Chapter 22

On his return to The New Bell Inn, Sir James invited Mr. Ramsay and Mr. Stackpoole to dine with him in his private parlor.

“Mr. Stackpoole, I’m pleased to see you recovered,” James said as Young Stackpoole eased into a chair at the table.

“As am I!” he responded. “I cannot believe my father would do such a thing to keep me from meeting Mr. Montgomery. He is violently opinionated; however, I never would have thought he would have gone to such extremes as to make me sick. I have lost my father and that saddens me.”

“I believe it would sadden anyone,” James solemnly acknowledged.

Mr. Ramsay nodded. He took a sip of ale. “Ah gather from this invitation this evening you have some news to share, Sir James?”

“I do. There was a witness to some of the events that occurred after Lord Soothcoor left Camden Hall.”

“A witness?” Mr. Ramsay repeated.

“A child who I believe is ten, from what I remember of her family.”

“There is a child patient at Camden Hall? That isn’t right,” Mr. Stackpoole said.

“No, it’s not right, but she is there. Her name is Lydia Wingate.”

“What is wrong with her that she is at Camden Hall?”

“A mentally ill person will be a suspect witness afore a judge,” Mr. Ramsay warned. He crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pulling his features together.

“She is not—in any way—mentally ill. She has a prominent wine-colored birthmark on her face that her mother does not like to look at and—as she is looking for a new husband—does not like others to see she birthed a child with such a deformity.”

“Would that be Lady Millicent Wingate? The widow of Lord Edmund Wingate?” Mr. Stackpoole asked.

James nodded. “The child is bright. If Lady Millicent didn’t want to see her, she should have put the girl in a school.”

“Except that such a school sends their students home during the summer term.”

“And that would not have suited Lady Millicent,” James acknowledged.

“I think I read in the society papers that she has followed Prinny’s entourage to Brighton for the summer,” Mr. Stackpoole said.

“I’m sure the child’s father’s cousin, the Duke of Ellinbourne, will take her in. What we need to concern ourselves with is what she saw.” James told them about the argument she heard.

Mr. Ramsay leaned back in his chair. “The magistrate should take her statement.”

“There is a woman at Camden House, a Mrs. Vance?—”

“Ah remember Mrs. Vance. She signed Mr. Montgomery’s will. Smart woman, that one,” Mr. Ramsay said.

“Yes. She suggested Mr. Ratcliffe invested the Montgomery estate in Camden House.”

“If he did that, he would not want the executorship to go to another person.”

“No. If Soothcoor were found guilty he could argue he should remain the executor.”

“Yes, that is what the ladies think.”

“You are thinking we should notify Squire Eccleston that there is a witness?”

“I am.”

“Given his attitude this morning, do you think he’d do anything?”

“I think we give this over to the ladies to handle.”

“The ladies?”

“Yes. Mr. Ramsay, you will write to Mrs. Vance, Mr. Stackpoole, you will write to your mother, and I shall write to my wife.”

“To what purpose?”

“To suggest the interview at Camden House.”

“Why three letters?”

“So, between them, they can decide whose letter may be discovered.—Or if more than one should be.”

“Discovered, why?”

“To ensure the attendance of all parties.”

“Might this put the child in danger?”

“We will be there, too.”

“They won’t let us in.”

“No, they won’t. We can sneak in through Mr. Montgomery’s room.”

“Isn’t that kept locked?”

“Yes, but Liddy showed my wife where an extra key is hidden. We can take advantage of that knowledge.”

Mr. Stackpoole quickly stood up. “I’ll get paper, ink, and quills from Mr. Price!” he said.

“Request some Scotch whisky, too” Mr. Ramsay called after him. “We need somethin’ stronger to toast with,” he said.

Mr. Stackpoole laughed and agreed as he went out the door.

Cecilia was laughingand trying to hold back a cough when the majordomo approached them in the library after dinner. They were having a light, herbal tisane that was Camden House’s specialty for an evening beverage, before curfew called all the residents to go to their beds. He had letters for Julia, Mrs. Vance, and two for her. They looked at each other in questioning surprise, but eagerly opened their letters.

Mrs. Vance finished first. A deep frown pulled her brows together. She sat straighter in her chair as she carefully refolded her letter and held it in her lap.

After reading her first letter, Cecilia set it aside. James, in his letter to her, said all letters the ladies received conveyed the same information. Obviously, Mrs. Vance did not like the suggestion proposed. Cecilia picked up her second letter and slid her finger under the seal. This letter was shorter, and she was the only woman to receive a second letter. Cecilia read it carefully.

My dear delight,

By now I hope all have read their letters. Our messages are alike, each in our own voice. My request now is for either Lady Stackpoole or Mrs. Vance to accidently leave their letter behind to be found. As stated in our letters to you, we are requesting the magistrate come to Camden House tomorrow morning to examine Miss Lydia Wingate. How much he will believe her is unknown and might be inconsequential. Mr. Ratcliffe, Mr. Turnbull-Minchin, and Dr. Worcham will have no way of knowing how much she heard or saw the night Mr. Montgomery died. We know, we know what she knows is enough to counter their words that he died at the hands of Soothcoor.

We will not be leaving you to face the villains alone. We will come to Camden House and enter through Mr. Montgomery’s room. If you might convince them to have the examination done in either the parlor where we met with Dr. Worcham, or in the library, we can be waiting outside the door to lend support when it is required, as I’m sure it will be.

James

“Gracious,” Cecilia said. She handed the second letter from James to Mrs. Vance to read.

“Ah, now I understand,” said Mrs. Vance. She handed the letter to Julia. “I will leave my letter behind. Such a forgetful old woman I am.” She smiled conspiratorially.

“We will need to tell Liddy what is going on and what is expected of her,” Cecilia said.

“How are we to ensure they allow us in the room with Liddy when she is questioned?” Julia asked.

Cecilia’s lips compressed. “I think we just enter. We remind the men Liddy is a child and children are easily frightened. She needs the support of those she knows if she is to feel confident to tell the truth.”

“If we tell Liddy to have a nasty child’s tantrum if we are not allowed in, she will do so with great noise,” Mrs. Vance said.

Cecilia smiled. “I suppose she would.”

“I don’t like this,” Julia said. “That is a great deal of pressure to put on a young child who has been abandoned.”

“What Liddy has in her favor is she knows what love is, she experienced it with her father, even if her mother could not have it for her, and she knows we love her. That gives a child resiliency. And she is very smart.”

“I suppose,” said Julia, continuing to be troubled.

“And I’ve spoken to Mr. Quetal about the book we want him to examine,” Cecilia said.

The curfew bell rang. Those in the room with them began putting away books and games. Mrs. Vance made a show of busily gathering up her shawl and reticule, which she carried everywhere with her. The reticule slipped out of her grasp and as she bent to retrieve it, she dropped her letter on the chair seat as she pulled her shawl back up over her shoulder. “I don’t know why I carry my reticule with me everywhere, I am forever dropping it,” she said aloud as she turned away from her chair.

Cecilia saw the letter on the chair. She took Mrs. Vance’s arm in hers and walked slowly to the library door. “You don’t need to carry one here, but I admit your reticules match your dresses so well, don’t you agree, Julia?” Cecilia prattled.

“La! Mrs. Vance has been stunningly well coordinated in her attire ever since I’ve known her,” Julia enthused.

Mrs. Vance preened at the compliments until she saw Liddy still at the puzzle table. “Liddy, child, it is time for bed. You can finish your puzzle tomorrow. Come away now.”

“Yes, Mrs. Vance,” Liddy said regretfully.

“No one will touch it,” Mrs. Vance assured her.

“Yes, miss,” agreed the young maid who entered the library. “Matron told me to fetch you.”

“Bother,” Liddy grumbled, though she went with the maid.

“Good,” said Cecilia softly. “At least we will know where she will be.” She stared after her. “I think we should fetch her early.”

Mrs. Vance nodded. “I wake early. I will do so. No one should think anything of me doing so.”

“Thank you.”

The ladies were the last to leave the library. “I’ll need to bring the storybook back here early,” Cecilia said quietly.

“The storybook?” Julia asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Vance would say I was quite naughty,” she said with a smile.

“Cecilia, what have you done?” Mrs. Vance asked with mock severity.

“Let’s just say the storybook now tells a different tale, a tale I’m hoping Mr. Quetal can read.”