Page 45 of A Victim, A Viscount, And Miss Mifford
"Thank you, my lord," she said, with a tight smile, before continuing on her path home.
And this time, she did not look back to see if he was still watching her, for she could not bear the pain.
Jane did not expect to hear from Lord Crabb so soon, so the next morning, when a knock came upon the door to Primrose Cottage, Jane assumed that it must be a parishioner. A foolishly optimistic parishioner, she thought, for her father was still abed.
Nora went to answer the knock and was gone a few minutes, before she returned to the kitchen ashen faced and clutching a letter in her hand.
"That was James," Nora stuttered as she passed Jane the letter.
"Has something happened at home?" Jane guessed, for Nora looked genuinely distraught.
The maid shook her head, her eyes wild, and Jane placed a hand on her elbow to guide her toward a seat. Once seated, Nora began to rock back and forth, keening like a widow of old.
"What is it, Nora?" Jane pressed, worried now. Nora was usually so hardy—an essential characteristic when one had Mrs Mifford as a mistress—so to see her this upset meant something terrible had happened.
"It's all my fault," she whispered, as she rocked back and forth.
"What's all your fault?" Jane questioned, eager to understand, "What has happened?"
"He called yesterday," Nora babbled, not specifying who this "he" was, "I told him that Mr Bennett had been sighted on the estate—which is true—and I hinted that Flora had encouraged him there—which I might have made up. Oh, why did I let my jealousy get the better of me? I knew what type of man he was, but I never expected this—"
"For heaven's sake, Nora," Jane interrupted, "What on earth are you talking about?"
"It's Flora Bridges," Nora sniffed, "She was found unconscious on the London Road; hit on the back of the head with a rock by the looks of things."
"Goodness," Jane lifted a hand to her mouth, her mind racing, "Who on earth would have done that?"
"Weren't you listening?" Nora wailed, "It's all my fault; I told Lord Crabb yesterday that Mr Bennett had taken to calling up to Plumpton Hall at night and I pretended that Flora was encouraging him—when the opposite is true, she thought him a nuisance. Lord Crabb must have been so incensed by the news that he tried to beat her to death; he has a penchant for murder, as we all know."
Poor Nora, Jane thought; the jealous could be troublesome to others but were always a torment to themselves. She had acted out of spite, hoping to hurt Flora, but had not expected this result—not that this result was any of her doing.
"Lord Crabb did not murder anyone," Jane stressed, offering Nora a consolatory pat on the hand, "Nor did he attack poor Miss Bridges. You did not act in a manner befitting of a girl of your good nature, Nora, but you did not cause Flora any physical harm."
"I wish I could take it back," Nora wailed, burying her face in her apron.
"Well, keep that in mind the next time you are tempted to be spiteful," Jane responded, evenly.
She spotted the bottle of Madeira that Northcott had gifted her father, corked and standing on the counter-top. It was nearly finished, but Jane managed to pour a large enough measure for Nora, which she handed to the sobbing maid.
"Drink this," she said sternly, "It's medicinal."
Nora sipped upon the wine and some of the colour returned to her cheeks. Once her tears had finished and she seemed more at ease, Jane gave her a bracing smile.
"Do not fret, Nora," she said, "I am sure that Miss Bridges will make a recovery. Now, I shall go up to Plumpton Hall and see what Lord Crabb has to say about the matter. Will you be alright to make breakfast?"
Nora nodded her head slowly in response to the question, her usual exuberance absent.
"Good girl," Jane cheered her, "If anyone asks where I am, tell them that I have gone for a walk."
With that, Jane left the kitchen in search of her shawl and bonnet, eager to be on her way. Had the viscount been mistaken in thinking that Flora had been involved in Lord Crabb's murder? Or was she involved, and the true perpetrator wished to silence her?
So many questions had formed in Jane's mind, but she knew the only answers she would find would be at Plumpton Hall.
Chapter Twelve
The news of the attack upon Flora Bridges had sent Plumpton Hall into a frenzy. She had been discovered lying on the road the previous night by a farmer on his way home from The Ring'O'Bells. He had rushed to the Hall for help and the groomsmen had gone out to fetch her, carrying her back in one of the carriages.
She currently lay in one of the upstairs bedchambers, unconscious but—according to Dr Bates—expected to recover.
