Chapter 17
THE CONFIDENCE TRICK
James walked into the library the next morning, carrying his second cup of coffee.
Gideon was before him reading a five-day-old newspaper that had arrived that morning.
Thus was the lot of living on the other side of England, James thought.
He could scarcely imagine what it must have been like to read of Boney’s defeat at Waterloo five days afterward.
He set his cup down on a small table and sat down in the winged chair next to it.
“You didn’t need to bring your cup in here. I’m having a coffee service brought in.”
“I’d already fixed the coffee as I like it, seemed easier to bring it than to leave it and make a new one here.”
“Practical, pragmatic, James,” Gideon said.
“Someone needs to be. Did you find that Roman coin last night?”
“Early this morning, actually. While lying in bed I searched my mind for ideas as to where he might have placed it. Got an idea and went directly there on rising and there it was.”
“Where had he placed it?”
“In the bottom of his humidor,” Gideon told him in a dry fashion.
James laughed lightly. “Not a place I would have thought to look. However did you think of that as a hiding place?”
“As children, Jasper and I were admonished to never touch his humidor. The one time we did, we were punished. Painfully punished. We never touched it again.”
“He put it in a place he thought you would not look due to your childhood experience.”
“Exactly. And you know, if I hadn’t been lying in bed relaxing before I rose for the day, I don’t think I would have remembered that… Mr. Thornbridge will be here soon. He can take it to the clay mine later this morning and put it in a discoverable hidden location,” Gideon said.
“What will be put in a discoverable hidden location,” Cecilia asked as she joined the gentlemen in the library.
“The Roman coin,” James told her.
“Oh, you found it. Wonderful.” Her eyes lit up. “This might be fun this afternoon.”
“It could also be dangerous,” James admonished her.
“Not with others around, others like you,” she countered.
He looked at her side-eyed. “No impulsive actions today.”
“Never,” she denied, with wide-eyed innocence, though her dark blue eyes held a hint of mischief.
James looked up at the ceiling as Gideon laughed.
“I have been thinking,” Cecilia began as she sat on the blue settee.
“A dangerous sign,” James told Gideon.
“Oh, hush,” she admonished.
“I’ve been thinking that in casual conversation—with Mrs. Hargrave around—I can tell her, in a sad way, that rather than selling Pomum Court you are thinking of tearing it down to build something smaller.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Less costly to maintain, less staff, and it is only you and Chelsea. See what comes of that.”
“You think Mrs. Hargrave will react to that?” he asked, his forehead drawn into doubtful lines.
“I do. But I’m not as concerned with her reaction as I am of others around. ”
Sitting in the chair across from her, James nodded.
“I feel bad using her as bait to draw out Mr. Entwhistle,” Cecilia admitted.
“You feel confident he is responsible for my brother’s death?” Gideon asked.
“I do. And responsible for the cider mill fire. It was him I saw walking away. I’m convinced of it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“It was the bow that gave him away. Just as Mr. Hargrave would do anything for Mrs. Hargrave, so will Mr. Entwhistle. I admit I don’t understand her attraction for men, but I like her. She did not have the best upbringing and has not had success in achieving what she wants, however, she—”
There was a knock on the library door. Gideon bade them enter. It was Mr. Thornbridge, followed behind by Marcia with the coffee service.
“Come in! Have a seat, Mr. Thornbridge,” Gideon said. “Marcia, put the coffee service on that table over there,” he said pointing to a table under the windows. “We’ll serve ourselves.”
“Yes, my lord… Lady Branstoke, would you be wanting some tea instead of coffee?” the maid asked Cecilia.
“No, I need something more bracing than tea this morning. Coffee will do me well.”
“Yes, my lady,” Marcia said, curtsying before leaving the room.
“Mr. Thornbridge,” James said. “We believe we know who has been behind the vandalism and other more intense accidents that have befallen Gideon.”
“That is excellent news!”
“But we need your assistance to complete the investigation,” James continued.
“Of course! I’m happy to help.”
“Lord Monteith has a Roman coin in his possession.”
Gideon pulled the coin out of his waistcoat pocket.
“Is that gold?” Mr. Thornbridge asked, his voice reverent at the sight of the gold-colored coin.
“No. It is a blend of metals called orichalcum,” James said.
“Many people make that mistake. We are counting on that this afternoon,” Cecilia said with a smile. “We want you to place it in the mine near where the pottery shards have been found. Buried, but easily found by someone today.”
“You want to see the reactions of people to the discovery of this coin?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“This will be interesting. I’ll go up there at noon to place it and stay in the area to make sure no one else finds it in the meantime,” Mr. Thornbridge said.
“That would be helpful,” James said.
“I have a few tasks to complete beforehand, so when I finish my coffee I’ll take my leave.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thornbridge,” Gideon said.
Cecilia glanced up at the sky as the groom helped her into the pony cart. She did not see a spot of blue anywhere. The sky had a uniformly mushy, light gray. Like oatmeal. The air felt close; breathing felt harder. She hoped this was not a forerunner of rain.
With a gentle slap of the reins, she urged her horse forward toward the Roman road and the gray stone bridge that would take her across the stream.
James rode up beside her. “You’re solemn, Cecilia,” he said.
She smiled wryly at him. “It’s the weather. It has an ominous feel. As far as one could see the blue of the firmament, it is blanketed.” She looked up at him and laughed. “It looks like mushy porridge,” she said with as much seriousness as she could muster.
“Porridge?”
“You know how much I detest porridge.” She screwed her nose up.
He snorted, “Yes.”
“Do you think it will rain?” she asked.
“Don’t even think of that possibility; it will give us bad luck. But, since you asked, the sky should be darker if it’s to rain.”
“Well, if it does rain, I’d like to push whoever has caused the mine collapse straight into the wettest, muddiest area.”
James gave a shout of laughter, causing Gideon to turn and look back at them. “What’s going on?”
“My wife is demonstrating how bloodthirsty she may be.”
“James!” protested Cecilia.
“Never fear, my love. If it comes to that, I’ll help you.” Particularly if it does turn out to be Mr. Entwhistle.
The Comptons, with Mr. Hawley in tow, were the first to arrive. “What’s this about Roman finds in your clay pit mine?” Mr. Hawley called out to Gideon.
“I’ll explain, when more get here. That is the reason for the gathering, so I don’t have to repeat myself and show everyone at different times. Get it all done at once. Rather exciting, if I do say so myself, and I have not been into the Roman finds craze up until now,” Gideon said.
Cecilia noted that he walked carefully across the mud to join the first visitors.
It had rained the night before, not enough to make the jiggly surface Mr. Abney had spoken about; but enough to be messy.
She wished she’d worn her black habit, mud stains and all, for she knew there would be more before the day was out.
“You have a fairly big clay mine here, my lord,” Mr. Hawley said, peering down onto the terraces.
“Yes, we do, and it is kaolin, the best kind of clay,” Gideon said proudly.
Mr. Bagnall-Bently and Mr. Lamont arrived together.
“Ah, good,” James said to Mr. Lamont. “You came. Lord Monteith may need some specific surveying to be done of his mine.
That drew Gideon’s attention from Mr. Hawley. “Yes, I think it will. I’ll have Mr. Thornbridge connect with you when it appears we need it done.”
“I should be available, the only survey work I have scheduled is Baron Compton’s Roman site,” Mr. Lamont returned congenially.
Mrs. Hargrave and Mrs. Johnston came with Mr. Entwhistle at the reins.
“Not a good time for this,” Mr. Entwhistle said to Gideon as he helped the ladies out of their carriage. “Looks like it might rain.”
“True enough, but many days look like this here in Devon and then it doesn’t rain. You’ve been here long enough, you should know that,” Gideon said good-naturedly. He offered each woman an arm to lead them to where everyone was gathering near the winch.
Cecilia saw Mr. Entwhistle frown at Gideon as he led the women away. Cecilia shook her head. Maybe Mrs. Norcroft was correct. Maybe they were well matched. She had a hard time accepting it, but it wasn’t her life. She turned away.
Finally, Mrs. Norcroft and Miss Nieves arrived.
The only person they had invited that sent their regrets was Dr. Pettigrew who said he had to go back to North Tauton.
Cecilia had questioned the decision not to invite the Waynes, the Falstafs or the Kassells.
James had said this was not a repeat of the dinner party.
They only invited those who appeared to have an interest in the Roman finds.
Cecilia joined Mrs. Norcroft and Miss Nieves in looking over the mine.
“Do you know what this is about?” Mrs. Norcroft asked Cecilia soto voce.
“Yes… Gideon wants to share with those who know more about Roman artifacts than he does, the area where pottery pieces have been found here. He wants opinions as to whether the mine is worth excavating for its historical significance. It is paying nicely for Pomum Court. If he halts mining, will the excavation pay in return?”
Miss Nieves laughed. “Brilliant when one considers it. If he didn’t seek alignment he could be vilified for whatever decision he chose. This way, he removes the onus from himself.”