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Murder at Mansfield Park - Lynn Shepherd [53]

By Root 643 0
the following morning the wind had changed, the clouds were carried off, and the sun appeared. Mary had never been so eager to be out of doors, and walked to the village before breakfast to fetch the letters, a task usually assigned to the groom. She was disappointed in her hopes of a line or two from Henry, but consoled herself with the prospect of a day in the sunshine and fresh air, and offered to assist Mrs Grant in cutting what remained of the roses. The two ladies spent the morning in calm, sisterly companionship, and were just beginning to think with pleasure of luncheon and a glass of limonade, when they were startled by shouts and cries of alarm from the other side of the hedge. They hastened to the gate, to find one of the workmen, with a dozen others at his heels, and in his arms, the apparently lifeless body of Julia Bertram. Her clothes were clinging to her thin frame, her lips were blue, and her eyes closed; she did not even seem to breathe.

‘She was like this when we found her,’ the man stammered, his face white and terrified. ‘We didn’t know what else to do, but bring her here.’

‘Quickly!’ cried Mary. ‘Carry her into the house, and have the maids fetch blankets and hot tea. I fear she has been quite soaked through.’

‘You mean she b’aint dead after all?’ said the man, as he followed them inside. ‘It took us so long to free her, and all the while she neither moved nor spoke. I don’t mind telling you, we feared the worst.’

‘Bring her through here, if you would,’ said Mrs Grant briskly. ‘Lay her on the sopha—gently now! Mary, rub her temples, and send a maid to find my salts. Heaven only knows how long she has been in this state.’

Mary looked up at the man, who was standing in the doorway, twisting his hat in his hand. She had seen him before—a tall, handsome fellow, who had touched his hat to her once or twice when she had encountered him in the park.

‘Did I hear you aright—did you not say some thing about freeing her?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, miss. We saw her as soon as we got to the avenue—she’d gone and chained herself to one of those old trees. How she managed such a thing on her own, God alone knows, but I swear she weren’t there when we left the place last night.’

Mary wondered for a moment why they had not sent immediately to the Park for help, given the much greater distance to the parsonage, but she had seen the trepidation in the man’s eyes; in the face of what must have seemed to be a fatal catastrophe, he had no doubt feared that his employer would be only too ready to lay the whole blame of it at his door.

‘You have nothing to fear,’ she said quickly. ‘You have acted quite properly. But I am very much afraid that Miss Julia is extremely ill. We must dispatch a messenger for the apothecary at once, and send word to the Park. Her family will already have missed her.’ Even as she uttered the words, her heart ached for the distress the Bertrams must be in— first Fanny, and now Julia, gone from the house with no explanation. What must they be thinking?

Mrs Grant was clearly of the same mind; she went immediately to her writing-desk, and penned a short note to Lady Bertram. ‘If you will be so good as to take that to the Park,’ she said, holding it out to the workman. ‘And with all speed, if you please.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, bowing, and with a parting look at Mary, he was gone.

The apothecary was not long in arriving thereafter; it was lucky for them that he was close by, having been attending a case of pleurisy in Mansfield-common, and he was able to give his opinion on the invalid without delay.

‘I am afraid, Mrs Grant, that it is a very serious disorder,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Her strength has been much weakened, and in consequence the danger of infection is very great. I will prescribe a cordial for you to administer, and you must convey her upstairs to bed at once. On no account should she be moved unnecessarily. I will call again later today.’

‘Thank you, Mr Phillips, you may rely on us,’ said Mrs Grant. ‘I will see you to the door.’

When Mrs Grant returned to the parlour she found

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