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Authors: Janet Laurence

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BOOK: Deadly Inheritance
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Ursula wanted to question Mrs Parsons about Polly’s ‘disruptive influence’. But Belle rushed in.

‘Dearest Ursula, what happened? Are you very injured? Was it so awful? We have only just returned from our visiting – and to hear such a terrible tale. Oh, please tell me you are all right.’ She sat herself down on the bed and passionately embraced Ursula, who had difficulty in preventing her soup bowl from ending on the floor.

Mrs Parsons took it from her and picked up her tray. ‘I’ll leave you now, Miss Grandison. If there is anything else you require, please ask Miss Seldon to send me a message. And, Miss Seldon, luncheon will be served very shortly.’

‘Thank you,’ Ursula said, stroking Belle’s shoulders; the girl seemed really distressed. ‘You have been very kind and I am sure I have everything I need.’

The housekeeper sailed out of the room.

Belle buried her head in Ursula’s shoulder and burst into tears.

‘Come, come, dear. I am fine, merely a sprained ankle that will soon heal. Finding the remains of that poor girl was very unsettling but I have experienced worse things.’ Ursula was not sure she had but her task at the moment was to calm Belle. ‘Now, tell me about your visits.’

Belle released herself. ‘I must be careful not to hurt your poor ankle. Is it aching very much?’ She looked at the bandaged foot, which had the bedclothes neatly folded back from it so that the ice pack, a collection of ice chunks in a calico bag, did not make them wet.

‘Not nearly as much as it did.’ This was true. Having it raised up, together with the anaesthetising effect of the ice had reduced the angry throbbing to a dull ache. She sat back and attempted to coax Belle into better spirits. ‘Who did you meet?’

‘Oh, they were all boring, boring, boring.’

Ursula waited.

‘Helen got me in that room she calls her boudoir,’ Belle sounded so scornful, Ursula could not help smiling. ‘She lectured me for at least half an hour on how disgracefully I had behaved last night. I nearly told her she did not own William, that is, Mr Warburton.’

‘It was foolish of you to disappear into the garden like that with him,’ Ursula said gently. ‘You must have known it was wrong.’

‘Oh, don’t you start! I am so tired of being told what I should not do and what I should do. Ursula, if I had had any idea of what it would be like, I should not have pestered Papa to send me over.’

‘You will soon find your way around. Did you not like anyone you met? How many houses did you visit?’

‘Only two – and no young men at either of them. First we went to Lord and Lady Anstruther. They live in a darling old house with low ceilings and lots of porcelain everywhere and two sweet little Pekingese dogs. I was allowed to have one on my lap. Lord Anstruther was awful. He was like a dried bean pod, tall and thin and wrinkled. All he said was “hello” and would we mind awfully but he had some business to see to on the estate.’ Belle aped an English accent and giggled. ‘After he left, Lady Anstruther said what a pretty girl I was and how Anthony, her son, would have liked to meet me but he was on the Continent somewhere, and how she wished her daughter was with her but she had gone to stay with a friend in Scotland. So Helen had dragged me over there for nothing.’

‘Not for nothing, Belle. Now Lady Anstruther has met you, she will send an invitation as soon as her son and daughter return. Where did you go next?’

‘That was even worse! We went to see the mother of the man who was with you when you dragged William and me out of the shrubbery.’

‘That must have been Mrs Russell.’ Ursula felt a rush of warmth as she recalled how friendly and amusing Max Russell had been at dinner.

‘Lady Frances Russell,’ Belle said with a note of triumph. ‘Helen explained that daughters of an Earl are always called Lady, even when they are married to men with no title. But the sons, apart from the eldest, are only “The Honourable”, not lords. I don’t think that’s fair, do you? Helen said Lady Frances was married to a vicar, the Very Reverend George Russell.’ Belle giggled again. ‘How would you address them if they were both together?’

‘The Very Revered George and Lady Frances Russell,’ Ursula said, remembering the lessons in etiquette she and Helen had suffered at their Paris finishing school.

‘Oh, my, such a mouthful! Anyway, I did not really want to see Mr Russell again, he looked at me in such a way last night and was very unpleasant to William, but when we arrived, he wasn’t there. And Helen was told Lady Frances was too ill to come downstairs but would she please go and visit with her in her bedroom.’

Belle pouted. ‘So I was left in the drawing room to look at some boring old books. There wasn’t even a dog to play with. There was a piano but I didn’t like to try it in case it disturbed Lady Frances.’

‘That was thoughtful of you.’

‘And, anyway, it was locked.’

‘Was Helen upstairs very long?’

Belle sighed heavily. ‘It seemed forever. The house is very small with a very small garden. I should be quite ashamed to live in a place like that, but there were some pretty pictures and I found a box that had lots of little boxes inside it. Just as I was trying to open the smallest – I knew it must open because something inside it rattled – Mr Russell came in.’

‘And how was he?’

‘Much friendlier than I expected,’ Belle confessed. ‘And he showed me how to slide open one side of the box in a most ingenious way. And what do you think was inside?’

‘I cannot imagine,’ Ursula laughed, but she found herself curious.

‘A ring! I don’t think it was valuable but it was very pretty; little pearls set in enamel so it looked like a flower. I asked whose it was and Mr Russell said it was his mama’s. I wanted to ask why she did not wear it but Helen came downstairs then and spoke to me quite sharply. She said I should not have been messing about with things that did not belong to me. And Mr Russell said he had been showing me the secret box and it was not my fault. Even though, I suppose, it was,’ Belle added. ‘But it was not fair to leave me alone for so long.’ She thought for a moment then added, ‘Helen and Mr Russell did not seem at all easy with each other. But I think it was because of Lady Frances being ill. Helen said she was shocked at her condition and Mr Russell said he did not think it would be very long now. I asked Helen when we drove away what he meant and she said Lady Frances was nearing the end of her life. That is sad isn’t it?’

Ursula agreed.

‘And she asked Mr Russell if he still meant to do what he’d said, and he said “yes”. What do you think that meant? And why do you think Lady Frances would keep a ring in a secret box? I asked Helen but she said she didn’t know, in quite a nasty way. All she wanted to talk about on the way home was Richard’s brother, Charles, who is a Colonel in the army and has been fighting in the South African war. She said that the war finished last year and he was to arrive today or tomorrow and that I would like him very much. He was very brave, she said, very handsome and very interesting. It was just as though she was a salesman trying to get me to buy a horse!

‘And then we get back here and this Charles has arrived and I don’t find him at all attractive.’ Belle gave a disappointed pout and smoothed down her tussore silk jacket over its matching skirt. ‘He’s not nearly as tall as William – or Richard – and all he said to me was that he hoped I was enjoying my stay.’

Oh, dear Belle, thought Ursula. ‘I expect he had to tell Helen about the tragedy that I discovered.’

‘He did. And it sounded something awful. So I had to come and see how you were. Are you really all right? I would hate for you to be badly injured.’

‘I had a shock and sprained my ankle, that is all. I will be downstairs again this evening. Look, they have found me some crutches.’ Ursula pointed to them. ‘You had better go and wash your hands before luncheon. Will Mr Warburton be there?’ The ploy worked.

‘Yes! He was in the drawing room with Richard and the Colonel when we got back. They all seemed to think finding that dead girl was very serious.’

‘I think it is, Belle. There will be a lot of formalities, including with the police.’

‘Do you think it will be in the newspapers?’

‘I certainly hope not.’

After Belle had left, Ursula pondered that question. She was sure Richard and his mother would be very keen not to have any publicity over the death of their nursery maid. If, indeed, the corpse was that of their maid.

* * *

Ursula awoke a couple of hours later feeling greatly refreshed. So much so that she rose and dressed. She longed to have a bath but to ask a servant to bring one upstairs and then to carry up the hot water seemed too much of an imposition, so she made do with a thorough wash, balancing herself on one leg. The bruising on her body was now so shocking, Ursula found it almost comical. At least it could be decently concealed.

Dressed, she consulted her watch: four o’clock. Mrs Comfort would take young Harry down to tea and then return to the nursery.

Ursula gave her ten minutes then walked along the corridor, learning to manage the wooden crutches.

Mrs Comfort arrived at the door of the nursery at the same time as she did.

‘Why, Miss Grandison, you are up – how do you feel?’

Ursula decided she would have to get used to that question. ‘The ankle is a bother but apart from that I am fine, thank you, Mrs Comfort.’ She hesitated for a moment then said, ‘This morning was a terrible shock and the idea that the dead woman could have been your nursemaid I find very troubling. I wonder – would you be willing to talk to me about her?’

‘Oh, my dearie, there is so much I would like to say about poor Polly. Come in and share my tea.’

The nursery was a large room with a shabby charm. It was evident it had done duty for several generations of children. A large table in the centre of the room had sturdy chairs around it. Painting utensils and sketching paper were in use and Ursula glimpsed colourful attempts at wild beasts in a jungle. Two comfortable chairs stood either side of an iron fireplace. A fire ready for lighting was in the grate. On the floor in one corner stood a large castle complete with brightly painted lead knights in arms. Beside it was a dappled-grey rocking horse with red, snorting nostrils, a long white mane and tail, and a tattered saddle. On a side table stood what looked like several regiments of lead soldiers, some dressed in khaki, others in more colourful uniforms. Mrs Comfort saw Ursula looking at the display.

‘Them brown ones were sent to Harry by his uncle, Colonel Charles. Most of the others belonged to his lordship and his brother when they were young.’

‘Were you the nanny then, Mrs Comfort? Not that you look old enough,’ Ursula added hastily.

‘Bless you, I was here. Nursery maid first and then when Nanny Porter retired I took over. After the young sons went away to school, I was put in charge of the linen; watched both of them grow into such handsome men. When his lordship chose a wife, we were all so thrilled. And when the waiting was over and we knew her ladyship was in an interesting condition, well, what a thing it was to be sure; bringing this nursery back into service! Maybe soon there’ll be another little treasure. But, there, Lord Harry is everything we could desire, even if he does get a bit too lively at times. He’s hoping Mr Charles, I mean the Colonel, will demonstrate his battles with the Boer for him.’

‘Harry’s not too young for games of war, then?’

‘Bless you, it’s born in them, that’s what I think.’ Mrs Comfort took a box of matches from the top of the mantelshelf and lit the fire. It blazed up instantly.

A knock on the door preceded James, one of the footmen who had carried Ursula upstairs. All of the Mountstanton footmen seemed to be tall and handsome. He brought in a tray of tea complete with sandwiches and cake.

‘Thank you, James. I’m glad to see Chef hasn’t given me short commons. I’ve got a guest today, Miss Grandison is joining me.’

‘Glad to see it, Mrs Comfort.’ The young man put the tray on the table and left.

The nanny went over to a cupboard and retrieved a second cup, saucer and plate.

‘Now, you sit there and I’ll be mother.’

Ursula limped over to one of the chairs by the fire. She was soon supplied with tea and fish paste sandwiches.

Mrs Comfort brought her own cup and sat opposite, settling down into the chair with a sigh. ‘It was a real shock, being shown that piece of dress this morning.’

‘I’m sorry but it seemed as if the chances were that you would know what your nursemaid wore. Didn’t you say that she left without notice?’

Mrs Comfort picked up a sandwich and ate thoughtfully. ‘I held it was a joke, the way she left I mean. “Don’t expect me back,” she said, and laughed. She was to go over to the village, see. I thought it was to meet a young man. She was always joking; always laughing with Lord Harry and me.’ Mrs Comfort flicked tears away. ‘I expected her back in time for supper, no matter what she said.’

‘If she meant to leave, wouldn’t she have taken her things?’ asked Ursula.

‘She had a box with her, a round cardboard thing, once held a hat I reckoned. When she didn’t come back and no one had seen her, I looked in the bedroom she shared with Lord Harry. Nothing of hers in there at all – apart from her uniform. But, then, poor thing, she didn’t have much. She’d have been wearing most of what she owned.’

Ursula had a sudden vision of Belle’s trunks crammed with delightful outfits. Even the contents of her own would have seemed a wardrobe fit for a princess to one such as Polly. She smoothed the linen skirt she was wearing and tried to forget the times when, like Polly, most of what she owned was on her back.

‘Came to us from an orphanage, she did; no family,’ Mrs Comfort continued.

‘If she really was leaving, where would she be going?’

‘Well, now, that’s what got me, Miss Grandison. Wasn’t as if she received any mail, Mr Benson would have known. Wasn’t as if she had any callers, Mrs Parsons would know.’

Ursula had a sudden sense of a household where, despite its huge size, there must be something approaching thirty indoor staff; nothing went unnoticed. Her ankle started to ache and she moved it uneasily.

BOOK: Deadly Inheritance
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