The Mysteries of Pendowar Hall (The Audacious Sisterhood of Smoke & Fire #1)

Chapter Twelve

A s Diana and Miss Fallbrook made their way back to Pendowar Hall, Diana’s mind whirred as if in tempo with the breeze fluttering the tall grass and cow parsley at the lane’s edge.

She was not surprised by Mrs. Trenowden’s account of Captain Fallbrook’s popularity with women. She was intrigued, however, by the farmwife’s anecdotes about the captain’s nature. To learn that he had been so generous with his uncle’s tenants ever since he’d been a boy was a real tribute to his character.

On the other hand, here was yet another report about the popularity—or rather, the unpopularity —of the former baronet. The only people who seemed to have a high opinion of him were Mrs. Gwynn and Mr. Emity. What was it the postmistress had said about Sir Thomas?

“He was a changed man the past few years. They say he grew harsh and mean. Rent had to be paid in full and on time, or there’d be hell to pay. Between you and me, there’s some as say they aren’t sorry he’s gone.”

Was it just a coincidence, Diana wondered, that Mr. Trenowden had had an altercation with Sir Thomas just before the baronet’s death?

“Got so bad, I feared they’d come to blows.”

What had they been arguing about? The farmer clearly resented that his family had worked Greenview Farm for centuries but didn’t own it. Could that grudge against the Fallbrook family have been a motive for Mr. Trenowden to commit a heinous act? If so, did Mrs. Trenowden know about it? Could that have been the reason behind the odd look in her eyes at the end of their conversation just now?

“Mrs. Barton has some pretty seashells.” Miss Fallbrook’s remark drew Diana from her thoughts.

“She does, indeed.”

“And Mrs. Trenowden is nice.”

“I like her, too. Did you enjoy playing with her children?”

“I am far too old to play ,” Miss Fallbrook insisted, “but it was… diverting.”

Diana’s lips twitched. Miss Fallbrook had clearly enjoyed that game of tag. But if she wanted to make less of the experience, it was perfectly all right. Their visits today had done her good.

“Their elder brother is called Harry,” Miss Fallbrook went on tentatively. Her cheeks grew rosy and she ducked her chin, avoiding Diana’s gaze.

Diana suspected that her pupil was sweet on the boy. “He looks like a hard-working lad.”

“A hard-working lad who paid me no notice.” Miss Fallbrook sighed. “Not that it matters. Papa said I must never speak to a farm boy.”

Diana understood why. There would be social harm for a young lady of Miss Fallbrook’s standing to associate too closely with a farmer’s son. And yet, her response to him was very natural for a young lady of her age, even though nothing could come of it. Diana chose her words carefully, not wishing to discourage her charge from making new acquaintances. “There’d be no harm in speaking to him with a chaperone present. I’d be happy to accompany you if you wish to visit Greenview Farm again. Harry Trenowden might make a good friend.”

Miss Fallbrook eyed Diana as if she’d just said that Harry Trenowden might fly to the moon. “Boys can’t be friends . They can only be beaux .”

“That’s not true. Anyway, you are too young to be thinking about beaux.”

“I am not. My thirteenth governess, Miss Potter, said her sister married at fifteen and was very happy.”

“I am happy for her. But, Miss Fallbrook, you won’t even put your hair up for another three years. Most girls do not come out until eighteen.”

“Eighteen seems such a long time to wait! Did you come out at eighteen?”

“I did.”

“Have you ever had a beau?”

Diana hesitated. It was not a subject she cared to discuss—yet neither did she wish to lie. “Yes. Two beaux, in fact.”

“Two?” Miss Fallbrook clasped her hands together. “When? What happened?”

“One question at a time.” Diana laughed to cover her anxiety. The recollections were like stabs to the heart. “I met my first beau at my coming out ball.”

“You had your own coming out ball?”

“I did.”

“But—I thought governesses were too poor to have their own balls.”

“I wasn’t always poor. My father was a gentleman, and when I was young, we were well-to-do.”

“Oh.”

“A young man who was visiting from Cheshire attended my ball at the last minute. His name was Mr. Graham. He was the second son from a prominent family. We were only allowed to dance together twice—that is the rule for what is seemly—but he asked me to dance five times.”

“Five times!” Miss Fallbrook’s mouth fell open. “What did you do?”

“I said yes. ”

“All five times?”

“All five times.”

Her pupil giggled. “How shocking!”

“I know.”

“Was Mr. Graham a good dancer?”

“He was.”

“Was he handsome?”

“Very.”

“Did he propose?”

“After asking me to dance five times, I should think so.”

A gasp escaped Miss Fallbrook’s throat. “Are you saying that he made you an offer the same night you met ?”

“No, of course not. But he came to call the very next day, and every day thereafter for a fortnight, and then he proposed.”

“After only two weeks!” Miss Fallbrook’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me about the proposal. Where did it happen? And how?”

Diana smiled grimly at her charge’s enthusiasm, recalling her own sense of excitement at the time, and how quickly things had changed.

“Mr. Graham came to our house with a bouquet of pink roses. He asked my father for my hand. Papa was impressed with the young man and his family connections, and he wanted me to be happy. So he gave his permission and then left us alone together in the parlor.”

“Did your suitor go down on one knee?”

“He did.”

Miss Fallbrook let out a long sigh. “That is so romantic!”

“I thought so too at the time.” It was Diana’s turn to sigh. “I thought we were madly in love.”

Her pupil’s smile faded, as if suddenly recalling that this story didn’t have a happy ending. “But you weren’t?”

“I have learned since that true and lasting affection, and the admiration that is required to sustain it, takes longer than a fortnight to develop. I didn’t know that then.” Her godmother had written and cautioned her to take things slowly, but Diana hadn’t listened. She had already made her choice. “And I didn’t know that his regard for me was not founded on affection at all, but on something else.”

“On what?”

“My money.”

“Oh!” Miss Fallbrook’s steps seemed to become slower and heavier as they strode along. “How did you find out?”

“In the worst of all possible ways. We had set a wedding date, and I had ordered my wedding gown and trousseau from the dressmaker, when my father lost most of his fortune in a single night at the gaming tables.”

“Oh, no!”

“Upon discovering that my dowry was gone, my betrothed vanished as well.”

Miss Fallbrook’s face fell. “Did you ever hear from him again?”

“Not a word. I later learned that he had married a woman with ten thousand pounds. He was a second son, after all. He would never inherit, so he had to marry money.” Even so, the betrayal still smarted after all these years, making Diana feel… less . Less desirable. Less worthy of love. Less deserving of respect.

“I’m so sorry,” Miss Fallbrook whispered. They walked on in silence for a while. “What about your second beau, Miss Taylor?”

Diana stiffened. All at once, she was back in that moonlit garden as if under a spell, listening to promises that had held no more weight than air. The memory jabbed like a blade. “I should prefer not to talk about him.”

Miss Fallbrook struggled to hide her disappointment. “All right. But wait. What happened after your father lost his fortune?”

“I went to work as a governess, which I’ve done ever since. Well, I took the past year off after my father passed away. But I need employment. And I discovered that idleness doesn’t suit me.”

“So, when my aunt Eliza told you that I needed a new governess…”

“I applied for the position straight away.” One day, if her quest went well, Diana would tell her pupil her other reason for coming to Pendowar Hall. But not yet.

Miss Fallbrook glanced up at her and said quietly, “I am glad you came.”

Diana clasped her charge’s hand in hers and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “So am I.”

*

The clock struck twelve. Diana brushed her long, dark curls and plaited them, looking back on the day with satisfaction.

Her relationship with Miss Fallbrook seemed to be entering a new phase. Today, a sweetness had emerged, and in their conversation, she felt they had formed a kind of bond. Doing good for others, Diana believed, had done Miss Fallbrook good. She had learned a bit about human nature. And the experience had, for the moment, taken her mind off her frustrations in the schoolroom.

Those frustrations still preyed on Diana’s mind, however. They had gone over the entire alphabet twice now, but what her pupil seemed to have learned one day was undone the next. Sometimes, Miss Fallbrook saw letters in words in a different order than everyone else did. Why? And what could be done about it?

Diana was about to climb into bed when she paused.

It had become a practice, ever since she discovered that set of keys in Sir Thomas’s bedchamber, to peek out her window every night just before she retired. She had never seen the light in the north tower window again and had begun to think she had just imagined it. Why on Earth would someone have been up there, anyway? It was all silly nonsense.

And yet, compulsion propelled her to rise and part the curtains slightly. A full moon bathed the grounds in its silvery glow. She glanced at the north tower.

There it was again! A light in the uppermost window was blinking on and off.

Diana’s pulse began to race. Mrs. Gwynn and the captain had both warned her to stay out of the north wing. She didn’t wish to countermand a direct order by her employer or to incur the housekeeper’s wrath, but something strange was going on. Could the light be linked in any way to the footsteps she’d heard on her first night at Pendowar Hall? And could either—or both—of those incidents have had anything to do with Sir Thomas’s death? Probably not.

But Mrs. Phillips and her sisters had urged her to follow her instincts.

She had to investigate.

Captain Fallbrook generally kept to his rooms at this hour. Miss Fallbrook and the staff had long since gone to bed. Surely, Diana could visit the north wing—and if she was lucky, the tower—just this once without anyone knowing.

First, she needed those keys. And there was no time to lose. On her previous attempt, by the time she’d reached the north tower, the light had gone out. Donning her dressing gown, Diana thrust her feet into her slippers, grabbed her candle, and rushed down the corridor to Sir Thomas’s bedchamber.

To her relief, the keys were exactly where she’d last seen them. Diana grabbed the keyring in such a rush, she fumbled. They fell and hit the floor with a clatter.

Diana froze, every nerve on alert. How far would the sound carry? This is madness , she told herself. She must stay at Pendowar Hall until she discovered who murdered Sir Thomas—and could prove it. There was so much she longed to do for Miss Fallbrook, but she had barely gotten started. Was she risking everything in this one foolish endeavor? If the captain found her here, he might well give Diana her walking papers. Go back to your room. Give this up.

But all was silent. Regaining her courage, Diana pocketed the keys and hurried down the hall, protecting her candle flame with one hand as she made her way downstairs. Her pulse beat hard and thick as she navigated the north wing’s dark, twisting passageways until she reached the vestibule where the massive, oak door waited.

Diana slipped one of the iron keys into the ancient lock. It did not turn. Nor did the next. Her heart sank. Were they the wrong keys, after all?

She tried the third iron key. With a satisfying click, the tumbler turned, and the bolt slid open. Diana’s excitement mounted as she pulled the heavy door ajar.

A circular, stone staircase stood before her, similar to the one she had seen in her dream. As Diana made her way up the stone steps, a sudden chill settled over her. She hoped that whoever was behind that flashing light was still up in the tower. But was she placing herself in danger in this pursuit? Mr. Emity’s words came back to her.

“If someone did murder Sir Thomas, they might not take kindly to the idea of someone looking into it.”

Nevertheless, one foot slowly moved forward and then the other. Diana’s body seemed to be working of its own volition as it carried her up the stairs.

The flight ended at a narrow landing with another aged, oaken door. It was locked as well. Half-trembling with anticipation, Diana tried each key in succession until she found one that fit. A thrill ran through her as she felt the lock unclasp.

Was she in time? Was someone within? If so, what would she say to them? She had not thought it through, she realized. But she had come too far to stop now.

Diana opened the door.

Within, it was dark as pitch. By the light of her candle, she made out a small, furnished chamber.

Diana entered and cautiously took in her surroundings. Her spirits deflated. Whoever had been here had come and gone. Her frustration, however, was quickly replaced by curiosity and a sense of wonder.

Against the far wall stood a massive four-poster bed, its wooden headboard elaborately carved in the shape of a mermaid. The bed curtains stood half open and matched the coverlet and draperies, which, although faded and thick with dust, were fashioned of an intricately woven fabric in shades of blue, green, and gold, featuring mermaids under the sea.

Tapestries decorated the walls, depicting mermaids with long, flowing hair surrounded by sea creatures and seashells. Interspersed with these coverings were oil and watercolor paintings of mermaids. But the theme did not stop there. Art objects of mermaids in a variety of poses occupied the furniture and shelves, all coated in the same layer of dust.

Diana gaped in amazement. Who had built this chamber and why? To make certain no one was hiding in the shadows, she conducted a thorough search of the room.

She was alone.

Not for long, however. The thud of footfalls on the stairs broke the silence. Diana’s pulse hammered in her chest. Had Mrs. Gwynn come to lecture her again? Would she be very angry? It was not the housekeeper who burst into the room, however.

It was the captain.