Page 63 of The Heir
“Yes,” said Jane. “But if Dr. Maton or Mr. Rea knew that it was something he believed, or something he had said, and perhaps used to convince somebody of his importance . . .”
“They could hold that against him,” said Victoria. “Mother would tolerate almost any lie from him, but not him saying that . . .” Mama believed bastardry was a sin, that it irrevocably tainted the person. She would not tolerate knowing Sir John had married such a person, had fathered her children....
“He would do almost anything to keep that rumor from her.”
The words fell heavily, and Jane sucked in a sharp breath, as if she wanted to take them back into herself. But it was too late.
Victoria looked down at her book. “You were right to tell me. I’m sorry I shouted.” Victoria quickly sketched a little duck flapping its wings and frowning at the world. Jane smiled just a little. She reached across with her own pencil and added a speech bubble so that the duck was quacking at the top of its lungs.
Victoria added three ducklings in the water. Jane added a fourth caught in the act of diving down, so its tiny bottom pointed to the sky. Victoria grinned and wrote,Let’s walk on. There’s something I want to do before I’m called back indoors.
Jane looked at her.
Victoria smoothed the page down and wrote,We need to talk to the groundskeepers. Let me have Dash’s ball.
* * *
Thankfully, the men were still about their business in the gardens. Getting close to them was easy enough. Victoria took Dash’s ball and tossed it for him to chase. The spaniel loved his toy, but he loved new people more and quickly abandoned the ball in the grass to go and make new friends, and also to investigate what fascinating mysteries surely awaited in the herbaceous border.
“Oh dear!” Victoria hurried to fetch her truant dog, with Jane at her heels.
The groundskeepers took off their hats as she reached them, and bowed.
Victoria beamed at them. She also picked up Dash, who wriggled and licked her chin.
Victoria turned to the head groundskeeper. Richards was his name, she remembered. He was not an old man, but a life outdoors had left him tough, tanned, and wrinkled, despite his broad straw hat and loose smock. He was tiny and wiry, but she had the impression he was perfectly ready to move a mountain with a shovel and barrow if the job required it. “I do apologize for Dash, Richards,” she said. “I hope he did not do too much damage.”
“No harm done, ma’am,” the man said calmly.
“I’m glad,” she replied. “I appreciate you have been given more than the usual amount of trouble of late.”
This puzzled him. “Well, now, ma’am, I would not say so. ’Tis always a busy time of year. Must make hay while the sun shines, if you understand me, but—”
“But this business with Dr. Maton. It is very hard.”
“Ah. Yes.” Richards scratched his stubbled chin. “Very sorry about it, I was. Always very gentlemanlike, Dr. Maton. Heard young Simpson there coughing one day and gives him a going-over on the spot. Says he’ll send round some special syrup, and he did that the next day. Did the lad a world of good. Thoughtful like that, he was.”
Victoria nodded. “It must have been a shock to find him so.”
“Well, it was, and it wasn’t. I mean, it’s sure a shock when Sir John comes to get us, says, ‘Bring a barrow.’ Says Dr. Maton has dropped down, God rest him, and he must be got home. ‘Mustn’t be any fuss,’ he says. So, we gets the barrow, and pon my soul, ma’am, we took as much care as we could.”
“I am sure that you did.”That explains the wheel marks Jane saw.
“Coulda told him so much walking wasn’t good for a gentleman his age,” Richards went on. “Not bred to it, like.”
This startled her. “Did Dr. Maton walk on the green that much?”
“Oh, yes, he was always back and forth across there. All weathers. At least once a week, if not more. Not a problem for someone like me.” He chuckled and flexed his wiry arm. “Used to it, you know, but he was a city man, if you understand me.”
“I do indeed,” said Victoria solemnly. “Now, I must not keep you from your work any longer.”
The men all bowed, and Victoria strode back to the path, with Jane right behind her. Victoria put Dash down, retrieved the ball, which Jane had remembered to collect, and tossed it. Dash barked and ran, and Victoria watched.
“Which of us will say it?” breathed Jane.
“I will, if you like.” Dash had caught up with the ball and now galloped back to them.
Jane nodded.
