Page 95 of A Devilish Element
“You’re not making a great deal of sense, Ludlow, my friend.” Jem remarked, echoing Eliza’s thoughts as they both drew level with him. “Maybe you could explain whatever it is that’s got you in its grip. A theory of some manner. What is it you warned him about? You’re referring to Linfield, right?”
“It’s not a matter I wish to get into. Not without consulting the earl.”
“The earl ain’t here, but a murderer is. For heaven’s sake, man, tell us what you know.”
Eliza encouraged him with a nod too, desperate to hear. “Please. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. A thought has clearly occurred to you.”
“It’s apt you should mention ghosts at this point, Miss Wakefield, for it’s not so long ago that I saw one. Not the white lady that roams this accursed castle but a face out of my past in unexpected circumstances.” He stumbled a few paces then and fell heavily on to the chaise longue. “I should not speak of this. He would curse me for it, and not just dock me pennies, but likely throw me out. I swore an oath of silence.” His gaze snapped to the open doorway. Through that portal, Eliza could just make out the outline of Linfield’s body, and the sickly green glow of his exposed organs.
“He’s no longer in a position to punish you, nor is he about to rise from eternal slumber to do so. The dead don’t walk, Doctor.”
Bell nodded appreciative of her sensibility. “It was still an oath.”
“But if it relates to his murder…” Jem interjected, both brows raised encouragingly.
“It can’t be. Surely.”
“Ludlow, for the love of Christ, what do you know? Are we still talking about Mrs Honeyfield, or something else?”
“Perhaps,” he muttered, confusingly. “Did she ever happen to mention her husband’s name?”
“Lord, I don’t know,” Eliza cried, her frustration with the physician flanking Jem’s. “Why is it important?”
“Because I fear Linfield was entirely responsible for his demise.”
“What?” She rocked back on her heels.
“You had better explain what you mean,” Jem said.
The pair of them tilted forward onto their toes in readiness of hearing him.
Bell waved for more liquor, which he swallowed without delay. “Jem, you’ll recall that ridiculous carriage race.”
“All too vividly,” he replied, shoulders hitching towards his ears. “But that was a woman who died—”
Bell made a noise in his throat that rather suggested Jem was mistaken.
“The newspaper reported it was a woman too,” Eliza added. “I read about it before I ever came here and found it to show to Jane. She wanted to know what had necessitated the move to Cedarton for Linfield had never told her, merely insisted on it.”
“It was definitely a woman,” Jem confirmed. “I had a rather closer view of her than I cared to if you recall, Ludlow. I took notes for you, before you had her carted off to your address to do whatever you needed to do. There were plenty of witnesses to that race and the accident. One hardly needed the services of a professional to determine the cause of death.”
“That was not the reason I whisked the body away. I was preserving Linfield’s reputation, not to mention making sure an old friend wasn’t made the subject of the scandal sheets in perpetuity. At least what reports reached the newspapers recorded the passing in a way that would’ve pleased him. As much as any report of a tragedy could.”
The darks of his eyes reflected their eager faces when he looked up. “What you saw, Jem, was precisely what the person wished you to see. However, if you had peeled back the layers of their disguise, then the body you uncovered would have revealed a different tale. The woman who died, Janie Faintree, was not born with that name. I knew them first as John. John Faintree. We met while I was attached to St Thomas’s Hospital, and he was working as a dresser. A good one too. Knew his stuff. Very nimble with his hands. Dainty for a man, but he made up for it with wit.”
“A cross dresser,” Eliza gasped.
Bell nodded. “It’s not as uncommon as you might suppose.”
“I did not suppose any such thing. I have eyes and I read. I’m aware there are mollies in every town.”
“Aye, indeed, there are.”
“Don’t look at me,” Jem decried. “I’ve never knowingly set foot inside such an establishment.”
Bell looked sheepish. Eliza couldn’t help some measure of scepticism from bleeding into her expression. Still, Bell returned to his tale. “We lost touch when I moved on from St Thomas’s, but I heard through a mutual acquaintance, that John had passed the apothecaries exam and determined to set up practice rather than complete another year to become a physician. One supposed he’d done it for love. He’d married when he was barely old enough to do so, and gossip suggested she wished them to set up home together. She’d remained in the countryside in service while he trained, so I was given to understand, but the family for whom she worked had learned of her marriage and dismissed her in favour of an unwed girl.”
“God forbid that a married woman earns her way,” Eliza muttered. When Bell glared at her over the interruption, she waved him to continue.
