Death Comes to the Rectory, page 1
Books by Catherine Lloyd
DEATH COMES TO THE VILLAGE
DEATH COMES TO LONDON
DEATH COMES TO KURLAND HALL
DEATH COMES TO THE FAIR
DEATH COMES TO THE SCHOOL
DEATH COMES TO BATH
DEATH COMES TO THE NURSERY
DEATH COMES TO THE RECTORY
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
DEATH COMES TO THE RECTORY
CATHERINE LLOYD
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2021 by Catherine Duggan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2020944029
The K logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-2325-3
First Kensington Hardcover Edition: February 2021
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2327-7 (ebook)
ISBN-10: 1-4967-2327-9 (ebook)
Thank you, Sandra Marine, and Ruth Long for reading this manuscript and offering me your amazing feedback.
As this is the last book in the series, I’d like to thank everyone at Kensington Publishing for giving me the opportunity to write the Kurland St. Mary mysteries. I also offer my gratitude to all the readers who have enjoyed the books over the years.
Chapter 1
Kurland Hall,
Kurland St. Mary, England, 1826
“Robert, I just had a rather odd letter from my aunt Jane.”
Lucy, Lady Kurland, came into her husband’s study, the closely cross-written letter still in her hand. It was a cold day in Kurland St. Mary, with sullen gray skies holding the promise of snow. No one had yet ventured out for very good reason.
“Odd?” Robert looked up at her from his position behind his desk, where his two dogs slept quietly at his booted feet. “Your aunt Jane is one of the most upright and starchy people I have ever met. I doubt she even knows the meaning of the word.”
“Well, that’s just it.” Lucy returned her attention to the letter. “She says that Julia will no longer accompany her to Elizabeth’s christening and that Julia’s engagement to Lord Penzey is at an end.”
“Your aunt Jane is going to be Elizabeth’s godmother, so why does it matter whether Julia comes or not?” Robert asked. “If Julia ended her engagement, she might not feel like attending a party in the countryside with a bunch of curious relatives.”
“But we have already received our invitation to the wedding. Aunt Jane doesn’t say whether Julia called it off or whether it was Penzey.” Lucy frowned as she turned the letter sideways to read her aunt’s crossed scrawl.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because if Julia did it, that will damage her chances of attracting another suitor because she will be considered flighty, and if he did it, then I suspect my uncle will be inquiring as to why.”
“And taking Penzey to court to air the family dirty linen?” Robert shrugged. “I can’t see that happening, can you?”
“It depends how far the marriage contract has progressed, and whether any money has changed hands.” Lucy sighed. “Whatever the outcome, I cannot help but worry about my cousin.”
Robert rose to his feet and came around the side of his desk to wrap a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulders. “My dear girl, you have enough to worry about organizing this christening without taking on a problem that I am fairly certain the Earl and Countess of Harrington can deal with perfectly well by themselves.”
“You’re probably right,” Lucy admitted as she briefly rested her head against her husband’s shoulder. “Aunt Jane says Max will be joining them instead.”
“Max?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “Now, why on earth would a young man about town allow himself to be roped into a family christening?”
“Because he’s in disgrace again?” Lucy consulted the letter. “Apparently, Max is in debt. My uncle is refusing to even discuss settling his obligations and has insisted that Max accompany them to the christening.”
Robert sighed. “I’m glad our children are still young.”
“I can assure you that neither Ned nor Elizabeth will ever behave like this,” Lucy said tartly.
Robert chuckled and flicked her cheek with his fingertip. “Don’t be so sure, my dear. As you well know, I was quite wild in my younger years. Now, are you ready to accompany me to the rectory? I need to speak to your father about the new pony for Ned, and, I’m fairly certain you will enjoy a comfortable chat with my aunt about all the arrangements for the christening.”
“She has offered to put some of our guests up in the rectory, which is very kind of her considering the twins have just come home for the school holidays,” Lucy said as she tucked her hand into his elbow and headed toward the stairs. “I can’t believe how much Luke and Michael have grown!”
“They are certainly going to be as tall and broad as your father,” Robert agreed. “I can’t imagine how much food they consume, can you?”
“Having been my father’s housekeeper for years before my marriage, and responsible for ordering supplies for all my brothers, I can tell you that Cook will be kept very busy,” Lucy replied.
Robert paused at the top of the stairs and looked up toward the nursery above. “Shall we take Elizabeth with us?”
His obvious adoration and devotion to their newly born daughter had taken Lucy somewhat by surprise. She never mentioned it directly, because it was such a pleasure to watch her rather stern husband leap to satisfy Elizabeth’s every whim.
She glanced out the window. “As I suspect it is about to snow, I’d rather she stayed in the nursery in case she catches a cold before her christening.”
“You are probably right.” Robert resumed walking. “It would be a shame to ruin her big day—especially when her godmother is going to be a countess.”
As Elizabeth had been born earlier than expected and was rather small, Lucy was aware that she was a little overprotective of her daughter. She had delayed the christening until her father had begun to ask some rather pointed questions about his granddaughter remaining a heathen. At three months old, Elizabeth had gained weight and was a charming, sunny child whom everyone said greatly resembled her mother.
It was unusual for Aunt Jane to confide family business to Lucy, and this made her wonder just how difficult things had become in the titled branch of her father’s family for her formidable aunt to stoop to explanations and excuses. Max would not enjoy the christening, which would irritate his parents and probably make matters between him and his father even worse.
As Lucy put on her bonnet, stout boots, and warmest coat, she promised herself that whatever happened at the ceremony she would find a way to deal with it. She was known as a remarkably resourceful woman who had faced down murderers and thieves. A mere christening should not trouble her at all.
* * *
After greeting his aunt Rose, whose marriage to his wife’s father had somewhat complicated their family relationships, Robert retired to the rector’s study. His father-in-law was an avid horseman, rider to hounds, and dog breeder, and thus the perfect person to choose a horse for Ned, who at the age of four was itching to ride by himself. It was a skill Robert was unable to teach him without resurrecting too many memories of his horse rolling on top of him at Waterloo.
He’d taught himself to drive a gig again, and could tolerate being in the stables, but the ability to watch over his son while he learned to ride with all its terrifying implications was beyond him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he’d had to accept it. Luckily, his staff and his horse-mad father-in-law were more than willing to teach Ned all he needed to know.
The choice of a suitable pony had diverted the rector’s attention from his three congregations for at least a month, and Robert was heartily sick of the matter. As a child, he’d scrambled onto the back of any horse he’d been allowed to mount without concern for the horse’s disposition, height, or breed. He’d been thrown off a few times, which was entirely his own fault, and perhaps, on reflection, not something he would wis
“I’ve found the perfect pony for Ned.”
Robert redirected his wandering attention to his father-in-law.
“Ah, finally! I mean, that is excellent news. Is the pony close by?”
“Yes, indeed! In Kurland St. Anne of all places. A retired groom of mine bred him, and I couldn’t wish for a better animal.” The rector cleared his throat. “As to the matter of payment, I instructed Albert Lawrence to send the bill directly to you. I did not have the necessary funds on me to pay for the transaction when I met with him yesterday.”
“That’s quite all right.” Robert said. “Will the pony be brought over to Kurland Hall, or do we need to fetch it?”
“Albert will bring him over. We thought we should wait until after the christening, then surprise Ned for Christmas.”
“An excellent suggestion.” Robert nodded. “He’s not been happy about Elizabeth’s arrival and has been making his feelings known rather too loudly. I suspect rewarding him with a pony right now is the last thing he needs. In fact, I’ll keep the little blighter away from Ned for good if his behavior doesn’t improve.”
The rector chuckled. “I remember Tom being most indignant when his younger brothers and sisters arrived. He kicked the cradle and insisted that it was still his and that no one else should be allowed in there.” His smile disappeared. “Alas, poor Tom didn’t live long enough to experience the joys and travails of being a father himself, God rest his soul.”
“Indeed.” Robert allowed a moment of silence to develop between them. Tom, the rector’s oldest child, had died in the wars Robert had barely survived. “I know that Lucy still misses him very much.”
The rector busied himself pushing a pile of papers to one side on his desk. “The first Mrs. Harrington and I lost two children shortly after their births, but somehow it is far worse to lose an adult son.” He looked up at Robert, his gaze clear. “Please do excuse my reminisces. I do not normally choose to dwell on the negative, but this year has been rather trying.”
“It must gladden your heart to have the twins home for Christmas, then, sir?” Uncomfortable with his father-in-law’s unusual display of emotion, Robert attempted to redirect the conversation into a more positive vein. “They are growing into fine young men.”
“Yes, they are.” The rector glanced at the stack of papers again. “But, goodness me, their school fees are enormous.”
“Perhaps you could find a school closer to home so they don’t have to board?” Robert suggested.
“Oh, no, that wouldn’t do at all,” the rector said firmly. “The Harrington family has always gone to Harrow and Eton.”
Even though Robert had attended a lesser public school and suffered no harm from it, he declined to get into an argument. His father-in-law was the second son of an earl and held himself and his family to very high standards. Robert doubted the twins would care where they went to school, but it was not his place to interfere. He would leave that to his wife.
Robert bowed. “Well, I am glad that you have found a suitable pony for Ned, and I offer you my thanks. Tell Albert Lawrence to send the bill directly to Mr. Fletcher up at the hall.”
“It was a pleasure.” The rector stood and gestured to the door. “Shall we go and join the ladies? I’m sure Lucy will want to discuss the final details for the christening. Like most women, she does tend to fuss somewhat.”
Robert made no reply to that and instead followed his father-in-law through to the back parlor, where his aunt and wife were ensconced. The twins were nowhere to be seen, as they had gone out to visit their old village friends and would probably not return until dinnertime.
Rose looked up and smiled as they entered the charming parlor.
“Ambrose! Robert! How lovely of you to join us. Would you care for some tea?”
“That would be most welcome.” Robert came to sit beside his wife. “And, although I am quite certain Lucy has already offered her thanks for your offer to accommodate some of our guests for the christening, I’d like to add mine.”
“Oh, it’s no bother.” Rose waved away his concerns. “You know I love having guests—the more the merrier.”
The rector cleared his throat and directed such a searching gaze at his wife that even Robert noticed. “Are you quite certain, my dear?”
“I am.” Rose smiled up at her husband. “And I promise that you won’t be put out at all, Ambrose. I have everything in hand.”
Robert studied his aunt carefully. She did look a little tired, but with everything that was going on in the rectory—with the twins returning, the preparations for the christening, and the yuletide celebrations—he wasn’t surprised. If Lucy had any concerns for his aunt’s welfare, he was fairly certain she would share them with him later.
A tap at the door announced the arrival of the kitchen maid with a fresh pot of tea. Robert couldn’t help but notice that the rector helped himself to a brandy from the decanter on the sideboard instead. It was unusual for his father-in-law to start drinking so early in the day, and he wondered if his sharp-eyed wife would comment on it.
As the maid left the room, there was a small commotion in the hallway, and a man raised his voice.
“If you please, Maddy, I just want to speak to the rector. I won’t take but a moment of his time.”
Robert instinctively rose to his feet as the man entered the room and then relaxed as he recognized a familiar face.
“Good morning, Mr. Harper.”
The owner of the local mill took off his hat and stared down at his boots.
“Morning, Sir Robert. I don’t want to intrude, but I need to have a word with the rector, here.”
“What about?” Robert glanced from Mr. Harper to the rector, whose color was rising alarmingly and who appeared to have been struck dumb.
“It’s his bills, Sir Robert,” Mr. Harper blurted out. “He owes me almost a year’s worth. I wouldn’t normally ask, but my wife has just given birth to a new baby, and I need the money something rotten.”
Robert put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and drew him back toward the door.
“Come with me, Sid, and let’s see if we can straighten this out.”
After sending Sid Harper up to the hall with a note for Dermot Fletcher, Robert returned to the parlor to find his father-in-law pacing the rug in front of the fire, his hands joined behind his back.
“The cheek of the fellow! How dare he come into my wife’s parlor demanding money?”
Robert leaned back against the door and regarded the rector steadily.
“Perhaps he needs to feed his family?”
“I meant to pay him! It’s a paltry sum, and it just slipped my mind. He could’ve waited until the next bill was due and written me a letter, but no, he had to turn up here and insult me.”
“He was hardly insulting, sir,” Robert said quietly. “In truth, he was mortally embarrassed to have to raise the matter with you at all.”
“Well, so he should be,” the rector sniffed. “As I will no longer be a customer of his, I can tell you that.”
“But, Father, you have always told me that he is the best miller around,” Lucy interjected, her worried gaze going between Robert, Rose, and her father. “And—”
“I did not ask for your opinion on this matter, Daughter.” Lucy’s father cut across her. “May I suggest you concentrate on managing your own household and leave mine alone?”
He stormed out of the parlor, slamming the door behind him.
Lucy’s mouth snapped shut, and Robert instinctively moved toward her.
“Perhaps it is time for us to leave as well, Lucy.”
Rose put her hand on his arm. “There is no need for that, my dears. When Ambrose calms down he will realize that no one is holding him at fault here. We all realize that he has many obligations both pastoral and spiritual to occupy his time and can be forgiven for forgetting a tradesman’s bill.” She paused to resume her seat. “Maybe I should have made sure that the bill was paid on time.”
