Beauty or Brains Read online

  “Let’s carry his Lordship to his bed first.”

  Newman picked up one of the candles and held it over the Earl’s head.

  Iona saw then that there was blood running down the side of his face and she suspected that the blow had also hit his neck.

  She wished that she could do something to help, but Newman and the groom between them managed to carry the Earl along the passage that led to the Master suite.

  Left in the hall Iona wondered if she should close the door or wait for anyone from the village to reach them.

  It was then that she saw Mrs. Newman come down the stairs, her hair in curlers and wearing a long woollen dressing gown.

  “What’s happenin’? What be goin’ on?” she asked.

  “There were robbers trying to steal pictures from the Picture Gallery,” Iona replied, “and his Lordship has been wounded and Newman and the groom have taken him upstairs.”

  “Wounded! His Lordship!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never heard of such goin’s on.”

  It was then the first men arrived from the village.

  “We ’eard the trumpet call,” one of them said when he saw Iona, “and we comes to ’elp if we can.”

  “They were robbers,” Iona answered. “They were round the back of the house trying to break into one of the first floor rooms. Please go and see if they are still there and, if they are, arrest them. Then wait for the Police to come and take them away.”

  Because she spoke is such an authoritative manner, the men obeyed her immediately and disappeared to run round the house to the ladder.

  It was not long before other men arrived who had been woken up and were determined not to miss out on any of the excitement.

  She told them all what had happened.

  While she was still telling them, the men who had been round the back of the house returned.

  “The robbers got away,” one of them said. “They was travellin’ in a fast carriage drawn by two ’orses. We saw it disappearin’ down the drive when we comes ’ere and they went by at a great speed.”

  “Make quite sure they have gone,” Iona told them.

  The men went round the house only to come back and report that the ladder as still there and a lot of implements to force open the windows.

  Because she was so anxious to know how badly the Earl had been wounded, Iona left the villagers with Mrs. Newman and went up the stairs to the Master suite.

  The door was open and, when she entered, it was to find that Newman and the groom had put the Earl to bed.

  They were now rather clumsily trying to prevent the blood which was running down his cheek and his neck from soiling the white cover of the pillows.

  “Let me do that,” Iona said, “and I am only hoping the doctor will arrive soon.”

  “He lives a little way out,” Newman volunteered, “but he will have undoubtedly heard the noise you made on that there trumpet and he’ll know you needs him.”

  “If ’e don’t come ’ere soon,” the groom intervened, “I’ll ride over the fields which’ll be quicker and tell ’im what’s ’appened.”

  Iona had her hands on the Earl’s forehead.

  “It was a hard blow,” she said. “I am afraid it will be very painful for him when he wakes up. I am worried at him losing so much blood.”

  “I’ll go and fetch some towels,” Newman said, “and some bandages if I can find them.”

  He was gone before Iona was able to thank him.

  She just went on mopping up the blood that in spite of her efforts was staining the pillowcase.

  She felt it serious that his Lordship was so still and had been knocked out so completely.

  She had been so perturbed about the Earl that she had not given a thought to the man she had shot.

  He had fallen down beside the front door and had not incurred much interest from Newman or the groom.

  When she had seen him, Mrs. Newman had given a scream, but, as he did not move, she paid no more attention to him.

  It was, in fact, when the Policeman, who was over fifty and disliked going out at night after he had gone to bed, arrived that the shot robber was attended to.

  It was then found that he was dead.

  “It’s good riddance to bad rubbish,” the groom said.

  “I agrees with you,” Newman responded. “At the same time the Police will want to make a story out of his death and accuse someone of shootin’ him.”

  The groom was listening, but he did not speak.

  “What I’ll say,” Newman added, “is that I fired the pistol. It ain’t fair that Miss Lang should be blamed when she only saved his Lordship from worse injuries. She only be a girl and you know how them Police make people feel guilty even when they ain’t.”

  The groom laughed.

  “That’ll be true enough. Do you remember what a row there was when the old carpenter got shot by mistake and the Police tried to prove that it were part of a vendetta against him.”

  “I remembers that all right,” Newman said. “And this young lady’s been kind to me and me wife and I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”

  It was then when Iona joined them in the bedroom that Newman said to her,

  “You give me that pistol, Miss Lang, and you say nothin’ to the Police about havin’ it on you and firin’ it.”

  “I-I think – I killed that – robber,” Iona stammered.

  “I’m goin’ to say I killed him,” Newman answered. “It’ll be uncomfortable for you, to say the least of it, to be examined by the Police, who’ll go on for days takin’ down what you’ve said tryin’ to make it into a crime of passion or some nonsense like that.”

  Iona drew in her breath.

  She realised that Newman was absolutely right and, if the Police found out who she was, the newspapers would surely make it into big headlines.

  “Are you quite certain that you don’t mind telling a lie about it to save me?” she asked.

  Newman smiled.

  “You’ve done me and the Missus a real good turn and I’m glad now I can help you.”

  “Oh, it is wonderful of you,” Iona told him. “But I will be very frightened in case the Police think I intended to kill him. But I merely fired at him too late to prevent him from injuring the Earl.”

  “Now you leave all this to me, miss. You just say nothin’ except that you blew the cornet to tell everyone in the village that the robbers be attackin’ the house.”

  “I will and thank you, thank you for being so kind.”

  She thought as she spoke that, if the Earl died of his wounds, there might be a major investigation as to what had happened when the robbers tried to enter the house and that too would doubtless be lapped up by the newspapers.

  Iona was incredibly lucky that Newman managed to persuade the Policeman that he had shot from the stairs to protect his employer.

  He had only aimed at the robber and had no idea he was such a good shot as to hit him between the eyes.

  The Police, as it happened, were far more interested in the Earl. It was obvious from the way they inspected him almost in reverential silence.

  The Police were told how the Earl had gone down the staircase to prevent the robbers from entering the house only to be hit so violently with a hard weapon that he could remember nothing when he could see and talk again.

  The Police therefore busied themselves with asking questions of Newman, who was well able to hold his own.

  When the doctor arrived, he was horrified at seeing what one blow had done to the Earl.

  “I cannot send you a nurse,” he told Iona, “simply because I don’t have one. And, if I had one, it is doubtful if I could spare her for more than an hour or so a day.”

  He smiled as he added,

  “I am sure that you, Miss Lang, and Mrs. Newman will manage and I am also sure that you could get someone from the village to give you a hand.”

  “Yes, of course,” Iona agreed.

  The doctor said someone must fetch an oin
tment from his surgery that was important to help the Earl’s skin to heal, as well as the pills and medicines he was to take as soon as he was conscious.

  Iona thought that she was so lucky not to be cross-examined by the Police.

  ‘I will reward Newman for this,’ she thought to herself, ‘and no one deserves it more.’

  When she and Newman had carried out the doctor’s instructions, it was nearly morning.

  It was then for the first time she thought how clever it had been of the Earl’s uncle to introduce the cornet call that had brought so many people to their rescue.

  If he had not installed it, it would have been quite easy for the robbers to steal his valuable pictures.

  But intimidated by the noise and realising that they would be arrested, they had rushed off even before anyone arrived from the village.

  The only time that they had been seen was when the first men to reach the drive had to stand on one side to let them pass.

  “If we’d known we’d have stopped ’em,” more than one man said, “but it’s too late now.”

  Iona thought that they were lucky to have got away.

  ‘I must put the cornet back into its place,’ she told herself after she had eaten a little breakfast.

  It was not cooked by her because she was busy with the Earl but by Mrs. Newman, who could only do ordinary eggs and bacon which, however, Iona was delighted to eat after a long night of worry and anxiety.

  ‘I will put back the cornet now,’ she said to herself, ‘and make sure that I have not broken the addition that makes it so noisy at the top.’

  She went into the Picture Gallery and thought how fortunate it was that the robbers had not been able to take away any of the magnificent paintings.

  ‘How lucky the Earl is,’ she reflected.

  Then she remembered that they were not his to sell and perhaps he would never be able to afford to have a son who would inherit them.

  She went over to the mantelpiece and put the cornet back where it was meant to go.

  Then she thought perhaps it would be a good idea to look up, now it was daylight, and see if the instrument or whatever it was at the top of the chimney was still there.

  She recalled that strange objects had fallen on her during the night when she had blown on the cornet and she was worried that, if they were robbed again, its protection might not be so effective.

  She climbed round the old chimney.

  There was just a faint light emanating from the top, but she saw that there was something on the floor and bent down to pick it up.

  Then, as she looked at it in sheer astonishment, she realised that she was holding a golden guinea in her hand.

  It seemed for the moment incredible.

  She thought that it might well have been dropped in the past by someone like herself who had needed to blow the cornet to attract the attention of the village.

  As she looked round, she saw several dark objects that she had thought were dirt or stones only to find when she rubbed them that they too were golden guineas.

  It was then looking round the chimney and feeling with her hands, she realised that a number of the bricks had been removed.

  Each hole was filled with coins.

  When her fingers went back a little further, there was the crackle of banknotes.

  For a moment she could hardly believe it was true.

  Then, almost as if her whole being was singing, she told herself that she had now solved the Earl’s problem and found his fortune.

  “I have found it! I have found it!” she cried aloud. “And thank you God for answering my prayers.”

  At first she felt that she must run down the stairs and tell Newman what she had discovered.

  Then she knew it was not her fortune but the Earl’s.

  It was for him to be the first one to know where it was hidden all these years.

  He had tried so hard and been so disappointed time after time that it was wonderful now to know that he was the rich man he had always wanted to be.

  The house could now be restored to all its glory.

  There was also, Iona thought, as she went back into the Gallery, a fear that Newman might be tempted to keep some of the money for himself.

  And Mrs. Newman would find it almost impossible not to relate the exciting story to Mrs. Barley and then it would be all over the village.

  It did not require a brilliant brain to know that in which case they could be attacked by so many robbers that they would be unable to defend themselves.

  And then the great fortune that the Earl had been searching for could disappear for ever.

  ‘I must keep it a secret as it has been for so long,’ Iona decided.

  She moved out of the fireplace and made quite sure that it was impossible to see anything unusual if anyone looked at the mantelpiece from inside the Picture Gallery.

  All the same it made her run to the Earl’s room just in case he was well enough for her to whisper to him what she had found.

  But he was still unconscious and Newman said,

  “Doctor says he has to find his way back by himself and there’s nothin’ we can do at the moment to help him. But I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

  “You are not saying that he will not recover?” Iona asked anxiously.

  “I thinks he will, miss, but he should be comin’ round by this time.”

  He walked away before Iona could say anymore.

  *

  But, as the day passed, she spent all her time in his Lordship’s bedroom.

  She kept praying that he would recover and be back to his old self.

  He had fought so hard for the fortune that he knew existed and refused to give up his search.

  How could he die when it was within his grasp?

  When finally late in the evening, the Earl opened his eyes both Iona and Newman hurried to his side.

  ‘He is alive! He is not going to die,’ was Iona’s first thought.

  She bathed his forehead as the doctor had told her to do and made him swallow a liquid to give him strength.

  Newman said that he would stay with him all night.

  “We will take it in turns,” Iona suggested. “I know exactly what the doctor has told you to do and you must be on your guard tomorrow in case people come to see him and upset him in any way.”

  “You don’t think it will be too much for you?” Newman asked.

  Iona smiled.

  “No, I will be all right. And there is a good dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  “You’re an angel, that’s just what you be, miss. If you hadn’t come here I really don’t know what would have become of me and the Missus. We be so grateful as we always will be for the rest of our lives.”

  “What we have to do now is to put the Earl back on his feet,” Iona said. “So I will stay until one o’clock and then if you take over until breakfast time, we will decide tomorrow how we can arrange the rota better.”

  “To hear you is to obey, miss, and you’ve been the kindest person I’ve ever met and that be the truth.”

  He went out of the room as he spoke and Iona sat down by the bedside.

  “Get well, you must get well,” she said to the Earl firmly.

  She was not certain if he could hear her, but she felt that if she talked to him she would make him realise how important it was for him to come back to reality.

  She carefully rubbed his forehead and then, as the hours passed by, talked to him and wondered if in some magical way he would hear her what she was saying.

  She remembered her father telling her once that, if a man had a stroke or was apparently unconscious, he was often aware when people talked to him, especially those he loved, about what was happening even though he could not understand exactly what was being said.

  She did not, however, tell him about his fortune.

  She talked to him about the land, the house and said how wonderful it would look if one day they could clean the pictures and
restore everything to its original beauty.

  “If you are proud of it now,” she told him, “you would be very very proud if it was as it used to be when you were a child.”

  She was very sleepy by the time Newman came at one o’clock in the morning to relieve her.

  “I’ve had five hours sleep,” he said, “and that’s enough for any man as the doctor’ll tell you. Now go to bed, miss, and don’t worry about his Lordship till the sun is high in the sky tomorrow mornin’.”

  “I will do exactly as you tell me,” Iona said, “and, if you now take my advice, you will sit in that comfortable armchair and put your feet up on the other.”

  Newman chuckled.

  “That’s just what I’ll do.”

  Iona took a last look at the Earl and then walked along the passage to her own room.

  But, when she climbed into bed and was praying once again that he would soon get well, she knew that in a strange way she had never felt happier than she did at this moment.

  She was with people who were so kind to her and people who wanted to help the Earl as she did.

  That was all that mattered.

  Everything else was of little consequence, even the fact that her family would be wondering how they could find the home of her old Governess.

  John would now be, for the moment, keeping up the pretence that he was only postponing their wedding.

  ‘To be honest I am happier here than I have ever been anywhere else,’ she thought, ‘and I don’t suppose I shall ever again have such an unusual adventure as this.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Iona was preparing a special dish for luncheon and was now wondering if she could persuade the Earl to eat anything when Newman hurried into the kitchen.

  “I’ve just had a man come here from the Police,” he said. “They’re postponin’ all enquiries until Monday.”

  Iona looked at him in surprise.

  “Until Monday!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes. After all it’s Saturday today and they think that as the robber was dead he’ll do nobody no harm in the mortuary. Then I expect that they’ll get an Inspector down from London to make the necessary enquiries.”

  Iona gave a gasp.

  “Oh, Newman, then you don’t mind saying that you shot him?”