A Memorable Memorial Thursday 9 pm

[Blackguard]

Dorset and Annie

"It is men that want sex all the time," Sedley corrected.  "At least when we are young.  And the ladies not only tolerate it, they encourage it," he added with a short laugh. "Truth be told, I think the ladies enjoy it more.  Men aspire to quantity while ladies to quality perhaps."

Anne wanted to go upstairs, ostensibly to look for clues. Dorset replied "splendid, and what would a clue look like?" he was tormenting her as they moved to the stairs, ready to ascend.  He was seeking her to admit that this was just a farce to separate themselves.

[Francis Kirke]

Francis with...Sedley?

 

Francis was, indeed, watching the scene unfold. 

 

He was somewhat in disbelief that an investigation into that disgusting excuse for a (dead) man in the middle of a Merry Gang gathering in said man's memory. And it was not a drunken investigation that was more farce. Had he not started in on drinking and happened in on an investigation outside of an expected party, he might have enjoyed it.

 

Whilst that was going on, what he to amuse himself was apparently Rochester making everything about sex, a suggestion that limericks would enliven the party, and Anne Elizabeth wanting some sex (from his cousin). Francis was not quite sure he was in the right place.

 

He looked between the trio and Sedley, then duo and Sedley, as if to ask "is this really happening."

 

Bringing his flask up to his lips again he rolled his eyes as the countess and the earl left up the stairs. 

 

"Shall we ever get Dorset back, I wonder, or shall this now be a duo?" Francis joked. He then added, "And Merriweather continues to ruin get-togethers even in death." His eyes cast about for the return of Rochester from the piss pot.

[Douglas FitzJames]

Despite their differences Chatham was proving a good partner to question the staff with, but If Douglas had known the label that Charles had given him he would have laughed, bowed and owned it. So many thought of him, and he did little to disabuse them of the notion. Let them underestimate him.

Just as Arthur seemed to have underestimated them now. Or the person who had schooled him to his answer had. The way he looked down and practically recited his recounting made Douglas suspect that, of the two unmatched stories, his was the false one. Best not to jump to conclusions however. He noted out of the corner of his eye that Gregory's poker face was less practiced; he looked genuinely surprised. He, Douglas recalled, had arrived at the house after the constable and various others, including himself and Sedley. Apparently arrived from London with something his master had sent him for. Douglas wondered what he made of all this, and how much he knew. 

"An' do ye unlock the hoose in the mornin's as well whilk Gregory's awa'?" Douglas asked Arthur evenly. If so then Arthur either had the key, or had access to it. We're getting close. He has to have been part of it.

There was something else that was nagging at the back of Douglas's mind. Something in the memory from last Saturday. He mentally replayed the events. There was the groom and the housekeeper... He were there with his eyes near popped out, the housekeeper had said. I cut him down after Annie cried out fer me, the groom had added. Different story, different name. 

Douglas looked closely at Arthur, trying to compare him to the man in his memory's eye. Was this a different man? And this housekeeper, Martha...

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth going upstairs with Dorset

 

“And because men want sex all the time, they assume women do too.” Though her attention remained on Sedley, Anne-Elisabeth smiled in Dorset’s direction. “I have to agree, though, that men prefer quantity and women are more interested in quality.” She hoped that her lover understood that she was paying him a compliment. Then again, with his ego, what else would he think?

 

She didn’t miss Lord Kingston’s befuddled look. The dark-haired Countess silently agreed with him. This was not the kind of party that one associated with the Merry Gang. At least upstairs, she and Dorset could have some real fun.

 

As they strolled toward the staircase, he asked what a clue looked like. Anne-Elisabeth’s eyes widened in faux innocence. “Why, I have no clue!  But I’m sure we will enjoy searching for them.”

 

Passing Rochester at the piss pot, she called out: “I hope everything comes out all right.”

 

Upstairs, she took Dorset’s hand, gazing at the doors on each side of the corridors. “So where shall we look first?” she asked with a sultry smile. He probably knew Merriweather’s house much better than she did (which was not at all).

[Blackguard]

Francis/Anne

James had passed out.  The Irishman had likely been well-oiled before he arrived, and likely had been without much sleep.  He was face-down on the table.  Sedley was sitting with Francis while Rochester was finishing his business.

Rochester laughed at Kingston's assessment.  "What, an investigation by a one-eyed man and a one track Scotsman into the death of a one man danger to any innocent is a farce?" he asked insincerely.  "They may take a week to discover the obvious."  The noise of his urination in the pot came to an end at last.  Anne's quip about all coming out alright was a witty remark, so Johnny nodded his head.  "It is a pain, but so are your quips."

As Dorset ascended the stairs with Anne, Sedley called out "then I hope you find some quality clues upstairs.  I would start with Merriweather's bed.  It has seen such scandal and depravity surely, that there may be something under his pillow or mattress."  He was teasing mostly.

Dorset turned towards Anne.  "Any clue is likely in his bedroom, but I am not sure I want anywhere near his bed," he whispered.  "Or, we can check the guest bed in the next room.  It was likely rarely used."  It was her choice.

 

[Charles Audley]

The Interrogation

Gregory was not in on it (whatever 'it' was exactly, which still puzzled him — who would need to cover up the murder of Alexander bloody Merriweather? The man had been so eminently murderable that his violent death would have occasioned neither interest nor comment), Charles decided.

Well, either that, or he is as aghast at the lack of artifice on display as I am...

"And there was nothing at all out of the ordinary, even slightly, when you were locking up the night before? All was as usual? Nothing stands out, even in hindsight? We have to ask, you understand," Charles said, affecting a bored tone and allowing a little slur to edge into his words. He had not been at the house when the body was found, and was not privy to the direction of Dundarg's thoughts, but he was setting up a little trap of his own. He took a gulp of his brandy, to add verisimilitude, though it rankled him to swill good brandy like that.

"Now, let me just make sure I have this straight," he said. "You came in, early in the morning, and found Merriweather hanging there. You cut him down, unbound his wrists, and called for the housekeeper. Together, you found the note and then she went for the constable. You stayed with the body while she was gone, I assume? How long, would you say, was it before the constable arrived?"

It was nearly time, Charles thought, to pull the rug from under the man, but there was no harm in letting him dig himself a bigger pit to fall into first.

Besides, it's Dundarg's hunt. Let him do the honours.

[Blackguard]

Arthur seemed to be the same man that Douglas had seen that fateful morning, though with his head down, the Scot could not be absolutely sure.  Gregory seemed itching to say something, but continued to allow the nobles to speak exclusively.  "Aye, I lock up at night and unlock in the morn," the groom replied.

"I cut him down," he began as an answer to Charles, assuming the summary the Earl offered "but his wrists weren't tied.  I didn't see nothing strange other than our master dead."  He was a man of few words it seemed. 

[Douglas FitzJames]

It was the manner. The almost sullen way that the man spoke. Head down, voice low and words more of a recitation than free speech. He knows he's about to get into trouble, Douglas realised. It wasn't an accident that the man's story didn't match; he was saying what he'd been told to. Someone was using him as a scapegoat.

"Thank ye laddie." Douglas said gently as Arthur answered Chatham's questions. He felt just a bit sorry for the man. "Noo I jus' hae ane more question; wha put ye up tae this?"* He asked, hoping that, in shock, the man might make a mistake. 

As he spoke Douglas's voice hardened. "Yer story doesnae match Martha's, nor whit ye both telt me that fatefu' mornin'. Abody haes telt ye tae tak the blame. I hae nae int'rest in persecutin' an innocent man, an' e'en an accomplice kin find me fergivin' if he helps find the mastermind."** He pointed out.

"Let me tell ye whit happened. Ye lockit the hoose up, sae ye haed the key. Abody arrives - likely more thain ane. Ye let thaim in, they find yer master drunk, force him tae write that note, tie his hands an' likely his mooth, an' manhandle him doonstairs. Ye ken Martha wilnae hear acause she'd sleepin' the sleep o' laudanum. These folks thain hang yer master frae his ain beam till he's chokit, untie his hands an' mooth, an' leave via the door which ye lock again. Thain Martha - er Annie as ye cawd her on Saturday - cams doonstairs tae find yer master's body."*** He glanced across at Chatham to see whether the other man agreed with his assessment, and then at Gregory. Had Merriweather's man been in on it too?

The big Scotsman leaned forward, looming in the light of the candles. "Abody haes gi'en ye reason tae change yer story, saes ye weel be caught. I want tae ken wha."+ Arthur was a small fish, someone caught in the machinations of another. Douglas wanted to catch the bigger fish. 

Subtitles
* "Thank you man. Now I just have one more question; who put you up to this?"
** "Your story doesn't match Martha's, nor what you both told me that fateful morning. Somebody has told you to take the blame. I have no interest in persecuting and innocent man, and even an accomplice can find me forgiving if he helps find the mastermind."
*** "Let me tell you what happened. You locked the house up, so you had the key. Somebody arrives - likely more than one. You let them in, they find your master drunk, force him to write that note, tie his hands and likely his mouth, and manhandle him downstairs. You know Martha won't dear because she's sleeping the sleep of laudanum. These people then hang your master from his own beam until he's choked, untie his hands and mouth, and leave via the door which you lock again. Then Martha - or Annie as you called her on Saturday - comes downstairs to find your master's body."
+ "Somebody has given you reason to change your story, so you will be caught. I want to know who."

[Charles Audley]

The Interrogation

"My mistake, my mistake," Charles said. He had been hoping Arthur would not deny that Merriweather's hands had been bound while he was hanged but it hardly mattered. The groom had dug a deep enough pit for himself as it was.

And Dundarg had decided it was time to push him into it. Charles watched both Arthur and Gregory as the Scot spoke, and then chimed in himself as Dundarg concluded, all traces of affected boredom and slurred words gone.

"Do you know what petty treason is, Arthur?" he asked gently. "It is a crime against the order of things... a servant killing his master, for instance. And though we call it petty, the penalty is the same as for the greater. You will suffer that penalty, Arthur, as things stand, because, now denied the simple, elegant explanation of suicide, the constable will fall back on the next most simple solution, which is that you killed Merriweather. It is an awful death, Arthur, and one I do not think that you have earned."

He leaned forward, voice becoming more urgent, a man pleading with another to take his hand and be saved from the abyss.

"But Dundarg and I can help you, Arthur! We can spare you that, and the vengeance of whoever it was killed Merriweather! All you have to do is tell us the truth. Just that. So please, Arthur, tell us — what really happened?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth and Dorset 'looking for clues' upstairs

 

Rochester acknowledged her witty comment with a nod. Though a retort formed on her lips when he claimed her remarks pained him, Anne-Elisabeth decided not to voice it. Sometimes it was better to quit while you were ahead.

 

She winked cheekily at Sedley as she and Dorset ascended the stairs. He was not the only one who didn’t want to investigate Merriweather’s bed. Did he feel her shiver at the very thought? If not, her look of disgust would clearly convey her feelings. “Yes, let’s investigate the guest room,” she agreed, kissing him lightly and playfully. “We should be able to find some very exciting clues in there.”

 

Edited September 22 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

The Interrogation

Arthur's mood did not change as, first, Douglas and then Charles accused him of complicity. His head was bowed and he was mostly silent.

"I didn't mention Martha cuz she should be left alone," he muttered quietly.  It seemed as if he was protecting her.  "Annie is dead," he noted mournfully.  It seemed as though he misspoke.  He said nothing as Douglas spun his theory of Arthur letting in a pair of murderers.

It was then Chatham's turn.  He used a tactic well-designed to get accomplices to betray the mastermind.  There was a long pause and a sigh.  "He murdered Annie," the man muttered as if having little will to betray anyone or attempt to save himself.  He seemed resigned that people like himself were in impossible situations.  He added nothing.

It was now Gregory's turn to speak, sensing the moment was right.  "Annie was the cook.  She was a joy to everyone, including her parents that agreed with her joining the household.  She was a pretty thing, well-liked by all and quite the cook," Gregory added carefully.  He paused and looked at Arthur to see if there was a reaction.

She died one night when I was sent on an errand by my master.  Martha thought she heard Annie screaming for help, but she later stated that it could have been a bad dream," he sought to clarify.  "Annie was found at the bottom of the stairs, battered, her face swollen and her neck broken.  Master said it was an accident.  She had fallen down the stairs in the dark, and it must have been quite the tumble" he relayed quietly, knowing he was probably revealing more than he should about the private affairs of the household. 

"Master Merriweather seemed quite sad at her loss and ordered me to his London home to fetch a gift for her parents ... something to ease their pain when they learned of her death, and his own pain of course."  Gregory knew that the moment of truth was likely dawning on the two lords, and they could judge ill or not.  "It may have been the ... sadness that caused the master to hang himself, knowing the grief of himself, the household, and the tears yet shed by Annie's good family."   

[Blackguard]

Dorset and AE

There was a certain discomfort to wandering the upstairs of Merriweather's house.  Dorset was not randy in such a setting.  He was more interested in what paintings and collectibles that the man collected.  He received the kiss and gave Anne a hug as they walked into the guest room.

The paintings on the walls were a series of portraits of beautiful young women and men.  There was a charcoal of an ruined rural church with overgrown vegetation.   "An eye for beauty," Dorset commented, though his thoughts were more concerning.  He decided not to share them with Anne.

[Douglas FitzJames]

The Interrogation

Their accusations of Arthur being an accomplice to the murder did not have the effect on the man that Douglas had hoped. He hardly seemed moved at all; only miserable with fear. Or was it fear? He looked almost tired, and not in the manner of one after a long day of hard work, but rather of one with nothing left to hope for. Resignation. 

The Arthur muttered one little phrase. He murdered Annie. The name he'd mistakenly used for Martha - Douglas could believe it was due to the chaos and confusion - the first time they'd met, when his master was still laid out on the dining table. Then Gregory spoke up, revealing the sordid details of what had occurred. Arthur seemed unmoved, but Douglas wasn't and his shock showed on his face. He read the implication plainly, and it was simply unthinkable. There was an unspoken covenant between a lord and his tennants, a master and his staff. The man in power protected his people, and they in turn served him and protected his reputation. And you did not, ever, attack those who served you. He glanced at Chatham; the man was better bred than Dundarg; surely he would be equally shocked. 

The mental pennies were starting to drop. Once Douglas recovered from the shock he started to put things together. "Yer master sayed Annie's deeth was an accident, a faw', but whit kind o' faw leaves a swollen face?" He asked rhetotically. "Nane; but chokin' weel, er hangin'." He observed. "An' Merriweather was a man whit liked tae be choked, an' I'm guessin' liked tae choke others."* He recalled that from the conversations on the morning of the man's death. So there was this pretty young cook in the household and Merriweather had accosted her, perhaps tried to rape her - or perhaps she found something he didn't want her to find? The man clearly had secrets. Either way he'd choked her, probably beaten her, and she'd died which he possibly hadn't intended, and so he'd thrown her down the stairs to make it look like an accident. 

Douglas didn't suppose any further on the details out loud however, because of the pain he was certain it would put Arthur through. It wasn't fear that made the man dull, it was misery. "Annie was yer dochter, wasnae she Arthur? Yers an' Martha's?"** He asked, in far gentler tones than he'd been using before. Everything was starting to make a sick sense, and Douglas had the feeling that there was no greater crime here than possibly a father's revenge for the death of his daughter. 

Subtitles
* "Your master said Annie's death was an accident, a fall, but what kind of fall leaves a swollen face? None; but choking will, or hanging. And Merriweather was a man who liked to be choked, and I'm guessing liked to choke others."
** "Anne was your daughter, wasn't she Arthur? Yours and Martha's?"

Edited September 23 by Douglas FitzJames

[Charles Audley]

The Interrogation

It was darkly ironic, Charles reflected, that he had raised the prospect of petty treason to Arthur when, considered from the point of view of natural justice rather than the law, the sin for which Merriweather had died was no less a crime against the natural order of things. One's servants were sacrosanct, the only lesson of his father's that Charles had ever paid the slightest attention to. For Merriweather to have killed and almost certainly raped or tried to rape one of his... Charles felt his sword hand flex, and reminded himself that desecration of a corpse was beneath his dignity.

I will, however, piss on his grave, if the queue is not too long.

He was disgusted, yes, and angry, but, upon reflection, not shocked. The thing about breaking one taboo or societal expectation was that it irrevocably weakened all the others, a realisation that made monsters of men. This, or something like this, had been inevitable from the moment that Alexander Merriweather had first realised that he could, if he was moderately careful in selecting his victims, get away with rape.

Charles took a breath and forced himself to cool dispassion, carefully thinking through the logic of this new story. It hung together, he decided — it fit all the known facts, and explained why the murder had been made to look a suicide. Still, he had best apply due diligence.

"Was there a record made of Annie's death?" he asked Gregory quietly as Dundarg spoke to Arthur. "And, if you do not mind my asking, what was the... 'gift' you were sent for?"

He waited for the answer and turned to Dundarg.

"Assuming nothing else turns up, I think we can honestly say that Merriweather killed himself," he murmured.

And Charles did consider that the truth. It might not have been suicide, but Merriweather's actions had led directly and inevitably to his own death as surely as if he had hanged himself.

[Blackguard]

When one thought of the Merry Court, one could be excused for thinking it full of gaiety, laughter, and persons of noble purpose.  Politicians knew it to be a snake pit of intrigue and opportunism, while court jades knew that, at the edge of the gilded rooms illuminated by a thousand candles lay a border of shadows in which creatures of avarice, cruelty, and criminality skulked.  Sadly, the sins so well known at a libertine court were not the boundary of the possible.  

A gloom descended on the room as the two nobles uncovered the mantle of menace that had permeated the household.  Gregory worried that he had revealed too much at the expense of a dead master, but to protect a fellow household servant.

Douglas concluded that Arthur was the father, but this was not so.  The big man continued to hang his head low.  "No," Gregory interjected, "Annie was from the same village as Arthur.  He knew her father and promised to look after her."

Chatham seemed to relax a bit and asked two questions.  It was Gregory that answered, Arthur being too despondent.  "Master informed the coroner. or so he said, but he instructed Arthur to bury her in the woods, claiming it was done to protect her parents.  The household thought that her remains should return to her folks for a Christian burial.  Her poor broken body even now rests in a box in the stable.  Despite Master's wishes, we will take her ... home."  The steady manservant got a lump in his throat suddenly.  He needed to pause before answering the second question, his eyes, to his surprise, glistened with emotion.  "A sapphire necklace fitted in Tyrol silver.  Annie's eyes were blue."  It was clear that the parents had yet to learn what had befallen their child.

[Douglas FitzJames]

The Interrogation

Chatham turned to him and murmured that he felt, after all they had learned, they could say Merriweather had killed himself. He was clearly of the same mind as Douglas himself. "Aye, suicide by broken covenant."* Douglas murmured in return. The term Fuck Around and Find Out would not become popular for several hundred years, which was a terrible shame because Merriweather had fucked around, and he'd found out. That Arthur had most likely throttled Merriweather for killing Annie was clear, and then he'd tried to make it look like Merriweather had committed suicide. He'd had the sense to do it whilst Gregory was away, but it looked as though the truth had come out at some point. Regardless from what Douglas could see, it was simply a matter of Merriweather's crossing a line, and his habits catching up with him. 

It was still an unthinkable crime, and the big man was struggling to fathom how one could even consider such. He pinched the bridge of his nose and uttered something unprintable in Gaelic, paused thoughtfully, then added a heart-felt 'fook' for punctuation. 

What was clear was that punishment had been served where it had been deserved. Punishing Arthur would achieve absolutely nothing. Douglas straightened up and favoured after glancing at the two staff, turned to Chatham. "Ye weel recaw that, as a Captain o' His Majesty's Life Guard, my concern was fer the possibility a killer was loose in Windsor wha cuid threaten the Royal Family er other courtiers." He said in clear, formal tones. "I wuid value yer thochts, Laird Chatham, but I cannae see ony evidence o' such a risk here."** He said, asking Charles to act as his witness to the investigation. Arthur was no risk to anyone now. 

"As such, 'tis a matter fer the constabulary, nae the Life Guard, an' Constable Higgins haes alrairdy assessed the matter. I kin see nae point in makin' him re-write his report."*** He was clearly expecting Chatham to agree with him, playing the role of his witness. Let history state that Merriweather had committed suicide, and the whole sordid matter could resolve in whatever broken manner it could. 

Then Douglas turned back to the two men. "Thank ye Arthur, gie hae yer rest." He suggested gently. Hopefully the man would be able to sleep. The Scot's attention fixed on Gregory. "Do ye need ony help, tae git Anne hame?"+ He asked in gentler tones than he'd used so far that night.

Subtitles
* "Yes, suicide by broken covenant."
** "You will recall, as a Captain of His Majesty's Life Guard, my concern was for the possibility a killer was loose in Windsor, who could threaten the Royal Family or other courtiers. I would value your thoughts, Lord Chatham, but I can't see any evidence of such a risk here."
*** "As such, it's a matter for the constabulary, not the Life Guard, and Constable Higgins has already assessed the matter. I can see no point in making him re-write his report."
+ "Thank you Arthur, go have your rest. Do you need any help, to get Annie home?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth and Dorset

 

If Anne-Elisabeth had not been tipsy and knew more about Merriweather’s vile behavior, she might not have been amorous at all. She only remembered meeting him once and this was the first time she had been at his house. It wasn’t difficult to sense Dorset’s uneasiness, though he was still affectionate toward her.

 

What she saw in the guest room had the same effect as a splash of cold water in her face. She sobered up immediately. The portraits were beautiful but they were also disturbing in a way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She imagined this room had been used more for sinister purposes than as accommodations for guests. Instinctively, she moved closer to Dorset as a chill ran down her spine.

 

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she whispered. "Perhaps we should go back downstairs."  They might have to endure a bit of teasing, but it was better than being creeped out.

[Blackguard]

Cambray and Dorset

"I agree," Charles replied.  "Rochester pouts if we do not give him sufficient attention."

So, back down the stairs they went. "What, done already?" Sedley asked as Rochester had joined Sedley and Kingston at the table.  "Yes, we had four goes at each other and thought to take a breather," Dorset jested.

"You lasted longer than you normally do," Rochester insulted.

"Well, I just pictured you in my mind Jonnie, as always, to make me lose interest," Dorset replied as he led Anne back with the others.  His eyes looked in the direction of Douglas and Chatham, wondering when they might rejoin.

[Charles Audley]

The Interrogation

"I concur, and if called upon will so testify in person or in writing," Charles said, matching Dundarg's formality. "Let the record show that this was a suicide."

He faced the two servants and nodded along with Dundarg's words.

"Yes, if there is anything that could be done to aid you in this matter I would offer it happily in recompense for any... distress that I might have caused you this evening, and I am sure the same is true of Dundarg." He paused a moment, thinking, then went on. "I would not presume to know the particulars of your situation, or Mistress Martha's, but it might be that you find yourselves in want of employment. Should that be the case, feel free to call upon me, whether here in Windsor before season's end, in Chatham during recess, or in London when court resumes."

One could always use a good housekeeper or groom, after all, and while Charles already had a valet, Gregory was obviously intelligent, articulate and discreet, and there was no end to the work to which a man with such qualities could be usefully put.

[Blackguard]

Arthur looked up at last, as if granted a last minute reprieve.  His eyes were bloodshot and the look of hopelessness began to melt away.

"Thank you milords," Gregory replied on behalf of both.  "It is our duty to see Annie home ourselves.  Your offer is much appreciated.  It is likewise our duty to conserve Master Merriweather's estate for his niece.  We think she will be needing us.  If not, your generous offer, Lord Chatham, will be considered."

Arthur fidgeted with the buttons on his coat nervously.  "Thank ye milords.  I best return to the stable and see to things."  Unless they objected, he was eager to take his leave.

[Douglas FitzJames]

The Interrogation

Dundarg was pleased that Chatham formally agreed with him, nodding in acknowledgement. Both men could see that there was nothing to be gained by punishing Arthur. Yes, technically he was guilty of murder, and no one wanted to encourage servants to think that they could attack their masters, but these were exceptional circumstances. Extreme provocation, and the breaking of the covenant between master and staff. 

Chatham offered his own employment if any of the staff found that theirs did not continue. Dundarg had been of a similar mind but would not usurp the other man's offer; he got there first. Gregory declined initially, stating that they had a duty of care to the estate and their master's heir. Douglas nodded. "I'm sure she weel appreciate yer assistance." He said. "I gather Merriweather haed some... interestin' business associates. If ye feel thair micht be ony trouble fer his niece, I daresay I kin help."* Douglas had experience dealing with those whose business was less than legitimate. Admitedly at the point of a sword, but experience none the less.

Douglas had no problem with Arthur leaving, though being the suspicious bastard he was, he had one final request of Gregory. "I wuid see the body fer a moment, tae confirm whit we hae been telt." He said in request. "Thain we weel leave ye and yern in peace."** He promised. 

Subtitles
* "I'm sure she will appreciate your assistance. I gather Merriweather had some... interesting business associates. If you feel there might be any trouble for his niece, I daresay I can help."
** ""I would see the body for a moment, to confirm what we have been told. Then we will leave you and yours in peace."

[Charles Audley]

The Interrogation

Charles accepted Gregory's demurral with equanimity, nodding in acquiescence. The refusal was not wholly unexpected, but the offer had had to be made nonetheless.

"The sudden inheritance of an estate of such a... varied nature as your late master's would be a challenge for anyone, and when the inheritor is a woman there will be a horde of fortune seekers and other unsavoury characters sniffing about. She will likely need your aid," he said agreeably. "If there is anything I can do to help, do let me know."

Dundarg wanted to see the body of the dead maid, and that was probably due diligence, Charles decided, and so offered no protest to the idea.   

[Blackguard]

Both lords showed a kindness not witnesses by Gregory and Arthur, at least on a regular basis.  "Thank you both," Gregory replied.  "His niece has been ,,, detained, so i expect she shall not arrive in London for a month or so.  The master had many business counterparts and I am not quite sure what to expect from them once the news is spread that Master is dead."  There was a hopeful look between the two lords that they might make good on an offer of assistance if things went badly. To Gregory's mind, the Earl seemed just the sort of fellow that should be introduced to the heiress in London.

Without objection, Douglas was led to the stable by Arthur.  The familiar smell of death was present, but only mildly so.  A box was opened and the small frame of a teen girl was at rest inside.  A bouquet of now dead flowers lay on her decaying lifeless form.