The Officer and the Lady. Dorothy Elbury

sir,’ the man replied carefully and, ushering his visitor into his neat little parlour, he motioned him to take a seat.

      ‘How the devil did this Wentworth manage to get such an upper hand here?’ demanded Beresford, as soon as Chadwick had sat down. ‘And, more to the point, what on earth possessed my father to appoint him over you?’

      ‘As a matter of fact, he did no such thing!’ replied Chadwick, with a sigh. ‘Wentworth was originally taken on as head gamekeeper, shortly before my dear wife was struck down with an inflammation of the lung and, since Sir Matthew was adamant that I should spend the greater part of my working day with her, he was obliged to hand over a good many of my outside duties to Wentworth. Sadly, my wife did not recover from her illness and…’ He paused momentarily and passed his hand across his eyes. ‘For several weeks I was somewhat—how shall I put it—distracted.’

      Although Beresford gave a sympathetic nod at Chadwick’s attempt to conceal his natural distress, his mind was reeling in disbelief at hearing of this new and totally unexpected facet of his father’s complex personality.

      ‘I had hardly begun to take up the reins again,’ the man went on, ‘when I was notified of my son’s battle injury and impending arrival. This, of course, necessitated me travelling down to Harwich to collect him. By the time we returned, Sir Matthew had suffered his heart attack and Wentworth was already beginning to make his presence felt and, although I expressed my concern to Miss Priestley, I confess that I was too preoccupied with my son’s welfare to do anything about it.’

      ‘Which was perfectly understandable, in the circumstances,’ Beresford assured him. ‘What can you tell me about my father’s death? He had a heart attack, you say?’

      Chadwick nodded. ‘For some time his doctor had suspected that Sir Matthew suffered from an abnormal pressure of the blood and had been bleeding him regularly during the weeks preceding his death. I understand that he had just returned from his usual morning ride when it occurred. Apparently, Wentworth found him lying in the yard next to his mount but, by the time he had raised the alarm, your poor father had expired!’

      The discovery that Chadwick actually seemed to mourn his father’s death stirred Beresford’s curiosity. ‘Do I take it that you were quite happy to be in my father’s employ?’ he asked.

      ‘After almost twenty years it would be surprising if Sir Matthew and I had not managed to reach some sort of an understanding,’ replied Chadwick cautiously. ‘And, if I may say so, I am surprised that you should consider it necessary to ask such a question! Those of us who chose to remain in his service for so many years would soon have sought alternative employment had he not been a just employer, I can assure you!’

      ‘I rather seemed to get the impression that certain members of his family were somewhat less than enamoured of him,’ returned Beresford drily.

      Chadwick eyed him thoughtfully. ‘There is some truth in what you say, Mr Beresford,’ he admitted. ‘Sir Matthew had a very short temper and he was not one to suffer fools gladly. Some might say that he was a hard taskmaster but, over the years, I discovered that it was simply a downright refusal to accept slipshod work or any form of incompetence or ineptitude. However, so long as one performed one’s job well, one would eventually earn his respect—Miss Priestley will vouch for that!’

      Beresford was silent. Having, for so many years, harboured such strong feelings of anger and resentment towards his father, he now found himself in something of a quandary as to understanding the real nature of the man and, as he was forced to remind himself, with very little likelihood of discovering the truth behind the enigma.

      With an effort he drew his attention back to the waiting Chadwick.

      ‘Would I be correct in thinking that you would be willing to be reinstated to your former position?’ he asked him.

      ‘Without question, Mr Beresford,’ the man was happy to assure him. ‘Although I fear that we shall need to address the matter of staff shortage with some urgency if we are to return the estate to any semblance of its former prosperity.’

      Beresford nodded. ‘I agree, and it is my intention to remedy that problem as quickly as possible. I shall be paying a visit to Ashby market first thing tomorrow morning with the express purpose of hiring more men.’

      He stood up and was preparing to take his leave when a sudden thought occurred to him. ‘I wonder if your son would be interested in becoming your deputy?’ he asked. ‘Since he tells me that riding is not a problem for him, I should have thought that he could well prove to be a most valuable assistant to you.’

      ‘How very good of you to consider such an idea, sir!’ cried Chadwick, his lined face wreathed in a delighted smile. ‘The boy has been growing rather dispirited of late. He has a sharp mind and these months of enforced inactivity have not sat at all easily with him. I am sure that he will be thrilled at this opportunity to demonstrate his worth. He will not let you down, I promise you!’

      ‘Well, do talk it over with him first!’ laughed Beresford and, before making for the door, he handed Chadwick the bunch of keys he had confiscated from Wentworth. ‘Meanwhile, I suppose I had better go and give our contemptible friend his marching orders!’

      When he got back to the stable yard, however, there was still no sign of Wentworth and, after consulting his pocket watch and registering the growing lateness of the hour, Beresford decided to postpone the unpleasant interview until the following morning and went, instead, to his chamber to change for dinner.