‘Excuse me,’ Guin said to Theo who was sitting next to her. ‘I have a slight headache. I must step outside for some fresh air, I think.’ She gestured to the gentlemen to resume their seats and stopped beside Bella’s chair. ‘Would you be so kind as to show me how to get out onto the terrace, Lady Ravenlaw? Perhaps we could stroll for a few minutes.’

‘Of course.’ Bella stood and went to the door. ‘We can go out this way.’

They paced along the terrace side by side for a while, then Guin said, ‘Is Mrs Quenten quite well, do you think? She seems strangely subdued to me.’

‘She lost her brother some time ago. It affected her deeply.’ Bella did not look at Guin.

‘How sad.’

‘I think you would describe him as somewhat of a loose screw,’ Bella added drily. ‘I never met him.’

They reached the edge of the terrace and turned. ‘But they lost their parents young and Lettie was more a mother to him than anything and she doted on him,’ Bella continued. The amusement had gone now. ‘She is a fiercely loyal woman. Her brother, her sons – I think she would do anything for them.’

Does she suspect? Is she afraid that her friend has stepped over the boundary into obsession and murder? ‘That can be admirable, if not carried to extremes.’

‘Yes.’ They walked on a few more steps. ‘It is very lonely here,’ Bella said abruptly. ‘Sometimes it gives me the shivers. One makes friends where one can.’

‘Allerton Grange belongs to Theo now. I have to admit to being quite pleased that I can retreat to London and leave it to him to decide whether to come up here in the winter.’

‘They say… Forgive me, but the rumours… They say he – ’

‘Murdered my husband and is having an affaire with me? No, neither of those things are true. If they were I would not need a bodyguard,’ she added, watching to see what the reaction to that would be.

‘But I thought my father-in-law said the problems you had been having were not serious, that they are more like practical jokes than attacks.’

‘The kind of practical jokes that could go seriously wrong very easily, jokes involving firearms and explosives,’ Guin said drily. ‘And then when we were coming back from Whitby, that day when you and Jared met, there was a serious attempt to kill all of us.’

‘Surely not?’ Bella stopped short of the balustrade and took Guin by the forearm. ‘Surely not.’

‘I do not know how else you would categorise weakening the axle and damaging the brakes on a carriage about to travel fully loaded over that road.’

‘But that is…’

‘Not a practical joke, no. Difficult to know who would have reason to dislike me so much. Although I suppose this latest attack may have been aimed at Lord Ravenlaw.’

‘Why would anyone want to attack Jared?’ Bella released her arm and went lean on the balustrade and look out over the moorland beyond the walls.

‘Hard to say. Of course, sometimes when people do something despicable to another person then they grow to hate the victim as a way of managing their own guilt.’

‘That is directed at me, is it not?’ Bella still did not turn. She gave a twist of her shoulders, a kind of shrug. ‘You are quite right of course. I was young and selfish and so very angry that I could not have what I thought I wanted because the Earl looked down on my family.’

‘Were you happy when you had it?’

‘Not very.’ Bella did turn then.

Perhaps she is talking to me because I am showing no hostility, simply a cool curiosity, Guin thought. And perhaps she really is lonely. If her only friend is a bitter and grieving woman obsessed with her dead brother, then who will help Bella?

‘William was just as young and just as selfish as I was. And then I could not give him sons, so both he and his father despised me. And Jack, Jared, hates me, doesn’t he?’

‘You would have to ask him. He was very badly hurt by both his father and his brother, I can tell that. But I do not know if you were important enough to him for what you did to hurt enough for hate.’

‘You do not need to carry a rapier, do you?’ The lovely curve of Bella’s mouth twisted into an ugly line. ‘That was as good a stab wound as Jared could inflict.’

‘I am not sure whether Jared is capable of hate. I think he has had long enough to come to terms with what happened, but you could apologise and see what happens,’ Guin suggested.

Bella raised her eyebrows. ‘Apologise? For something as bad as that?’

‘Why not? You have the nerve, I imagine, and you aren’t happy now, it might help.’

‘Why are you being so kind to me?’ Bella’s mouth trembled, became beautiful again, vulnerable. She bit down on it and the familiar expression of bored disdain returned.

‘Because I know what it is to be young and foolish and alone. To be full of regrets. To be lonely.’

‘Will you be my friend when you are mistress here? When you marry Jared?’

‘When I – I am not going to marry him. I am quite unsuitable for the heir to an earldom.’ And that was tactless, Guin.

‘After me? The Earl will accept you and be thankful. Besides, I doubt anyone says no to Jared these days. The way he looks at you makes what he wants quite clear.’

‘He looks at me because he is guarding me.’

‘He is in love with you. If I am right, will you be my friend or will you take his side?’

‘If – I am your friend now if you make your peace with him.’ Could she trust the other woman or was this sudden display of trust a way of putting Guin off her guard, allowing Elizabeth’s ally close access?

‘I will try. Lady Northam – ’

‘Guin.’

‘Guin, be careful. You know who is behind these attacks on you, don’t you? No.’ She held up a hand. ‘Don’t say anything. Why should you trust me? Just be careful and I will try to return the friendship you have offered me.’ She turned before Guin could reply, walked rapidly across the terrace, the wind tossing the ends of her hair and the ribbons of her dress, her arms tight around her body as though she was holding in her unhappiness by sheer force.

The door opened as Bella approached and Jared stepped out. He had been watching them, Guin realised. Watching her. Bella stopped dead, half turned as though to push past him and then hesitated, raised her head to look him full in the face. Guin saw her lips move, but she could not hear what she said. Jared shook his head, then smiled, nodded and said something.

Bella covered her face with one hand for a second then turned, wrenched open the door before Jared could reach it and vanished inside.

He walked slowly across the terrace to Guin. ‘What did she say to you?’ she asked as soon as he reached her side.

‘Do you hate me?’

‘What did you say?’

‘No. Then she asked me if I could forgive her and I said yes. It was not a complicated exchange and I presume I can owe it to you?’

She could not tell whether he was glad or whether he resented her interference. ‘She needs a friend. Whether she would be repentant and want forgiveness if her marriage had been happy, who can tell? Perhaps she would be a different woman if that had happened. I hope we can trust her, because she seems to be suspicious and uneasy about Elizabeth Quenten and if that is not part of a subtle plot, then she may be a great help to us.’

‘You are right. And thank you for trying, whether or not she is sincere. It does neither of us any good to have that cloud from the past.’ He looked down at her, his eyes dark with thoughts that did not seem pleasant. ‘She was unhappy with Will, you say?’

‘He was the sort of man who betrays his own brother. How do you think he would be as a husband?’

‘Hell.’ Jared linked his arm through hers and strolled to the end of the terrace and the view. ‘All that to secure a love match and they end up trapped together by the marriage they thought they wanted.’

‘I did not know you are a romantic about marriage.’

‘Did you not?’ He spoke absently, his gaze seemingly fixed on the horizon.

And yet he proposes that I marry him and does not speak of love. Why not? Because he does not love me, I suppose. If I tell him how I feel about him, what will he do? Tell me the truth or lie?

 

‘What do we do now?’ Guinevere asked briskly, as though they had been speaking of nothing other than practicalities. When this business was over he would woo her seriously if she would allow him to. He had never felt like this about a lover before but then he had never had a countess in his bed and he could not tell whether it was the thought of Society’s pressures that made him so certain that they should marry, or something else.

Romance. Love? What do I know about that? What I observe, which is Cal and Sophie. Cal has changed, his whole focus has shifted. So has mine, but then so has my life. Guinevere –

‘Are you in a trance?’

That was sharp enough to cure unconsciousness. ‘No. Thinking.’

‘What is the plan for this evening?’ Guinevere was unhappy about something, he knew her well enough by now to tell that. There was plenty of reasons for her to be so, but Jared had an uncomfortable feeling that it was his fault, whatever it was. He had thought he had enough experience of women to understand them, but he was learning he was wrong. Or rather, when it came to the woman he was beginning to care deeply about, he was.

‘This evening.’ He wrenched his mind back to the problem in hand: keeping this woman alive, which was rather more urgent than wondering what was going on in her head or what he felt about her.

‘We need to bring up the subject of Thomas Bainton, drive a wedge of suspicion in between him and his real employer,’ he said. ‘I do not believe he is far away and this house is easy enough to get into – I doubt anyone has improved the locks since the seventeenth century but with a bit of work we can secure most of them and leave a vulnerable point we can watch. We need him and Mrs Quenten together, talking in front of witnesses, and the more agitated she is – if that woman ever does get agitated – the better.

‘Theo is doing an excellent job of appearing to have rather more enthusiasm than tact or wit. We’ll get him to start the ball rolling.’ But he was going to keep Theo out of this as much as possible. As a suspect the less he was involved the better and, if Jared was wrong about him, then the more he knew the more dangerous he was. He only hoped that faint nagging suspicion would go away, it would cause Guinevere huge distress if Theo proved treacherous. It was one hell of a balancing act.

 

‘May I carve you some beef, Mrs Quenten? It looks excellent.’ Theo laid slices of sirloin on his neighbour’s plate and looked round the table. ‘Anyone else? Oh yes, thank you, Ravenlaw, I will take some of the capon. You’ve a fine cook, Huntingford.’ He accepted the bowl of peas, helped Mrs Quenten to some and passed them along. ‘Difficult business, finding good staff. I’ve inherited a mixed lot from my father, I must say. The most useless set of footmen in creation.’

Jared watched Elizabeth Quenten under the pretext of paying close attention to Theo. ‘I was fortunate when I wanted a gentleman’s gentleman, but he was a recommendation from Calderbrook’s man.’

‘The famous Flynn, the valet every gentleman in Town wants to poach! Not that I need a valet, just some reliable footmen.’

‘Reliable is the word,’ Guinevere put in rather tartly as she nodded her thanks to Jared for a slice of the capon he had carved. ‘We had been very pleased with that footman who came to us from you, Mrs Quenten – Thomas Bainton, if you recall him – but the wretched man has disappeared.’

‘A better offer perhaps,’ Mrs Quenten said, her tone colourless.

‘But why not offer his notice and receive his pay owing? I think there is something shady about it. I must check the silver again when we get back to Allerton,’ Guinevere added darkly.

‘I think there’s more to it than that.’ Jared said. ‘I find it too coincidental that he vanishes the day the carriage wheel and brake were interfered with.’

‘What? You don’t think he’s the person behind the attacks, do you?’ Theo put down his wine glass with a thump, apparently ignoring Jared’s gestures to be quiet. ‘My God – I beg your pardon ladies – you’ve had the killer under your roof all this time!’

‘What killer?’ Sir Andrew, set down his knife and fork and stared around the table. ‘What is this?’

Guinevere explained. Bella, Jared noticed, became even paler, Mr Quenten showed every sign of interest, shock and animation and his wife looked as though they were discussing the price of mackerel.

‘The man will talk once you get your hands on him,’ Sir Andrew said. ‘Unless he’s a maniac there will be someone behind him, that’s for sure. Catch him, put him in the hands of a man with the knack for interrogation and between fear of a beating and the inducement of transportation rather than the noose, he’ll spill the lot. I’ve a friend amongst the magistrates in Westminster and he knows a Runner or two who have skill in extracting information.’

‘We are alarming the ladies,’ Jared said. ‘They can have no idea how brutal and effective such questionings can be. But that aside, once we find him the evidence will follow. We have dates, we have places and a mountain of circumstantial evidence to bury him under. Since the incident with the carriage I have been putting the pieces together. All we have to do is lay our hands on Bainton.’ He glanced around the table. ‘I have already put measures in place to hunt him.’

‘Confoundedly distressing for you, Mrs Quenten,’ his father observed. ‘Old family servant of yours and so on. Any indications that he was unreliable?’

‘None,’ she said coldly. ‘I have always found him most loyal.’

I’ll wager you have, Jared thought. ‘But let us speak of more pleasant subjects. I understand you have a racehorse that is favoured for the next York meeting, Sir Andrew.’

The conversation turned to racing and to horses in general. Quenten looked quite at his ease, Jared thought, more and more convinced that the man had no idea what his wife was about.

With dessert finished Bella rose from her seat at the foot of the table and the other ladies followed her out. There was an immediate air of relaxation, as though the five men had all freed several waistcoat buttons. Even Quenten seemed to relax in the absence of his wife. The butler placed the decanters and nuts on the table and, obedient to a wave of the Earl’s hand, ushered out the footmen.

Jared sat back, poured himself a glass of port as the decanter passed and did his best not to worry that Guinevere was alone with Lettie Quenten and Bella with her uncertain loyalties. Dover was helping to bring in the tea tray and he would lurk discreetly, but even so he was glad when his father got to his feet after only two glasses.

‘Shall we rejoin the ladies?’

 

Time for the next little nudge. Jared nodded to his father and the Earl and Sir Andrew strolled across the drawing room until they were behind, but at a little distance, from the sofa where Mrs Quenten sat silent beside Bella.

Sir Andrew gave an exclamation and turned towards the Earl. ‘I’ll forget my own name one of these days. Huntingford, I’ve a confession – I‘ve done something to the lock on that little sitting room door – the one out onto the terrace. Don’t know what, must have leaned on the handle too hard. Meant to mention it to you earlier and it’s a bit late for a locksmith now.’ He was speaking quietly, but his voice had a certain penetrating clarity.

‘Oh, that door is always a problem, I meant to have the entire lock changed. It’s stiff enough to hold closed for the moment, I’ve no doubt.’ The Earl beckoned for a footman. ‘Durrant, make sure you turn the key on the corridor side of the small sitting room door tonight, that’ll be safe enough. There’s nothing of any value in there,’ he added to Sir Andrew.

His father’s mutterings were never exactly discreet, Jared thought appreciatively. He had not heard what was said, only read it on the Earl’s lips but he was sure Mrs Quenten would have been able to hear. He just hoped they were not being too obvious setting up their trap, but he suspected she was too obsessed to be wary. He kept on talking to Theo whom he had manoeuvred round so that he had his back to the room.

Bella poured tea, Sir Andrew seated himself beside Mrs Quenten and made valiant attempts at conversation. Theo wandered over and kept up a stream of superficial chatter about sporting matters with the Earl while Jared leaned over the back of his father’s chair, dropped in the occasional comment and watched the room. Guinevere was left to talk to Mr Quenten who darted nervous glances at his wife whenever Guinevere laughed or leaned closer to him.

Under the cat’s paw, Jared thought. Poor devil. Either he has no idea what his Lettie’s about, and he seems dull enough for that to be possible, or he has been dragooned into at least complacence, if not actual involvement.

Mrs Quenten stood up. ‘I shall retire, if you will excuse me. Bella dear, how may I go out onto the terrace? I cannot sleep unless I have taken a short stroll in the fresh air.’

‘This way.’ Bella stood up and led the way. ‘I will go up myself when I have shown you. Good night, everyone.’

Dover opened the door then slipped through behind them carrying a tray of dirty cups. He was followed shortly afterward by Theo, yawning and apologetic.

Dover was back ten minutes later with a jug of hot water to refresh the tea urn and Jared strolled casually across the room to speak to him under cover of handing over his own cup.

‘She sent her ladyship away, said she would only be a minute and she was. I pretended to just come along as she came back in and went to lock the door but I had a look outside once she was clear. There’s a small cairn of white pebbles by that sitting room door.’

Jared released a breath he had not been aware he was holding. ‘Hooked.’

‘I’d say so, sir. My lord, I mean.’

‘Sir will do.’ It was taking getting used to. So far Jared had failed to respond to at least three members of staff using his title until they repeated themselves. ‘I’ll be up within half an hour. Tell Sir Andrew.’

Dover took himself off, holding the door for Sir Andrew to leave. Mr Quenten announced that he would be to his rest and within minutes Jared was alone with his father and Guinevere. ‘My bed chamber, sir. Guinevere, I suggest you go to your room, keep Faith with you and lock the door.’

‘You may suggest what you like, but I am joining your council of war, Jared.’ She smiled at his father who beamed back at her. The old devil approved of Lady Northam, it seemed.