After Di's stormy departure, the foursome held a quick conference. Frodo reported what he'd learned from his visit to the Lowfoots, and what Florisel had said about his friendship with Lady Iris. He was surprised to learn that his friends had done so little with the same amount of time, and especially that Sam had made no inroads with Mrs. Scrubbs.
"The morning's no good for getting in a word with Mrs. Scrubbs," Sam protested in his own defense. "'Tween first and second breakfast, then getting ready for lunch, she wouldn't have me in her kitchen."
"Well, you'll have a better chance now," Frodo replied. "She won't have another meal to see to 'til tea-time. That's two whole hours. Off you go!" He gave Sam a push to send him toward the door.
"What about us?" Merry asked after Sam had gone. "What can we do?"
"Come with me, Merry. It's time I had that chat with Persifilla."
"Do want me to do anything, Frodo?" asked Pippin.
"If you're looking for something to do, Pip," said Merry, "you might try to find proof that Di's father is innocent--if you're finished proving that Isigo couldn't've poisoned the wine either. How has that line of inquiry turned out? Or have you and Diantha been too busy with your matchmaking to bother about it?"
"I don't think either of them did it," Pippin retorted. "I've spent enough time with Isigo by now to know he's all right. Maybe that isn't proof, but it's what I feel. I wouldn't be trying to marry Diamond off to a poisoner, would I? He's a good lad. And Di's father is a decent hobbit."
"He'll be a wonderful father-in-law for you."
Pippin grinned at this jab. "Besides, Frodo says they aren't very high on his list."
Frodo had to concede that this was so. They parted company in the corridor, Merry and Frodo going to find Persifilla, and Pippin going off on his own.
"You didn't have a chance to talk to her earlier?" Frodo asked his cousin before they went into the parlor.
"A word or two, no more. She wasn't feeling flirtatious today, and we were never left alone."
The Tooks had finished their lunch and had dispersed on their business in and out of the house. Most of the ladies were in the parlor, but Persifilla was not among them. The pair tried the family bedrooms next, although they weren't certain which room was hers. By trial and error, knocking on a few doors and peeking into a few rooms, they found her sitting at her dressing table, carefully brushing her dark chestnut curls into ringlets around her fingers.
When she saw the visitors at her door, she set down her brush and turned to them, smiling. "Do come in. My husband would be shocked to know that I've invited gentlemen into my bedchamber, but I've been expecting you." She regarded Frodo nervously. "I know you've wanted to talk to me, Mr. Baggins. Merry said you would, after- well- what happened last night. He's told you all about it, I suppose?"
"Yes," said Frodo as he and Merry came into the room. "I've just a few questions to ask you about it. You don't mind, do you?"
"No... it must be done. I see that." She sat up straight, hands folded in her lap, and looked up at him expectantly. "I'll tell you what you want to know."
Merry had remained by the door. "Do you want me to stay, Frodo?"
Persifilla looked as if she would prefer it, but Frodo answered, "No, that's all right, Merry. You can wait outside. Keep watch. Or perhaps you might go and distract anyone who doesn't want me to talk with Mrs. Took? If they ask, you don't know where we are. See that they don't come looking."
Merry nodded. "I'll do what I can," he promised, and went out.
After he had gone, Persifilla regarded Frodo more nervously. She blushed very prettily and gave him a shy smile. "I'm a little afraid of you, Mr. Baggins," she confessed. "I'm sure Merry's told you that too. I hope you won't be too hard with me." Her gaze dropped and, when she met his eyes again, hers were hopeful, but Frodo did not give her the gallant response she was used to receiving from young males.
"If you're honest, then you've nothing to be frightened of," he told her. "Just tell me: Where exactly did you find these seed pods you saw in your husband's room? Can you show me?"
Persifilla nodded and rose to lead Frodo into a small dressing-room that connected her husband's bedroom with hers. There was a tall oaken wardrobe and a squat chest of drawers beside it; Persifilla went to the latter piece of furniture and opened the top drawer, where neatly folded underclothes and handkerchiefs were piled in stacks. "Here," she said, indicating the gap between two stacks.
"These are your husband's things," observed Frodo. "What were you looking in here for?"
"I was short of handkerchiefs, and thought Ulfidius might have some of mine. The silly girl is always mixing up our laundry and putting things in the wrong places," Persifilla explained. "And there they were."
Frodo examined the contents of the drawer, and the faded sheet of cheesecloth lining the bottom. "When did this happen?" he asked.
"Weeks ago. Before Granduncle was so very ill. I thought it odd at the time that Ulfidius would keep such things. He has no interest in gardening, and those ugly little seed-pods have such an odd, nasty smell, not pleasant like lavender or rose petals. But then I forgot about it and didn't think of it again until you began talking about laburnum pods and poison, and I couldn't help but wonder..."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Took," Frodo said, "but I don't believe you. Laburnum pods, as you say, have a distinctive scent, and they leave an oily mark on cloth. Even after a few weeks, there'd be some traces on the lining here, and there are none. It's not a new lining--it looks like it's been here for months." He shut the door and turned to face her. "The truth now, please. Why were you really out in the garden last night gathering seed pods? You were planning to put them in here, weren't you, to cast suspicion on your husband?"
Persifilla stared at him with the eyes of a cornered doe. She didn't answer, but Frodo could see he'd guessed rightly.
"Mrs. Took, why?"
"Because I can't stand him!" she cried out. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned and darted into her room to fling herself sobbing on the seat at the foot of her bed. Frodo followed as far as the doorway. "It's not as if Granduncle Brabantius is dead," Persifilla said after a moment. "Ulfidius wouldn't be hanged if everyone thought it was him, would he? But he might be sent away. He's awful, Mr. Baggins! You don't know what it's like, being married to him."
"I thought you didn't love him either," said Frodo.
"I don't--but it isn't that. I could bear our bargain, if only he were more agreeable and did as I want once in awhile. But he never does. He only smiles in that heartless way." She sobbed. "And Hil is so useless!"
"Hilbarus?" Frodo was confused.
Persifilla lifted her tear-streaked face from the curve of her arm. "I thought he'd done it, you see."
"Done it?" echoed Frodo. "You mean, you thought he poisoned his grandfather?"
She nodded.
"You asked him to?"
"No, of course not! But he knew how much I wanted to be Lady of the Cleeve. When I asked him last night if he'd done it, for me, he was horrified that I'd think such a thing. I should've known. Hil can't do anything right!"
Pippin, meanwhile, had gone outside for a pipe. There was no convenient grove on the slope near his bedroom window, so he went into the garden before the Thain's Hall to put his feet up on a bench while he smoked. He tried to think of ways to help Alamaric and Isigo, but his thoughts instead turned to Merry's reaction to his friendship with Diantha. He couldn't help it. From time to time, a small, satisfied smile touched the corners of his mouth.
Some time later, Diantha came out of the smial next door and came through the gate in the hedge. "You're alone, Pip?"
Pippin nodded and put down his feet to make room on the bench for her.
Diantha did not take the offered seat immediately. "Poppa says I have to apologize to Frodo--to all of you," she announced, and looked both sulky and contrite.
"You told him?"
"Everything! I thought he should be warned after what happened at lunch today, but he said I wasn't to be so silly and make such a fuss about it. He said he hadn't tried to poison Granduncle or anybody, and Mr. Baggins'd find that out for himself in good time, and I wasn't to go flaming off at him but let him get to his work. He also said he hoped that this'd teach me to keep my tongue. If I watched what I said more carefully, we'd have nothing to worry about." She stopped to catch her breath. "Oh, Pippin, I am sorry for the awful things I said. I didn't really mean it. Well, I did when I said it, but I don't anymore."
"I'm sorry I told Frodo about the tunnels in the first place," Pippin apologized in return. "He and Merry forced it out of me."
"Do you think Frodo will forgive me for hitting him?"
"I don't see why he shouldn't," said Pippin. "Sam mightn't--he's awfully protective about Frodo, you know--but I'm sure Frodo understands how you feel. I do. I was in the same position myself not so very long ago. A boy was killed in Tuckborough and Frodo and Merry thought my father or sister or somebody else in my family might've done it."
"They didn't, did they?" asked Di, and sat down beside him.
"No, it was somebody else. No relation of ours. But it wasn't very nice to know they were suspected, and not knowing myself if it was one of them after all, even if I didn't want to believe it was true."
"Yes, that's it's exactly," said Di. "Oh, I know it can't be Poppa, but knowing that Frodo's considering him is bad enough. Tell me, Pippin--is there anything I can do to make him stop considering Poppa and look at somebody else? Not somebody else I like, I mean. I want him to find the real person who tried to poison Granduncle, but I don't want it to be anyone I care about. I'm not even sure I want it to be Hil or Helimarcus." Her eyes brightened. "I could say that I took the key to that door and went through to the Thain's Hall the night before Granduncle Brabantius was so ill for some mischief or other, then forgot to put it back in the drawer so that Poppa couldn't possibly-"
Pippin shook his head. "Frodo wouldn't believe you. He'd see right through it. He's that clever--more than the two of us put together."
Di had to concede that this was so. "Oh, gobby-lobs!" she said in frustration. "Your friend Merry was right, Pippin. Being in a murder isn't any fun at all."
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
