you. And this is my father's land."

"I know. And he's the one who appointed me the Bluebell Man, Lady Dulcie." He stared at the flowers in her hand. "That's not a nice enough bunch. Come with me. I can take you to the best patch in the wood."

Dulcie hesitated. She was not afraid of the man but she was wary all of a sudden. Before she could step back, he s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand in his, and said, "Let's hurry. We must get the best before it gets too dark to see."

"I think I have enough," Dulcie exclaimed, and tried to break free of him, but he held her hand tightly in his. She tugged; he wouldn't let go.

The man was about to walk off with her when he heard the sound of a gun being c.o.c.ked. He let go of Dulcie's hand and ran. He rushed forward, cras.h.i.+ng through the bushes, disappearing into the woods.

A moment later Dulcie was looking up at Percy Swann, the head gamekeeper, who was standing there with a rifle in his hands.

She smiled at him. "h.e.l.lo, Mr. Percy. I didn't like that man. He wanted to take me to another bluebell patch. But I wouldn't go."

"You did the right thing, Lady Dulcie. Come along, I'll take you home." He bent down, picked her up in his arms, and carried her back to the house, holding the rifle in one hand.

It didn't take him long to get to the conservatory. The hue and cry had already started, and he saw the enormous relief flooding the earl's worried face as he put Dulcie down on the ground.

She ran toward her father, exclaiming, "I went to pick bluebells for Alicia, Papa, and Mr. Percy came and sent the funny man away. And then he carried me home." She smiled at Percy and said, "Thank you."

Felicity was as white as chalk, also worried. She came forward and took hold of Dulcie's hand. Looking at Percy, her red-rimmed eyes full of grat.i.tude, she said, "My thanks, Mr. Swann. It's a good thing you were down there." She hurried away with Dulcie, who was still clutching the bluebells. The weeping nanny trailed after them, unable to quell her tears.

Pulling himself together, Lord Mowbray said, "What exactly happened, Percy?"

"I always patrol the area near the bluebell woods while it's still light. I've been doing so since last year, when there were rumors of poachers. I was walking up from the lake when I spotted Lady Dulcie going into the woods by herself. I ran h.e.l.l for leather, m'lord. As I went into the bluebell woods I saw a man holding Lady Dulcie's hand, about to lead her away. I surprised him. I c.o.c.ked the trigger, and he heard it, as I knew he would. He took off, ran into the woods. I lifted her up and brought her home."

"Did you recognize the man?"

"I didn't, your lords.h.i.+p. He had muttonchop whiskers and was wearing a flat cap, so it was impossible to see much of his face. He was badly dressed. Tallish though, a man with long legs and long arms."

"Disguised perhaps?" Charles asked.

"Maybe, m'lord. I think it would've been hard for anyone to identify him. Muttonchop whiskers cover most of the face." Percy Swann shook his head. "I suppose I could have run after him, but I wouldn't have caught him, and I thought it was better to get Lady Dulcie home."

"You did the right thing. Miss Charlotte insists the bluebell woods in particular are watched by your outdoors team. Why do you think that is, Swann?"

"Because they are quite dense in parts and also they're at the end of our property on that side of Cavendon land. Once the woods end there's that dirt road that separates our land from the Havers land, and the land belonging to Lord Judson."

Charles said, "We need a barbed-wire fence, don't we?"

"I think we should build a very high wall, if you don't mind me saying so, Lord Mowbray. With barbed wire along the top."

"That would block entry to the woods from the road. What about the rest of the property?"

"We should build more walls where there are gaps, which is where they are needed."

"Parts of Cavendon on the perimeters have always been open, but times have changed. I think we'd better make our lands safer than they are. I'll talk to the estate manager tomorrow. He can make the plans and carry them forward. And thank you, Swann, I dread to think what might have happened to Lady Dulcie if you hadn't been around."

"It's a good thing I was on my rounds, m'lord. Well, I'll say good night."

"Good night, Swann, I'm extremely grateful to you," Charles replied. Charles left the conservatory and went upstairs to the nursery floor, fuming inside. He found Felicity in the nursery, talking to the nanny, Maureen Carlton, who was still in tears.

Instructing her to come outside into the corridor, he informed her she had been in dereliction of her duties, and that he could no longer employ her. He added that she had until tomorrow at noon to leave Cavendon.

Felicity came out and joined him, and together they went downstairs to the main bedroom floor. Once alone in Felicity's bedroom, Charles said, "She had to go. She has no brains. I can't have any child of ours put at risk because of another person's stupidity."

"I agree, Charles," she answered, and added, "I was about to give her notice myself when you arrived." Felicity sat down in a chair, feeling nauseous. "Thank goodness Dulcie doesn't understand, and she's sitting happily in the bathtub." She shook her head. "I can't bear to think what might have happened if Percy Swann hadn't been out there in the grounds."

"She would have been abducted," Charles replied in a terse voice. And he shuddered when he considered the harm that could have been done to little Dulcie, his Botticelli angel. It didn't bear thinking about. Later, he couldn't help wondering who the trespa.s.ser was. He also knew he had no way of ever finding out, much to his frustration.

Charles excused himself, went into his dressing room, and removed his jacket. He put on his silk dressing gown and returned to Felicity's bedroom.

To his surprise, she was still sitting in the chair, had not changed from her dinner dress. And now she had her head in her hands.

When she looked up he was taken aback. There was a bleak expression on her face. She had obviously had one of those sudden mood swings which had frequently been occurring lately.

"What is it?" he asked from the doorway, reluctant to intrude on her when she was like this.

"This is your fault, Charles. You have been lax in securing this estate," she said in a low, flat voice. "It needs proper armed guards, not woodsmen. Dulcie might have been taken, raped, and murdered tonight."

He was flabbergasted, and exclaimed, "It was one of my armed men who found her, and very quickly. She's safe because of Percy Swann, and you said so yourself. You praised him, Felicity. His armed teams are all over the estate, and have been for a long time. And we're doing repairs to the walls tomorrow."

Taking a step forward, he said quietly, "This has been terribly upsetting for both of us, for everyone here, in fact. And frightening, I know that. I know how distressed you were, but the estate is safe now, and it will be even safer."

When she made no response, he added, "I don't want you to become upset again. Dulcie is safe, and always will be safe from now on."

"I've never worried about Dulcie, because you've got all your devoted Swann women here. I know full well they keep an eye on her just to stay in your good graces."

Annoyed though he was by this comment, he did not want to bicker with his wife. She seemed like a stranger to him these days. There was an unbelievable change in her that puzzled him and he could not help wondering at times what had actually caused this. She was certainly not the woman he had married.

Turning, walking back to the door of his dressing room, he said in a level voice, "I'll be back in a moment. And then perhaps we can draw a line under this ... be more relaxed with each other. Like we used to be. Perhaps I can share your bed tonight, darling."

"I don't think so," she said in that same lifeless, flat tone of voice.

Charles frowned. "Why not? What's wrong?" he asked.

She told him.

Forty-seven.

The story of Dulcie wandering off into the bluebell woods, and her near abduction by a stranger on the property, sent a shock wave through Cavendon. By eight o'clock that Sunday evening the news had even traveled to the village of Little Skell.

Before he went home, Percy Swann went to see his aunt Charlotte, who as matriarch of the Swann family was always informed first about everything that happened at Cavendon. And then she wrote it up in the record book. At least that was the a.s.sumption everyone made.

Charlotte's face broke into a smile when she answered the knock on her front door, opened it, and saw Percy standing there. Like his older brother Walter, Percy was a good-looking young man, tall, athletic, and strong. Although he was thirty-three, he appeared younger, as did Walter and Charlotte as well. It seemed to be a Swann trait, and one they were all happy to be endowed with. Percy, despite his age, was the head gamekeeper and ran the grouse moor and grounds with enormous skill and much love. He had been born on the estate and he knew every inch of it. He was a great marksman and had never missed a target yet, was known affectionately as "the Perfect Shot" by his fellow workers.

Within a second Charlotte knew that something wasn't quite right on the estate, simply because Percy would not have disturbed her on a Sunday evening unless there was some sort of issue.

As was her way, she did not question him, simply ushered him into the parlor, went over to the sideboard, and asked if he would like a drink.

"Thanks, Aunt Charlotte, I wouldn't say no to a scotch, providing you're going to join me."

"I will indeed," she answered, and poured the liquor into two gla.s.ses.

Once she had handed him the drink, and they had touched gla.s.ses, they sat down opposite each other. There were a few moments of silence as they both took sips of the scotch, and then Charlotte said, "Is there something amiss on the estate, Percy? Or is this a social visit?"

He told her everything in great detail, described the stranger on the estate, and confided the earl's plan to build a high wall at the end of the bluebell woods, and wherever there were gaps.

Charlotte had turned paler than ever as she listened to him, and her stomach had lurched when she realized that if Percy hadn't shown up at exactly the moment he had, Dulcie would have been taken. When she picked up her gla.s.s she noticed that her hand was shaking.

After steadying herself, she said, "I am breaking a confidence now, Percy, but I know it will remain between us. Peggy Swift and Gordon Lane, who are engaged, as you know, occasionally went for a stroll late at night. Mostly in the bluebell woods. Peggy told Lady Daphne that she, in particular, felt they were being watched by a Peeping Tom. The reason she confided in her ladys.h.i.+p was because she was troubled someone was wandering around Cavendon. Peggy gave her permission to tell me."

Percy had listened to her attentively and now said, "It has to be a stranger to these parts, someone who has moved to a town nearby, because I know every Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry in all of the earl's three villages." Percy sat back in the chair, sipping his drink, and then said swiftly, "I know one thing, it's not any of the gypsy lads. They keep to themselves, and always have. It's only their sister Genevra that roams around, but she's harmless enough."

"Oh yes, I know that. The Romany family is happy to live on this land with the earl's permission."

"This is not a poacher roaming about, Aunt Charlotte. This is someone with criminal intent, someone out to hurt people, in my opinion," he told her, his voice grim.

Charlotte closed her eyes, and a s.h.i.+ver ran through her. "Oh, please don't say that, Percy. It worries me so much when I think that there's danger lurking out there in the park or in the woods ... it's always been so safe here."

"It is safe, Aunt Charlotte, please don't worry. I've always got my lads out 'til it gets dark." Percy paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, and then he said, "Please tell Lord Mowbray that he has to have a curfew, something like that anyway. He has to tell the family they can't go wandering about in the grounds at night. Hanson should be instructed to tell the staff the same thing."

"I will explain, of course, but it's an awful thing to have to do. To have a curfew, I mean. This is Cavendon Hall, for goodness' sake."

"I know, but it's a necessity. When I was walking back to the village, it occurred to me that I could get a band of the lads together, and we could lay in wait in the woods every night. But I do believe I frightened the chap off when I c.o.c.ked the rifle. He realized I had a gun."

"And thank G.o.d you did!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"So you will talk to the earl, won't you?"

"I will, I promise. I'm sure he'll want to discuss it anyway. I will actually be working with him tomorrow morning, so he will no doubt bring the matter up."

Percy nodded. "I did think about putting traps down, but what if a small animal was caught and not the trespa.s.ser?"

"No, don't do that, Percy. It will only hurt the wildlife. I doubt he'll come back knowing there's a man with a rifle waiting for him."

Much later, after Percy had gone home to his wife, Edna, and his waiting supper, Charlotte went upstairs and opened the safe in the cupboard. She took out the record book for 1914, and wrote in details of her meeting with Percy. As she put the record book away, she noticed the dark blue one at the bottom of the pile, and pulled it out, as she often had before.

Taking it over to a chair, she sat down and opened it to the page she had read countless times before, intrigued by the one entry. It had been written thirty-seven years ago.

In mine own hand. July 1876 I loveth my ladie. Beyond all.