Dark Road to Darjeeling. Deanna Raybourn

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СКАЧАТЬ the whole of the trouble then be laid at the door of the twin pressures of Jane’s widowhood and impending motherhood? I had seen enough of my own sisters become hysterical while they carried to know that it was not the most docile and sensible of times. And coming hand in glove with widowhood—I could not imagine the strain upon Jane’s nerves. They would be strung taut as bowstrings, and it would take very little more to make them snap.

      No, there was no evidence as yet that Freddie had been murdered, and for all my excited sleuthing and recording of suspicious behaviour in my notebook, I had quite forgot the most important part of any investigation was to begin at the beginning. Clearly, the beginning here was determining the cause of Freddie Cavendish’s death. I buried my face in my pillow, deeply chagrined that I had started so wide of the mark, and doubly glad that Brisbane had not been about to see it. I should start fresh in the morning, I promised myself. I would ask the right questions of the right people, and I would learn all that I could about the mysterious doctor who had lost his wife to a man-eating tiger.

      At last I slid into sleep, but even as I slept I heard the high, keening cry of the peacock, calling over and again in the night.

      The next morning I arose full of determination and plans, all of which were thwarted almost immediately.

      I had thought to call upon the doctor with a pretense of some minor ailment, but Portia flatly refused to leave the estate.

      “Jane cannot leave the house, and I cannot leave Jane,” she informed me. The dark crescents purpling the skin under her eyes told me she had not left her the whole of the previous night.

      “I slept in a chair,” she confirmed as she helped herself to breakfast. She took only a piece of toast and some tea. A lone stewed peach sat forlornly upon her plate. “Today I will have a small bed moved into her room, so I will be there in the night should she have need of me.”

      “You will wear yourself to nothing if you do not get proper food and rest,” I said mildly. “And then who will nurse Jane?”

      Her face took on the mulish expression I knew too well. “I am stronger than you give me credit for, Julia. I trust you will find something to amuse yourself.”

      I toyed with my own peach. It had been well cooked, with a dusting of nutmeg in the syrup, but I had little appetite. “I had thought to call upon the doctor. It would be much more appropriate if you came with me.”

      “Out of the question,” she said, but to mollify me she took a bit of porridge. “I have far too much to do. I have a trunkful of books I have not yet read. I can read them to Jane. Also, she would like to see the garden, so I must have her bed moved a little to give her a view from the window. And her linen ought to be changed freshly each morning. I will have to instruct the maids.”

      Portia was a force to be reckoned with when given her head, so I sat back and merely sipped at my tea as she narrowed her gaze in my direction.

      “What do you mean to do today, dearest?” she asked.

      I thought a moment. “We still do not know if Freddie was murdered,” I said, casting a quick glance over my shoulder to make quite certain we were not overheard. “If this doctor is so incompetent, it might merely have been a bungled job on his part. I was so busy pondering motive I never bothered to find out precisely how Freddie died. That must be the first order of business.”

      Portia nodded, but her gaze was faraway, and I knew the question of Freddie’s murder was nothing to her so long as Jane was in need. I sighed. I was alone in my investigation, I realised, with no faithful companion to help me gather evidence or sort impressions.

      Except perhaps Plum. He was at loose ends, I reflected, with neither occupation nor encumbrances. He was quick-witted and could be discreet if the importance of discretion had been impressed upon him. And he was charming enough to entice information out of anyone if he chose. Yes, he would do quite nicely, I concluded.

      And just as I made up my mind to make a partner of him, Plum entered the breakfast room, resplendent in a cherry-coloured waistcoat and a cravat of striped green and white.

      “It is a very fine day today,” I told him. “So fine it would be a waste for you to stay at the Peacocks,” I began with an eye to inviting him upon my investigations.

      “Indeed,” he agreed. “And that is why I mean to begin my sketches of Kanchenjunga. I have in mind a series of paintings based upon the mountain, perhaps even a mural.”

      He attacked his food with gusto. “And you?”

      I summoned a bleak smile. “I suppose I shall pay some calls. Alone.”

      Determined to pursue my investigations even if I must do so alone, I collected my things and left word with Miss Cavendish not to expect me to luncheon. The second cook provided me with a bit of flat Indian bread and some crumbling white cheese to put into my pocket should I have need of it, and I took up my parasol, buoyed by the thought of properly beginning my own investigation at last. I had just reached the front door of the Peacocks when I heard my name called. I turned to find Harry emerging from his office carrying a small bundle.

      “If you mean to go abroad on your own, you must take this,” he advised me, unwrapping the bundle and holding out his hand. Upon his palm lay a small pistol, a delicate feminine piece with mother-of-pearl inlaid upon the grip.

      “It looks like a toy,” I observed. “A very pretty toy.”

      “Pretty but lethal,” he corrected. “You were country-bred, so I presume you know how to fire it. Mind you’re careful. It is loaded.”

      He brandished the pistol and I shied. “Is the valley so thick with brigands that I must go armed?” I asked with a forced air of jollity.

      But he was stingy with his charming smiles that day, and I was struck by the seriousness of his expression. “Not brigands. Tigers, one in particular, as I am sure you have heard. He’s a nasty brute, and you are our responsibility. I have already made certain that Mr. March was armed before he left to go sketching. I would be remiss if I did not do the same for you, Lady Julia.”

      I reached a tentative hand to take the pistol from him. “Forgive me, but I hardly think so small a gun could stop a tiger,” I observed.

      “It is not for the tiger,” he said soberly. “It holds two shots. The first is for you should you be attacked.”

      My mouth felt suddenly dry, my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth. I tried to swallow. “And the second?” I asked. I raised my eyes from the pistol in my hand to his grim gaze.

      “There would not be time for the second. Believe me when I tell you not to hesitate. I have seen the alternative and it is not the sort of death any human being should suffer.”

      I secured the pistol in my pocket. “I suppose I ought to thank you, Mr. Cavendish, for the loan of the weapon.”

      “Pray God you never have to use it.”

      He swung round on his booted heel and left me then, returning to his office and closing the door firmly behind him. I felt the weight of the pistol, small as it was, through the layers of petticoats. I sighed, wishing yet again that Brisbane had come. But he had not, and mooning about would solve nothing, I reminded myself firmly. I went in search of Jolly.

      I had a few СКАЧАТЬ