Virginia Henley (44 page)

“We’ll use showy sedum, sea holly and Jacob’s ladder with scabiosa behind. Then the little rock plants in front like creeping phlox, moss pink and rock cress. There’re some good annuals we’ll need to attract the prettiest ones, like naughty Marietta, verbena, cosmos, wallflowers and what’s that red stuff … fireweed!”

“It won’t work in England; we’ve no butterflies—only them white things that eat cabbages!” he said stubbornly.

“Oh, Tom, you’re a gardener. How can you say that? We have red admirals, painted ladies, Milbert’s tortoiseshell, spring azures, and mourning cloaks, to name only a few.”

She walked heavily now, under her burden, but she looked happier and more contented. Charles Patrick came running. She took his hand and they went off to feed the swans.

“When you have the baby, I won’t be the baby anymore, will I?” he asked happily.

“Good heavens, you haven’t been a baby for ages,” she wisely assured him. Later that night, as she gazed down at her sleeping son, she whispered, “Little Patrick, how exactly like your father you are, and now, God help me, I’m about to bring another little O’Reilly into the world.”

Charles moved quietly out of the shadows and went into his bedroom. A report sounded through the house. Kitty looked up startled, then she ran along the hall toward Charles’ bedroom, a gathering fear clutching at her heart. She was calling for Katie at the top of her lungs, long before she reached the bedroom door. Her hand turned the knob reluctantly, knowing what she would find. Katie was behind her as she opened the door and quickly slammed it shut again in horror.

“Get a doctor! Hurry! Hurry!”

As Katie ran down the stairs, she said, “What’s his doctor’s name? It’s gone clear out of my head.”

“No, no, his doctor lives in Harley Street. Quickly, go across the square. The big house at the corner has just been bought by a doctor,” she said breathlessly.

Mimi came running upstairs. “Was that a gunshot I heard?”

“Yes, yes. There’s been a terrible accident. Go to Charles Patrick; make sure he doesn’t leave his room!”

Kitty had gone a ghastly shade of putty. Her mind screamed, “No, Charles, no!” all the while she was giving directions. Two menservants came, but she waved them back. “I’ll go in to him. Stay here, please.”

She went into the room and began to talk to Charles. “It’s all right, darling, I’ve sent for help. It’s all right, you’re not going to die. I won’t let you.” There was no blood. The gun lay on the floor beside Charles. It was such a tiny hole, it couldn’t possibly have done much damage. He lay very still. Her pregnancy prevented her from getting down on the floor.

She pulled the comforter from the bed and draped it around him to keep him warm. “The doctor’s coming, Charles. Hang on, for God’s sake, hang on,” she begged. She lifted his hand and held it tightly. All the while she knew that he wasn’t just unconscious, but she clung in desperation. If he hovered anywhere between life and death, she would bring him back. She looked up dazed as Katie ushered the doctor through the bedroom doorway. She was hallucinating! This had all happened before! Otis Grant-Stewart stopped on the threshold. Recognition dawned on him as he looked at the young woman before him.

Kitty raised her hands in supplication. “Please help him!” she begged.

He gave the body a cursory examination.

“We meet again under identical circumstances, madame,” he said coldly.

“He can’t be dead,” she said firmly.

“He is quite dead, madame,” he said.

“Do something, anything!” she ordered.

“Indeed I shall, madame. I shall inform the police and the coroner’s office. I shall order an autopsy and an inquest into this shooting. When one’s husband is found with a bullet in his head, the circumstances are regarded with suspicion. When one’s subsequent husband is found with a bullet in his head, the circumstances are damning!”

“What will you do with him?” she asked, all her thoughts still with Charles.

“I shall inform the coroner’s office. Attendants will come and remove the body. I bid you good evening,” he said curtly.

“I bid you good riddance!” said Kitty, coming out of her trance. She called in the menservants. “Lift him up onto the bed, please. Be very gentle,” she admonished. When they left she brushed back her husband’s hair, all gone gray now.
“Why must we always hurt the ones we love?” she asked him. “Good-bye, Charles,” she whispered tenderly. “May you be half an hour in paradise before the devil knows you’re dead.”

She stayed beside him until they came to collect the body. Afterward, she sat so still Katie didn’t know what to do.

“Ma’am, do you realize the serious trouble we are in?” she asked fearfully.

The child kicked hard. “Life and death,” mused Kitty, putting her hand to the baby. “It’s a matter of life and death, isn’t it?”

“That doctor should have done something for you. He could see what condition you were in. Let me help you to bed.”

Kitty ignored her words. “I want the carriage brought round. Bring me a cloak, Katie.”

“You can’t go out alone, you’re in shock!” She stopped when she saw Kitty’s face. “I see you are determined,” she said with resignation. “I’ll come with you.”

The carriage stopped in Half-Moon Street. Katie left Kitty in the carriage while she went for Patrick. She was back in a minute and told the driver to go on to Cadogen Square.

“He has business at Julia’s,” she explained quickly.

This time Kitty could not wait in the carriage, but went up to the door herself. When the butler opened to them she swept past him toward the sound of voices. The three people were in a heated conversation about shares and proxy votes. They broke off abruptly as Kitty entered.

Patrick came to his feet immediately. “What has happened?”

Kitty said with disbelief, “Charles has killed himself!” Patrick was beside her in two strides. She felt his comforting hand at the small of her back, and she said, “It’s my fault!”

Julia cried, “You’ve been trouble since the day Father
brought you into our home. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t killed him too!”

A slap rang out. Jeffrey stood before his wife and said pointedly, “At least she didn’t murder her own baby, madame. Leave this room at once or I won’t be accountable for my actions!”

When Julia had gone Patrick said angrily, “It’s about time you were master in your own household.”

“I apologize for my wife. I will do anything I can to help you both. I’ll leave you so you can have some privacy,” he said, taking Katie from the room with him.

Patrick led Kitty to a chair, then fetched her some brandy. He knelt beside her and guided the glass to her lips. She choked as the fiery liquid touched her throat and Patrick took the glass from her trembling fingers.

“I was saying good night to Charles Patrick … my thoughts were all of you … I was thinking aloud … Charles must have heard … he shot himself.” She looked at him helplessly. “There was nothing I could do … there was nothing anyone could do.”

He clasped her hands between his and found her hands like ice. He knew there was more, but he waited for her to tell him without his prompting.

“It was like a nightmare … I sent Katie for a doctor … it was the same doctor who came when Simon was shot.”

She closed her eyes against the ugly memories. Patrick brought her a footstool. He gently eased her back in the chair and lifted her feet.

“He’s ordered an autopsy, an inquest … he thinks I killed him!” she cried.

“No, no, that’s simply routine in the City of London. Under the circumstances he had no choice whatsoever,” he reassured her. “I use the best barristers and solicitors in
London. We’ll get you counsel. You won’t have a thing to worry about. An inquest is just a hearing, remember, not a trial.”

“I’m in ignorance of these things,” she said wearily.

“That won’t matter in the least. You must place yourself in the hands of your counsel and say whatever he tells you to. I’ll arrange everything myself. The important thing, the only thing that matters is you. You must be very strong, because even though I am with you, I cannot physically stand beside you. They mustn’t find out about us or you will be crucified.”

The truth of his words hit her. “I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

He shook his head impatiently. “You came to Jeffrey and Julia. Jeffrey and Katie will take you home later and he will be our go-between. All our messages to each other can be carried through Jeffrey. Trust no one else,” he cautioned. His eyes lingered on her belly. “How is everything with our baby?”

She reached for his hand and placed it beneath her heart. The child kicked beneath his fingers and he was filled with awe at the mystery of it all. He pulled up another easy chair beside her. He sat back, keeping hold of her hand. “Have a little rest. Let me be with you for a while. Heaven knows when we’ll be able to be together again.”

The autopsy concluded death was caused by one gunshot to the brain. Whether self-inflicted or otherwise could not be determined. Kitty was served with a paper notifying her the inquest would be three days hence. London was agog with the news. Reporters from the newspapers waited outside her front door to glean lurid details for their dailies. Her counsel assured her they would delve into Charles’ business affairs and also the state of his health to find a valid reason for his suicide. A reason must be found, she was assured, so that no suspicions could fall upon her. He gave her advice on what to say, what to wear, her comportment and so forth.

“It’s all so contrived, like staging a play,” she protested wearily.

“That’s exactly how you must think of it. You must catch their sympathy and hold it. You must awaken a desire to protect you, not only in the magistrate, but also in every human being who is there to observe you. They are your audience, your Grace, and they will judge you.”

She ached for Patrick. His notes were cold comfort when she needed his physical strength to lean upon.

Her counsel came again the following day. “We have nothing to go on. The duke’s business affairs were above question. His private life has no sordid affairs that would suggest any form of blackmail,” he said with disappointment.

“I should hope not!” she snapped.

“His doctor gives him a clean bill of health; no fatal illnesses lurking about. It’s really too bad.”

“Jeffrey, the man offends me. He wants to walk all over Charles’ memory with muddy footprints. I must speak with Patrick,” she demanded.

“He’s absolutely adamant on that point, Kitty. He will not jeopardize your reputation by coming to you,” said Jeffrey. “He’s right, Kitty; it’s not just your reputation that’s at stake here, it could be your life! Patrick will have my hide for frightening you this way, but if they don’t find just cause for suicide, they could start looking for a motive for murder!”

The day before the inquest Charles’ doctor came to the house. Counsel met him. “I’ve been asked to testify regarding Charles’ health. Could I speak with her Grace?”

Counsel said, “I am in charge of the case, so it would be best to communicate any information you have with me.”

“Well, there is one thing I could say that probably would help you, but it’s rather indelicate and I’d like her Grace’s permission before I divulge such personal matters.”

“Speak up, man. What have you got? It may save her from a murder charge!”

“Well, I treated him for impotence.”

“That’s it! Good man, good man. Nothing like the spice of bedroom details. We’ll have them
eating
out of our hands.”

In the back of her mind, Kitty thought that when the day of the inquest arrived, the birth of her child would mercifully prevent her from being there. The day dawned and with it came the realization that the ordeal must be faced. Jeffrey and a much-subdued Julia arrived early to accompany her to court. Her counsel was already there, giving her last-minute advice.

“It’s not seemly for a lady in your condition to be seen in
public. Thankfully, the crinoline will help to disguise your condition. Keep your cloak on at all times. Now, remember to keep your eyes down; you must be meek—a supplicant. The ‘tragic widow’ is a most sympathetic figure.”

“I shall be the pathetic creature you have ordered me to be, even though it goes against the grain,” she flashed.

As she entered the courtroom, a wave of whispers swept around the room. She was surprised to see the room filled mostly with men. There were some newspaper reporters but largely they were Charles’ peers. Her eyes searched the crowd for Patrick. She was surprised when he ignored her and gave his attention to the smartly dressed woman on his right.

The inquest opened with a few words which the coroner addressed to the jury. “We are here to determine the cause and circumstances of the death of Sir Charles Drago, ninth Duke of Manchester. Whether it was suicide or whether it was a greater crime.”

The first witness, Charles’ business secretary, was called and sworn in. He testified that all monies collected for the Port of London were accounted for and that all business matters were in complete order, down to the last detail. Otis Grant-Stewart testified how he discovered the body, and the results of the autopsy were officially put into the record of the inquest.