Chapter 31 #2
“Was it you or Elizabeth who decided to build your plans around Kinsdale’s Pride?”
Mrs. Lynn blinked, and then rolled her eyes.
“Lord, Miss Thorne, what can you be thinking! Have you seen that poor animal? If it lives to see the starting post, I will be amazed. No. The horse is purely Sir Anthony’s delusion.
Elizabeth and I played along because that kept him complacent.
While he could convince himself that the horse could win the sweepstakes, he could also convince himself that anything else that was done in the meantime was simply a means to an end. ”
Which was very close to what she and Adam had speculated.
“Did she ever talk to you about Nathanial Spence?”
“The head groom?” Mrs. Lynn took another roll. “Yes. When she was enumerating her father’s shortcomings, she told me how he’d been fired. I always thought there was something more to it,” she added. “But I haven’t yet been able to find out what that might be.”
This might even be true. “Who was it she went to meet in the garden the night of the party?”
Mrs. Lynn sighed. “A man from the stables called Caleb. Elizabeth thought, and I agreed, it would be prudent to have someone keeping a close eye on who came and went around Kinsdale’s Pride.
Given the admiral’s … declaration about the games Sir Anthony might be playing, it seemed prudent to question him about what the admiral had seen or done at Lansdown and warn him to keep a closer eye out for that gentleman or his representatives.
” She paused. “So, we sent word and he came down to tell Elizabeth what he’d seen.
I recognize that may not help either of our cases, but that is the truth. ”
But is that all of it? “Are Caleb and Nathanial Spence the same person?”
“Do you know, Miss Thorne, that had not occurred to me,” answered Mrs. Lynn. “It may be. It was Elizabeth who selected him for our spy.”
“Tell me what happened to you after we spoke at the Kinsdales’.”
“I returned to the party,” said Mrs. Lynn. “I intended to put an end to the evening as quickly as possible, and then get a few hours’ sleep before I had to face the family and announce that I would be leaving. My plan was to play out the ruse I had outlined to you.
“Unfortunately, as sometimes happens at such affairs, some of the gentlemen were reluctant to leave.
They had lost a great deal at faro and were inclined to believe that there was some jiggery-pokery with the box.
Indeed, I was afraid it might actually come to blows, but his grace stepped in—with impressive directness, may I add—and when it was over, the disgruntled gentlemen were not entirely satisfied, but they did leave the house.
“Still, the incident was very unfortunate, all the moreso because Sir Anthony hates, hated, any form of unpleasantness. Once the gentlemen were turned out, he began to protest the situation most vociferously. I had a great deal to do to convince him to retire upstairs.”
“Had he been drinking?”
“Not to the point of drunkenness. He abhorred the sight of a drunken man, and feared the loss of dignity and control in himself.”
Which was what his valet said, and Mr. Layng had refused to believe. “I see.”
“But he was very upset,” Mrs. Lynn went on. “And his temper grew worse when he discovered there was a wine stain on his coat. I left him in Thrush’s hands, trusting that he could deal with both his master’s stain and his mood.”
“And then?”
Mrs. Lynn did not answer immediately. She pushed the remains of her salad about with her fork and stared at them, as if she might divine some additional truth from the arrangement of the bits of ham and celery.
“I returned to my own room. I thought I should give Sir Anthony some time to calm down, and take a moment to refresh my appearance. Then, I would go back to him and soothe any remaining temper.
“But when I got to my room I found a note had been left there for me.” She paused again. “My friends, the gentlemen who were assisting those who might need to arrange some extra funds in order to continue to play—”
The moneylenders.
“One of them had left a note of warning. The argument was not finished, they told me. There was a chance that it might recommence, and that blame would be attached to me. I was already worried, Miss Thorne, and, frankly, your appearance had stretched my nerves thinner than I care to admit. I decided discretion was the better part of valor, and I packed my bags and I took myself down the servants’ stair and I left. ”
“Do you have the note?” asked Rosalind.
Mrs. Lynn smiled. “I burnt it. As I said, Miss Thorne, I decided discretion was the better part.”
Which was prudent, but it was also convenient.
“You were not afraid to be out at that time of night?”
Now, Mrs. Lynn’s smile turned positively condescending. “I have been abroad at all hours, Miss Thorne. I know how to take care of myself.
“I intended to wait for the morning and then purchase a ticket for the London stage as soon as the coaching inn opened for business. However, my plans were spoiled by the presence of not one but several constables. I managed to overhear them say that they were looking for a woman traveling alone and that she might be using the name of Mrs. Lynn.” She stopped.
“From this, I intuited that something bad had happened. I assumed it was something to do with the gentlemen at the party.” She stopped again, and swallowed.
“I was stunned to discover that Sir Anthony had died.”
This last was true, Rosalind felt sure of it. Mrs. Lynn was a skilled liar, and Rosalind was certain that what she was being told now was far from the whole truth. However, in this moment Mrs. Lynn was pale and grave. Her eyes had gone distant, reliving some moment that she had not named.
It was a long moment before Mrs. Lynn was able to drag her attention back to the present, and to Rosalind.
“I was … slower to recover than I might have otherwise been,” she said.
“But when my wits were fully my own again, I realized I was in deeper trouble than I had ever been, and that my options were exceedingly limited. That was when I resolved to come to you.”
Rosalind carefully regarded the woman in front of her.
She was much more composed now, and her color was better.
She also seemed more at ease. Still, this Mrs. Lynn remained a very different person from the one she’d met with the Kinsdales.
All the brittle gaiety had vanished. In its place was a determined practicality that struck a cord with Rosalind.
She understood that feeling, or at least she thought she did.
But can I trust it? Was this practicality as much a ruse as the gaiety had been? Rosalind found she didn’t know.
There came a knock on the parlor door. Rosalind rose and went to answer and found Mrs. Leigh standing there, her face hard as stone.
“I’d have a word with you, ma’am, if you please,” she said stiffly.
Rosalind stepped at once into the corridor and closed the door behind herself. “What is it, Mrs. Leigh?”
“Miss Thorne, you are dear to my sister, and for that I’m willing to allow some irregularities, but this is a respectable house, and I mean to keep it so!”
A cold tide of worry washed over Rosalind. “Mrs. Leigh, please tell me what’s happened?”
“The sheriff is downstairs demanding I let him in. He says he’s a warrant for your Mrs. Lynn on a charge of murder!”