05 Murder At the Country House by Jane Adams

Author:Jane Adams
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: , Mystery, Retired, &, (Fictitious, Character), Detective, Fiction, Martin, McGregor, Sleuths, Sebastian, Rina, Women
Publisher: Soundings, Limited
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

Aikensthorpe, 1872:

D

r Pym had left the house that night with something like despair in his heart. He had never seen Albert so angry, and nothing Pym had been able to say had assuaged that rage.

At the crux of it, Pym realized, was not that Elizabeth had sought to deceive them, or even that she had accused Spinelli – a man Pym had been certain was innocent until this night. It was that Elizabeth had not only acted in opposition to Albert’s wishes, but had also done so in such a public manner.

Had she spoken to Albert about her suspicions, or, better still, confided in him earlier, then Pym was certain he could have convinced Albert to look at the matter again. He just had to hope that a new day might bring clarity and calm, and he had promised Elizabeth that he would return the following day to speak to them both once more.

He knew that Albert had other ideas though. That Pym had seemed to take Elizabeth’s side had incensed him, and angry words had passed between the old friends that Pym knew would take more than a good night’s sleep to forgive and forget.

‘She says that George Weston convinced her to do this,’ Pym had said. He had realized immediately that this was a big mistake.

‘George would do no such thing. This is a female foolishness, hysteria. Jealousy.’

‘Your wife is jealous of what, Albert?’ Pym tried to sound reasonable. He being one of only a handful of people who knew the truth about George Weston, he knew that Albert was oddly protective of this illegitimate son of his. ‘Your wife knows nothing of that unfortunate liaison. You were young. Foolish, perhaps. But you have always done right by the child.’

‘And you have always disapproved of my bringing him here.’

‘Not exactly disapproved, no. I admit I thought it unwise.’

‘Unwise.’ Albert’s tone was cold.

Pym had sought to justify his view, and the argument had turned nasty. Pym did not want to think of it. Instead of remaining for the night, he had called for his horse and chosen to leave before his host demanded it of him. Pym’s only regret now was that he had passed no words of comfort to the poor young woman sitting on the stairs. Her eyes as she watched him leave seemed to follow him still, even as he rode from the house and towards the wood.

He would give Albert a few days to cool his temper and then return. They had been friends since boyhood; surely a little female foolishness could not come between them so irreparably.

‘She has brought scandal upon my house,’ Albert had said. ‘Do you think those who were here tonight will remain silent? My name will become the object of ridicule, and you may be certain that scoundrel Spinelli will use all of this to his advantage. He could sue for slander and claim with justification he had a lawyer witness it.’

Poor Elizabeth, Pym thought. Young and foolish and so

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