Shadow of the Past by Judith Cutler

her hands. ‘And now I will have to demand my purse back from Furnival,’ she said ruefully. ‘Or humbly ask him to supply me with guineas.’
    ‘It would be good to return to friendly terms with such a loyal servant,’ I began.
    ‘Not so friendly that you tell him the reason why,’ Hansard put in. ‘No, Tobias. No, your Ladyship. All this is too hasty. Tobias cannot dash off anywhere without knowing whither he is dashing. We must put local enquiries in train before he makes a grand assault on the capital. There is, after all, another enquiry to make – what has happened to the young woman who found the corpse? Where is Miss Southey, and why did she disappear so swiftly?’
    The person who should be able to answer that was of course, Sir Marcus, deny it as he might. By chance, weencountered him with his wife on the main staircase. However, before we could raise the matter, he pressed on us an invitation for dinner, overriding whatever Edmund was trying to say.
    ‘Nay, I insist, gentlemen – my wife and I will not take no for an answer, will we, my dear?’
    ‘But—’ I objected weakly. How could we cross-question a man in a social situation? In any case, I could scarce forbear to glance at my watch – surely it was almost five o’clock already.
    ‘You will recall we now keep town hours, gentlemen.’ His bow was an uneasy mixture of the arrogant and the ingratiating. ‘No, I will accept no excuses. Lady Chase herself has promised to honour us with her company at seven. Dr Hansard, what do you say?’
    Whether or not Edmund felt similar inhibitions, he responded with a civil bow. ‘My wife and I would be pleased to accept your invitation,’ he said clearly, with what I saw as a challenge in his eye. Lady Chase treated Mrs Hansard as an intimate friend, but the presence of a mere doctor’s wife might not be as welcome to this upstart.
    ‘Excellent,’ Sir Marcus declared, not missing a beat. ‘A new batch of music arrived this very morning, Mr Campion. I trust you will not disappoint my sister?’
    I already had done that, of course, with my chosen mode of life, but let that pass. In any case, Lady Chase’s words about Lady Dorothea still ringing in my ears, I felt positively queasy. Nonetheless, forbidding myself even a glance at Dr Hansard, I declared I should be charmed indeed. ‘Will Lady Bramhall be pleased to play on her harp?’ I pursued.
    A curtsy and a blush were my reward. Indeed, despite thelength of our acquaintance, she was still more of a simpering miss than a matron in her behaviour. No wonder her daughters were so lacking in savoir-faire with such a model before them. And with such a domineering father, no wonder they were bullies. I could always treat them as if they were subjects of scientific inquiry. Perhaps if I did so, I would after all look forward to our conversations this evening.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    I returned to the rectory to change for dinner, thanking goodness, for once, that the Bramhalls had persuaded Lady Chase to adopt London hours for dining. As I hurried past the churchyard, I saw Simon Clark still at work tidying some graves, although it was nearly dark. He deserved my courtesy as much as the Bramhalls did, so I stopped to greet him.
    Simon seemed pleased to be interrupted. He leant on his scythe, contemplating the mound he’d just neatened, though the grass hardly grew at this time of year.
    I complimented him on his endeavours. ‘You have another grave to prepare now, of course, Simon. That poor lost soul. Lady Chase has undertaken to bear his funeral expenses.’
    ‘That man Dr Hansard cut open?’
    How on earth did he know that?
    He spat. ‘It’s not right, Parson, that it isn’t, opening a man’s insides. With Mrs Hansard under the same roof, too.’
    Little did he know how closely I shared his feelings, but I said bracingly, ‘Dr Hansard and Dr Toone merely wish tolearn more about the poor man’s death, and they believe that is the best way.’
    He