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Authors: Sarah Rayne

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It seemed incredible there had not been a search for her. But perhaps there had. Perhaps people had tried to find her, but been unable to do so. And it had been 1939 – the lights were about to go out all over Europe for the second time that century and England stood on the brink of chaos.

How long had it taken her to die? Had she died in darkness or had it at least been when a few threads of light were coming in through the small, round window – the window at which she had stood, trying to attract attention? The window where Michael had seen her that day . . . ?

In the same soft voice, he said, ‘I don’t know if I can arrange for you to be buried next to Harry, because his body’s probably in France. But if I can, I’ll find out where he is, and if there’s any way of ensuring you lie alongside him, I promise you shall.’

With the words, he had the vivid impression that a small, soft hand slipped into his and held it firmly for a moment. He stood very still, wanting the sensation to go on, willing there to be more.

But there was not. The feeling melted, and there was only the dusty attic.

Brooke Crutchley’s body was cremated in a brief, private ceremony one week after Christmas. Michael and Nell attended, together with Inspector Brent.

‘Unusual case,’ said the inspector as they walked away from the crematorium. ‘Very distressing for you to find a thing like that in your house, Mrs West.’

‘Yes, it was. At least we can give him an identity, though,’ said Nell.

‘Forensics confirm he died from a blow to the skull,’ said Brent. ‘We’ll never know the truth, but I expect some kind of long-ago local feud was at the heart of it.’

‘I expect so,’ said Michael, in an expressionless voice, and Brent glanced at him.

But he only said, ‘I looked in the files for the account of the William Lee case, as you asked.’

‘I got interested in some of the area’s history,’ said Michael, sounding slightly defensive. ‘And there were all those stories about William Lee still walking—’

‘People like a nice ghost story,’ said Brent indulgently. ‘As long as they don’t actually have to meet the ghost themselves, of course. But in the main, Lee’s case seems straightforward enough. He was arrested on the thirtieth of November, 1888. There was one odd thing, though—’

‘Yes?’ said Michael again.

‘The arrest took place in the old asylum – Brank Asylum. One of those grim old Victorian institutions from all accounts. Long since gone, of course. But seemingly Lee had gone there to visit his daughter, and the attendants heard her screaming. When they got to him, Lee was cowering in a corner of the room, flailing at the air with his hands as if he was trying to hit someone who was attacking him.’

Michael and Nell exchanged a quick look, then Nell said, ‘
Was
someone trying to attack him?’

‘What? No, there was no one there except the child, and she was lying on the ground, her face covered in blood. Lee had assaulted her. They arrested him, and once he was in custody he confessed to the murder of his wife. Open and shut case. They hanged him soon afterwards.’

Charect House, January 20—

Michael—

I
knew
you’d get Wilberforce into print! It’s terrific news about the publishing deal, and I hope you screwed a huge advance out of them. We’ll want signed copies next November, of course. Good date to bring out a kids’ book as well – exactly right for Christmas. And I don’t know why you’re worried about balancing
Wilberforce
with Oxford. If C.S. Lewis and Tolkien could do it, so can you.

Liz and I are knocked out by Charect House. It’s the most beautiful place ever, and we don’t know what persuasions you used on the builders to get the work done, but they’ve made a great job of everything.

We loved being with you at Christmas and staying in the Black Boar, and we think Nell is one very cool lady. How is the hunt for antique premises in Oxford getting on? Liz says when Nell finds a shop, she should expect us to be the first customers. Ellie is wringing promises out of us that we will bring her to Oxford to meet Wilberforce, so you’re both likely to be invaded.

Ellie is entirely fine now. The nightmares have vanished, and she loves England. There’s been no more mention of ‘Elvira’, I’m relieved to report. Although Ellie does seem to have found another imaginary friend – can you believe that? This time it’s an English gentleman who likes to walk round the gardens here and sit in the orchard. I swear that kid’s mind is so full of stuff . . . There’s no man, of course – we’ve made sure of that. The gardens are perfectly secure, and Liz keeps a watchful eye.

But an orchard, for pity’s sake. There might once have been an orchard at the far end of Charect’s garden, but there certainly isn’t one now. But Ellie insists that tomorrow she’s promised to help this man dig up some old apple tree.

We’ll let you know what happens!

Jack

Table of Contents

Cover

Recent Titles by Sarah Rayne

Property of a Lady

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

BOOK: Property of a Lady
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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