Caught in a Cornish Scandal by Eleanor Webster (best books for 20 year olds TXT) 📕

decorated with a plethora of paintings depicting horses, hunting or hounds.

‘Mrs Ludlow is my sister. I understand she is being held here. I would like my sister to be released into my care,’ Sam said.

‘She is not “being held” exactly and I would love to release her, but there is a problem with that,’ Sir Anthony stated somewhat incoherently, pushing his gold spectacles further up his nose.

‘What might that be?’

‘Please, do sit down. A brandy?’ Sir Anthony suggested, lifting a decanter conveniently located on his desk.

‘No, thank you. This problem with Mrs Ludlow’s release?’

‘Yes, well, the fact is she refuses.’

‘Refuses?’

‘Yes, sir. She won’t leave.’ Sir Anthony’s forehead shone with perspiration and he dabbed at it with his pocket handkerchief.

‘Why?’ Sam sat, trying to process this new information.

‘I...um... I am not exactly sure.’

‘Then can I see her?’

‘Again, there is another problem. I certainly would never prevent you from seeing your sister, but the thing is, we had to get Dr Acton. She was rather upset and he prescribed a sedative.’

‘That was necessary?’

‘Yes, she was distressed, but she is now resting. I invited my sister, the rector’s wife, to stay to ensure propriety. Her child is also here. I mean Mrs Ludlow’s child, not my sister’s, as she is old—not that she would like that description—and the child’s nursemaid.’

‘Gracious, you have a full house. She would not return home?’

‘No. Indeed, she was quite insistent. Actually...’ The man blinked rather rapidly from behind his round spectacles, then placed his plump fingers together in the shape of a steeple. ‘I had not wanted to bring her here. I merely wanted to ask her a few questions at her house.’

‘She asked to come?’

‘She was most insistent. And brought her child. I must say I did not know what to make of it. Anyway, the whole thing quite upset me so I decided it best to consult Dr Acton. Nice fellow, you know. You’re certain you won’t take a brandy?’

Sam again shook his head while Sir Anthony poured himself the libation. Frowning, Sam leaned heavily back in the chair, recognising his own exhaustion as he tried to take in these new details. ‘Does she feel unsafe at home?’

‘She...um...did not say so.’

‘Did you ask?’

‘Well, no, one doesn’t like to pry, what.’ The man swallowed.

‘Given the situation, it might have been relevant. So what were her reasons for staying?’

‘Mrs Ludlow is experiencing a somewhat strained relationship with her mother-in-law. High-strung creatures—women, you know. Never married myself. Do not have the stamina.’

‘Do you know the cause of this strain?’ Sam asked.

The man paused in obvious discomfort, again dabbing at his forehead. ‘Mrs Ludlow senior feels that your sister might... I mean, that it is possible...that she could be involved in her husband’s...um...disappearance.’

‘Her own mother-in-law thinks that? It is ludicrous. My sister is physically and emotionally the most unlikely person to do anything to harm anyone. What motive would she have?’

‘I do not want to be indelicate.’ Sir Anthony pursed his lips as if even speaking the words was distasteful.

‘You are suggesting my sister harmed her husband. I do not think you need to worry about delicacy.’

‘Not me...would never accuse—’ Sir Anthony stopped after meeting Sam’s impatient gaze. ‘Mr Ludlow was known to enjoy the company of other women,’ he concluded.

‘Good Lord. If that was all that was required for murder, half the wives in London would be guilty.’

‘Except...’ Sir Anthony paused again as though unwilling to continue. ‘The other wives you speak of have husbands who are still hale and hearty while your sister’s...isn’t.’

‘We do not currently know whether Jason Ludlow is hale and hearty or not.’

‘True enough. Indeed, it is my greatest hope that he returns, healthy and hearty. It would be one less thing for me to do. I would never have become a magistrate if I had known the work involved.’ Sir Anthony reached for the decanter again, pouring another drink.

Sam rubbed his temples. There was little point, he supposed, in rousting his sister and child, particularly if she had had a sleeping draught. Moreover, he could hardly drag her back to a place she did not want to live. Sir Anthony seemed a pleasant enough fellow, if somewhat inarticulate, and he felt certain Marta would ensure that every measure of comfort was provided.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will return in the morning. I brought her maid with me and would like her to stay. I am certain she could help her mistress and provide comfort.’

‘Yes, of course, very happy to oblige,’ the magistrate said. ‘This is all very troubling, I must say.’

Sir Anthony rang the bell, his eagerness to finish the unpleasant conversation quite palpable. The butler arrived promptly and they all moved into the hall. Sir Anthony directed the butler to ensure that Marta had accommodation and that every comfort was provided for both mistress and maid.

Sam exited, thankful to sit back in his vehicle. Although, as the vehicle headed towards Manton Hall, Sam had to admit he would not have minded also imposing on Sir Anthony’s hospitality. The idea of staying at the hall was not enticing. Its owner was presumed deceased. His own absence had, apparently, been covered up by the butler with some ridiculous story about dawn horse rides, and its mistress was in such fear that she refused to remain there. Meanwhile, the other Mrs Ludlow was throwing around foolish accusations. Sam could only hope he escaped to bed and did not have to interact with her tonight.

Indeed, respite at Manton Hall seemed more a recipe for a melodramatic play than a goodnight’s sleep and, for a moment he wondered if he should find an inn. However, he dismissed the idea. He would not find anything to stimulate his memory within the smoke-filled walls of a tavern or the bottom of a tankard.

Chapter Eight

Millie woke late the next day with a confused disorientation as she stared about her bare bedchamber. Her every muscle ached and she had the feeling that she had slept for days, although she could scarcely