Chapter 10
In which a visitor arrives early
Traditionally, enchantments of Diplomacy are used to create peace, soothe troubled souls, and broker congeniality. However, in their darker manifestations, they can be used as a defence or an attack.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
Judith’s blue silk gown had been cleaned, and she donned it with a sense of triumph, along with an uneasy doubt.
She hoped she hadn’t been too hasty in confronting Mrs Ulrich and forcing the issue of the ghost. Yet the cellars must be swept and cleaned, and any spells removed.
The housekeeper could not be allowed to wallow in her grief.
And if dismantling the Crimson Lady caused the smuggler—or murderer—to show their hand, then all to the good.
She doubted, now, that Mrs Ulrich was a villain. She rather hoped not. The housekeeper clearly believed in the Crimson Lady and had amplified the rumours to guard her kegs of ratafia. But that did not mean she had killed Sgt Finlay just to protect her stash.
Baron Quarles’s visit at this point was an interesting development. Was he a smuggler? Or had he some other quarrel with Sgt Finlay? Was he returning to the scene of his crime? Judith decided she would be quite interested to meet this baron.
She tied on her matching mobcap, wishing she had her Norwich shawl to throw over her shoulders.
Robert was bringing her trunks and accoutrements, but she could not reasonably expect him till the morrow, for he would be travelling slowly with his injury.
She rather looked forward to showing him the castle: it was a grand old dame, and impressive with its beautiful views and skirts of green and blue.
And his Gift of Illusion might prove useful in her investigation.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. Trebellow proved most helpful when she listed her requirements: a room to be prepared immediately for Robert; several rooms to be aired in preparation for the possible arrival of her children and the Earl of Beresford in the future; drinking chocolate to be sourced; another gown to be found; and Baron Quarles to be informed that this was sadly to be his last visit.
When questioned about his lordship’s activities, Trebellow was dismissive.
“Oh, the baron is harmless enough; he potters around on the upper terraces at night with his telescope.”
“You’ve never seen him belowstairs?”
Trebellow paused. “Once, yes, ma’am. He was talking to the old cook, the one who left. I’m not certain what they discussed. It might have been about his lordship’s possets, which he liked to have at night.”
Judith sighed. A pity she couldn’t question the old cook. And a posset might be nice too, if she couldn’t have drinking chocolate.
Having put Kade to work on scrubbing the windows (at least, she thought it was Kade, for he was not adorned with the red ribbon), Judith spent some time going through the list of staff with Trebellow and arranging for more help to be employed to assist Mrs Ulrich.
It was ridiculous that a castle this large should be barely staffed, and from a close inspection of the books it seemed that the income from the dairy should allow for more expenditure.
Eventually, weary from parsing the accounts, she asked the butler to send luncheon to the Tea Tower.
She was feeling hungry after her inadequate breakfast, and the Tea Tower Room’s pleasant, cheerful air was a balm.
Outside, the sea was no longer such a bright blue, with clouds sweeping in from the north.
The piling, soft blankets in the sky made their own sort of beauty.
She ate slowly, enjoying the warmth of the cheery fire and the comforting presence of books and Ghastagon, who was stretched out showing his stomach in a rather indecorous manner.
There was no sign of Miss Onslow, who must have retreated to her library as she had promised. Judith had just drunk the last sip of her tea—still no chocolate, unfortunately—when Trebellow appeared in the doorway, puffing slightly.
“Ma’am, your first visitor has arrived.”
“Robert?” She put down her cup eagerly. “Already?”
“I assume it is he: a hired coach is crossing the causeway as we speak. Baron Quarles usually arrives in his own carriage.”
Judith crossed to the window and saw the small shape of a coach trundling across the thin, curving line of the causeway.
It was pulled by two horses: Robert must have travelled recklessly fast to reach Cornwall so soon.
Pleased satisfaction rose in Judith, though it warred with anxiety for his wound.
“Goodness, take me down to greet him at once!”
Trebellow bowed and led her down the stairs and passageways. It was most provoking that she still didn’t quite know the way around the castle, but soon she stood in the arched entryway with its multitude of doors. The butler pressed open the heavy leaf of the entrance, and she stepped out.
At once, she felt the pervading sense of doom she had felt upon her arrival. She shook her head crossly, trying to shrug off the grim feeling. She had forgotten to tell Mrs Ulrich to dismantle this charm as well. Or perhaps this one wasn’t Mrs Ulrich’s.
“Trebellow, have you put a Defence charm upon this lintel?”
He looked surprised, and stepped after her, tilting his head. He frowned. “Ah. I see what you mean. It is not simply my Defences, ma’am.” He paused. “I will speak to Mrs Ulrich.”
“Please do.” She looked at him curiously. “Have you never noticed it before?”
Oddly, he flushed. “No, ma’am. I apologise, ma’am.”
She wondered how he could have missed it: perhaps he left the castle at a run, being so eager to reach his wrassling matches. Or, more likely, he left by the servants’ entrance.
Rubbing her arms, she shivered, for a brisk breeze was blowing, cutting through the silk of her gown, and the sea was growing choppy with surging white tips. “We must walk to meet Robert. He is injured and you may need to carry him.”
They met Robert about halfway down the path, under the tunnel of trees.
He was limping, but valiantly working his way up the steep avenue, his brow furrowed, leaning heavily upon a walking stick while also carrying a portmanteau.
The coachman walked behind him, labouring under two more valises, which must be hers and the duke’s.
“Robert!” she called. “How on earth did you arrive so quickly?”
He stopped, leaning upon his stick, and smiled at the sight of her. “I’m afraid I called upon the duke’s resources and changed horses several times. I reasoned that his grace would want me to join you as soon as possible.”
She tutted. “What of your injury?” Gaining his side, she kissed his cheek, patting his arm in affection.
His blue eyes did look rather heavy with fatigue, and his clothes wrinkled.
Judith was inordinately pleased to see that he had decided not to wear his old livery and instead adopted the clothes of a gentleman.
He was wearing one of the duke’s coats, with an inexpertly tied (and rather bedraggled) cravat.
He answered her anxious question. “Miss Garvey employed her nursing talents on me. My leg is much improved already.”
“Hm,” said Judith sceptically. “Do you want my butler to carry you for the remainder of the climb?”
“Certainly not!” Robert’s expression was affronted. Then he took in the sight of Trebellow, a small mountain blocking the path, and he grinned. “It looks like you could carry both me and Lady Avely at once.”
Trebellow bowed. “If it were so required, sir.”
“Not at the moment.” Robert staunchly continued walking, while Trebellow took his portmanteau. “What’s news of the duke?”
She shot him a warning look. “Oh, he is all right enough, I dare say. I’ll tell you about it later.”
He nodded and obediently changed the subject, glancing around. “I must say, Castle Lanyon is beyond anything I imagined. It has its own island!”
“It’s rather grand, isn’t it?” Judith took his arm, hoping he would lean on it. “The housekeeper informs me it has one hundred and twenty-one rooms, so I assure you there is plenty of space for you. And there are delightful landscapes to paint, if you wish to do so.”
They chattered on about such trivial matters, although she sensed Robert’s impatience for news.
Then, when they came in view of the entrance, they saw Miss Onslow coming round the corner of the ramparts, dressed in a fetching gown of dark apricot with green trimmings.
She drew up in surprise at the sight of them.
Judith smiled. “Ah, Miss Onslow! Out for some fresh air?”
“Indeed, before the rain comes.” Her curious gaze took in Robert’s tall form and chestnut hair, the blue eyes and clefted chin, and she blinked.
Judith introduced them. “This is Mr Robert Steer,” she added, remembering with a pang that Robert wished to continue under his mother’s name. She hesitated, unsure how to describe her relation to him, but Robert came to her rescue after an awkward pause.
“I am a distant cousin of Lady Avely’s,” he said quickly, “on her husband’s side.”
Judith tried to hide her surprise. Her feelings were mixed: displeasure that he would not admit to a more immediate family connection, but relief that he was prepared, at least, to claim some sort of relation.
She saw Trebellow cast her a curious glance, for she had not described Robert as family.
“He has come to stay with me while he recovers from an injury,” she explained.
Miss Onslow curtsied. “Were you injured while fighting Bonaparte’s troops, sir?” she said, with marked interest.
Robert flushed. “Er, no, nothing of the sort, I’m afraid.
” He looked very embarrassed. Perhaps he was also conscious that until a day ago, he had been in the lowly position of a footman.
Ordinarily he would not have been permitted to address a gentlewoman as an equal, despite his schooling at Taunton.