Chapter Four #2
“Yes, I gather from the questioning Alden conducted in the village and the farms that no one held him in high esteem.”
“And the way he treated his only relation. Lady Rosalind was more of a servant here than his niece and heir. A disgrace, I tell you!”
Devlin hadn’t thought about Rosalind’s value. Value in that she would inherit not only her father’s lands but also Capell’s.
Devlin wondered if the king had planned to use Rosalind to bolster allegiance from the border lords through a marriage contract. “Who was to decide on Lady Rosalind’s future husband? Lord Edmond or King Charles?”
“I understood that the king would allow Lord Edmond to choose her husband, but he would not turn loose of her estate unless the future groom agreed to continue the work Edmond does to ferret out and report any suspicious activity to the king directly. The king fears that the Parliamentarian movement will gain in popularity, and he wants to know which of his lords and citizens would support a rebellion,” Benton said.
“So, the king wishes to strengthen his alliances along the border of Wales,” Devlin said more to himself than Benton.
But none of this was particularly nefarious. Marriages were arranged all the time. It was a woman’s duty to secure her family’s future or benefit her country with a sound marriage arrangement.
Devlin thought for a moment, “But what of the children? Ridley said Capell had found a way to recover his losses concerning Luella and Kaylyn as well. What did he mean?”
Benton lowered his gaze for a second, but when he raised his head, he looked Devlin right in the eye.
“I was not privy to Lord Edmond’s plans for the girls.
But I do know that many of his acquaintances were some of the most unsavory of characters with the blackest of hearts.
I have no doubt that our girls could have ended up leaving with any one of the degenerates he often associated with. ” Benton’s eyes teared up.
Was this the type of man the king relied on? Did King Charles know the depravity of Lord Edmond’s character? Or maybe the king did not care. His main concern was protecting the absolute power of the monarchy.
Devlin was afraid of what Benton would reply, but he asked, “Did Edmond abuse the children?”
“He tried, Sir Devlin. The children often raised his ire. But Lady Rosalind never allowed him to harm them. She kept them out of his sight as much as possible, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. She would then become the object of his anger and suffer for it.”
Devlin thought of Rosalind. Her devotion to the children and her obvious love and care for the servants was unlike anything he’d ever seen or experienced.
Her affection and fondness for the entire household was not something seen amongst the nobility.
Devlin thought about how fortunate she was to have found a family, though unconventional, that obviously adored and loved her in return after being sent to live with her rotter of an uncle.
Devlin steered the discussion back to the beginning. “Let’s return back to the night in question, the last night Edmond was seen. What happened after Capell struck Lady Rosalind? Did she fight back?”
“The argument became very heated,” Benton said. “Lord Edmond told her she would soon be gone, and his troubles would be over.”
Devlin leaned in, “Go on. What did she say?”
“She told him that she would never marry any of the churlish swine that he wanted to sell her off to. She then left the hall and ran to her chamber.”
“Did Capell follow?”
“No. He downed his goblet of wine and yelled for another. I gave him another and then left,” Benton answered. “Usually, when he was in that dangerous of a mood, he went to the village for more drinking and to find a whore, willing or unwilling.”
“Did you hear Capell come back to the manor that evening?” Devlin prodded.
Benton shook his head, “No, but that wasn’t unusual. He often stayed out all night.”
“Did you see anyone else leave the manor after the argument?” Devlin stared into Benton’s rheumy eyes. “Answer carefully.”
Benton paused. “No, I did not see anyone leave the manor.”
Devlin sat back in his chair and sighed, “Thank you, Benton. I don’t have any other questions. Could you please ask Marta to come here? I’d like to question her now.”
“Very well, sir.” Benton rose from the table and again began his trek back to the kitchen.
As the flames from the fire danced in the hearth, he realized that everyone in the manor had the motive to see Lord Capell dead.
But it was unfathomable to him that anyone here could actually accomplish the deed.
The risks were too high. His thoughts were interrupted as Marta entered. He motioned for her to sit down.
Devlin didn’t need to hear any more about how much of a louse Capell was, so he thought he would get to the point with his questions for the cook. “Marta. Did you hear the argument or see the altercation between your lady and Lord Capell on the night he was last seen?”
“Oh, no, sir,” she replied quickly. “I was in the kitchen and I didn’t even know there was anything going on until Ridley ran in and got the girls and said they needed to hide. I then knew something had happened. I made sure the children got up the stairs, and then I peeked around the corner.”
“What did you see?” Devlin hoped to glean some new information.
“I saw Lady Rosalind running from the room. Lord Capell sat for just a moment, downed his wine, and threw the goblet to the ground. He yelled for more. I made sure he didn’t see me.”
“Did you see Lord Edmond after that? Even later in the evening or through the night?” Devlin asked, but he knew the answer.
“No sir, no, I didn’t.”
Frustrated, Devlin waved his hand, dismissing her with a long sigh. There was only Lady Rosalind to question now. He left to seek her out.
Grim, feeling rested after his nap by the fire, joined him as he searched for the lady of the house.
She had said she would be conducting the children’s lessons.
After finding no one in two of the downstairs rooms, he finally heard voices in the stairwell, and laughter.
Grim was attracted to the sound, and he led Devlin up the steps and down the hall to a solarium.
Moving quietly, he approached the open door and peered inside. The room boasted several large windows that surprisingly held glass instead of being covered with wooden shutters. Warm sunlight filtered through each one, casting swathes of light throughout the room.
A fireplace helped keep the chill from the room, and a comfortable woolen rug, dyed red, sat at the edge of the hearth.
In the middle of the chamber, a sturdy wooden table stood with six chairs around its perimeter.
Two additional tall-back chairs rested against the far wall, and a settee was positioned in front of the fire.
The room was warm and comfortable. It was obvious Lady Rosalind and the children spent much of their time here. A basket of blocks, a collection of homemade dolls, and a sewing box with threads and unfinished embroidery pieces rested by the settee that was near the fire.
Devlin never had any such comforts growing up. These children were fortunate that the lady of the manor sought to make this house a home. His thoughts were interrupted with a low moan, and he looked around to see Ridley at the table with his head in his hands.
“Why do I need to learn to read? No one of my lot learns to read,” he lamented.
Devlin smiled. He remembered many such lessons growing up. His father had insisted on an education for his only son, but he had not been a willing participant.
“Mama says if you don’t learn to read, you’ll grow up to be the village idiot,” Kaylyn chided.
Little Luella nodded her head in agreement.
“Girls, that’s not what I said. Just because someone can’t read doesn’t make them any less intelligent than any other person.
But knowing how to read can make you smarter,” Rosalind explained patiently.
“Ridley, you could become a merchant, a clerk, or even a great architect. You don’t have to work in the kitchen all your life. ”
At that, Ridley rolled his eyes, but he focused on the slate tablet in front of him, “I’d rather raise horses, milady.”
Grim made his entrance, and both girls squealed in delight. The fierce dog wasted no time, only traveled about three feet and he clumsily plopped down on the sun-warmed floor, leaving his underbelly exposed to the bright rays of light and the tender scratches from the girls. Devlin shook his head.
“Yes, Sir Devlin. What can I assist you with?” If she was perturbed at the interruption, she didn’t show any outward signs.
At her question, Devlin turned and looked at Rosalind. Long black eyelashes framed her large brown eyes, and a curly tendril of hair had escaped her braid. She had a smudge of the powdery rock residue she used to scratch letters onto Ridley’s tablet on her cheek.
“Sir Devlin,” she repeated.
He broke his gaze. “I need…” his voice practically squeaked. He cleared his throat, “I need to complete your questioning. But I see that you are occupied. Perhaps you can grant me an audience tomorrow?”
“Yes, that will be fine. I want to complete Ridley’s reading lesson. The girls finish more quickly as they are more willing pupils, but they need to work on their stitching.”
The girls ran to a basket beside the settee and pulled out pieces of fabric that were stretched upon a small frame. Threads of different colors hung from the back of the fabric.
Kaylyn reached him first. “Look, Sir Devlin. Mama says my stitches are improving.”
Devlin didn’t really know what to say. Women and sewing were not anything he knew or even cared about. But he wasn’t a complete ogre so he took the frame from her hands and looked at her work.
On the fabric, he could see she practiced many different stitches. He saw clearly her shaky, uneven, first attempts and how she improved as more were completed. In one corner he saw a blue flower that wasn’t quite finished.
“This…this is very good,” he said hesitantly but sincerely.
Kaylyn was satisfied with his praise, and she gifted him with a big smile. She took her work and sat on the settee.
“Now me, sir! Look at mine!” Luella nearly jumped with excitement.
Devlin took her smaller sewing frame. Her stitches were terribly uneven, but considering her young age, he deemed them not bad at all.
“Your work is very good too, Luella. You’ll be sewing the finest of dresses and creating bold tapestries for the king before you know it.”
Luella giggled. “I’d rather be a faerie, Sir Devlin, not a seamstress!”
“You can’t be a faerie, Luella,” Ridley said incredulously. “That’s impossible.”
Luella marched over to the table, stood with a hand on her hip, and proceeded to explain to Ridley how he was most certainly wrong.
Lady Rosalind sighed and stood from the table. “Ridley, you may be excused. Luella, you may sit with your sister. I will be with you in a moment. I want to show you a new stitch today.”
Luella did as she was told. Ridley gathered his slate tablet and the rock they used to scratch out letters and placed them on a small shelf near the fireplace.
“Oh, Ridley,” Devlin called, “Mr. Danby has a repair needed on his saddle. He would like you to assist him. Is he free, Lady Rosalind?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied. “Ridley, let Marta know that you are to assist Mr. Danby before you go.”
Ridley smiled and ran from the room.
Lady Rosalind walked to where he stood. She stood close, and he looked down into her face. Her brown eyes were expressive and intelligent and her skin was flawless. And she smelled good, like roses.
“Thank you for that,” she said.
“For what?”
“For being decent and honorable with the children. Other than Benton, no man has ever treated them kindly.”
Devlin reflected for a moment and remembered that there were only a few that treated him kindly when he was a young boy too.
He remembered the fear and loneliness. He then felt sentiment or possibly jealousy, for these children and their unconventional family arrangement.
They’d basically lived in a hell house all their lives under the thumb of Lord Capell, but still, they laughed. They played. They learned and grew.
Devlin’s heart jumped slightly in his chest. Was this what Alden often spoke of, having a family, friends and caring?
Stop it!
He was here to do a job, and that was all. Besides, look at him. He was a beast, a cold-hearted killer. He could not comprehend how Rosalind could even look at him.
“Did Lord Capell keep ledgers or records of collected rents and funds? I would like to see an accounting of his transactions. If he owed a debt, that person could have been a threat.”
“I believe he did. Just off from his bedchamber is his private library. He often went to that room in the evenings. If he had records, they would be there.”
“Good. I will see what, if anything, there is to find. I do not wish to be disturbed,” Devlin said curtly. He left the room.
****
Rosalind followed him to the door of the solar and pointed down the hall where Lord Edmond’s bedchamber door stood closed. She stared after him.
This man…this man who she knew to be dangerous and held her future in his hands confused her. His questioning was firm and sometimes intimidating. But nothing he had asked was unfair. Stories were told of his ruthlessness on the battlefield. But there was more to him than that.
He tolerated jests and banter from his friend Alden, and her heart fluttered when she saw he was patient with the children.
Devlin looked menacing, but when he spoke to the girls and Ridley, his scarred face softened, and his dark eyes showed amusement and interest, not cruelty, like he enjoyed their company—or at the very least didn’t despise their presence.
And whether he realized it or not, he gave Benton and Marta quiet respect.
He hadn’t spoken as if he was better than them.
His closeness with the king placed him in a position of power but he treated them with dignity.
This behavior conflicted with her initial assessment of him.
Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps he was honorable. Perhaps he could help her.
But could she trust him?