When It Rained at Hembry Castle Chapter 28

The Intruder

E

dward arrived at Hembry Castle a fortnight after Daphne and Frederick returned from London. He had to finish some Observer business first, let Tewson know what needed tending to next, and he had to wrap up the story he was working on because Fergusonandwately were going to publish it separately since there was such demand for his work. He was becoming a literary commodity, Edward, and requests for appearances were flooding in. He was still overworked, but he managed to attend a number of the dinners in his honor, and he conducted himself in a gentlemanly way that made the literary establishment take notice. Still, no matter the high sales, no matter the positive critical reviews, no matter the dinners or the speeches, everything was a blur to Edward except thoughts of Daphne.

It had turned out all right in the end. Frederick had pressed his weight as the Earl of Staton in the right way—he wasn’t too overbearing while at the same time making Chattaway understand that he would use his family’s money, and solicitors, to extricate Edward from this unfortunate situation. Would Chattaway truly be happy for his daughter if she were married to someone who loved another? Thankfully, Chattaway came to see sense. To Edward’s surprise he received a letter from Christina, a lovely letter, where she wished him well and reminded him that she had predicted this long ago. As for the scandal, as of yet, a fortnight on, nothing much had happened. Lord Staton predicted the gossip would die away in time, especially once Edward and Daphne were married.

Edward was grateful to be back in the country, back to his fiancée. He walked the winding village roads in Hembry, passed the stone buildings, and nodded at the onlookers, who were even more curious than usual as they glanced in his direction and whispered. Edward doffed his hat and offered good day to everyone, he was in that kind of mood. He made his way up the steep hill then went round to the servants’ entrance. As he walked across the small yard with the straggling green sprouts that barely poked above the dirt he watched two giggling maids hurry by, their heads close, their hands in front of their mouths. Edward guessed they, too, were talking about him. He was, after all, the upstart butler’s grandson who was marrying Lady Daphne. He thought of Daphne, her full lips pulled into a thin string, looking remarkably like her grandmother, whenever someone referred to her as Lady Daphne. There was never a young woman less inclined to be part of the aristocracy, for which Edward thanked God every day.

He heard the scrambling as the servants went about their business, and no one noticed his knocking. He heard laughing, he heard scolding, he heard a footman whispering things, improper things, most likely, to one of the housemaids. Finally, the two housemaids Edward had seen a moment before opened the door and allowed him to pass. When Lainie Graham saw Edward in the servants’ hall she pointed her accusing wooden spoon at him.

“What are you doing here, young man? You should be upstairs. The fiancé of the daughter of the Earl of Staton shouldn’t be hanging around with the likes of him.” She pointed her spoon first at the peacock and then at the stairs. “Go on. Upstairs with you.”

“Upstairs with whom, Mrs. Graham?” Mr. Ellis pressed his spectacles against his nose as he studied the cook.

“Your grandson is here, Mr. Ellis. I told him he should go upstairs.”

“She doesn’t want me near Henry,” Edward said. “She thinks he’ll corrupt me.”

“If he hasn’t corrupted you by now, I dare say you’ve survived the worst of it.” Mr. Ellis turned to the cook. “Thank you, Mrs. Graham, but as I’m sure you know my grandson is a stubborn one and if he wants to come downstairs he will come downstairs. He gets his stubbornness from his grandmother, I’m afraid.”

“But he’s part of the family now,” Mrs. Graham said.

“Yes, he’ll be part of his lordship’s family, but he’ll always be part of my family.”

“Oh no!” cried Mrs. Graham. “Not you too!”

Daphne smiled at the cook. “Not me too, Mrs. Graham?”

“Lady Daphne in the kitchen!” Mrs. Graham muttered to her wooden spoon as though it were the only one that could hear her. “What will the Countess say if she knew Lady Daphne was in the kitchen?” She dropped her head, too heavy suddenly for her neck. “Lady Daphne in the kitchen…”

“I’ve been in the kitchen before, Mrs. Graham,” Daphne said, though the poor woman didn’t seem to hear since she was still speaking to her spoon. Daphne watched the cook with amusement. “I’m afraid I’ve scandalized Mrs. Graham.”

“She’ll recover,” Mr. Ellis said.

Edward pulled Daphne close and kissed the top of her hair. “Hello to you too.”

Daphne laughed, and he loved her even more, as if that were possible. “Yes, hello. I’ve missed you.”

“And I you.”

Mrs. Ellis stood in the doorway in the hall, watching her grandson and his fiancée. She beamed with a grandmother’s pride, but there was a sadness within her that cast a shadow over the bright joy radiating from the young couple.

“What is it?” Mr. Ellis asked. Mrs. Ellis shook her head and disappeared into her sitting room.

“Should I speak to her?” asked Edward. “Is she upset with me?”

“Not at all. Your grandmother has other troubles on her mind.”

“It isn’t Father, is it?”

Now it was Mr. Ellis’ turn to cast a shadow. Edward exhaled, a puff of frustration, and Daphne took his hand.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

“That is kindness itself, Lady Daphne,” said Mr. Ellis, “but I don’t see what can be done.”

“Would it be too much for you to call me Daphne? We are going to be family.”

“It would be too much, Lady Daphne, but I appreciate the sentiment. I’m certain her ladyship wouldn’t care for such familiarity.”

Edward leaned close to Daphne. He was still getting used to the idea that he could be near her, speak openly to her, bask in the sweet fragrance in her hair, without worry. “I’ve been afraid to ask…how is your grandmother taking our engagement?”

“She won’t speak to me, which makes life interesting since I live here. Papa said the announcement about our engagement will be in the papers Thursday morning.”

“That’s when it’s scheduled for the Observer.”

“Then everyone will know and my grandmother won’t have a choice but to accept it.”

“Knowing Lady Staton, she might see it as only a temporary setback. I wouldn’t be surprised if she brings on a new contingent of suitors to try to tempt you away from the butler’s grandson.”

Daphne stood on her toes and leaned her face up to Edward’s. “There is no one in the world who can tempt me away from the butler’s grandson, Edward Ellis.”

Edward kissed Daphne’s lips. He would have no trouble getting used to having her close.

Summer passed into autumn.

Suddenly, it was November and life at Hembry Castle settled to a pleasant early winter null. The intruder had not been seen for months, and neither had Detective Ruckson or his sergeant son. The detective had been convinced by the lack of evidence to the contrary, and he allowed the initial conclusion that Richard’s death was an accident stand. The court of public opinion was still out, however, and the gossipers and naysayers were unwilling to let go of the matter. Packed into the village post office so tightly they hardly had space to expand their abdomens and breathe, villagers rehashed the same theories countless times. When that topic was exhausted, they had a titter or two about the Earl’s daughter marrying the grandson of the family’s butler and housekeeper. The villagers liked Lady Daphne, and they didn’t fault her at all. She was American and didn’t know better. There were a few whispered words about how the Countess was allowing her only granddaughter to throw away her life by marrying beneath her. However, the more open-minded among them reminded everyone about Lord Adner’s daughter, who had the audacity to elope with a troubadour passing through England on his way to Spain, or from Spain, or was it Australia? Whatever had happened, Lord Adner was doing perfectly well, and Lord Staton and his family would survive too.

On a chilly November afternoon, Daphne found her father at his desk in the library, a thin glimmer of sun reflecting off the river in the distance, leaving a haze filtering through the window.

“What is it, Papa?” Daphne asked.

“I knew being Earl would be hard, but I didn’t realize how hard until I took it on.”

“Has something happened?”

“Nothing unusual. I suppose the approaching wintertime is making me melancholy. I’m feeling trapped, and I’ve always hated the feeling of being stuck somewhere and unable to get myself out. I felt trapped here as a boy, so I ran to America to make a life for myself, and now I’m forced to remain with no way out except the grave. Heavens. I’m beginning to sound like Richard.”

“Papa.” Daphne stepped closer to her father. He had been looking drawn lately, his handsome features weighted down, but she thought it was a passing problem.

“I apologize, Daphne. It’s selfish of me to burden you like this.”

“That’s a very English thing to say. You know you can tell me anything.”

“Yes, of course I know that. You see, I knew Richard felt trapped in his role as Earl, and I was selfishly relieved that the title was his destiny and not mine. Now the title is in fact mine, and my instinct to run away has grasped hold of me once again.” Frederick saw the time on the clock on his desk and sighed. “I’m afraid I must go. Business to tend to, you know.”

Mr. Ellis stood in the doorway. “My lord, do you recall the intruder who was seen around the grounds after your brother’s death?”

“Of course. Has he been found?”

“He has. Apparently, the young man has been camping near the river again. Mr. Harvey was suspicious since it looked like there had been a campfire. He went out especially early this morning and caught the young man still asleep in his blankets.”

“Where is he now?” Daphne asked.

“Mr. Harvey took him into his cottage.”

“Have you contacted the police?” Frederick asked.

“Not yet. The young man seems confused somehow, as though he doesn’t remember who he is. He certainly doesn’t remember where he is. He appears to think he’s in London, my lord, by the Thames. He keeps stretching out his arms and shouting ‘Richard!’ as though he sees your brother.”

“It sounds like he needs a doctor more than the police,” Daphne said.

“I haven’t yet contacted the police for that reason, Lady Daphne. The young man appears to be delirious.” Mr. Ellis looked at the warming fire. “It’s been rather cold the last few nights. Even though he seems to have burned a fire, it couldn’t have been very big. The odd thing is, my lord, I believe you know him. He dined here when you first arrived back at Hembry. Mr. David Palmer is his name.”

“I remember Mr. Palmer,” said Daphne. “He’s the one who winked at everyone, isn’t he, Papa?”

“I believe you’re right. But why on earth would he feel compelled to stay outside in this weather? He should have made himself known.”

“I don’t believe people knock on the door of Hembry Castle without a previous invitation, my lord.”

“That’s true enough. Poor fellow.” Frederick looked through the window and watched the rain soak the ground outside. “Have you sent for Mr. Wilson?”

“Mrs. Ellis sent for the doctor as soon as we learned of the young man.”

“If the doctor thinks Mr. Palmer can be moved, have him brought here. Ask Mrs. Ellis to make up a room for him.”

“Very good, my lord.”

Frederick dropped onto the sofa. “Blimey. Why do you think Mr. Palmer would camp outside? And why would he claim to see Richard? He was great friends with your uncle. Surely he knows Richard is dead.”

“When Mr. Wilson thinks it’s all right, we can ask him,” Daphne said.

Frederick glanced at the butler standing in the doorway. “Thank you, Ellis.” Mr. Ellis didn’t move, standing one foot in the shadows, his face in the light. “Yes?”

“My lord, forgive me, but I was wondering. Since the young man seems to be so agitated and drawn to the place where your brother lived, and since he’s been spotted several times near the river, perhaps not the one where the body was found, but…”

“Do you think the young man had something to do with my brother’s death?” Frederick asked.

“The thought occurred to me. He does seem rather fixated on your brother, my lord.”

Daphne looked at her father. “Should we alert the police after all?”

“If there’s any possibility this young man was involved in funny business concerning your uncle, I would certainly want the police involved. However, I can’t help wondering if we’re not bringing more trouble onto our heads by bringing this up when we’re not certain what we’re dealing with. The young man may simply be grieving, as we all are.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I’ve never had a friend I’ve grieved to the point where I’d risk sleeping out in the November cold to mourn him.”

“You may be right, Ellis. Let’s see what this young man has to say for himself.”

Mr. Wilson, the new doctor in Hembry, told Lord Staton that young Mr. Palmer could be moved into the castle the next morning. Mrs. Ellis put the visitor in the Green Room with the hunter green furniture, white wainscoting, and Roman busts on the walls. When the doctor told Lord Staton the young man was ready for visitors, Frederick brought Daphne since her gentle manner had proven helpful with those facing illness or other hard times. Daphne hardly recognized the young man she had met at luncheon over a year before. She remembered how he looked then, a finely dressed young man about Edward’s own age, his long fair hair tucked behind his ears. Yes, he had been agitated even that first time when he couldn’t stop winking at everyone. Now he looked lethargic, his eyes no longer winking but wide as though they might never close again. He jumped at every sound, shuddered at every word, and he was so thin Daphne thought he would become as translucent as water if he didn’t eat soon. She brought him some of Mrs. Graham’s vegetable soup, which he seemed to enjoy during his luncheon at Hembry, but now he would eat nothing. Lord Staton pulled the doctor aside.

“What’s wrong with him?” Frederick asked.

“I’m not certain. He caught a chill from sleeping outside in the cold, but he doesn’t have a fever. He’s been hallucinating, calling to your brother, reaching his hands as though he were trying to pull your brother toward him. Then he sleeps the rest of the day.”

“How peculiar.” Frederick watched the young man, who was stretched out on his back watching the shadows on the ceiling. “Are you certain it’s all right for us to be here? He doesn’t look well.”

“Your company will do him no harm, and may even do some good. Look.”

Daphne cajoled one spoonful of soup into Mr. Palmer’s mouth, and then another spoonful, and then another, until he had eaten nearly the whole bowl. As Daphne dabbed the soup from the patient’s lips with a napkin, she shuddered. Something in that moment reminded her about the shadows she saw everywhere at night. She thought of the whispers in the corners and the creaking stairs, and then the young man trembled as well. Did he see the shadows too, she wondered? When Mr. Palmer wouldn’t accept another spoonful of soup, Frederick sat beside the bed.

“Hello, Mr. Palmer. I hope you’re feeling better. I was so sorry to hear you’ve been unwell. I do wish you had made yourself known instead of sleeping outside in this weather. You would have been most welcome.” Mr. Palmer, his fair hair plastered to his forehead, stared at the green wallpaper as though he hadn’t heard a word. “I understand you’ve visited Hembry a few times since my brother’s death.” Still nothing.

Frederick looked to Daphne for help. Daphne sat on her heels next to her father. “Mr. Palmer, I remember when you joined us for luncheon. I know my Uncle Richard was a good friend of yours. You must miss him very much.”

Young Mr. Palmer sat up, his eyes wider, as though he had seen a ghost, which perhaps he had. “Richard! Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

Daphne wanted to weep for the young man. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Palmer, but my Uncle Richard has died. He…” She was going to let him know how her uncle had fallen over the side of London Bridge, but she decided against it, thinking it might be too much for the fragile young man.

David Palmer grasped Daphne’s hands so tightly she flinched. “But I saw him!” He released Daphne from his grip and grabbed Frederick’s hands instead. “Mr. Meriwether, I saw him!”

Mr. Wilson was about to speak, but Frederick held up his hand, stopping him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Palmer. I truly am. I can hardly believe it myself, but I saw my brother’s body after it was pulled from the Thames. Those were his clothes, his watch, his shirt pin. That was the same half-moon scar he received when we were boys. I know this must be difficult for you, but you must be brave. My brother wouldn’t want you to mourn him all your days.”

“I’m not mourning him. I’m searching for him. I saw him, I tell you, I saw him!”

Daphne covered her face with her hands. The sight of the anguished young man was too much. David Palmer tried to get out of bed, but the doctor pressed him down.

“Not yet, Mr. Palmer. You’re not strong enough to be up quite yet.” The doctor held the door open. “I’m sorry, Lord Staton, but I think it’s best if you and Lady Daphne leave the young man to rest.”

“Do you have instructions for us on how to care for Mr. Palmer when you’re not here?” Daphne asked. “Mr. Hough used to leave written directions. Writing things down makes it easier for us to remember everything we should be doing.”

“If you’d like me to write down the directions, Lady Daphne, I’m happy to do so.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wilson.”

Daphne followed her father from the Green Room. She stood in the hallway beside him, holding his hand, remembering all too painfully the morning when the Ellises woke them to say her Uncle Richard was gone. Mr. Palmer’s torment made her feel as though she had to deal with her beloved uncle’s death all over again.

“That poor young man,” Frederick said. “I knew he and Richard were friends, but I never would have guessed that Richard’s death would touch him so deeply.”

“Uncle Richard had many friends, and I’m sure they all miss him, as we do.”

Daphne hooked her arm through her father’s and they walked from the hallway, leaving the young man time to recover.