The Nightingale Legacy (Legacy 2)

26

MISS MARY PATRICIA said, “Please, my lord, our ears are quite capable of taking in talk of this dreadful business. Indeed.” She paused for a long, dramatic moment. “Indeed, my lord, Evelyn just might know something.”

Over a magnificent serving dish of potted venison, which North praised to the heavens, Owen said, “The men in the villages are all up in arms. They say that everything was peaceful and quiet here until—” His voice fell into an abyss.

“It’s quite all right,” North said. “I found Caroline’s aunt’s body at St. Agnes Head. I am the stranger. I don’t blame them for talking.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said quickly, “but that other lady who was killed. My lord, you were nowhere in the vicinity, and it was hoped that that toad Bennett Penrose was.”

“However do you know that, Evelyn?” North said.

Evelyn blushed. It was fascinating, and Caroline could but stare at her. She finally said, “It was Mr. Savory who told me, my lord. A smart fellow he is and ever so nice. He told me he was assisting you in your investigations. He said you were ever such a smart gentleman.”

He did, did he? North thought. He’d told Flash everything was confidential. He gave Evelyn a long look, saw the pitfalls for Flash, and gave it up. Even with her belly protruding, she was a remarkably fine-looking girl. Oh well, it was done.

“I’m sorry to tell you, Evelyn, but the toad Bennett wasn’t here then either. It’s a pity.”

“There was something else, my lord,” Evelyn added.

“Yes?”

“I know that Dr. Treath was a close friend of Mrs. Pelforth.”

“Yes, I know that as well,” North said. “When we found her washed up on the beach, Dr. Treath was very upset. He told me she had been very kind to him after your aunt was killed, Caroline. He was distraught.”

Caroline’s mind raced ahead and she opened her mouth to say something, saw North shake his head, and went back to the delicious buttered peas on her plate.

Owen, oblivious of any pitfalls at all, said, “I say, Dr. Treath was fond of your aunt, Caroline, and then he was fond of Nora Pelforth. Do you think perhaps he’s mad, North? That he likes to jolly up to women and then kill them?”

“No,” North said. “That’s ridiculous. Eat your dinner, Owen. You’re frightening Alice.”

Owen immediately turned to her and patted her hand as if he were her uncle or her father confessor.

But Caroline was thinking: Did Dr. Treath know the woman who was killed some three years ago? What was her name? Oh yes, Elizabeth Godolphin.

North looked up to see Tregeagle, Coombe, and Polgrain all standing in the doorway. “Yes?” he said.

Tregeagle cleared his throat and said, “Er, my lord, we were just attending to what the Young Female was saying. We are telling all those buffoons that to believe you culpable of anything at all untoward is ridiculous.”

“I thank you,” North said. “Have you perhaps other duties that need your attention?”

“There are always duties in a dwelling this large, my lord. In addition, with so very many people now in residence, the duties have multiplied alarmingly.”

Caroline said, “Shall I have Mrs. Mayhew—”

“Not at all,” Coombe said quickly. “We will contrive. We always have, even under the most desperate and strained circumstances.”

“My admiration for the three of you constantly assumes even more amazing proportions,” North said. “Oh, Polgrain, the round of beef is excellent. The dumplings are tasty, as is the turtle soup.”

“Since you are pleased, my lord, it is enough.”

North merely nodded, caught his wife’s eye, and smiled widely at his chef. “Actually, it seems that everything her ladyship requests is quite to my liking, Polgrain.”

“One will assume, then, that the result is what we should prefer, my lord.”

To everyone’s surprise, Alice said, “I think the oxtail soup be, er, is very good, Mr. Polgrain.”

A spasm crossed Polgrain’s face. He said, looking directly at the rather ugly epergne in the middle of the table, “It is the maturity of the cloves that makes the difference. His lordship isn’t fond of oxtail soup.”