The Reluctant Widow Read online

  A servant whom Carlyon addressed as Jem had received them. Elinor heard him say, with a strong Sussex accent, that the doctor was with Mr Eustace in the best bedroom, and that it was a hem set-out, surelye, but in no ways Master Nick’s fault, as everyone, whether present or not, would testify to the Crowner.

  ‘Nonsense! Where is Hitchin?’ Carlyon asked, stripping off his driving-gloves.

  ‘I’ll fetch him to your lordship,’ replied the tapster, waiting to help Carlyon to take off his long, many-caped coat. ‘He should ought to be in the coffee-room. Lamentable put-about, he is. Well, surely, I disremember when we had such a set-out at the Bull, and your lordship knows I’ve been with Mr Hitchin a dunnamany years.’

  The landlord, a respectable, middle-aged man, whose ordinarily cheerful countenance was just now overlaid with gloom, came in at that moment. His brow lightened at sight of Carlyon, and he said: ‘I don’t know when I’ve been more glad to see your lordship. I’ve been thinking to myself it was a lucky chance I happened to see your lordship on the road to Highnoons, so it was, for poor Master Nick was in a rare taking, and small blame to him! But what I say, and will swear to anywhen, my lord, is that he never had no thought to go sticking my knife into Mr Eustace! And as for the start of it all, I’ll tell the Crowner to his head Master Nick was speaking comely as you please to Mr Eustace, until Mr Eustace went beyond what flesh and blood could stand, let alone a high-couraged young gentleman, which we all know Master Nick is!’

  ‘Is Mr Eustace alive?’ demanded Carlyon.

  ‘Oh, ay, me lord! He’s alive, but none so valiant, by what I hear from the doctor. Don’t you be afeared for Master Nick, my lord! I saw the whole, and there’s no Crowner going to shake me.’

  ‘The whole village will just about say as how it were Mr Eustace as done the thing!’ said the helpful Jem eagerly.

  ‘I’ll go up to Mr Eustace. Do you keep this fool, Jem, from ruining all, Hitchin! And bring coffee for the lady, and for Mr Presteign!’

  He left the room, the landlord at his heels, and strode up the short corridor to the staircase. Hitchin said: ‘I see your lordship’s brought Parson along, but asking your pardon, it ain’t a parson Mr Eustace is in the mood to see, nor ever was. I misdoubt me Parson won’t like it, for he’s got no know, though a pleasant enough gentleman, and preaches a comfortable sermon, I’m sure. Howsoever, it’s as well to have everything shipshape and above-board, I dare say.’

  ‘Exactly so!’ Carlyon said.

  Four

  The room which Carlyon softly entered at the head of the staircase was a wainscoted apartment, hung with dimity curtains, and containing a four-poster bed, which stood out into the room. Under the patchwork quilt, and propped up by pillows, lay a young man, his head a little fallen to one side. One lock of his lank, dark hair was tumbled across his brow; his lips, which were almost bloodless, were slightly parted; and he was breathing short and fast. The light cast by a branch of candles on a nearby table showed that his countenance had assumed a ghastly pallor; he seemed to be sleeping.

  A grizzled man, wearing the conventional frock-coat, but not the wig, of a doctor of medicine, was seated by the bedside, but he looked up when he heard the door open, and at once rose, and went to meet Carlyon. ‘I thought you would come, my lord,’ he said, in a lowered tone. ‘Upon my soul, this is a bad business – a very bad business!’

  ‘As you say. How is he?’

  ‘I can do nothing for him. The knife entered the stomach. He is sinking, and I do not expect him to outlive the night.’

  ‘Is he in possession of his faculties?’

  The doctor smiled grimly. ‘Quite enough so to be casting about in his mind for some means of doing you an injury, my lord.’

  Carlyon glanced towards the bed. ‘I hope he may not have hit upon the only way in which he can accomplish it.’

  ‘He has done so, but you need feel no alarm on that score.’

  ‘He has done so?’

  ‘Oh, yes! But no one but Hitchen and myself has heard what he has to say. When I found what he would be at I took care to send the nurse about her business. If this had to happen it is as well it has happened where he is too well known to have the power of working mischief.’

  ‘What are you talking of?’

  The doctor looked at him under his brows. ‘No, it would not occur to you, I suppose, my lord. Mr Cheviot, however, knows well that he can best hurt you through your brothers. He has told me that Mr Nicholas set out to murder him, and at your instigation. He would like to think that he could bring Mr Nick to the scaffold.’

  For a moment Carlyon did not speak; the light, flickering in a little draught, cast his features into relief against the wall; the doctor watched a muscle twitch beside his strong mouth. Then he said: ‘Let him think of it. I can trust Hitchin. I shall hope to give his thoughts another direction. Can he go through a ceremony of marriage?’

  The doctor’s brows rose quickly. ‘So you are at that, are you?’ he muttered. ‘Yes, but whom will you find, my lord? It has been in my mind, but I see no way of accomplishing it. There is too little time left.’

  ‘I have brought a lady with me who is willing to marry him. She is below-stairs, with Presteign.’

  The doctor stared at him, a look of appreciative amusement creeping into his eyes. ‘You have, eh? My lord, after all the years I have known you, ay, and after the scrapes I’ve seen you in, and the bones I’ve set for you, I wonder that you should still have the power to surprise me! But will he consent?’

  ‘Yes, for you could never bring him to believe that I do not covet his estate. He has suspected me ever since I first broached the matter to him of nourishing some evil design for which his marriage was to serve as a mask.’

  He stopped, for Eustace Cheviot had stirred, and opened his eyes. The doctor stepped up to the bed, and felt his pulse.

  ‘Damn you, take your hands off me!’ Eustace whispered. ‘I know I am done for!’

  Carlyon walked forward to the other side of the bed, and stood there, looking down at him. The clouded eyes regarded him stupidly for a moment, and seemed gradually to regain intelligence. An expression of malevolence crossed the sharp features; Eustace uttered in a faint voice: ‘I wish I had married to spite you, by God, I do! You thought you could gammon me, but I wasn’t as green as you thought, Carlyon!’

  ‘Were you not?’ Carlyon said evenly.

  ‘You had some precious scheme to throw dust in the eyes of the world. I don’t know the whole, but I fancy I was to be married so that it might appear that you had no designs upon Highnoons. And then you would have disposed of me, would you not? Ah, but I am more up to smoke than you thought for, my dear cousin, and I would have willed Highnoons away from you within an hour of leaving the church. You thought I had not sense enough to make my will speedily, but I had!’

  ‘You do yourself harm by talking so much, Mr Cheviot,’ interposed the doctor.

  A spasm of pain twisted Cheviot’s face; his eyes closed for an instant, but opened again, and fixed themselves once more on Carlyon’s face. ‘Your precious Nick was too quick for you!’ he sneered.

  ‘Too quick for you as well, Eustace.’

  Eustace moved his head restlessly on the pillow. ‘Yes, by God!’ he muttered. ‘You’ll have it all! Damn you, damn you!’

  ‘Yes, I shall have it all.’

  ‘Ay, but I’ll turn it to dust and ashes for you! You will have to see Nick stand his trial! He murdered me, do you hear? He meant to murder me!’

  ‘I may have to see him stand his trial, but his credit is better than yours, cousin, and the only witness to your quarrel is devoted to my interest. I shall see Nick acquitted.’

  The calm certainty with which he spoke had its effect. The dying man gave a groan, and made a convulsive attempt to drag himself up on his elbow.

  ‘For God’s sake, my lord, take care w