Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [105]
‘Where is he now?’
Daniel gestured to the pavilion behind us.
‘Here. Asleep in my bed, as a matter of fact.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I felt myself going hard as stone. I pulled my hand away from Daniel.
‘What is he doing here?’
‘One of my musicians – another friend of his – saw him fall. We couldn’t leave him to the tender mercies of the household. All they were concerned about was that he shouldn’t get in the way of the other waiters.’
‘I mean here at Mandeville Hall.’
Daniel looked surprised at my tone.
‘I haven’t had a chance to ask him yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s a very sick man, Liberty. He was hardly conscious when we brought him in here last night, certainly not in a state for conversation.’
‘Probably not, seeing as he’d just bludgeoned a poor old lady to death.’
‘Child, you can’t …’
‘Don’t child me. She needed to tell me something, that was why she wanted to meet in the schoolroom. If she’d discovered Blackstone was here disguised as a waiter –’
‘Did she even know the man?’
‘To the best of my knowledge, no. But what if she’d found out he wasn’t a proper waiter, and begun to ask what he was doing here …’
‘That’s mere supposition.’
‘You’re not claiming that he was here simply as a waiter, I hope?’
‘I’m not claiming anything.’ Daniel was beginning to be annoyed now. ‘And no, I don’t suppose he was simply acting as a waiter.’
‘Then what was he doing here?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You should know. He’s a friend of yours.’
‘Liberty, when he wakes up, of course I’ll ask him, provided he’s strong enough.’
‘He was strong enough to kill Mrs Beedle. He was strong enough to kill my father.’
I stood up. He tried to take my hand again, but I pulled it away.
‘Liberty, please. You can’t know –’
‘I know he was in Calais when my father was killed. Now he’s here and she’s dead too. What more do you need?’
‘Quite a lot more, if I’m to think him guilty of two murders.’
‘Of course, he’s more than a friend, isn’t he? What was it you said? A lodge brother.’
‘I promise you that if even half of what you suspect is true, that won’t protect him. If I find cause to believe he killed your father or that poor old woman, I shall hand him over to the hangman with pleasure.’
‘Well, let’s go in there now, wake him up and ask him.’
I made for the door of the pavilion. Daniel jumped up and stood in front of me.
‘Later, I promise you …’
‘I’m tired of promises. He made me promises when he wanted me to spy for him, and look what …’
It came to me that I might be partly to blame for Mrs Beedle’s death, if my reports had brought Blackstone there, and my voice choked with tears. I was too angry with Daniel to let him see that, so I turned away and walked quickly down the spiral path and back across the park.
By the time I reached the house, I’d recovered myself enough to face Betty and the children. The schoolroom was still being cleaned, so they’d been allocated a sitting room at the far end of the nursery corridor that might once have been the territory of a minor relative. Hasty efforts to tidy it had only stirred up the smell of old dust, and the chairs and sofa were sagging and faded. The two boys were at the table, listlessly spooning up bread and milk, with broad black bands round the sleeves of their jackets. Henrietta was sobbing on the sofa in bodice and petticoats, while Betty sat in an armchair, hurriedly stitching away at a small black crepe dress. I supposed it had been saved from some earlier generation’s mourning and she was altering it to fit. Betty’s eyes were red, her cheeks swollen with crying. I knelt on the floor beside her, threaded a needle and started on the dress hem. My stitches were large and uneven, but it didn’t seem to matter. I could see Betty wanted to talk, but we couldn’t in front of the children and they needed all our attention.
Once breakfast was over and Henrietta fitted into her dress they had to be taken to pay their last respects to their grandmother.