Chapter 12 #3
“Burham next,” he said after grabbing a cloth and wiping the milk off his boots.
Tulip cast him a beautiful smile. “You’ll adore my Uncle William and Aunt Perty. Won’t he, Mr. Carver?”
“For certain,” he said with a hearty chuckle. “Your Grace, you won’t find better people than the Hesters.”
This light exchange pleased him, not only because it meant Tulip had been raised in a loving home. It also meant he could send Tulip to the Hesters if she needed to be placed out of harm’s way while he figured out what was going on at Thornwycke Hall.
Of course, this assumed something sinister was happening there.
He had no actual proof, for Tulip feeling particularly exhausted this morning could easily be explained away.
As for his bottle of brandy, would anything show up once he had it tested?
His grandfather’s journal revealed a concerning incident, but what was the secret he’d been hiding about a young woman called Elspeth? Was it not likely he’d taken that secret to his grave?
Yet, Alex had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that simply would not go away.
He silently cursed himself for being too besotted with Tulip to accept the obvious warning signs about Thornwycke Hall. Instead, he’d barreled ahead and made her his. She had even suggested they wait to be married, but this was the last thing he ever wanted.
It was selfish of him to bring her back to Somerset.
Well, they were here now and he did not think Tulip would ever accept to be sent back to London.
Nor did he wish it, for he truly liked having her in his life.
But he would have her stay with the Hesters for a few days, a week, or a month, if necessary to keep her out of the way while he caught a killer.
Tulip continued to smile at him as they rode toward Burnham, but he was glad when she turned away to gaze at the passing scenery that was so familiar to her.
He needed to think logically about all that had happened at Thornwycke Hall, and this included thinking about Tulip’s dislike of the duchess bedchamber.
She had felt too unsettled to sleep there.
In fact, she would not go near her bed.
He ought to have questioned her more thoroughly about this because Tulip had excellent instincts, perhaps even better than his own. If the sight of that bed curdled her stomach, was it possible this terrible incident his grandfather had written about so cryptically had happened there?
This was another mystery to pursue…and possibly connect to Elspeth.
He ought to have considered Tulip’s instincts sooner. It was stupid of him to dismiss her unease simply because he was glad she wanted to sleep with him in his bed.
He would question her further about it tonight, and also ask questions of the long-time household retainers. Ernfield was the head butler and had to know plenty about what went on in the past. For years, he had been standing at the front door and seen everyone who traipsed in and out.
There was also the cook, Mrs. Crabbe. And Mr. Carver. Possibly others…grooms, gardeners, household maids.
However, he set aside the thought as they reached Burnham.
Their visit to the Hesters was a friendly call for Tulip, but it was a hunt for information for him. These Hesters had grown up here and had to know something of what went on at Thornwycke Hall.
He might dig up a lot of useful information by engaging them in casual conversation.
Yes, getting them to talk first made the most sense. Their livelihoods were not linked to Thornwycke Hall, which meant he was more likely to get the truth out of them than his estate manager, Carver, or his head butler, Ernfield.
He trusted Carver as far as it came to running the Davenport properties. As for Ernfield, he was a bit enigmatic, but weren’t all head butlers trained to keep their mouths shut about what they saw?
Both men had reasons to hold something back, especially if their silence reflected badly on them.
Well, maybe the Hesters would shed sufficient light to get him started.
He smiled at Tulip as their carriage drew to a halt. “Seems we have arrived.”
She cast him a heartwarming smile. “Thank you for this, Alex.”
He merely nodded, for he refused to take credit for a kind gesture when his true purpose was to investigate.
Where to start?
There were so many lines of inquiry whirling in his head.
But he sensed that he needed to start in the past and find out more about this Elspeth hinted at in his grandfather’s journal.
She had to have been the dark secret that scared the dying, old man and later set off a chain of vengeance killings.
His grandfather wrote that she had gone missing about twenty years ago, maybe more or maybe less…the timing was not precisely written down.
Had she been held in that tower room at Thornwycke Hall?
Were there rumors of a young woman held prisoner there at the time?
Of course, he could have asked Carver or Ernfield, perhaps even Mrs. Crabbe about it.
But it was possible these long-time retainers had been involved in some way.
Not in actually harming her, but had seen something or later learned something that they kept to themselves even after the death of Alex’s grandfather.
He raked a hand through his hair in consternation.
Interrogating Carver would not be easy because Tulip adored him and trusted him.
But Alex had mixed feelings about his estate manager.
The man was obviously competent and had handled management of the Davenport estate with diligence and devotion.
He wanted to like Carver.
However, it was not a stretch to imagine Carver would keep silent about his grandfather’s misdeeds in order to preserve his position as estate manager.
Estate managers were well paid and often held in high regard.
Would Carver toss it all away to tell the truth about a girl who had gone missing two decades ago?
William Hester was the man to question first, for certain.
Better yet, Perty Hester was the one to engage in casual conversation.
Women knew everything that went on in their village.
She would remember the details of any scandals or mysteries about a young woman’s disappearance.
The Hester residence was a pleasant house built of golden stone situated on a quiet square just off the town’s high street. Ivy covered the facade of the house and there was an abundance of flowers in the garden.
Alex noticed a woman bent over a rose bush with pruning shears.
The woman turned out to be Perty Hester herself.
She dropped her shears and rushed toward the carriage the moment she spotted Tulip descend from it. “Tulip! My sweetheart! Oh, what a joy it is to see you!”
Tulip ran to her aunt and the two of them embraced with fierce delight. “I missed you so much, Aunt Perty!”
Alex marveled at the depth of love between them.
When they ended their joyful reunion, Tulip introduced her aunt to Alex.
“Your Grace,” Perty said, her eyes wide as she bobbed a curtsy, obviously daunted to be addressing a duke.
He gave a nod in return. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Hester. My wife has said nothing but good things about you and your husband.”
The woman’s expression turned to one of dismay. “Oh, Tulip! You are now a duchess. How am I to address you?”
“As you always have,” she insisted. “And you are not to treat me any differently, unless we are in public and formality demands it. But even then…”
“Don’t you worry, love,” her aunt said. “I know my place in your heart and in society, too. Don’t ever worry that you might slight me or your Uncle William.
We know we shall always hold a place in your heart, even if the silly rules of etiquette forbid you to show it.
Now, come in the pair of you and I’ll put the kettle on for us. ”
She called over one of the boys who obviously did odd chores around the house. “Peter, run to the shop and let Mr. Hester know his niece has come to visit.”
“Right away, ma’am.” The lad took off down the street.
She next turned to Mr. Carver and asked if he would join them.
“No, Perty. I shall take full advantage of these few hours off and enjoy the quiet of my own home.”
Alex watched him march down the street and enter a house similar to that owned by the Hesters, same golden stone and ivy, although the garden was not as nicely maintained.
“Poor man,” Mrs. Hester said as they watched him disappear into his house. “He hasn’t been the same since his dear Martha passed on.”
“His wife?” Alex asked.
“No, his daughter,” Mrs. Hester replied. “She died suddenly a few years ago. About five years, I think it was.”
Alex’s heart beat a little faster, for unexpected occurrences tended to be linked, did they not? “The same time my grandfather died? Was it before or after his death?”
Perty pursed her lips in thought. “Shortly afterward, I’m fairly certain.
Came as a surprise to us all, for Martha was a cheerful, hearty girl.
Never sick a day in her life, and suddenly she began to waste away.
Not sure what she died of. Mr. Carver’s wife had passed over a decade ago by then, poor woman died of a lung fever.
Ever since then, it was just him and Martha.
What a bright, sweet girl she was. Poor man, he is quite alone now. ”
“They never did learn what illness killed Martha, did they?” Tulip asked as they ambled into the house and settled in the parlor.
Perty took a moment to leave their side to put on the kettle.
It did not take long before she was back with cakes and delicate plates.
She was followed by a maid who carried a tray with teapot and cups.
Once the maid had set it down, Perty poured each of them a cup of tea while responding to Tulip’s question.
“What killed poor Martha? No, it remains quite the mystery.”
Alex frowned, but this was just his natural instinct to question anything sudden and unexpected leading to death. “Where was she when she came down with this mysterious disease?”