ANNE ASHLEY - An Ideal Companion

‘Naturally not. Even so, I’m sure numerous instances of murder have been committed among the ranks.’ Lady Beatrice, it seemed, was determined to develop the theme. ‘After all, where better to conceal a murder than on a battlefield already strewn with corpses?’

She then again favoured Dr Dent with her undivided attention. ‘And gentlemen engaged in your profession are equally well placed to rid themselves of those they do not wish to exist, without causing undue suspicion, don’t you agree?’

The doctor visibly bridled at this accusation. ‘I shall take leave to inform you, ma’am, that those engaged in my profession do their utmost to preserve life, not terminate it!’

Lady Beatrice’s mouth twisted unpleasantly. ‘That may also be so,’ she acknowledged. ‘But I am equally certain that some have hastened the deaths of patients, whether by accident...or design. Like the Colonel, here, practitioners are equally well placed to commit the undetectable murder.

‘And the most unlikely people do commit murder, you know,’ she continued, after pausing to stare almost accusingly at each of her listeners in turn. ‘Why, anyone sitting here this evening might be quite capable of committing such an act... And might well have done so.’

‘By heaven!’ Tristram Boothroyd exclaimed in a jocular fashion. ‘Best lock the bedchamber door tonight. What say you, Colonel?’

Unperturbed, and even smiling faintly, Hugo reached for his wine again. ‘No need to take such precautions, lad. I’m a light sleeper.’

Ruth, for one, didn’t doubt it for a moment. For all his appearance of relaxed affability, not much, she suspected, ever escaped his notice. In fact, Colonel Prentiss was not an easy man to judge at all. As Lady Beatrice had intimated earlier, he gave little of himself away. For instance, it was impossible to assess just what was passing through his mind at the present time: whether he had taken Lady Beatrice’s remarks seriously or not. As for herself she didn’t know what to think. For all that her ladyship didn’t entertain frequently, she lacked none of the social graces. None the less, murder hardly seemed an appropriate topic for dinnertime conversation!

‘You quite unnerve me, ma’am,’ Ruth said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. ‘If what you say is true, it must be nigh impossible to judge who is capable of committing such a crime. I, for one, could not point an accusing finger at any person here present. So, unless one happens to see or hear someone plotting, or committing the act itself, how on earth could one recognise a person capable of committing murder?’

With the contours of her mouth set in a thin smile, Lady Beatrice appeared supremely satisfied. ‘There you have it, my dear! Disregarding the obvious exceptions— those who are observed actively engaged in acts of violence—it is extremely difficult to judge who might be capable of committing such a heinous crime... It is not always so straightforward, either, to assimilate what one has witnessed.’

‘Oh, come now, ma’am!’ Mr Blunt, the stooping-shouldered little lawyer, countered staunchly, thereby proving at a stroke that his appearance of timidity might not have been an altogether accurate assessment of his character. ‘Surely one must know whether one has witnessed murder or not?’

‘Do I infer correctly from what you’ve said,’ Hugo put in calmly, ‘that you believe you did witness such an event yourself, ma’am?’

‘Not the act itself, Colonel, no,’ Lady Beatrice responded, after once again staring at each and every person present. ‘I witnessed the prelude and the aftermath.’

‘I trust you reported what you did see to the appropriate authorities?’ the lawyer enquired, thereby breaking the silence which followed the startling disclosure.

Raising her chin, Lady Beatrice regarded him down the length of her aristocratic nose, much as she might have done a menial. ‘But what did I witness, after all, my good man? Two persons, standing close to a cliff edge, who happened to be exchanging high words. I was not raised to indulge in vulgar curiosity, so did not linger to discover what the altercation between the two might possibly have been about. Besides which, I had concerns of my own to occupy me at the time.

‘But when I had walked some distance,’ she continued, after a moment’s reflection, ‘and chanced to turn, I noticed just one of those I had glimpsed earlier walking back in the direction of the coastal town. At the time it never occurred to me to wonder what had become of the other. It was only a month or so later, after reading a report in the newspaper of a body being discovered amongst some rocks on a certain stretch of coastline, that I began to wonder, and realised, too, that I had been acquainted with the dead man.’

Tristram Boothroyd’s suggestion that it might have been an accident was instantly challenged by Hugo. ‘Were that the case, lad, I would have expected the incident to have been reported by the dead person’s companion. You heard Lady Beatrice say this other person was seen walking back in the direction of the town. Had it been an accident, surely there would have been some urgency in getting help?’

‘That is precisely the conclusion I eventually drew, Colonel,’ Lady Beatrice revealed. ‘As I mentioned before, at the time, I did not recognise the victim. It was a blustery day and he had the collar of his cloak turned right up, besides wearing a hat and having his back towards me. The other person’s face I did see quite clearly. Although this other was a complete stranger...justice might still be served... The passage of time is kinder to some and they change very little. What is more, I never forget a face, you see...not ever,’ and so saying she rose to her feet, inviting the ladies to join her in the drawing room.

Ruth, for one, was more than happy to oblige. Although capturing the gentlemen’s interest, the conversation over dinner hadn’t been quite the norm, and she was pleased to be granted the opportunity to discuss less controversial topics with the ladies in the drawing room.

Lady Beatrice, as was her wont, positioned herself by the hearth and, once tea had been dispensed, appeared quite content with her own company and private thoughts, leaving it to Ruth to entertain the ladies as best she could. She began by remarking on the lucky chance that so many were putting up at that particular inn at Lynmouth and were able to share the cost of the innkeeper’s services. ‘Not so lucky with the weather, though, sadly.’

‘No, indeed,’ the attractive widow agreed. ‘Although Dr Dent, his sister and I were all born in the area, we never met until recently. My father was the vicar of a small parish near the town. My sister and I lived quite a solitary existence—my sister still does, come to that. It wasn’t until I was obliged to seek employment and attained a post as a governess that I began to experience life.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘I suppose I must have seemed very naïve in those days... In fact, I know I was—a little country mouse. Most unworldly!’

‘Oh, I do not think anyone would call you that, Mrs Adams,’ the doctor’s sister countered. ‘If I may say so, you seem a very capable woman, quite able to take care of yourself.’

The widow smiled wryly. ‘I suppose marriage and widowhood have added greatly to my experiences,’ she responded in a quiet, reflective way, ‘not to mention raising a child on my own and owning and running a profitable little enterprise.’

Ruth was impressed. Very few women went into business. There just weren’t the opportunities. Marriage was the only option for most of her sex, or engaging in one of the so-called genteel professions, such as a governess or paid companion.

‘How do you support yourself, if you do not mind my asking, Mrs Adams?’ she enquired, after glancing in the direction of the hearth to discover Lady Beatrice, eyes closed, looking very comfortable in her chair. Ruth might have supposed her to have fallen asleep had not the lady of the house been smiling faintly, seemingly at some private thought.