Death at Dartmoor by Robin Paige

Death at Dartmoor by Robin Paige

Author:Robin Paige [Paige, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Robin Paige


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

All tragedies are finished by a death.

Lord Byron

Death always comes too early or too late.

English proverb

Lady Duncan did indeed break down under the brutal news of her husband's death, although Mr. Garrett did all he could to spare her feelings. In fact, Kale thought that the vicar's first delicate telling of the tale was terribly muddled and incomplete, for he unfortunately failed to make clear exactly how or where Sir Edgar had died, intending, perhaps, to soften the truth by revealing it by degrees. For all that could be understood from his story, Sir Edgar might have suffered a stroke at a London railway station or met with an accident on the road.

Lady Duncan's disbelief and astonishment at the news that her husband was dead turned quite naturally into a violent fit of weeping, which was gradually calmed by her maid's deft application of salts and Kate's offer of brandy.

When Lady Duncan was partially recovered, she lay back on the sofa in her private apartments, her face quite pale.

"It does seem such a mystery," she said wanly. "Sir Edgar had gone, I thought. to London. And then I received his letter from Yelverton." Her glance went to Kate, who patted her hand. "And to die so suddenly," she said sadly, "before we could resolve our differences." She turned to the vicar. "Where is it that he died, Mr. Garrett?"

The vicar glanced helplessly at Kate, who, feeling that some clarity must be brought to the situation, replied, "Sir Edgar's body was found on the moor, Lady Duncan. Near Chagford, not far from here."

Lady Duncan's dark eyes widened disbelievingly. "On the moor? But that's not possible! He wrote to me from Yelverton! He was going to--"

She began to weep, her tears mixed with words spoken so distractedly that Kate could not make them out. At last she seemed to gain some control over herself and said, wretchedly, "Forgive me, Lady Sheridan, but I cannot lie, not even for the sake of appearances. My husband betrayed me for another woman, with whom he planned to leave the country. I thought that was the worst of all possible tragedies. But now I learn that he has died!"

"Of course," Kate said comfortingly. "You cannot be blamed for being distraught." Over Lady Duncan's shoulder, on the table behind the sofa, she glimpsed a large wed

. ding photograph of Sir Edgar and his new wife, a fairly recent photograph, judging from the ages of the bride and groom. It hadn't taken long, Kate thought sadly, for the marriage to go to pieces. Lady Duncan looked from one of them to the other, holding out her hand beseechingly. "You have not said how my husband died. Was he ... was he stricken suddenly?

Tell me, please, I must know. However badly he has behaved toward me, I pray, oh I pray that he did not suffer."

Kate appealed wordlessly to the vicar, but one glance was enough to see that he was of no use at all in this situation.



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