“Gentlemen, we have a problem. Apparently, we have had a seducer among us for several years. But lately, he is increasing his game. This is not tolerable. It would seem this has been going on for more than ten years, yet none of us have caught wind of it until now.”
“It is possible,” Mr. Hammonds said, “that it is not someone employed on the main estate at all. It could be someone who has moved into the neighborhood.”
“It could be, I suppose,” Jonathan thought about it for a moment. “But why now? Why is it increasing now? It just does not make sense.”
Mr. McAhmladhson pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “We should think about things that have changed. What is rationally or even radically different from last year or the year before? What new thing has come into our lives?”
“We’ve hired new staff. But staff come and go, I don’t think that would be it.” Jonathan furrowed his brow in thought. “I didn’t go to Parliament this year. But I can’t think what that would have to do with this. Beyond that, Ahmlad, everything is pretty much the same as always.”
“Well, Your Grace, since none of us three are criminal masterminds intent on killing others, it is not surprising that we can’t put our finger right on it. But I’d be willing to stake my next year’s pay that when we discern what we did differently this year, it will reveal what triggered this whole nightmare.”
“The only thing I can think of that is radically different is that the Duchess and I are not going to London this Season. But how could that create a situation like this? It is completely daft to think that it would set off such a chain of events. After all, the one person who truly resents not having a London Season is my wife. One thing for sure, she is unlikely to be seducing young women or murdering them.”
“True enough, Your Grace, True enough. Whoever is committing these crimes is definitely male.”
After a little more talk, Mr. McAhmladhson and Mr. Hammonds went on about their business, and Jonathan sat at the table staring into space. What had changed?
So much was different, with the war on the continent, with distant change bringing changes closer at hand. The budget for the estate had never been so close before. He had never stayed home from Parliament. And there was one very special change. But that change had to remain locked in his heart. He should not even admit it to himself.
Miss Singer has captured my heart. She is the biggest change that has come to Gwyndonmere, and yet she has done nothing but do her duty. She does that excellently. Her manners are so genuine and unaffected that she is well-liked, even by the other females on staff. And I miss her company if she were gone. But these are thoughts that must never pass my lips, so they cannot be what has precipitated these terrible crimes.
Unless this is God’s way of punishing me for lusting after a young woman when I am a married man?
Jonathan shook his head at the sophistry of that last thought.God would not punish others for my misdeeds, nay for my thoughts, on which I have not acted.
No, this thing that had come to Gwyndonmere had a human agent. The question was, who?
Chapter 23
Jonathan stared down the long empty table that had so recently seated his tenants and neighbors. What was happening to his home? What had been going on that no one felt courageous enough to bring to his attention?
He poured himself a glass of the water from the pitcher that was sitting there and took a sip. It had an odd bitter flavor that lingered in the back of his mouth. Making a face, he moved to the casement window that looked out over the formal gardens and the entry to the stables.
I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve hunted with these people, helped with harvests, and celebrated the seasons. Yet they have not trusted me enough to bring me this deep sorrow. How many young women has it been? Were there some in London about which I had no idea?
Jonathan watched his wife ride into the stable yard. She wore a becoming blue habit, a tall hat with an ostrich feather that threatened to dwarf her head. She sat her horse remarkably well. It took skill to ride in a side saddle and still control the horse, especially one that was a spirited as the dapple mare Margery favored.
If Margery was back from her ride, then it was nearly time to dress for dinner. Appearances must be kept up no matter what. His father had drilled into him that the steady round of meals served, the appearance of the head of the household, and the even tenor of customary events kept the estate from coming apart at the seams. The last thing he needed to do at this time was to ravel the customary routine of servants and householders alike.
Turning away from the window, he fought off a wave of dizziness. His vision steadied and he continued on up to his chambers where he prepared for dinner. As he stood, he realized that he had forgotten to eat anything before meeting with his staff and villagers.That must be it, I am a little faint from lack of food. Although it never used to bother me.
He held to the rail as he climbed the stair to his chambers. For a miracle, Warner was waiting there with his fresh clothing laid out.
“I have put out your third best, Your Grace, since it is my understanding that you and the Duchess will be dining alone tonight.”
Jonathan nodded wearily. “Yes. Our guests have all gone home, and I have no desire to entertain this night.”It does seem a pity to prepare that great dining room for just the two of us. But otherwise I would have no opportunity at all to try to persuade Margery to fulfill her duties.
It took an effort of will to stand upright while Warner fussed over his garments, but at last Jonathan was dressed and in good order.
He walked down the hall as if going to his own execution. As ill as he felt, the last thing he wished to do was to escort Margery to dinner and listen to her snipe at him. Why could she not for once, just once, say something pleasant or kind?
Expecting that was like asking water to run up hill, or a bunny to attack a wolf.
Well, he had made this bed, now he must lie in it. Isn’t that what the country folk say?
He shook his head. Fanciful. That’s what he was, just fanciful. Nothing wrong here that a good meal and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.
Now to persuade my mind to settle down so I can manage to procure both. And I’ll not get to it by dragging my heels on the way to dinner. I have managed through nearly ten years of these dinners. One more is not going to break me. Just one more foot right after the other. Left, right, left, right…yes, fanciful and not very coordinated.
