Chapter 74:
Wax and Wick
“What is this place, then?” Gerard asked as he, Finlay and Charles approached a small stone cottage about a mile and a half from the main house.
“Huntin’ cottage,” Finlay explained. “Been here for centuries. First house on the land, actually. I remember the old master used to like to come out here. Funny thing is, he didn’t shoot.”
“Then, why’d he come out here?” Charles chuckled.
“To get away from the Duchess, I’d wager.”
“Never met the Duchess,” Charles shook his head.
“Gamilla did.” Gerard smiled. “Said the woman was a real terror.”
“That’s the truth, lads.” Finlay nodded. “Though last I saw her, I was a wee boy--maybe five, but I remember her like it was yesterday. She was fierce, the Duchess. I remember our pa told me to keep ‘way from her. Never could let the old master have a moment’s peace. No. Even here…” Finlay pointed to the cottage. “I recall that time she were here—just shoutin’ and eatin’ and growin’ fatter. She found the old master here one warm night. Don’t know how she made it all the way out here, she’d been stuffin’ herself so full o’ food. You could hear her screamin’ all the way up at the house. That was when she took the place over for herself. Said the Grange was too cold. Turned the whole household upside down movin’ her out here. At least, then, Sir Colin could get a little sleep in the main house on his own.”
“Did the Duchess always sleep in here after that visit?” Charles asked.
“Nah. She never came back after that time. Don’t think she ever returned to Scotland at all. Sir Colin and Lord Julian did many times. Well, he was Lord Julian, then. Still not used to callin’ him the Duke. Lady Barbara’d come sometimes, too. Not as much. She were too much like her ma.”
Charles nodded.
“Still,” Finlay continued. “She were a pretty lass. Is it true she’s dead?”
“We don’t know.” Gerard said quickly.
“But, the baby they call Colin…he’s her son?”
“Yes.” Charles replied softly.
“You…errrr…” Finlay winked at Charles. “You knew her, then?”
“I’d prefer not to talk about it.” Charles growled.
“Fine, fine. Sorry, lad.” Finlay nodded. “And, you, then, Gerry? You got eyes for the African girl, I see?”
“Maybe.” Gerard squinted.
“What about you, Finlay?” Charles smirked. “You got a girl?”
Finlay chuckled.
“Well?” Charles continued. “You seem to think you’re quite clever. Are you clever enough for a girl?”
“What do you think, Charles?” Finlay laughed.
“Don’t know, Finlay. That’s why I’m askin’. You aren’t the only one with questions.”
“Come on, Mate.” Gerard scolded Charles. “Don’t tease, ‘im. Maybe he’s like the masters, then. You know…”
“Oh, is that it?” Charles asked.
“Could be.” Finlay winked.
“Ah…” Charles and Gerard said in unison.
Finlay laughed. From his pocket he removed a large brass key which he used to open the cottage door.
“Sorry for pyring,” Charles mumbled.
“I ain’t got no secrets.” Finlay snickered. “Now, give the door a push, would ya?”
Gerry and Charles leaned on the door with their shoulders until it opened.
“Always sticks.” Finlay shook his head. “Don’t know why we bother to lock it.”
“If the door’s locked, I don’t see how Miss Barrett could have gotten in here.” Gerard grumbled. “’Specially if it’s so hard to open.”
“Aye, but if a strong-headed lass is lost out here, don’t ya think she’d find a way into a safe place like this—key or no?” Finlay responded.
“True.” Charles snorted. He stepped in the cottage and called out. “Miss Barrett?”
Hearing no response, Charles frowned. “Stupid cow. Got the whole household out lookin’ for her. Even the masters! She’s such a selfish bit of baggage, that one!”
Finlay looked at Gerard. “So, is it love or hate, then?”
“Pardon?” Gerard asked.
“All the time we been lookin’ for this lass, Charles here’s been grumblin’ ‘bout how cheeky she is and how rude and how useless. A man only says such things ‘bout a woman in two events. Either he loves her or he hates her. So, which is it?”
“Ask him.” Gerard grinned.
“Well, lad.” Finlay cocked his head to one side.
“I loathe her.” Charles growled.
“Sure ya do.” Finlay laughed.
“I do!” Charles scowled. “It’s not just me either. I know that Dr. Halifax hates her, too.”
“But, does the Duke?” Finlay asked.
“Dunno.” Gerard shrugged. “The Duke’s so nice to everyone, it’s hard to think he hates a soul. His Grace is always giving people a chance. Thankfully for both of us.”
“Sure, but Miss Barrett takes advantage.” Charles sputtered. “Look what she’s done! She’s made His Grace take care of her sick brother, but she’s rude right to his face. Right to his face! Kind as he is, too! And, she’s always doing selfish things like this. She thinks only of herself. Meanwhile, Gamilla is having to look after Colin on her own—she’s not even had a chance to get settled in her room, yet! But, does Miss Barrett care? No—she wanders out of the house all alone and, then, we all have to look for her!”
“Steady on, laddie.” Finlay chuckled. “Now, does His Grace know ‘bout this woman? Does he know she’s takin’ advantage?”
“I’m sure that the doctor’s spoken up ‘bout it.” Gerard nodded. “But, His Grace can’t imagine hurtin’ anyone’s feelin’s.”
“Killed a bloke not a month ago, though. Didn’t he?” Finlay smiled. “Maybe he don’t want to hurt no one’s feelin’s, but seems that he doesn’t mind hurtin’ a body.”
“How’d you know ‘bout that?”
“Folk talk.” Finlay shrugged. “I heard from one of the lads at Balmoral. So, did he do it? Did His Grace kill that fella?”
“He admitted to it.” Charles responded.
“That, to me, means he didn’t do it. Who’s he coverin’ for, then? That handsome doc? Is that it?” Finlay asked.
“What is it with you Scots?” Charles shook his head. “Don’t know your place.”
“Oh, look who’s talkin’!” Finlay laughed. “I saw you both with your masters—all smiles and jokes You’re more mates than you are valets. Who doesn’t know his place now?”
“Fine…” Gerard grumbled. “No, the Duke didn’t kill that fella. But, the doctor didn’t neither.”
“Gerry!” Charles spat.
“He were gonna keep at us ‘til he found out anyway.” Gerard shrugged. “Just like Mrs. North did ‘bout Colin.”
“You can trust us all.” Finlay said. “The folks in this house seen all sorts o’ things and ain’t said a word to no one. Maybe them lads at Bamoral are willin’ to talk ‘bout Their Majesties, but you’ll find us at the Grange to be a good deal more loyal.”
“I’m glad.” Charles replied, still looking around the cottage.
“She ain’t here.” Gerard shook his head. “Let’s keep lookin’.”
“Wait.” Charles squinted. He sniffed the air.
“What is it, lad?” Finlay asked.
“I smell wax and wick…” Charles walked over to a small candle stand and touched the taper. “This has been lit. It’s still soft.”
“No one’s been in here since two days ago when we readied the place for the master’s arrival.” Finlay raised his eyebrows. “Not one of us, anyway.”
“Miss Barrett has been in here.” Charles frowned. “I’m sure of it.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-73? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 75 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.
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