‘Yes. The circumstance of his giving no dinners and keeping only evening company did not escape her observation.’
‘No, I imagine it would not. And she is quite correct – there were a great many evening parties.’ As she spoke these last words a strange look came over Miss Bevan’s face. It was difficult to make it out clearly in the gloomy parlour, but it seemed almost to be…distaste. She clasped her arms about her as if she was cold. ‘At these parties I do not doubt Mr Henderson was well able to display the girls’ accomplishments.’
‘You think he was very anxious to get his daughters married?’
‘What would you suppose to be the motive of a man who has three unmarried women on his hands?’
‘I would indeed suppose it to be matrimony. But…’ Dido studied her companion rather anxiously. She was sitting with her arms clasped across her breast, her eyes troubled and downcast. ‘But the idea does not disgust me as it seems to disgust you.’
‘I am sorry,’ replied Mary, unclasping her arms and trying to smile. ‘In such matters anything contrived or mercenary…’
‘You suspect that Mr Henderson was mercenary and worldly in his schemes?’
Mary coloured. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I believe he was…But I am being foolish! No doubt, Miss Kent, I am merely reminded of my own situation. Like me the Henderson girls were poor and must rely upon their charms and their accomplishments to make their fortunes.’
Dido was concerned by her look of abhorrence. Such extreme delicacy did not promise well for the future happiness of a girl so ill-provided. ‘Marriage,’ she said gently, ‘is generally considered to be the pleasantest preservative from want for women of small fortune.’
‘Yes.’ Mary unclasped her arms, seemed to resolve upon appearing unconcerned. ‘And sometimes I am inclined to agree with the general opinion.’
‘But sometimes you disagree with it?’
‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘sometimes I think that it is better to be a governess – better to be even a teacher in a school – than to…marry a man one does not care for.’
‘I see.’ Dido considered this carefully for several minutes – and remembered too what she had learnt of Miss Bevan’s ‘soul’ in the library. ‘But,’ she said at last, ‘what if one does care for the man? What if one cares for him very much indeed?’
Miss Bevan met her gaze, with an appearance, at least, of calm. ‘To marry for love,’ she said quietly, ‘is a different matter entirely.’
Chapter Eleven
‘Flora,’ said Dido at they dawdled over the sunny breakfast table next morning, ‘what do you know of the Henderson girls who used to live at Knaresborough House?’
‘Nothing at all. I have told you before, the family was already gone from Richmond when we came down from town.’
‘So I suppose you cannot tell me why Mrs Midgely might have disliked them.’
‘Oh yes, I am sure I can tell you that!’ replied Flora eagerly. She set down her teacup. ‘They were, I daresay, pretty.’
‘And you think that was the cause of her dislike?’
‘Most certainly. She was a very jealous wife, you know. When the poor colonel was alive he was scarcely allowed to talk to a pretty girl. Mrs Midgely always avoided the acquaintance of pretty young women.’
‘This argues a very great degree of jealousy. Was she really so very bad?’
‘Oh yes! My dear Dido, you have to remember what a very fine man the colonel was – and he was several years younger than his wife, you know.’
‘I cannot remember him at all. I never met the man.’
‘Oh! But you have only to look at the portrait above the mantelpiece in Mrs Midgely’s parlour to see…’
‘To see what?’
‘Well, to see that he was a great deal more handsome than his wife ever was! It was the most ill-matched marriage in the world!’
‘Mrs Midgely was not pretty when she was young?’
Flora hesitated. ‘Her fortune was too good for her ever to be considered positively plain,’ she said.
‘I see.’
Dido lapsed into thoughtful silence over her egg-shells. And Flora watched her a little uneasily. ‘I am sure I do not understand why you should still be asking so many questions, Dido. Dear Mr Lomax is quite sure that Mrs Midgely can do Mr Lansdale no harm. He does not think that Mr Vane will go to the magistrate – and even if he does…’
‘Well, if, by any ill-chance he does, it might perhaps be a good thing if we were…a little prepared.’
‘Oh well!’ cried Flora, ‘I suppose it can do no harm. Though I declare it is a great shame that you should have so much trouble for nothing.’ She shrugged up her shoulders and began to open the letters which had been left beside her plate.
The room was quiet for a while except for Flora reading out the occasional snatch of news or invitation from her letters – none of which was of much interest to Dido, until the last item. And this was a letter from Sir Joshua Carrisbrook – a letter of supplication.
It seemed that the poor knight and his lady were so plagued with a superfluity of strawberries that they must implore a party of their friends to come to their assistance. If only they would have the goodness to come, gather and eat as much of the troublesome fruit as they could, then they would be rewarded with spruce beer and a cold collation in the dining room of Brooke Manor.
‘So you see,’ smiled Flora, laying down the letter, ‘on Tuesday you will be able to see your delightful Mr Lomax again – and spend a whole day in his company!’
Dido, who had already thought as much herself, endeavoured to look as if the invitation was of no great importance to her. ‘It will be very pleasant to go to Brooke, I am sure,’ she said demurely. ‘I have a great desire to see the new Lady Carrisbrook and to discover whether she is so excessively young and beautiful as she is reported… And of course I shall be glad to see Mr Lomax too.’
Flora laughed and was about to say more, but fortunately for Dido, they were interrupted. The maid announced a visitor and, a moment later, Mrs Midgely hurried into the breakfast room – full of self-importance, and news.
‘My dear Mrs Beaumont, Miss Kent, have you heard? Have you heard what has happened?’
Dido and Flora stared blankly at their visitor. This morning she was dressed in pink, spotted muslin and there were also two spots of pink upon each cheek – one the product of art and one beside it which was the result of emotion.
‘Knaresborough House has been burgled,’ she announced, before they could even gratify her by admitting their ignorance.
‘Burgled!’ they both echoed.
It had occurred to Dido that the news might be connected with that house – though she could not have foreseen burglary. For a moment she was too lost in surprise to say more.
But, in a crisis, Flora could be relied upon to make a well-mannered reply. ‘Oh dear! Oh, how very distressing,’ she cried. ‘I do hope that Mr Lansdale has not lost anything of value.’
‘As to that,’ said Mrs Midgely reluctantly, ‘no, I do not believe that he has. For he was roused by a noise and found the man, Fraser, already in pursuit of the thieves.’ She frowned; two ill-natured little lines appeared above her nose. The spots of natural colour deepened. ‘I do not believe they took anything at all,’ she admitted.
But, thought Dido, she would dearly love to report that Mr Lansdale’s losses were heavy. ‘How did the thieves gain entrance to the house?’ she asked.
‘Through a window in the drawing room,’ said Mrs Midgely eagerly. ‘The window beside the front door. They broke open the catch upon it. And they left in the same way. When Mr Lansdale came into the room the window was wide open and, it seems, Fraser saw them escaping through it. Two big, rough-looking fellows, he says. And a great mess they had left behind them in the drawing room,’ she added brightly. ‘Drawers torn open and things thrown everywhere.’