A Death for King and Country (4 page)

Chapter Six

In which Bertram, as ever, causes problems –
and before he has even arrived

I made what plans I could. I managed to liberate some of Richenda’s older items of clothing.
[6]
 I simply rooted through her wardrobe when she was tending to Amy and removed a few articles that were by now far too small.

Richenda, if she thought anything about it at all, would assume that either her new lady’s maid, a severe woman named Trevors with whom I had little interaction, had removed them to spare her embarrassment, or that they were away to be laundered.

Richenda’s attitude to her wardrobe was for the most part thus: if she had worn items once she wanted something new and exciting. I had noticed that Trevors was excellent at re-trimming a dress so it looked quite different. There was also a distinct difference now between the outrageous concoctions Richenda wore around the estate and what she wore in society.

Despite her devotion to Richenda’s wardrobe, however, Trevors avoided Amy as if she was some serious contagion.

My mother has always been horrified by my needlework, but I am competent enough. I spent the time awaiting Bertram’s arrival – I had no doubt he would accept the invitation to a warm, friendly, and water-tight house with alacrity – stitching my costumes. I spent some time consulting the fashion magazines that Richenda regularly received, but were currently being left unread, so I could aim at the right styles. Personally, I am no great follower of fashion, preferring to wear something that suits me, and the only nod to fashion I tend towards is wearing the correct hem length. However, the woman I would impersonating would be far more fashionable than myself.

Hans did once intrude upon my solitary sewing waving a letter.

‘I’ve got the best …’ he began, and then took in my activity. I have learned that nothing looks so guilty as to hide something that has already been seen, so I attempted to brazen it out with a smile on my face.

‘Yes?’ I encouraged.

‘Why are you sewing, Euphemia? We have a house seamstress.’

‘She is busy with clothes for Amy. The poor child has almost nothing.’

‘That is no excuse for her to neglect you,’ said Hans sternly.

‘No, she hasn’t,’ I responded quickly. ‘I didn’t even ask her.’

Hans’ expression softened. ‘Euphemia, you have the status of a lady of this house now. You have no need to tend to such menial tasks.’

As a companion I certainly did not have the status of a lady, as my mother pointed out repeatedly in her letters, but I knew Hans meant well.

‘I shall go to her next time,’ I promised. ‘Now do tell me your news.’

‘This is a letter from Sir Richard Stapleford,’ said Hans, pulling a face. He disliked Richenda’s twin almost as much as I did. ‘He is sending Merry to us for the next six months. Which is extremely kind of him.’

‘I am surprised he has interested himself in the matter. I wrote to Mrs Lewis.’

‘That is because he is keen to make me aware that Amelia does not, despite our adoption of her, count as a legitimate heir.’

‘Oh, Lord!’ I said. ‘He can’t still think Richenda wants to own Stapleford Hall?’ Although Richard has assumed control of the house as the eldest son, the terms of his father’s will left the house to the first of his children to have a child.

‘I have never discussed it with her,’ said Hans. ‘Honestly, what that wretched building represents to the three of them is quite beyond my understanding.’

‘But this is such a beautiful estate!’

Hans smiled. ‘I think so, but you know how strange the upbringing of the Stapleford children has been. I am sure the only consistent thing in their childhood was that house, and certainly their father thought more of the Hall than he ever did of them or either of his wives.’

Although raised as an English gentleman, on rare occasions Hans does display the European blood within him. I made no answer to his extraordinary speech.

‘But,’ said Hans, ‘further good news. Bertram will be with us within the week.’ He paused and bit his lip. ‘It seems he is bringing Rory McLeod with him. That won’t be a problem for you, will it?’

‘Rory?’ I said blankly.

‘It seems he did indeed resign from Stapleford Hall, and has been working as a butler at White Orchards. Bertram wants to bring him as his valet, but he … he wrote to, er, check first.’

I felt myself blushing and focussed my attention on the sewing in my lap.

‘As you say, Hans, I now have the status of a lady resident in your house, and I am sure it is no concern of mine whatsoever which servants your guests choose to bring with them.’

Hans’ uncertainty radiated out from his person. I kept my head down and said nothing further. After a longer pause than either of us was comfortable with Hans said, ‘Of course.’ I heard him close the door softly behind him.

Damn, but this was going to make things more difficult! Yet by the time Bertram arrived I was all in readiness. Merry should arrive shortly, and as soon as she did I intended to make my escape. I was sure she would be distraction enough for Richenda. So Bertram had barely had his luggage unloaded when I accosted him in the lobby.

‘I will need to speak to you privately,’ I said quietly. ‘I think it might be wise to advise your valet not to unpack fully.’

Bertram’s eyes bulged and he looked most alarmed. Hans and Richenda then appeared, to welcome him, and I slipped into the background. I hoped I had alarmed Bertram enough that he would spend the rest of today and tonight in terrible and wild imaginings of what I might ask, so that when my favour was asked it would seem almost inconsequential in comparison.

Or at least this is what I optimistically thought.

At dinner that night Bertram continued to glance at me in boggle-eyed alarm whenever he thought our hosts were not watching. I managed to remain completely quiet and demure during the meal, which I think everyone found slightly unsettling. Indeed, when we withdrew Richenda asked me if I was feeling quite well.

‘I’m well,’ I replied, pouring tea for us both while we waited for the gentlemen. ‘I believe Merry will be with us shortly.’

‘Thank goodness,’ said Richenda. ‘I am worn to a frazzle. I think Hans is right, we need to set up the nursery properly. After all one day I hope …’

She became acutely interested in spooning far too much sugar into her tea.

‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘I am sure that day will arrive very soon. This is an excellent opportunity to get everything in readiness.’

Richenda gave me a shy smile. Richenda doing shy is a most unnatural sight. She is generally too big and brash to be anything other than robust, but as this moment she almost looked vulnerable.

‘I must do my best by Hans,’ she said. ‘I owe him everything.’ I thought I even saw a tear in the corner of her eye.

‘You have married excellently,’ I agreed. ‘Though I doubt we will see the men again tonight.’

Richenda frowned. ‘Yes, I expect they will get horrendously drunk. Aren’t men terrible creatures?’ she said without rancour and, despite our excellent dinner, reached for a macaroon. Everything was back to normal.

I enlightened Bertram of my favour the following morning. We were the first at breakfast so I took the opportunity then, as I found him sitting at the table sipping black coffee and picking half-heartedly at a piece of dry toast.

I rushed through my explanation.

‘So you see we would only be away for a few days. We do not even need to stay in London. I will only require a few hours there and then we can move on to the countryside. I am sure it will be easy enough to find a respectable inn, but one where we need never be known.’

Bertram, clutched the sides of his head and groaned. Hans had obviously been extremely free with his cellar last night. ‘I don’t think I’m following all of this,’ he said. ‘Are we eloping?’

‘Good gracious me, no.’

‘I just wanted to be clear on that.’

Some devil on my shoulder prompted me to ask, ‘Why don’t you want to elope with me?’

‘I don’t need to elope with you,’ said Bertram.

‘You don’t know my mother,’ I said under my breath. She would consider Bertram far below me on the social scale. Though, he of course, has no idea of this.

‘Socialist type, is she?’ asked Bertram, who I hadn’t thought was listening. I decided to redirect the conversation.

‘So will you do this for me?’

‘No, of course not,’ said Bertram. ‘It would be highly improper.’

Richenda choose this moment to enter the breakfast room, so I could not continue the discussion. I contented myself with kicking Bertram, very hard, on the shin. He gave a muffled yelp, but Richenda was in full steam heading for the kippers, and noticed nothing.

Chapter Seven

In which I unscrupulously bend Bertram to my
will

For the rest of the day, whenever he saw me in company Bertram made a pretence of limping. Whenever he found himself alone with me he shot out of the room at high speed. It was exceedingly tiresome. I knew I would bend him to my way of thinking. I had to. The only question was how.

In the end I decided I would have to begin my lying career with Bertram. I hated to do this, because although we had often fought in the past I had never lied to him. I had not told him about my background, it was true, but I had never lied and today I would have to start.

I bearded him in the smoking room. He was sitting in one of the wing-backed chairs Hans favours, his eyes closed and a small cheroot between his lips. His feet were stretched out towards a blazing fire and there was an expression of bliss upon his face.

‘Bertram,’ I began in a reasonable tone. However the sound of my voice produced the most unexpected effect. Bertram leapt to his feet as if the chair had bitten his backside. For a moment I thought he had actually swallowed his cheroot. But fortunately he had merely dropped it. The edges of his jacket smouldered slightly and the next few minutes of his attention were taken with flinging the cheroot into the fire and attempting to ensure he did not go up in flames.

‘Damn it, Euphemia,’ he expounded once he was suitably extinguished. ‘This room is meant to be safe from women!’

‘Richenda comes in here all the time,’ I countered.

‘Poor Hans,’ said Bertram with deep feeling. ‘Allow me to further your education, Euphemia. Ladies do not enter smoking rooms.’

‘This one does,’ I said and sat down on a chair opposite him. ‘You know you’re going to agree to my plan in the end, so why all this hassle and pretence?’

Bertram adopted a mulish look. ‘I could escape by returning to White Orchards.’

‘Oh, is it above water again?’

Bertram threw me an evil look. ‘It’s really you I am thinking of. You cannot travel unchaperoned with a single man.’

‘It’s not that, or not entirely that,’ I conceded. ‘We have travelled alone before. That time we went on the train to the Lodge where all the Smiths waited for us.’

‘I wasn’t happy about that,’ said Bertram, ‘but we were doing our duty for King and Country.’

I gave him a long, low, level look.

Bertram’s eyes widened. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘Oh no, no, no.’

‘I can’t tell you anymore,’ I said, quite truthfully. Bertram leapt neatly to the wrong conclusion.

‘But, damn it, I’ve signed the Official Secrets Act too!’

‘Ours not to reason why … so will you help me?’

‘Of course,’ said Bertram. ‘And don’t tell me bloody Fitzroy isn’t behind this pulling the strings.’

I realised then that Bertram would have no way of knowing the spy was dead, but even dead we were both still dancing to his tune.

We made our preparations to leave the following week. Bertram suggested I came up with the story of visiting an ailing aunt. I confess having avoided mentioning my family for so long I was not keen on using such a ruse, but I couldn’t think of anything better. All my thoughts were caught up with what I must do once we reached London.

‘We don’t need to stay overnight in London,’ I told Bertram in a snatched conversation in the gardens one evening. ‘But I will need a place to change. Perhaps a hired room above a respectable tavern?’

‘We will stay in a hotel of the best reputation,’ said Bertram. ‘And on different floors.’

I frowned. ‘Hans and Richenda pay me well, and I have few expenses save supporting my own family, but I do not think I could stretch to that.’

‘I’ll pay,’ said Bertram gruffly.

‘I cannot allow you to do that,’ I protested. ‘That really would be improper.’

‘Nonsense, it will be the least improper episode of this whole debacle. If you refuse to allow me to protect our reputations in this manner I shall refuse to accompany you.’

I am equal to many things, but even I quailed at the thought of finding my way to London and on into the deepest country alone. I sensed an inflexibility in Bertram here. He had curved and bent and moulded his morals for me on various occasions, but even he eventually drew a line in the sand.

‘Thank you,’ I said humbly. ‘But you realise we cannot use our real names?’

‘Yes, dammit,’ said Bertram. ‘But at least I will know I am doing the proper thing.’

The morning of our departure coincided by accident with the day Merry was due to arrive. Richenda was suitably distracted and a small emergency in the stables had happily taken Hans out of the house. I got one of the maids to carry my small suitcase down to Bertram’s automobile and reflected that the sooner I was away the better. Merry was going to be furious that on the day she arrived I stole her Merrit, who was Bertram’s chauffeur, away.

I buttoned up my overcoat and checked the pins securing my hat. I would be travelling inside the covered compartment, but I could not believe the windows would be secure enough to keep out the draughts when we travelled at the reckless top speeds of over twenty miles an hour that Bertram favoured.

Bertram had had the vehicle brought round to the front and was already inside. Stone handed me up into the carriage. I thanked him. He shut the door. The engine, which had already been purring, roared into life and we bumped our way along the drive.

It was unexpectedly warm in the carriage and within moments I decided to take off my hat. We would be travelling for several hours and it was clear my wide brim was already threatening Bertram’s vision. Fortunately, I style my hair simply and do not have to retire to have my hair re-done the moment I remove my hat, unlike some women. I feel there are already enough daily costume changes forced on us women.

It took me a few moments and a little jiggling to remove the hat and pins safely. Both Bertram and I were a little breathless when it was done, but there was a look of relief on his face.

‘I thought you were going to wear that dratted thing the whole way,’ he said.

‘It became clear as soon as I entered the carriage that doing so would have endangered the civility of our journey.’

‘Indeed.’

I sat back in the seat. ‘Ah, this is nice,’ I said. ‘I feel like I am travelling in style. How long do you think it will take Merry to forgive us for stealing away Merrit the day she arrives?’

‘I didn’t dare,’ said Bertram. Then seeing my confusion he pointed at the chauffeur. Obviously the man did not turn round, but I knew him even by the back of his head. ‘McLeod’s been learning up on the estate. We are in safe hands.’

Words failed me. Of all the people Bertram could have brought on his expedition my (very jealous) ex-fiancée, who was as sharp as a tack and by whom I had never managed to pass a single ruse, was undoubtedly the very worst of all.

Eventually I managed to gasp, ‘Oh, Bertram!’

He blinked at me in total ignorance. ‘What’s the matter now?’ he said.

The conversation, which supposedly Rory could not hear because of the glass partition, continued for some time and became, at least on my part, rather animated. I am certain Rory could see us in the little side mirrors he used to look at the road behind, but his driving did not waver.

‘Honestly, Euphemia, I’m not made of servants,’ protested Bertram. ‘I don’t run the same kind of household as my brother, and certainly not as large as the Mullers’. I only have a small pool of people to call on.’

‘Why on earth did you take Rory on in the first place?’ I demanded. I knew I was being petty.

Bertram replied with dignity, ‘Because he needed employment and I needed a butler.’

‘But the two of you …’ I trailed off, lost for words.

‘On our adventure,’ Bertram admitted, ‘Rory and I were at odds. We have also been at odds over our feelings for you.’

I stiffened in shock. It was not like Bertram to refer to these matters at all.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘all those circumstances are in the past. I know McLeod to be an excellent, honest, and forthright fellow. I applaud his decision to take no more blood money from Richard.
[7]
We have settled into a proper master and servant relationship.’

This, I thought, was something I would have to see, and I said as much. Bertram then began to upbraid me about being a troublemaker. In the end I reached over to get my hat, plonked it onto my head, and tilted the brim so I could no longer see him. He humphed and huffed loudly, but I refused to be drawn. Even accusations of childishness did not stir me. I needed to think. Fitzroy had been clear about keeping my tasks secret, but I could see this was becoming more and more unlikely.

When we reached London, it was approaching the dinner hour. Despite the apparent luxury of the automobile I felt stiff and sore as I was handed down by the hotel doorman. Rory disappeared off to wherever the automobiles were put, and a sullen-faced Bertram and I made our way into the hotel.

‘Did you make a reservation?’ I asked.

Bertram gave me a wide-eyed look.

‘Let me deal with this. You see to it that our baggage is fetched,’ I said and without waiting I hurried to the desk.

‘I am afraid my brother has overlooked making our reservations. I am wondering if you can help.’

The man behind the desk gave me an appraising look. ‘I am in town to arrange settlement of some of my late husband’s affairs,’ I said. ‘As you may appreciate we have all had a lot on our minds. I am looking for accommodation for my brother and myself for one night only. Our chauffeur will also need to be accommodated … wherever you put chauffeurs. He is currently taking our automobile to your garage.’

It was the mention of the automobile that did it. For once I blessed Bertram’s extravagance and determination to try all things new.

‘We do have two rooms available,’ said the hotel desk clerk, ‘but they are not on the same floor.’

‘Perfect,’ I said.

‘What name, ma’am?’

‘Mrs Fitzroy and Mr Ellis,’ I said. He was on the process of handing me the keys when Bertram appeared at my side. ‘This kind man has found us rooms for the night, brother.’

‘Will you be dining, ma’am? Sir?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Bertram.

I thanked the man and ushered Bertram away from the desk towards the bellboy who was waiting with our bags.

‘You are Mr Ellis,’ I whispered in his ear, ‘and I am your widowed sister.’ Bertram shot me a boggle-eyed look, but had the sense not to demand an explanation before the hotel staff.

Happily, at dinner we were beset with excellent service. The dining room was surprisingly busy and people were constantly passing our table. Bertram got no more opportunity than to shoot me the occasional question. I managed to keep the name I had signed in from him and also to tell him only that tomorrow morning at ten I had an appointment I had arranged by letter. It was well within walking distance and I would be grateful if he would escort me to the street and then wait for me in a Lyons tearoom which I had discovered, through perusing a local directory, was nearby. Bertram’s habit of starting his interrogatives by use of my name and, or, various polite expressions such as ‘dash it’ meant he took far too long to ask anything significant before someone came within earshot or offered us further courses. He was already annoyed and uncomfortable at having a false name thrust on him where he might, just might, meet someone he knew and eager not to attract attention.

I enjoyed an excellent meal. Bertram ate angrily and, as I pointed out, would doubtless have indigestion tonight. I advised him to send for some bicarbonate of soda before he retired. He did not thank me, instead contenting himself with glaring at me over the soup, frowning over the entrée, devouring the fish in the most sullen manner, and declining dessert. I had a large slice of lemon drizzle cake and ate every last crumb. Richenda would have been proud of me.

We retired with my naming the time I required to meet him in the foyer to set off my appointment. Bertram neither confirmed nor denied he would be there. Instead, he grunted goodnight. I told him he had the manners of a pig and tripped upstairs to my bedroom. I hoped I had angered him quite enough that he would not pry further into my schemes. Indeed, if I was lucky he might not speak to me at all before we got back to the Mullers’ estate.

[7]
A large part of the Stapleford fortune was built on arms sales, and Richard continues in this trade today.