Lomax shook his head. ‘It is a fantastic – an impossible tale! That a lady of such standing should take on the post of country governess …’
‘It may be fantastic to a man,’ said Dido with quiet feeling, ‘but I believe it would fall within the comprehension of many women: we have so little power over our own destiny, Mr Lomax, we slip so easily from comfort – even luxury – into poverty. We have so little that we can truly call our own …’ She sat for a moment looking down at her own hands folded in her lap.
And he watched her in silence, the telltale muscle in his cheek moving slightly in the way it always did when he was forcing himself to hold back words.
‘Consider the situation of a woman such as Lady Congreve,’ said Dido at last. ‘A woman who finds herself living in fear of her husband’s violent temper. She has no power, no right even to remove herself, much less take any wealth with her. Even a viscountess might be compelled to seek employment in such an extremity.’
‘Well,’ he conceded with a heavy sigh, ‘Congreve’s vicious nature would certainly have made concealment necessary for his poor wife.’
‘You believe then that I am right?’
‘Ah! I did not quite say that,’ he cried hastily. ‘I admit that there are evidences in support of your theory; however there are also arguments against it.’
‘Indeed? And what are they?’
‘Principally the character of Lady Congreve. She was, by all accounts, a very religious woman …’
‘And so was Elinor Fenn,’ countered Dido quickly. ‘I am by no means suggesting that the lady changed her character with her name. Indeed, I rather consider Her Ladyship’s piety to be a point in my favour. For I believe there is evidence of scruples. Consider the verse in the Bible which had been underlined. It was the second part of the commandment which was so very important to her. St Paul begins by demanding obedience from women; but he then insists upon a man’s kindly treatment of his wife. And I believe Lady Congreve found comfort in considering that, by his abominable behaviour, His Lordship had been the first to break the sacred pact of matrimony.’
But still he insisted upon disbelief. ‘It would all have involved such a degree of calculation,’ he objected, ‘not only upon the part of Lady Congreve, but of others too. Compassion, I believe, is rarely carried to such extremes.’
‘But,’ she said, ‘there is one circumstance which might have made Lady Congreve’s friends particularly willing to assist her. You see, she was with child when she left her husband; and I believe this provides whatever explanation is still wanting for her desperate scheme – and her friends’ compliance in it. If it was feared that her husband’s vicious conduct not only threatened her own safety, but also put at risk the life of the child she carried, might not very religious, moral people feel that the highest duty was to protect that young life?’
He considered her words in silence. Meanwhile the noises about them were becoming louder. The old staircase of the inn was in such constant and heavy use now that the panelled walls of their parlour were shaking a little. Harriet, Lucy and Silas must soon make their appearance.
‘Have I convinced you, Mr Lomax?’ she ventured to ask.
But he avoided admitting the force of her arguments. ‘And do you believe that Congreve discovered his wife – and exacted a terrible revenge for her desertion?’ he asked.
She would have dearly loved to make him acknowledge defeat. It would have been delightful to have him admit the superiority of her reasoning – but, unfortunately, it was an indulgence for which she had no time.
‘No,’ she said in a great hurry, ‘I do not think that His Lordship was the murderer. For I am quite sure that Laurence carried out his investigations in order to please his influential friend. I believe the two men met about two months ago and, when Laurence heard the tale of his new acquaintance’s divorce, he remembered the coming of the governess to Madderstone. That is what prompted him to begin his enquiries.’
‘I see.’
Harriet and Silas could now be heard talking on the landing.
‘And all this,’ Dido ran on hurriedly, ‘argues for Lord Congreve wishing for information about the fate of his wife – and that of course rather rules out his having murdered her.’
‘That is soundly reasoned,’ he acknowledged. ‘But if Congreve is not the murderer, then who is it that you suspect? And why should you believe Congreve’s latest commission to Laurence to be so dangerous, if he only wishes for the business to be covered up?’
A hand turned the lock of the parlour door. ‘Because,’ Dido said urgently, ‘Lady Congreve was a remarkably clever woman. I have been thinking it all over for half the night, and I believe that Captain Laurence has not yet discovered her most dangerous secret. And it is,’ she added, ‘of the greatest importance that he never does discover it. That is why he must not be allowed to find the missing letters.’
Harriet and Silas were actually in the room now; but, fortunately, they were too busy arguing over whether Silas should wear a flannel waistcoat for the journey to take any notice of the couple in the window seat. Lomax leant close and, in his anxiety, laid his hand upon Dido’s arm. ‘Why?’ he whispered. ‘What do you fear the letters might reveal?’
‘I fear they will reveal that His Lordship is mistaken in thinking his wife stole nothing from him. You see, Mr Lomax, I believe that when Lady Congreve left her husband’s house she defied those laws which said she could take nothing. She took with her something of very great value indeed – something which was the cause of her death. And, if her husband ever discovers that she robbed him, he will stop at nothing to retrieve his property.’
‘Good God! Explain yourself, please! I do not like to see you involving yourself with the affairs of such a man as Congreve. I would advise against it if I dared, but I fear my very opposition would make you more determined …’ Without his knowing it, the pressure of his fingers on her arm increased and their urgent warmth moved her more than any words of persuasion.
‘But I cannot explain it yet,’ she answered regretfully, ‘for I do not yet understand it all myself. I must send a message to Great Farleigh immediately; and I need to find out who stole the letters and the ring; and I must look again at the pieces of gold and silver which were taken from the lake …’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The last hour in Bath passed in a muddle of rapidly packed boxes and conflicting anxieties. Dido knew not whether to worry most about Captain Laurence speeding towards Madderstone ahead of them, or the ideas which were swarming through her head – or the effect which the communication of those ideas had had upon Mr Lomax.
And, at the end, the drawing up of the chaise at the door took her entirely by surprise and she ran down the stairs into the dark passageway with a band-box in her hand and the ribbons of her bonnet still untied – to find Lomax himself waiting for her in the gloom.
With an urgency which was surprising – but not entirely unpleasant – he seized her free hand and drew her around the end of the screen. The public parlour – a black-beamed room with high settles and smoke-yellowed plaster – was empty now, but for an old grey deerhound stretched out upon the dirty flags in a patch of sunlight. Mr Lomax took the band-box from her and set it down on a table scarred with the notches made to reckon card games and the sticky rings of tankards.
‘Miss Kent,’ he said quickly, ‘you must take great care that Congreve does not know what you are about. He is a vile man. You cannot conceive what he is capable of.’
‘I have seen that young woman’s face.’ she said quietly, ‘I can believe him capable of any evil. But do not fear. If all goes well, he will suspect nothing – he will continue to have no interest in Madderstone. And if all does not go well …’ She hesitated. ‘If Captain Laurence succeeds in finding the letters, then there may be danger – but not for me. It is someone else who will be at risk.’