Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
‘Noah Gains, Bernard Forster, Stanley Coolidge and Archibald Porter,’ I read aloud to Harris. I passed him the list of names. ‘These are the four gentlemen who are seeking employment with us as Master Oscar’s violin tutor.’
I watched his warm eyes scan the sheet of pale-cream writing paper. ‘Very well, madam. I must say, all four have prestigious reputations.’
He turned to go, his dark coattails flapping out of the door. Then he stopped. ‘What time is the first gentleman expected?’
‘Mr Gains has been instructed to arrive for ten o’clock. Would you mind preparing morning tea, please?’
‘Certainly, madam.’
I had selected one of my more formal outfits for the occasion: a square-necked cream-and-black gown, sprigged with leaves and roses. My blonde hair was pulled away from my face in spools of tight curls and fastened with a long black velvet ribbon.
As I would be conversing with the gentlemen about possible employment, I wished to appear confident and articulate, with an air of capability. However, I did feel somewhat nervous inside.
I had instructed Oscar to enter the drawing room at a given time during each of the four discussions, so that he could also have his say on who would be recruited. After all, the successful gentleman would be his music tutor.
‘Deploy your best acting skills,’ I insisted to him through a mischievous smile. ‘Please knock on the door and say that you have mislaid your wooden toy soldier. I shall be seated in my usual chair and shall give it to you.’
I leaned in closer to his little shell-like ear. ‘This will present you with an opportunity to talk to them, if only briefly, and it will be interesting to witness how they engage with you.’
Oscar’s cinnamon freckles twitched on his nose and he laughed. ‘That is a wonderful idea, Mother.’ He turned to go. ‘Where is Father?’
‘He is on a business trip to Edinburgh,’ I answered hastily. ‘Yet again, the law demands his attention.’
Oscar nodded his suspicious acceptance and vanished, leaving me to curse Augustus under my breath.
The first gentleman, Noah Gains, arrived promptly, and Harris had just finished serving tea in preparation.
Mr Gains was directed to the drawing room by Violet, one of our housemaids. He offered me a deep bow, but I failed to be impressed by his initial reaction to being interviewed by someone of the fairer sex. There was also the question of his pompous manner.
When Oscar duly arrived in the drawing room as arranged, seeking his wooden soldier, Mr Gains awarded him a judgemental frown and muttered his discontent at the interruption.
The three subsequent gentlemen fared little better.
Bernard Forster failed to ask any questions pertaining to Oscar, showing very little interest in his prospective student. Instead, he spoke at great length about his own illustrious musical career, playing the violin and mandolin for Swedish royalty.
‘How are matters progressing, madam?’ enquired Harris as he came to collect the tea tray.
I had now despatched both Stanley Coolidge and Archibald Porter. They had barely spoken to Oscar when he entered, far more preoccupied with the remuneration attached to the post.
‘Not well,’ I confided. ‘You must think I’m being incredibly fussy, but I would not be comfortable with any of these four gentlemen instructing Oscar.’
Harris smiled kindly. ‘You are his mother, madam, and know the young master better than most.’ He collected the tea tray. ‘It would appear that the search goes on.’
I emitted a deep sigh. ‘So, it would seem.’
That was my assumption, until there was an unexpected visitor later that afternoon.
I was deftly undertaking some needlework, when Harris strode into the drawing room. ‘Excuse me, madam, but there is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you.’
I placed my embroidery down beside me on the chaise longue. ‘Who is it?’
‘He introduced himself as Gideon Kelly, madam. He apologises for calling unexpectedly.’
‘And what does he wish to speak to me about?’
‘The position as Master Oscar’s violin tutor, madam.
’ Harris clicked the drawing-room door closed behind him.
‘He tells me that he only became aware of the vacancy when he overheard two gentlemen discussing the matter in town.’ Harris studied me.
‘I can ask him to call again at a more convenient time, madam, if you prefer.’
I shook my head after a pause. ‘No, Harris, that won’t be necessary. As he is here now, it is more sensible to speak with him. Please send Mr Kelly in.’
‘Very well, madam.’
I watched Harris stalk out of the room, his long, thin shadow flickering on our sunlit Kidderminster carpet.
I smoothed the bodice of my gown, looking up expectantly as the door opened and Harris stepped to one side.
‘Mr Gideon Kelly, madam.’
A tall, broad figure appeared from behind Harris. He possessed eyes like warm chocolate and long, thick, dark-brown curls pulled away from his face and tied at the nape of his neck with a piece of black velvet ribbon.
He stared at me and then fiddled with the cuffs of his pale-blue shirt. ‘Good afternoon, madam,’ he rumbled in a melodious voice. ‘Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Gideon Kelly.’
I watched him bow and I curtsied in reply. ‘Yes, Mr Kelly, I know who you are for Harris has just introduced you.’
A faint colour spread across his cheeks. I hid a smile. ‘Would you like some tea, Mr Kelly?’
‘That would be most welcome, madam. Thank you.’
Harris nodded and left the room.
‘Please sit down, Mr Kelly.’
He took the quilted green velvet chair opposite.
‘I understand you are here because of your interest in the music-tutor position for my son.’
‘Yes, and please accept my apologies for not expressing my interest sooner. I happened to overhear a conversation in Port Starr between two gentlemen and that was the first I knew of it.’
I tried to concentrate on the matter at hand and not the attractive manner in which his mouth tilted upwards at the corners.
Harris returned with a fresh tray of afternoon tea and set it on the table. Once Harris had gone, I started to pour from our blue-and-white Kangxi porcelain teapot. I glanced upwards to pass him his cup and saucer.
He was studying me.
When he realised I had noticed I was the focus of his attention, he swiftly turned his head away to admire one of our portraits of The Hawthorns. ‘Thank you, madam.’
‘It’s Mrs Lapley,’ I said, handing him his tea. ‘So, you are a music teacher?’
He held his cup and saucer between long, slender fingers.
‘Yes. I am. I was delivering violin instruction to three young students in Dundee, two sisters and a brother, but they and their family have since moved to France, and I am seeking a new position.’ Mr Kelly took a sip of his tea and placed it gently down on the occasional table beside him.
‘I have also played the galoubet and violin in the Rose Mount Royal Orchestra.’
‘Isn’t that the orchestra which recently travelled to Venice?’ I asked, impressed.
‘It certainly was, Mrs Lapley. It was a truly thrilling experience.’
‘I’m sure it was.’
He pinned me to my chair with his dazzling brown gaze. ‘Earning a decent living from music is very difficult, unless you are hired by nobility to entertain them.’ His honesty was admirable and endearing. ‘That is why I supplement my income by tutoring in the subject that I adore.’
I nodded my understanding. ‘And you have no wife or family who are dependent upon you?’
His eyes locked with mine. ‘No, I am not married nor have any children. My parents have passed five years since, and I was an only child. Music is my mistress.’
I cleared my throat. There was something about this man that was compelling.
‘Would you permit me the honour of playing for you, Mrs Lapley?’
I blinked. ‘You mean, this instant?’
‘I do. I wish to impress you.’ He stared fixedly at me again.
I tried to release a small breath that was lodged in my throat. ‘Oh. Well. Yes. That would be delightful.’
I smoothed the layers of my gown and watched as he strode out of the drawing room to return with a rather tired violin case. He flicked the lock and removed his bow and a striking violin from inside.
I admired its fine burnished angles. ‘It is beautiful.’
Gideon Kelly smiled his appreciation and sat down again.
‘It is a Bergonzi made from spruce and maple. I had to undertake a great deal of manual labour in order to purchase it.’ He ran one finger around its curves.
‘I am of the opinion that each violin has its own personality, its own voice and character. Often, I feel it speaks for me.’
The passion in his voice was undeniable, as he rose to his feet and towered over me.
I stood up, bewitched.
‘What should you like me to play, Mrs Lapley?’
I blinked at him. ‘You wish me to request a piece of music?’
‘I would like nothing more.’
My stomach lurched at the intonation in his words. ‘What if I request a tune that you do not know?’
His dark eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Then I shall learn it for you.’
My heart galloped. I was finding it most difficult to retain an aura of calm. Who was this man? His presence was making me feel vulnerable. ‘Do you know “Spring” by Vivaldi? It is a particular favourite of mine.’
Gideon Kelly inclined his dark-brown curls. ‘I do indeed. It is wonderful.’
I watched, mesmerised, as he raised the violin and placed it under his angular jaw. He proceeded to play, sliding the bow rhythmically across the fine strings. The sound he created was uplifting and joyous; it filled The Hawthorns with a chorus of playful notes and sensations.
As Gideon Kelly continued to strike the strings with his bow the intensity of the music grew deeper. I was surrounded by the notes he was creating; they were reverberating through my body and so lost was I, I failed to notice a bright-blond head appear around the drawing-room door.
All at once, a second violin stepped up to accompany Mr Kelly.
The man’s eyes widened with surprise, as did mine, as Oscar stood beside him and proceeded to play, albeit with a few fumbled notes here and there.
When the piece finished with a dramatic flourish, I applauded enthusiastically. ‘Bravo! Bravo!’
Mr Kelly performed a bow, never taking his attention away from my glowing face. I caught another glimpse of his sumptuous curls fastened in a low ponytail at the base of his neck.
He lowered himself down in front of Oscar and shook hands. ‘It is a pleasure to meet another fellow musician, young sir.’
Oscar clutched his violin and beamed. ‘I am Oscar Lapley, sir.’
Mr Kelly then raised one hand towards Oscar’s right ear. ‘What do you have concealed behind there, young man?’
Oscar blinked his innocent blue eyes. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I think you have secreted this behind your ear, young master.’ Mr Kelly withdrew his closed hand and then unfurled it. In his palm, was a small square of marzipan in the shape of a dog. ‘This is for you, Master Oscar.’
Oscar gazed down at the glowing yellow sweet. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Gideon Kelly straightened up and offered me a kind smile. ‘Your son shows a great deal of ability, Mrs Lapley. With the correct instruction, he could have a very promising future in music.’
Oscar was solemn for a moment. ‘My father wishes for me to study law, as he did.’
Gideon Kelly listened. ‘Well, law is certainly an honourable profession, but in my humble opinion, it does not stir the blood in the same way as music.’
Oscar gave Mr Kelly a conspiratorial grin and dashed towards me, almost treading on the hem of my gown. ‘Can Mr Kelly become my violin tutor? Please, Mother!’
I tried to conceal the growing blush in my cheeks. ‘After your very impressive Vivaldi duet, I think there is no doubt about that.’
The Hawthorns holds the answer was typed in the centre of the paper.
There was no other message.
Even though I knew the mysterious messenger would be long gone by now, I still insisted on sticking my head out for another scan around, but the courtyard was empty, except for glowing lights and fluttering curtains in the occupied cottages.
Someone was trying to help Mason and me figure out all this Scarlet Highwayman stuff. But who were they? If they were trying to help, why not reveal their identity? I turned this question over in my head again and again.
For my own peace of mind, I double-locked the office door and fetched my mobile.
Mason’s number rang for what seemed like an eternity, and I was on the verge of dialling off when his deep voice finally swam down the line. ‘Poppy, sorry I took so long to answer.’
‘No, don’t worry,’ I faltered, ‘if this is a bad time…’
‘No, not at all. Darwin and I are just down on the beach for a walk.’
There was a sudden whoosh of waves in the background, followed by an excited bark.
‘Darwin,’ warned Mason, ‘put that down!’
I smiled, despite my rattled nerves.
‘That dog,’ Mason muttered, ‘anyone would think I never fed him. So, what’s up?’
‘There’s been another note delivered,’ I explained, the sheet of paper still clenched in my left hand.
‘Slow down,’ he soothed. ‘What does it say?’
I read out the sentence.
From further down the beach, I heard the faint giggle of a young girl. ‘Sounds like someone’s trying to tell us that the Scarlet Highwayman had some sort of connection to the Lapley estate.’ Mason’s concern was evident. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ I answered, not sounding convincing. ‘I’m fine.’ What with Alex Lapley and now this latest note being delivered by some phantom figure in black again, I’d been better.
Mason was firm. ‘I’m coming over now. I take it you’re still at the cottages.’
‘Yes. No. I mean, yes, I’m still in the office, but no, you don’t have to come over.’ I could feel my skin colouring. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have rung you.’
‘Stop being so bloody stubborn, Poppy! We’re only five minutes’ walk away.’
I ran a weary hand down my face.
‘You sound upset,’ he said. ‘See you soon and make sure the office door is locked until we arrive.’