Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Eliza Compton’s lips were puckered with disdain. ‘That’s the problem with your family, Mr Lapley. They never understood the meaning of community spirit.’
The colour drained further from Alex’s face as the elderly woman, wrapped in a black coat with huge gold buttons, moved forward through the bodies of the gathered crowd. Her jowly face was serious. ‘Young Ryan did an excellent job of delivering my notes. I hope they weren’t too cryptic.’
‘You?’ I gasped. ‘It was you who sent those notes to Mason and me?’
A deep murmur rippled through the crowd.
‘And Georgina Lapley’s diary?’ questioned Mason into the microphone. ‘That was you, too?’
‘Well, not me personally,’ repeated Eliza, pulling her coat tighter. ‘Ryan delivered them all on my behalf.’
Alarm registered in Alex Lapley’s face. ‘Notes? What notes? And what diary are you blathering on about?’
The crowd of onlookers swayed, exclaiming and speculating aloud.
Eliza smiled triumphantly at Alex Lapley’s evident discomfort. ‘I’ve been passing information to Poppy and that handsome young man over there.’
Eliza negotiated the cluster of people like a stately ship easing itself through arduous waters.
‘How the hell did you get your hands on that diary?’ thundered Alex, moving towards her. ‘That belongs to my family.’
‘Yes, you would’ve liked that,’ countered Eliza. ‘Then if you’d been in possession of it, all this would’ve been kept quiet.’
‘What are you on about, you stupid old cow?’
Eliza didn’t flinch at Alex’s spittle-fuelled outburst, even though many members of the audience reacted noisily to his lack of respect. She unhooked her handbag from her wrist and plucked out a yellowing letter, sealed in a small plastic wallet.
‘In the late seventeen hundreds, your family employed members of mine in service,’ explained Eliza.
‘Augustus Lapley was a spiteful, greedy man who exploited his staff to their detriment.’ She swallowed before she spoke again.
‘But his wife, Georgina, was a wonderful young woman, far too gentle and generous for the likes of him.’ Eliza composed herself again.
‘On her deathbed, Georgina insisted that my great-great-grandmother, Emily, take possession of her diary.’
Determinedly, Eliza continued. ‘Georgina had recorded the harsh treatment she and that poor boy of hers, Oscar, had endured over the years at the hands of Augustus. She made Emily promise to keep it safe and one day tell the truth about her and the Scarlet Highwayman.’
Excitement soared inside me. ‘But why has it taken until now?’
‘The diary was lost,’ admitted Eliza. ‘It only turned up unexpectedly last year, when my sister-in-law was going through old heirlooms we’d stuck in my late brother’s attic.
’ She added defiantly, ‘She handed it to me, along with some other papers, and it was from there that the story started to unravel.’
Alex squinted at the letter held in Eliza’s black-gloved hand. ‘And what’s that thing?’
‘Further proof of what your cruel ancestor Augustus did to that poor wife of his.’ Eliza’s eyes pleaded with the assembled crowd.
‘Those love letters – the ones I showed Mr Cooper – I’d kept hidden up at McKerron Castle for ten years.
I’m so sorry, but I was frightened.’ She sighed, flicking a nervous glance at Alex Lapley.
‘I know I should have spoken out about all this, but Alex and his father threatened me.’
There were gasps and grunts from the crowd as, emboldened, Eliza continued.
‘When I discovered those letters a decade ago, I said I was going to make them public, but Roger and Alex Lapley pounced on me.’ She swallowed and carried on.
‘They said I would lose my job at the castle if I did anything stupid, and considering my age and how much I love what I do … that castle is my life … I couldn’t afford to lose it. I just couldn’t.’
Eliza composed herself. ‘When Mr Cooper turned up at McKerron Castle and told me he knew about all those payments the Lapley family had made, I realised the truth would come out and so I told him about the letters. To be honest, it was a relief.’
Eliza gazed wearily around the crowd. ‘I’m truly sorry I didn’t speak up or do anything before now.’ She cleared her throat and pressed on. ‘The Lapley family had so much local influence, not to mention they were contributing to the upkeep of McKerron Castle … and now we know why.’
Her voice tailed off reluctantly for a moment. ‘I thought that when they moved away from Port Starr, which would be the end of it, but when he turned up again—’ Eliza raised a papery finger and jabbed it at a scowling Alex Lapley ‘—he tried to whitewash history!’
Fury enveloped Alex and he lunged towards Eliza with a terrifying grunt. However, a young, well-built lad and his friend standing close by stepped in front of her for protection. ‘Don’t think so,’ growled the taller of the two teenagers. His friend in a grey beanie loomed over Alex intimidatingly.
‘Georgina Lapley was nothing but a gold-digging bitch!’ yelled Alex in fury.
‘No wonder Augustus changed his will when he found out she’d been shagging some two-bit music teacher!
’ His sharp features hardened further. ‘He had them followed, you know, Georgina and Gideon. Her colluding friend, too. It was all in his will.’
Thoughts pushed and pressed inside my mind. So that was how Alex Lapley knew of the importance of the cottages.
Eliza recovered herself and she managed a relieved smile at Mason and me.
She ignored Alex and his outburst. She gestured at us.
‘These two young people gave me the courage I needed to do something about all the lies that have been told for so long.’ She shook her head in dismay.
‘That poor man – Gideon Kelly – the Scarlet Highwayman – has been accused of all sorts of awful crimes and it’s about time the truth came out. ’
Alex’s jaw grew slack. He took a few steps forward but was prevented from moving by the teenage boys.
Mason offered Eliza an encouraging smile. ‘Would you mind coming up here to read out that letter that you’re holding, Mrs Compton?’
Eliza nodded after a moment’s consideration.
I gave her a nod of encouragement as Mason gallantly held her hand and assisted her to the microphone, where he adjusted its height for her. Then he stepped back to stand beside me.
Eliza’s hair, like a puff of white candy floss, bobbed as she took the letter out of its plastic envelope. She held her hand out to Mason and he understood, passing her the diary. She took it and dropped her eyes to the pages fluttering open.
From out in the crowd, a young father, his toddler son hoisted on top of his shoulders, called out, ‘Excuse me. Does this mean that the Scarlet Highwayman never set fire to the orphanage, after all? Or murdered that high court judge?’
‘That’s right,’ Eliza’s voice rang out through the microphone. ‘It was thugs that Augustus Lapley and his crooked relatives paid who committed those terrible crimes. They were trying to frame Gideon Kelly – the Scarlet Highwayman.’
Alex shrank back under the hostile gaze of the surrounding crowd.
Eliza took a breath. ‘Please listen to this section of Georgina Lapley’s diary first and then I shall read this letter.’
She began to read aloud from Georgina’s diary into the microphone, with a throng of Port Starr locals gazing up at her.
16 February 1794
‘Mother, can we go to the park today? Please?’
I smiled indulgently down at my eight-year-old son, with his thatch of corn-blond hair and faint trace of cinnamon freckles dusted across the bridge of his slightly upturned nose. It was like gazing into a mirror.
He scuffed his shoe on the chequered hall floor. I asked him to stop. ‘You know how irritated your father becomes when he sees you doing that.’
‘Perhaps that’s why I do it.’
I frowned at him.
‘After the park, could we take a stroll along the beach, Mother?’
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed at his appealing expression. ‘Oscar Charles Lapley, you are incorrigible.’
‘Is that a good thing to be?’
‘Sometimes it is.’ I lowered myself to his height, so that I was parallel with those wide, sea-blue eyes. ‘Have you finished practising your violin piece for Mr Kelly?’ As I uttered his name, a deep blush gathered on my cheeks. I hoped Oscar wouldn’t notice.
‘Yes. Well. Almost.’
I ran my hands up and down the sleeves of his dark velvet jacket. ‘Come. I’m sure a break would be beneficial for you.’
We started for the door, its stained-glass panes mirroring the winter sun.
‘Oh, I’ve forgotten my scarf. Wait here, Oscar, while I collect it.’
My lace-up boots tapped along the hall and up towards our cloakroom.
‘Can I help you, madam?’ offered Harris, our butler. He had materialised out of nowhere, a kindly smile playing around his mouth.
‘I’ve forgotten my sage scarf. Not to worry, Harris. I’ll fetch it.’
‘As you wish, madam.’ His tall, bony back vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
I hitched my russet skirts up a little from my ankles and carefully negotiated the two steps to where our assorted cloaks, coats and jackets were assembled. There was a pungent smell of mothballs.
I fetched my silk scarf hanging from its peg and knotted it at the base of my throat. It was then that I heard murmuring voices across the hall.
There was a sliver of light creeping out from the drawing room. The heavy oak door was ajar and as I approached, the voices gained more clarity.
I was drawn to the whispers and thrum of conversation, but I ensured my boots were placed silently on each of the black-and-white tiles. It was as though I were participating in a game of chess.
Through the slight gap in the door my attention locked on Augustus, his severe pale hair swept back from his forehead. He appeared to be pacing back and forth like an agitated animal.
‘Gentlemen, I am not prepared to have that vagabond in my home for a moment longer than is necessary.’
‘Quite, sir.’
‘He is making every effort to inveigle himself into the affections of not only my wife, but also our son.’
A terrified breath stuck in my throat. I pressed my ear closer to the partially open door.
‘I therefore wish to employ your services on a rather delicate matter.’
‘That’s what we are here for, sir.’
I angled my body a little to the left, desperate to locate who possessed the other two, disembodied voices.
Just beyond our grand stone fireplace, with its intricate carvings of hawthorns, stood two individuals I had never seen before.
Their attire was shabby, tailcoats frayed and speckled with grime, and they bore discoloured shirts.
The slightly broader of the two men grinned a yellow smile at Augustus. ‘What would you ’ave us do, sir?’
I watched, my horror rising, as my husband delivered his instructions.
‘I wish you to ensure that Mr Kelly never sets foot in Port Starr again.’
‘’Ow so, sir?’ asked the other man, rubbing his ruddy complexion.
Augustus eyed them with disdain. ‘I want you to emphasise to Mr Kelly that he should leave Port Starr as a matter of urgency, as much for his own safety as for others’.’
‘Others?’ repeated the yellow-toothed man. ‘Who might that be, sir?’
Fear clawed at me as I listened. Perhaps the man didn’t appreciate the devious methods of my husband, but I did.
‘My wife and my son,’ Augustus answered simply. ‘If he refuses to depart, you must tell him that it is not only his safety that will be in jeopardy, but also that of Georgina and Oscar.’
The two men exchanged glances. ‘We’ve never hurt a woman or child before, sir. That ain’t right…’
‘Now you listen to me,’ spat Augustus. ‘I am paying you handsomely, so you shall take my orders and accept them without question. Do you understand?’
My heart felt as if it were forcing its way out of my chest, as the red-faced man assured Augustus. ‘Don’t worry, sir. When we’re finished with this Mr Kelly, he won’t be back ’ere again.’
There was a poignant silence amongst everyone for a few moments, followed by charged voices in the appalled crowd.
Alex Lapley slid his eyes left and right.
Eliza gathered herself together and rested the letter on top of the diary.
She began to read aloud.
My dear friend Amelia,
Words cannot express my grateful thanks for your kind and selfless offer. Do you not realise what danger you are placing yourself in? I cannot comprehend losing Gideon for ever and yet I am torn with remorse and guilt for you.
Are you certain you are agreeable to us meeting at your premises in secret? Please consider carefully before informing me of your final decision, which I will respect with all my heart.
Your faithful friend,
Georgina Lapley
There followed a chorus of excited chatter from the assembled Port Starr locals.
Eliza stood down from the platform, assisted by Mason’s strong arm.
‘Do I have your permission, Mrs Compton, to refer to Georgina’s diary?’
‘It’s Eliza,’ she insisted, ‘and yes, please do.’ She cast her soulful eyes to the crowd staring back at her.
‘I think it’s so important for them to know who the Scarlet Highwayman really was and that he didn’t commit the terrible atrocities he was accused of.
’ Eliza passed the diary to Mason, who turned the pages with great care to avoid inflicting any damage until he located what he was looking for.
Mason regarded the enthralled crowd. ‘In order to save his own life and that of the woman he loved, as well as a boy he regarded as his own, Gideon Kelly left Port Starr.’ Then he hesitated. ‘Or at least, that’s what he led people to believe.’
Mason’s attention turned again to Georgina’s diary entry. From where I was standing, I could see her now familiar handwriting swim across the pages in thick black loops.
‘But that wasn’t the end of the story,’ emphasised Mason in his irresistible Australian drawl.
‘This man, an educated musician and violin tutor to young Oscar, couldn’t bear to say goodbye to the woman he loved.
’ Mason gave me a meaningful look over his shoulder and resumed talking.
‘And that is why he gave up everything, became the Scarlet Highwayman and hid out in the bowels of McKerron Castle. He did what he did for Georgina and Oscar.’