Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [59]
‘I’m sorry. Did I startle you?’
I tried to compose myself and answer him in the same light tone.
‘Not in the least. I suppose he had some good qualities.’
‘Not that I’ve heard of.’
The irreverence for the family surprised me, until I remembered that they weren’t his ancestors. He strolled on to the next tomb and in politeness I had to follow him.
‘The carving on this one is thought to be quite fine, if you have a taste for cherubim.’
To anyone watching – and I was quite sure that some of the servants would be watching – the son of the house was simply being polite and showing some of the family history to the new governess. I knew there was more to it than that.
‘I am glad that you’re here, Miss Lock. My sister needs a friend.’
He said it simply in a quiet voice, unlike his bantering tone when he’d been talking about the tombs. I glanced up at him.
‘I’m sure Miss Mandeville has many friends.’
‘Not as many as you might think. She leads a very quiet life here and we don’t visit much in the neighbourhood, owing to my mother’s health.’
‘If there’s anything I can do to help Miss Mandeville, naturally I will, but …’
‘There’ve been other governesses, of course, but they wouldn’t quite do. You seem to be around the same age as she is, if you’ll permit me to be personal, and I think she’s taken a liking to you already.’
‘Has she said so?’
From the lift of his eyebrow I could see he hadn’t expected a direct question, but I wanted very much to know if they’d talked about me.
‘She doesn’t have to say it. I can read my sister like a book. So, you’ll be a friend to her?’
‘If I can, of course I will.’
‘Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and join them.’
He smiled, gave a little nod and strode away.
I walked back across the park with Betty and her friend Sally, a cheerful and plump woman with flour from all that bread-making so deeply engrained in the creases of her knuckles that it had even survived a Sunday-best scrubbing. Naturally they wanted to know what Mr Stephen had been saying to me. Talking about the tombs, I said. Betty seemed worried.
‘I don’t blame you, Miss Lock, but he should be more careful.’
‘Careful of what?’
‘The governess and the son. It’s not my place to say it, but people do talk so.’
‘I assure you, it was nothing like that.’
I felt myself blushing and was on the verge of defending myself by telling them about his concern for his sister. Betty looked hurt by my sharpness and for some time the three of us walked in silence. I broke it by going back to the talk I’d overheard.
‘There’s to be a ball then?’
‘Two weeks on,’ Sally said. ‘A hundred people invited and a dinner the day before.’
I have reason to believe they will be holding a reception or a ball in the next few weeks … So Blackstone had been right. But how did he know and what in the world did it matter to him? He did not seem the kind of man to take a close interest in the social calendar.
‘Is it to celebrate anything in particular?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Don’t worry, Miss Lock,’ Betty said. ‘We shan’t have much to do with it, except keeping the children looking nice when they’re wanted.’
‘Her ladyship looks worn out with worry about it already,’ Sally said.
Betty gave her a look that said some things should not be discussed in front of new arrivals and turned the conversation to a bodice she was trimming for Sally. The rest of our walk back was taken up with details of cotton lace, tucks and smocking, leaving me with plenty of time to wonder why Miss Mandeville should be so much in need of a friend.
On Monday afternoon, Mrs Quivering intercepted me as I was bringing Henrietta and James in from the garden.
‘Miss Lock, a word with you.’
She beckoned a maid to see the children back upstairs and led me into her office.
‘A letter has arrived for you, Miss Lock.’
My heart leapt. The only person to whom I’d given my address was Daniel Suter.
‘Oh, excellent.’
I held out my hand, expecting to be given the letter, and