A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6) (12 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘De Duobus malis, Minus Est Semper Eligendum’ – Of two evils, the lesser one is always to be chosen

              The journey back to Hanbury was, thankfully, uneventful. The Underwoods were tacitly relieved to hear that Mrs Jebson was not yet ready to travel with them and would follow in a few days. Will had insisted that she remain at home until Violette had settled in to their routine with the two little girls.

              Unbeknownst to the couple, he had also tried his very hardest to dissuade his wife from her madcap plan to relocate their business. It was not now a reluctance to move that was his prime objective, but a small, almost unacknowledged, premonition of disaster. Under any other circumstances he knew that Martha would never have been prevailed upon to leave him alone in a house with a young and very attractive woman, albeit chaperoned by the sulky Lucy.

              It was not that he feared that either he or Violette would in any way misbehave themselves. It would not have occurred to him to even consider being untrue to his wife and he was very sure that Violette must view him as far too old to be anything other than a father figure, but he was very worried that the situation was going to cause gossip and scandal and that his relationship with his customers would suffer. It was vital that they saw him as trustworthy, otherwise how could they confide their medical secrets to him?

              Martha, however, was not to be deterred and Will finally gave in with as much good grace as he could muster, whilst silently praying that his highly critical wife would hate the little town on sight and take the first stagecoach home.

              Underwood, once he was sure Martha Jebson would not be his travelling companion, had only one other moment of discomfort when he had cause to realize that he had been far more badly affected by his previous sojourn than he had supposed. When the coach suddenly swerved and he heard the shouts of the driver and terrified neighing of the horses, he felt the blood drain from his face. For a few horrified seconds he thought that they had been held up by highwaymen again and his relief was palpable when it turned out merely to have been a large and bemused badger that had wandered onto the highway on its twilit evening ramble, which just happened to coincide with the last leg of the journey.

              Verity could not help but notice his distress and she asked solicitously, “How do you go on, Cadmus? Did the lurching of the coach exacerbate your travel sickness?”

              “A little,” he said, grateful that she had put her own interpretation upon his odd reaction to what should have been a minor annoyance. He could hardly admit he had experienced an appalling and graphic surge of memory when he saw once more a man fall backwards with a bullet-hole between his eyes and the back of his head a bloody mess of matted hair, torn skin, smashed skull and splattered brain. If he had been asked immediately after the event, he would have said that he had turned away the moment the shot was fired, but it appeared he had witnessed far more of the incident than he knew. Or perhaps it was an over-active imagination which had filled in the gory details which he had never actually seen. He neither knew nor cared, but wanted to put the images forever from his mind. It took all his concentration to drag his mind back to the present and listen to his wife as she, all unknowing, offered a platitude.

              “Well, take comfort, my love, we are very nearly home. I wrote and told Toby when we were due to arrive in Hanbury and he will be there to meet us and drive the last mile or two.”

              “I must admit that I am ready for home, much as I have enjoyed our little holiday,” he replied, pleased that he had managed to sound almost normal in his response. Now was not the time to give himself away, after so many months of being able to bite his tongue.

              “I feel the same way. I have only just realized quite how much I have missed Horry and Clarissa.”

              He patted her hand, “I never thought I would ever say so, but I have missed them too, even the unmitigated horror of mealtimes!”

              Verity laughed, “My dear, it will not be so horrid forever. They are growing apace. Soon you will be looking back and wishing we had these childish messes once again.”

              “I very much doubt it,” he said earnestly, shuddering slightly at the memory of scattered food, sticky fingers and dirty faces, but at least that banished the other memory, at least for the present.

              Toby, ever reliable, was there to meet the coach as it trundled into the yard of the inn. Underwood was immensely fond of the large black man, but there was a special feeling of joy to see the huge grin after so many weeks away. Of course one would never have known it, for they exchanged a firm handshake and a polite greeting, nothing more. Verity was not so circumspect and she lifted her face for Toby to place a chaste kiss upon each cheek. Had they not been in a public place she would have hugged him, but even warm-hearted Verity knew the rules of society and such displays of affection were for the privacy of home, nowhere else.

              “Please tell me that everything at Windward is just as it should be,” she said, a little breathlessly, as they hoisted their luggage from the stage and transferred it into the gig. Toby took the heaviest bags, of course, but there were still smaller valises for Underwood and Verity to carry. They had brought so many gifts for the girls and the rest of the family that Underwood feared there would not be enough room for them in the small carriage.

              Toby laughed, “Of course. Nothing untoward has happened. Not a glimmer of a drama of any kind in the house or with the family – but of course, there would not be any adventures – Underwood was away!”

              Verity laughed but Underwood huffed in pretended offence, “Are you trying to say that it is I who cause any trouble at home? I, who likes nothing more than to sit by the fire with a book, serene and causing not a ripple on the pond of life?” he asked, hoisting himself into the gig, having already handed his wife up. This was his usual defence when accused of stirring up discord or causing vexation, but it had little effect upon his companions.

              Toby and Verity fell against each other in helpless merriment, “Oh, bless the dear man, he actually believes that,” said Verity, when she had recovered herself, “Even knowing that we had incidents aplenty whilst we were away. Tell me, Underwood, who was it who introduced a French actress into our midst? Who encouraged Mrs Jebson to come and live in Hanbury and caused a family rift between the Petch siblings?”

              Underwood opened his mouth to protest, but Toby was too interested in what Verity had to say to heed him. He insisted on a full report of all that had happened in Dacorum-in-the-Marsh and West Wimpleford, which Underwood felt his wife deliberately skewed in order to show him in the very worst light possible.

              The telling of the tale made the final few miles pass swiftly and before they knew it, Underwood and Verity were walking into their own hallway, and being nearly bowled over by the entire family, for Cara had stayed at Windward House with her boys in order to care for Horatia and Clarissa and Gil had joined her as soon as he knew brother and sister-in-law were due home.

              Verity was weeping tears of joy as she clasped her little girls to her breast, Gil was shaking Underwood heartily by the hand, Cara was breathlessly recounting all that the girls had achieved to assure their mother that she had not neglected her duties, and the two youngest boys, William and Edward were running and yelling in excitement. Their older brother Alistair was standing shyly to one side, smiling broadly at the lovely family chaos, waiting for his turn for a kiss from his Aunt Verity and a handshake from his Uncle Cadmus. Toby quietly got on with fetching in the luggage then went to the kitchen to make sure the kettle was on the boil. Tea would be the first request of the weary travellers.

              Once the maelstrom had calmed a little, then youngsters went off to play, with Alistair happily taking charge, and the adults gathered in the drawing room to enjoy some peace and a hot drink. Verity and Cara barely drew breath as they caught up with each other and the gentlemen exchanged an indulgent smile at their fond chatter.

              “Toby tells me that nothing of any note has occurred during my absence,” said Underwood, once he had taken a few reviving sips of Gil’s special brew, “That surely cannot be true.”

              “True enough.” answered Gil, “More than anything else, the whole place is abuzz with the preparations for Jeremy James’ party and no one can speak of anything else. It is turning into a gala day of gigantic proportions. The original idea was that it should be a select gathering to take place at his and Adeline’s house. Then, of course, we discovered that Jeremy’s closest friend from his army days had been transported, so the ensuing delay whilst we waited for you to prove his innocence simply gave Adeline more time to think of people she wanted to invite. Once that happened, their house was nowhere near large enough. Lady Hartley-Wells has stepped in and offered her ball-room. However, it seems even that will not hold the numbers predicted to attend and a marquee is to be erected in the garden!”

              “Good gad! I trust it doesn’t rain. I cannot conceive of anything worse than tramping about knee-deep in mud in a glorified tent.”

              Gil laughed, “They have planned the event for late July, so we are all hoping for good weather. I have been personally charged with praying for a dry spell by that impertinent rogue, Jeremy!”

              “Well, if your prayers can control an English summer, Gil, you might find you have converted me into a believer.”

              The Rural Dean took that comment with a pinch of salt.

              “You know, of course, that Mother and General Milner are also invited?”

              “They are?  Good heavens, why? I would have thought that any celebration which included Major Thornycroft would send Mother running for the hills!”

              “Normally it would, but the General is quite another matter. He and Jeremy James are old comrades-in-arms. They were both at Waterloo.”

              This was news to Underwood, who always showed a lamentable lack of interest in the affairs of his mother’s second husband. He did not actively dislike the General, nor had he, indeed, objected to his mother remarrying. His father had been dead for many years and he considered the General something of a boon, since he had removed any sense of guilt which usually ensued when he thought about his mama’s lonely existence since he and Gil had grown up and left home. He simply found the old gentleman a confounded bore. There could not be two men who had such differing interests as he and the ex-military man. Oddly he did not feel the same way about the Major, but Jeremy James had the redeeming trait of humour in his character, something which, if he possessed such a thing, Underwood had utterly failed to detect in his step-father.

              “The General was at Waterloo? How is you know that, but I had no notion? Don’t all Waterloo veterans constantly remind one of their heroism? Jeremy James certainly never lets anyone forget that he lost his legs in our service.”

              “Have you ever met our beloved step-father?” asked Gil, astounded that Underwood could have retained such ignorance, “I dare swear he has re-fought all his campaigns over port and cigars more times than I care to recall. How on earth have you managed to avoid the lectures?”

              Underwood smiled complacently, “I suppose I just don’t listen to the old duffer,” he admitted wryly. “I fear I have not your patience, my dear Gil. Whilst he was firing cannon across the dining table, I was probably snoozing, or planning my next book. I have the facility of looking engrossed while my mind is wandering far and wide. It was a trick I cultivated when I lived at home with Mother, perfected in Halls at university, and it has proved immensely useful many times since, especially during your sermons. In fact, I would go so far as to claim that it is the only way to maintain a happy marriage!”

              Gil shook his head in disbelief and a slight feeling of offence, though he was well aware that Underwood’s infrequent visits to church were always under duress. This brother of his could still surprise and appal him even after all these years. He thought it very fortunate that neither of the ladies had heard that last remark or Underwood might find himself facing the wrath of both his wife and sister-in-law, both of whom were forces to be reckoned with when in high dudgeon.

              “One of these fine days, Chuffy, you will come a cropper and I shall rejoice in your spectacular downfall. It is grossly unfair that you seem to float through life as though on a cloud of feathers whilst the rest of us have to slog our way through the mire.”

              “Poor Gil, has it been a trial for you, managing without Cara so that I could enjoy a holiday?” asked Underwood, with mock sympathy.

              “It has been damnably inconvenient and lonely,” admitted Gil, allowing himself a vulgarism since no one else was listening and it fitted his feelings perfectly, “I cannot bear an empty house.”

              “Or an empty bed, I’ll be bound,” sniggered Underwood, reverting to boyhood, as he often did in his brother’s company.

              “Pray don’t be so coarse,” said Gil automatically, but he did not deny the accusation. Even after several years of marriage, he still found it amazing that the lovely, aristocratic Lady Cara Lovell had consented to be his bride. Of course, she had been irretrievably compromised by being kidnapped at the same time as Underwood, so that the whole of society had thought they had run away together, but even so, it was nothing short of miraculous that she had fallen in love with a lowly vicar and given up her pampered and leisured lifestyle to run his house, help raise his step-son and act as his helpmate in his parish duties. It was for her alone that he had allowed his father-in-law’s intervention with the Bishop and accepted the promotion to Rural Dean. His real vocation would have been to remain a parish priest and help those who needed it most. The birth of their two sons had confirmed that he needed to earn more than the stipend of a mere vicar. Like Underwood he had inherited a considerable sum from his father’s estate, but whilst Underwood had invested his cautiously and was now reaping the rewards, he had donated most of his to the needy in his flock. The Earl had settled a large amount upon his daughter at her marriage, but Gil refused to touch it. It was for her and their sons and he would not contemplate living a life of ease, even though Cara would gladly have encouraged him to do so.