As time passed, Daisy’s roiling thoughts and feelings began to settle. Farthmore was dead, he could not hurt her. The Dagobert had sailed away and whoever else was looking for it would follow. She was safe.
The magistrate arrived and Lord Dalton took him and his men down to the beach to examine the body before it was moved.
They were gone for a good half hour and then the magistrate was shown into the drawing room. Sir Matthew was a well-dressed gentleman and Daisy guessed he’d been called out of some party or dinner he’d been attending. She felt some amount of pity for him as he was told the story of what occurred that evening. Everybody had something to add and statements came shooting at him like arrows from all directions.
Sir Matthew held up his hand to silence the room. “While I can only appreciate everybody’s willingness toward candor in this matter, I have not heard anything that Lord Dalton has not already informed me of so it may be what I know is sufficient for the time being. Lieutenant Farthmore was caught exiting the premises with a valuable item, a scepter that has been stolen from France, he fell upon the rocks, and his conspirators made off with the good.”
Sir Matthew paused, then said, “I would ask though, was thatallthat the lieutenant carried? Just the scepter?”
“No, as a matter of fact,” Lord Dalton said. “I was so intent upon the scepter that I forgot he also had a burlap bag. I have no idea what was in it—it might have been clothes he intended to change into once he’d safely boarded the boat.”
Sir Matthew, who had been handed a glass of the Riesling by Bellamy and looked very grateful to have it, shook his head. “Oh no, my lord, I know what was in that burlap bag and it was not clothes.”
The party leaned forward with bated breath, even Lord Burke and Miss Minkerton stopping their own conversation to listen.
“You see,” Sir Matthew said, “before I was fetched here, I was already looking for Lieutenant Farthmore. It seems he’d made off with Lady Montague’s jewels. Now, it all comes together.”
“He stole from Lady Montague?” Mrs. Jellops asked in wonder. “That seems…rather daring.”
Mrs. Phelps patted her friend’s hand. “Even after a shock, you fly right to the point, my friend.”
“As a matter of fact,” Sir Matthew said, “Mrs. Jellopsdoesfly right to the point. All this evening, as I had my men out searching the roads and trying to determine his route of escape, I kept wondering how he thought he’d get away with such a crime. Where would he live? Who would he sell the jewels to? Now, I understand his gambit was far more complicated than I had imagined. He was off to a different shore, confident that the scepter he stole from this house would finance him for all his days. I suspect the jewels he took were more for an amusing revenge than anything else. According to Lady Montague, they’d had some sort of argument over his rather constant drunkenness. Taking her jewels was his final adieu to the lady.”
“I do not suppose,” Daisy said, “there will be any way to find the scepter.”
Sir Matthew had taken a long and satisfying draught of wine and nodded to Bellamy in approval of its quality. He said, “Unlikely. I’ve sent a few boats out, but we won’t catch them. They’ll be running without lights and on their way to France or hugging the coast north or south, and we’ll not know which. The sea is vast and one’s best chance of catching a smuggler is to happen upon them by accident.”
“Well, that scepter was a horrid-looking thing,” Mrs. Jellops said. “Mrs. Phelps and I were in total agreement on that point. I wonder, can the French really miss it so much?”
Sir Matthew declined to comment on whether the French would miss part of their crown jewels. He said, “There will be an inquest of course, but with so many witnesses to what occurred, I suspect it will be dealt with promptly and will trouble you no more. The stickier problem will be what our government will ever decide to relay to the French government about their missing scepter. That, however, is well over my head. I only ask that you keep the knowledge to yourselves. Something was stolen from this house, no need to go into what it was. For now, let us claim it was some silver.”
Daisy nodded, only too glad to have a reason never to talk about the evening’s circumstances again.
“Well,” Sir Matthew said, with a longing glance toward the sliced ham on the sideboard, “I’d best be off.”
“Might we not tempt you to have something before you go, Sir Matthew?” Daisy said kindly, certain the poor man had been run off his feet this night.
“Very kind, Miss Danworth,” Sir Matthew said, his enthusiasm evident. “Very kind, indeed. I was just going into dinner when I was called away by Lady Montague. It has been an unexpectedly long evening.”
Mrs. Jellops and Mrs. Phelps had risen as one. Mrs. Phelps said, “Mrs. Jellops, you have read my mind. We must accompany Sir Matthew to the sideboard and point out the dangers of that mustard. It could fell even the hardiest of men.”
Mrs. Jellops nodded and said, “It appears thatyouhave readmymind, Mrs. Phelps. After the long night the poor gentleman has had, it would not do to fall over on account of devilishly hot mustard.”
And so, the two ladies escorted Sir Matthew to the board and supervised his filling of his plate.
As for Daisy, she had no thought to eat. She was content enough to listen to Mrs. Jellops and her new friend manage Sir Matthew’s plate and watch Lord Burke’s solicitousness of Miss Minkerton. Somehow, everything that had gone wrong was now put right. She supposed she would be asked to compose a statement for the inquest, but she had full confidence in Sir Matthew to guide them all through it.
Lord Dalton had left the room for some minutes, and now he returned and sat next to her.
“I have spoken to Mrs. Broadbent,” he said. “As I suspected, the maids are all in a tizzy. The footmen are equally shaken though they claim they are not and would pound the lieutenant into the ground if he were not already dead. Mr. Flanagan is a bundle of nerves, though he claims he is only fretting about how his mustard is going over. Mrs. Broadbent is as unruffled as ever. I directed them all to have a small glass of brandy, and Mrs. Broadbent just as quickly overrode me and insisted it be a medium glass.”
Daisy nodded and smiled to herself, remembering that when she’d first arrived to the house, she’d been so determined that the lord never direct her staff. Now, she was quite grateful for it.
“By the by,” Lord Dalton said in a quieter voice, “Farthmore fell because he tripped over the cat.”
Daisy looked up. “He tripped? Over the cat?”
Lord Dalton nodded.
