A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(60)
“Oh!” said Verity, galvanised. “As he died, Captain Eastwick whispered ‘Kit’s book. Get him’. No one heard but me. I do not know which book he meant.”
Kitty gave a short laugh. “I have only one book. Anything else would be sold or pawned. I brought it with me. I told you, it never leaves me now.” Delving into her basket, she extracted a small sturdy book showing evidence of much use. “It does not surprise me that he had no last words for me. Has he written a message on one of the pages, do you suppose? I have never noticed anything.”
“May I see?” Charles reached for Domestic Cookery and moved to the sofa, motioning for Verity to sit down next to him.
This caused a furore by exposing the slit in her gown and her bloodstained bandage. Verity waved away offers of help, refusing to be tended to until Charles had examined the book.
“Nonsense,” said her mother, and gave immediate orders for hot water and clean bandages.
Charles continued to turn the pages. After a pause during which Verity submitted to her mother’s ministrations and suspected every person in the room was convinced they should be investigating the book for themselves, he said, “Have these last pages always been so stiff?”
Kitty looked bewildered. “I don’t know. It is only advertisements for other books.” She threw Mrs Bowman a fond glance. “I needed no others, so I never bothered reading that part.”
Charles looked directly at Mr Tweedie. “Do you have your paperknife, sir? The one with the very fine blade.”
He has found something, thought Verity and thrilled at the serious, intent look in his eyes.
Mr Tweedie was suddenly all attorney. “I do indeed. Pass the book over. I wonder, could we clear the table a little? Yes, I think you are correct, Charles. The edges are gummed. An old device, but surprisingly effective.” He paused, penknife suspended in mid-air, looking joyfully boyish. “Goodness me, the last time I did this we discovered the location of a priceless pearl parure inside.”
“You may,” muttered Kitty, “be disappointed.”
Verity grinned at her, then thanked her mother. “Thank you, Mama. That feels very much easier.”
“I should imagine it does. I suppose you will tell me how you sustained it eventually?”
“Later. Look, Mr Tweedie has found something.”
Working the knife delicately, Mr Tweedie separated the final two pages in the book. A thin sheet of paper fluttered out, covered with writing. He retrieved it from the table, adjusted his spectacles and read it aloud. “This appears to be a memorandum, written by Captain Eastwick. It reads: July 1810 - went into Suffolk on a commission for F. I was to extract a single payment (as is his custom and guarantee) of ￡500 from Mr B to hide Mr B’s part in the hiring and shooting of Mr WL as if by highwaymen in the year 1797.” As he said this, Mr Tweedie’s dry tone faltered and his eyes met those of Verity’s mother. A hand crept to her mouth.
Mr Tweedie returned his attention to the letter. “This is how F works. Money for a secret, paid once and for all time forgotten. Ten guineas for me as the agent, and the favour cancels out a secret he has on me. What else I do is my business, not his, though he frequently discovers it and holds the knowledge against me for a future task. He has spies everywhere. Whilst in Suffolk, I was much taken with Miss B. Her beauty and passion were beyond tempting. Mr B saw the attraction between us and offered ￡1000 for me in addition to F’s payment if I would marry her & cause it to seem an elopement. To have ￡1000 plus my ten guineas for F’s commission was a powerful inducement. I had often been paid to vacate the field, but never to marry. The deal was half down, proof to attorney, the remaining money paid on receipt. We were never to return to Newmarket. The lines are with Messrs D&D. I write this to affirm it was a true marriage and the way of it coming about. Signed by my hand... Simon Eastwick.”
Verity looked at Charles. “What does it mean?”
“It means,” said Kitty in a bitter voice, “that he never loved me. He was paid to run away with me so Papa should not have the expense of a wedding. I am so many times a fool.”
“It is more than that,” said Charles. “From some papers we... acquired,” his gaze rested on Verity, “your father’s whole objective was to give your share of your late mother’s settlement to your brother. He evidently thought the loss of a thousand pounds for a marriage bribe a sufficient price to pay for the gain of two. A despicable act in a father.”
“He was a monster.” Verity’s mother spoke for the first time. There were tears in her eyes. “He looked well enough, but he wasn’t charming like your Simon, Kitty. I had no wish to wed him. Once Will died, I didn’t think I had a choice. And now... now I find...” Her voice shook with emotion. She put out a hand and - to Verity’s shock - Mr Tweedie took it.
“Now we find Mr Bowman planned William Lawrence’s death.” Mr Tweedie tapped the first part of the letter. “That’s what this says, that Mr Bowman was being blackmailed for hiring a ruffian to murder Will. He can only have done it to marry Miss Harrington, as she was in those days.”
“But why?” Verity was open-mouthed. “I don’t mean why would anyone want to marry you, Mama, for that is self-evident, but to kill your betrothed so he could marry you... that seems out-of-proportion pig-headed, even for Papa.”