Chapter 10
PUZZLE PIECES
“Thank you, Daniel. What you witnessed was much like I expected. Sir James and I are appreciative of your efforts,” Cecilia said when Daniel returned from his task.
“I should be happy to assist at any time in your inquiries,” the footman said formally with the appropriate amount of reserve Mr. Coggins would approve; however, his eyes gave away his eagerness.
Cecilia laughed. “You have been bitten by the inquiry bug. I’ll own it can be invigorating. But dangerous as well,” she warned him.
“Have you ever been in danger, my lady?” Daniel asked.
“Several times, much to Sir James’ dismay,” she answered wryly.
Daniel’s eyes widened. “I should imagine so, my lady… Will you be wanting your tea now, or do you wish to wait for Sir James?”
“I’ll wait for Sir James,” she said. “I can use the time to catch up on the news from London,” she told him as she picked up one of the newspapers she’d brought to the sofa.
The cat jumped up on her lap, crushing the newspaper under him. “Well, I will catch up when Randy allows me to,” she owned, scratching the cat’s head.
After leaving the Sheep’s Head Tavern, James went to the church to see how Mr. McCurdy was progressing with the repairs to the pulpit. To his initial dismay, the entire platform had been dismantled, with the decorative wood neatly stacked to the side.
“Do you judge this repair task to be completed by Sunday?” he asked his carpenter as he studied the mess of new and old lumber.
“Och, aye, Sir James,” Mr. McCurdy said jovially. “The worst is done past. Evrathing’s measured and cut. I’ll be rebuildin’ the platform today and stainin’ it tommorra.”
“Any other trouble with people coming to gossip about Mrs. Jones?”
“Aye, sar, but that Mrs. Hull, she be a feisty one and beat me to sending them on their way. And she sent them off with a flea in their ear, too.”
James laughed, then became serious. “So long as we can ease the vicar’s burden and not let others malign Mrs. Jones. One of his daughters has arrived in Mertonhaugh. Has she come to visit the vicar?”
Mr. McCurdy shook his head. “No, sar, and I knows Mrs. Hull is getting’ down right irritated at that. I wouldna put it past ’er to march right up to the big house and drag the gel to the vicarage.”
“Neither would I. I’ll speak with her.”
Mr. McCurdy nodded and bent to pick up a new board to fasten to the platform structure. James turned to go to the vicarage.
He discovered Mrs. Hull in the herb garden, talking to the weeds she pulled out. She told them, quite in stern tones, that this garden was not the place for them to be growing. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Hull,” James said gently so as not to frighten the woman.
“Oh! Sir James. You caught me weeding Mrs. Jones’ herb garden,” she said on straightening.
“And telling the weeds the garden is not a place for them to be growing.”
She laughed. “Well, yes,” she said brightly, not offering any apology or explanation. She instead winked at James.
“Mr. McCurdy tells me you are not happy with Miss Jones for not visiting her father and staying at the Mortlake Manor.”
Her lips compressed. “That be true. What an unnatural child. He raised her, wiped her tears, built a swing on the old oak in the far corner of the church grounds, played games with her and her sister. He was a good father to her and Faith. Then, when they found out their real father is an earl, they abandoned him. I understood when they first found out, that I did. Mrs. Jones and I discussed it. They were angry at her and spread their anger to the vicar when all he ever did was love them like they were his own. But it’s been neigh on three years!
” the woman said, her ire rising. “I’ve a mind to go tell them what I think of them. ”
“I can understand your desire to do so. All I ask is that you don’t and let Lady Branstoke and me handle this. I feel we can get them to see the error of their ways.”
She looked at him steadily for a moment, frowning, then she reluctantly nodded. “I will, at least until Mrs. Jones be laid to rest.”
“That will be time enough, and if they are still angry at the vicar, they shall be deserving of your wrath,” James told her. He thanked her for her promise and left the church property. It was teatime and playtime with his young son, something he didn’t care to miss.
Cecilia allowed James to relax and dawdle Hugh on his knee before her patience expired. “You went to the brewery this morning.”
“Yes,” her husband said as he raised his son above his head. Hugh giggled.
“Well, did you learn anything?”
“Yes. The making of beer and ale is quite fascinating. I learned that here in Kent, they don’t make beer during the summer, as the weather is too warm for the beer to cool quickly,” he told her.
“James!” she admonished. She set her teacup back on the table with a rattle of china.
Hugh spat up, the milky substance landing on James’ jacket.
Cecilia quickly grabbed Hugh from James so he might wipe up the mess. “Serves you right for swinging him above your head as you did so soon after he’s eaten. Your valet will be irritable.”
“No, he won’t. He is conversant with the behavior of babies from his mother’s household. He likes them,” he said as he casually wiped away the spittle from his jacket.
“Liking is not the same as removing baby stains from clothing,” observed Cecilia.
James canted his head a moment, then acknowledged her comment as he looked at the stain on his jacket.
“I believe that was Hugh’s way of helping me grab the reins and drive you to the topic we should be discussing. Miss Inglewood, Mrs. Jones, and pennyroyal. –Daniel, ask Mrs. Threadmont to retrieve Master Hugh. He requires a change of clothing.”
“At once, my lady,” said their attentive footman.
After Hugh had been placed in the devoted care of Mrs. Threadmont, Cecilia refreshed their tea and looked expectantly at her husband.
“Mr. Vernon talked to me directly. He did not glance away or otherwise subtly indicate he was not truth-telling. He did enjoy her company until it became clear to him that her charms were well shared. I believe that caused him to retreat from that relationship, though the young woman continued to send him notes and entreaties.”
“I’m sure she didn’t believe that any man could be immune to her charms and wiles for long,” Cecilia said. “She thought quite highly of herself.”
James agreed. “He did say something about Squire Inglewood that was interesting. At one time our magistrate arrested Mr. Vernon as a libertine and threw him into his gaol. He also seems to have spread a rumor that Mr. Vernon suffers from a sexual affliction.”
“What!” Cecilia declared. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. I can conjecture that he wanted to demean Mortlake and the Mortlake Brewery. Possibly revenge for Kendell not showing interest in marrying his daughter, even before she claimed she was enceinte.”
“He wanted a title for his daughter.”
“That is my thought. However, Mortlake and Dr. Patterson visited the magistrate and immediately after, Mr. Vernon was freed and the gossip recanted.”
“Interesting,” Cecilia said. “I wonder what was said—or threatened—to achieve that.”
James shrugged.
“I’m sure our housekeeper will be pleased to know her nephew was not one of Miss Inglewood’s crowd.”
“Speaking of her crowd, I did learn where the gamekeeper’s cottage is from Mr. Vernon.”
“Excellent! I’d like to visit it tomorrow,” Cecilia said.
“If you are hoping to find any evidence there, her family and her friends most likely searched the cottage after her death,” James cautioned.
Cecilia nodded, a wayward curl of her white-blonde hair falling out of her coif. “Yes, but sometimes familiarity with a space reduces thoughts of possibilities.”
James agreed as he reached over to push the wayward strand away from her face. She smiled lovingly at him.
He took another sip of tea and set his cup down. “After the brewery, I went to The Sheep’s Head Tavern. The owners are an interesting couple. Owning the tavern, they hear about everything going on in town.”
“I well believe that.”
“I asked them about George Inglewood, Miss Inglewood’s brother.”
“Isn’t he older than Miss Inglewood? Odd that Inglewood would name siblings who were not twins with similar names.”
“Squire Inglewood is an odd man. I am of the impression that he is not a loving father. Young George Inglewood is sailing mad and spends most of his time away from home in Folkestone with Captain Horsley, learning all about sailing. He probably went with the captain to fetch Miss Faith Jones. That reminds me, Miss Hope Jones has arrived at Mortlake House, but she has not visited the vicar. And Kendell told me she is engaged to be married, which has him twisted in a knot because that is all she talks of with his parents.”
“You were busy collecting bits and pieces,” Cecilia said, delighted.
“This is an investigation that requires bits and pieces versus the broad actions we’ve been accustomed to.”
“Like one of Spilbury’s map puzzles.”
“One for which we’re missing pieces,” he said with his usual laconic dryness.
Cecilia laughed. “Yes, but we will collect them all, I’m sure of it.”
“To that end, I shall have Romley spend more time at the tavern and in town to see if he can catch wind of when young Mr. Inglewood returns.”
“I could do that for you, sir!” Daniel offered from the side of the room.
James’ brow furrowed as he looked in the direction of the footman.
Cecilia laughed. She laid her hand on her husband’s arm. “He did a bit of investigating for me this afternoon and found he quite liked it,” she said quietly.
James looked back at Cecilia. “What did he do?”