With a swift and vicious precision, the cornered man swung his foot full in my brother’s face. Henry cried out and fell backwards, his hand clutching his nose. I cast aside the lanthorn and went to him. Blood trickled between his fingers, but still he strained against me, as tho’ he should have hurled himself at Hinton’s throat.

“Take care, my dear,” I muttered. “You cannot demand satisfaction of a murderer, Henry. He is beneath your notice.”

“Mr. Hinton!” the magistrate said accusingly. “Must you be tried for assault as well as murder?”

“I did not kill Shafto French,” he spat between his teeth,

“and well you know it, Prowting. French may have found cause enough to kill me; but I regarded the man as little as I should regard a slug worming its way through my cabbages.”

“So little, in fact, that you carried his body across the road and left it for the rats in this very cellar! Did you use your nephew Baverstock’s key for the business? We are aware, Mr. Hinton, that he may possess one. You cannot deny, man, that you stood here. For the last time, Mr. Hinton: What explanation will you offer for your actions? ”

Of a sudden, the fury seemed to drain from Hinton’s countenance, to be replaced by the coldest contempt. “I should never feel myself called upon to offer an explanation to you or any of the present miserable company. I am the last true heir of the Knights of Chawton, Prowting — and must consider myself above your jiggery-pokery Law. ”

“Very well,” the magistrate replied. “Then John-Knight Hinton, it is my painful duty as magistrate to arrest you — for the murder of Shafto French.”

Chapter 17

Too Long in the Back

Saturday, 8 July 1809

“As the house was built in the late seventeenth century,” Lady Imogen observed as she led us into a long gallery at Stonings that was more lumber room than habitable space, “it remains firmly rooted in Palladio. The serene limestone façade, for example, is virtually free of adornment; no Jacobean chimneys or Tudor panelling are to be found, and as successive generations did not see fit to alter the original style, the house preserves a delightful unity — without the awkward shifting from epoch to epoch one so often observes in less modern creations.”

“Lord!” Ann Prowting exclaimed. “I wonder you can find your way to breakfast of a morning! I should require signposts in each passage to direct me from place to place. It is a vast pile, is it not?”

“Nearly three hundred rooms. Mr. Wyatt, whom we consulted regarding the improvements, has widened the whole and brought reason to the arrangement of the principal apartments.[21] This is the saloon,” Lady Imogen added, throwing open a set of lofty doors surmounted by a pediment, “ — where we often play at cards of an evening. The music room, where my instrument is set out, is adjacent. The apartment is our chief delight at present, as Mr. Wyatt’s work here is nearly complete.”

Mr. Prowting, whose anxious bulk hovered at my right elbow, managed a phlegmatic “Magnificent!”

It was a bright and airy chamber, with ivory-coloured walls and mouldings picked out in gold leaf; a massive chimney piece of carved white stone, in the form of nymphs supporting a plinth, dominated each end. The chief virtue of the room, however, lay in its great windows, which gave onto a delightful prospect of lawns and trees sloping gently towards the lake. This was skirted and surmounted in its narrowest part by a great stone parapet, over which our carriages had clattered only a few moments before.

We had set out from Chawton at ten o’clock, taking in Henry on our way. It was a smaller party than originally planned, my brother Neddie having pledged himself to all the cares and irksomenesses of Quarter Day, and being even now established in Mr. Barlow’s back parlour awaiting the appearance of his numerous tenants. My mother could not be torn from the vigourous excavations undertaken in her back garden, of which she had unflagging hopes; and Mrs. Prowting was indisposed for a long carriage drive in the heat of summer, but thought it highly necessary that her husband accompany the two girls. We had therefore placed ourselves at Miss Maria Beckford’s disposal, Cassandra and I taking two seats in the Middleton carriage. The three Prowtings and Miss Benn went in the magistrate’s barouche; and the three eldest Middleton girls went in a hired equipage with their maid. Henry had made a dashing cicisbeo, trailing beside Miss Benn on his hired hack, and offering charming observations on the suitability of the party; and the weather had not seen fit to disappoint. We had achieved the intervening miles at an easy pace, and arrived in Sherborne St. John a few moments before noon. We had been cordially met by Major Spence and Lady Imogen, who tarried only long enough to see our wraps bestowed on a housemaid, before conducting us through the marble-floored entry hall to the delights within.

“I am reminded,” Cassandra said in a lowered tone, “of the Duke of Dorset’s establishment at Knole, in Kent; but tho’ easily as extensive as this, that is a house in an entirely different style.”

Mr. Thrace, we were told, was still engaged in his morning’s ride, but was every moment expected. Lady Imogen looked as tho’ she did not notice her rival’s absence. She was in excellent spirits, her manner a mixture of the arch and the sweet that could not fail to please. She was clothed this morning in a light muslin gown of pale jonquil colour, with beribboned sandals on her feet, her countenance glowing with the animation of her speech. There was a kind of triumph in all her aspect that suggested a victory gained — and I felt a surge of anxious solicitude on the subject of my stolen chest. Such happiness could not be due merely to last evening’s win at cards — she had a deeper game in train, and appeared confident of her luck. The admiration of every gentleman in the room was evident; the rest of the ladies must be cast in the shade; and it was as well for my brother Edward that he had stayed in Alton — this lady was far too bewitching for his fragile state to bear. Major Spence did not need to proclaim his captivation: tho’ correct and more often silent than not, he frequently bent his dark eyes upon Lady Imogen’s face or form, and she did not move to a door or a chair but he was before her instantly as guide. How difficult must be the trials of such a man, placed in a position of subservience to the object of his ardent love! To offer his heart, as he clearly had done, in the shattering knowledge that were she to accept him, the match should be called a misalliance by the Great. Had she ever attempted to use her power over him? — Attempted, perhaps, to employ his allegiance against Julian Thrace? I could hardly say. Lady Imogen showed Spence nothing more than easy affection, of a sort she might have reserved for a groom that had placed her, long ago, upon her first pony.

As I stood near Cassandra in the elegant saloon, and gazed out at the picturesque view offered through its windows, I considered of the beauties of the Earl’s estate — and very nearly forgave the theft of Lord Harold’s precious documents. To be mistress — or master — of Stonings was an ambition that might inspire any number of crimes!

“And to think that all this has been left slumbering for years!” Henry declared.

“Having never expected to inherit the title — he was a younger son, you know — my father was disinclined to live in the style befitting an Earl,” Lady Imogen replied. “I do not think his lordship’s memories of childhood in this place are entirely happy ones. And having been a single gentleman for much of his life, he naturally prefers to maintain an establishment in Town — near his clubs and cronies — or retire to his shooting box when a craving for the country seizes him. I cannot remember when we last visited Stonings together; when I was no more than three, I daresay.”