Part 11 (1/2)

I suggest you do. I also suggest that you learn more about horses before you question Nell's opinion of them. If she considers Deacon good-natured, I have no doubt that he is. I'm afraid we must blame Simon's accident on Simon rather than his horse.

”But what about the razor, the hair?” I demanded.

Although the razor undoubtedly belongs to a member of the family, its owner doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the poison pen. The razor might have been lost, stolen, or borrowed at any time. As for the hair, Nell might have played in the nursery when she was a small child. She might have read the books and discovered Derek's elephant long ago.

”Derek told me that neither Nell nor Peter ever used his old nursery,” I said.

Since Derek never visited Hailesham with his children, I doubt very much that he knows where they went while they were here.

Though daunted by Dimity's a.s.sault, I was too stubborn to give in to mere logic and made a final attempt to sh.o.r.e up what was left of my flawless argument.

”Don't get me wrong, Dimity,” I said. ”I don't think Nell's evil. I think she's mixed up. I mean, she's stuck between two worlds. On the one hand, there's her grandfather, who expects her to make a power marriage. On the other hand, there's her father, who'd rather she marry Kit for love than anyone else for money. It doesn't get more opposite than that. She can't help being confused.”

Nell inspires confusion in others, Lori. She does not experience it herself.

”Maybe she thinks she can have it both ways,” I continued doggedly. ”If she frightens Simon off, Derek's place will be a.s.sured and one day Hailesham will be ruled by a kinder, gentler earl. When that day comes, she'll be able to live here and marry for love.”

You're treading water, Lori. You know as well as I do that Nell will do exactly as she pleases, regardless of Edwin's demands. The handwriting stopped for a moment, as if Dimity were reviewing the facts, then resumed. Your entire argument rests on the a.s.sumption that the poison pen hates Simon.

”Well . . . yeah,” I said, taken aback. ”Those notes aren't what I'd call fan mail.”

Imagine, if you will, that the poison pen loves Simon. Imagine that it's someone who sees the pitfalls of being Lord Elstyn's heir and wants to protect Simon from them.

”There are pitfalls?” I said doubtfully.

The estate is extremely costly to maintain. If the family's finances are in disarray, I cut her off. ”It's not about money. Gina's too smart to saddle her husband with a white elephant, and Simon would take Hailesham under any conditions. I told you, Dimity, he loves the place-and he's rich as Croesus.” I stroked Reginald's soft ears and gazed into the middle distance, struck by a new line of reasoning. ”Oliver . . .”

Oliver?

”Give me a minute,” I said, and tried to remember the wistful words Oliver had uttered during breakfast. ”Oliver loves his brother, but I don't think he knows how to express his love. He told me that he and Simon weren't permitted to be friends.”

I'm sorry to say that Edwin encouraged compet.i.tion between them, in a misguided attempt to prepare them for the compet.i.tive worlds of school and university.

”Oliver seems to feel sorry for Simon,” I said. ”When we spoke this morning, he described Simon as his perfect brother, then called him a poor chap, as if being perfect were some sort of burden.”

It's an intolerable burden to place on any human being. A perfect man can't ask for his family's help when he's being tormented. He must pretend that all is well, even when he's suffered a grave injury.

”Oliver said that Simon pretends to be happy,” I went on, ”and that he has no friends, only . . . a.s.sociates and allies.”

Simon has a wife. Isn't she his friend?

My lips tightened into a thin line. ”I asked the same question, Dimity, and Oliver told me that Gina isn't Simon's friend-she's a useful ally.”

Oh, dear. Poor Simon, indeed, if his attempts to live up to his uncle's standards of perfection have trapped him in a loveless marriage.

”Maybe Oliver's trying to help him find a way out,” I offered. ”I don't think Gina would be too pleased with Simon if he went AWOL from the summit meeting. It might cause a rift between them, especially if Gina married Simon in order to get her hands on Hailesham.”

In other words, Oliver might be hara.s.sing Simon in an attempt to free him from an unhappy marriage.

I nodded. ”You said that Oliver spent his holidays here as a child. He'd know where the kerosene is stored.”

He'd also have access to the straight razor, the nursery, the topiary, and Simon's bedroom. He'd be familiar with the back stair-cases and side doors.

”Oliver arrived at Hailesham before the others,” I said. ”He would've had ample time to leave the note in Simon's room and set the fire. He didn't go riding, either, and he went upstairs after breakfast. He could have made the second note and delivered it to Simon's room before Simon got back from the stables.”

Oliver seems worth a closer look. I suspect the straight razor will prove to be a useful starting point for the next phase of your inquiry, though I wish you hadn't removed it from the nursery.

”Why not?” I asked.

Its absence is certain to alarm the poison pen. I fear that he may decide to embark upon a more direct campaign against Simon-or you.

”Oliver's trying to help his brother,” I protested. ”He wouldn't hurt anyone.”

You're getting ahead of yourself again, Lori. We don't know that Oliver's the culprit, and until we do, we must a.s.sume that someone in this house is quite mad and possibly dangerous. Sleep well, my dear.

My flesh crept as Dimity's handwriting faded from the page, and when I considered the many uses to which the straight razor could be put, I was rather glad I'd removed it from the nursery.

”Lucky me, eh, Reg?” I placed the journal on the bedside table and switched off the lamp. ”I wanted to see behind the scenes at Hailesham and I've certainly gotten an eyeful.”

I no longer had any difficulty understanding why Derek had rebelled against his family. Their life of privilege came at too high a price. Claudia had been handed every advantage, yet she was as shallow as a birdbath. Oliver's finer feelings had been so thoroughly bludgeoned in childhood that he couldn't admit to loving his own brother. Simon seemed to me to be the saddest of the three, standing alone and lonely atop a precarious pedestal of perfection.

By breaking every one of his father's rules, Derek had found the best kind of happiness. He made a living doing work he loved to do. He adored his wife and children, and they, in turn, adored him. His rambling, imperfect manor house radiated an air of quiet contentment that reflected his hard-won peace of mind.

Perhaps, I thought, it was just as well that Lord Elstyn had fired his son's nanny. Derek's heartbreak had led him to reject things that weren't worth having-and to find things that were.

By the time Bill crawled into bed with me, I was much too sleepyheaded to talk, but we found other pleasant ways to pa.s.s the time.

Fifteen.

Bill was gone when I woke up, but I woke up smiling. Reality, I thought, could sometimes be sweeter by far than the sweetest dreams. I rolled onto my side and gazed lovingly at the sunlight streaming through the balcony door. For the first time since we'd arrived at Hailesham Park, I felt as if I were truly on holiday.

Then I remembered the straight razor and shot out of bed.

I showered in record time and dressed in the loose trousers I'd worn the day before, paired with a claret-colored silk blouse. I gave my damp curls a hasty comb-through with my fingers, tucked the poison-pen items into my pocket, and trotted next door to present the razor for Simon's inspection.

My knock was answered by the heavyset redheaded maid, who set aside her feather duster long enough to inform me that Mr. Simon had gone down to breakfast a half-hour earlier. I thanked her and started down after him. Since I couldn't very well brandish the straight razor over platefuls of kippers and sausages, I'd have to pull Simon aside for a private tete-a-tete after breakfast-unless his uncle nabbed him first.

Claudia, Oliver, Emma, and Derek greeted me as I entered the dining room. I returned their good mornings and did my best to disguise the frustration that welled up in me when I noted Simon's absence.

”Is Simon in with the earl again?” I asked as I loaded up my plate from the sideboard.

”Simon's gone riding,” said Claudia.

I dropped a serving fork. Oliver kindly retrieved it and handed it to Giddings, who carried it decorously from the room.

”Porridge this morning!” Derek proclaimed. He seemed remarkably chipper. ”I'd forgotten how much I love porridge. You should give it a try, Lori. It's drizzled with honey and swimming with sultanas.”