A Death in the Wedding Party (13 page)

‘Could you find out who delivered the late night drink to her room? The little maid who makes my fire in the morning, Daisy, said it was a Lucy who’s meant to do the drinks, but she’s a bit shy and can leave them outside the room instead of knocking.’

‘Which would give someone the perfect opportunity to drop something in it,’ said Merry thoughtfully. ‘I’ve seen Daisy. Strikes me she could be a right little chatterbox if you let her.’

I nodded. ‘Right. I’ll start with her. But it does beg a question. Did someone intend to poison Lady Stapleford right the way along, so they had the poison on hand or was it a spur of the moment thing?’

‘The only way we’ll know that,’ I said, ‘is when or if we find out what poisoned her.’

Merry nodded. ‘Yeah, any big house like this is a poisoner’s delight from rat poison to the stuff they clean the silver with – and that’s not mentioning any of the stuff the gardeners use.’

‘So once we know what it is … I’ll have to make that doctor tell me … We’re be able to work out who had the opportunity to get the poison.’

‘Right then, you set to charming the police and that doctor and I’ll start with a little chat with our Daisy.’

When Merry had gone I sat down to think. I couldn’t very well ignore the Countess’s request that we spent the time between now and luncheon thinking about the deceased. I thought mainly of how I would like to write my thoughts down, so I could untangle the warring ideas in my head. However, although I intended to do this later at my leisure the chances of an inquisitive maid coming across my notes was too great a risk. But then again not all maids could read. Daisy would probably use it for kindling. I turned things round and round in my head. It simply didn’t make sense that the Staplefords were involved in this. As far as I knew Lady Stapleford had been all for the wedding. I believed she had intended to use the opportunity to launch herself back into society and find herself a new husband. Heavens, my grandfather could even have been one of her targets. This did not bear thinking about. The luncheon bell sounded. (A gong for dinner. A bell for luncheon. I wondered if this was to ensure guests who spent all their time inebriated would be able to tell which was which.)

I headed downstairs only to be informed by Robbins that luncheon had been laid out buffet style in the garden room. ‘The doors are open onto the terrace, your Highness,’ he said. ‘I believe you will not find the prospect unpleasing.’ I thanked him politely, mentally noting yet again that it was the staff who not only behaved better, but often spoke better than their supposed ‘betters’.

Silver cutlery flashed and crystal twinkled on the well-laden table. Before me lay a feast that even Mrs Deighton would have found hard to beat. My stomach growled in a most unladylike manner at the sight of real food after last night’s debacle. I picked up a plate and began to happily serve myself. Other guests milled around me, but for the first few minutes the glorious food held my attention. Quails eggs! Buttered lobster! Asparagus spears in a hollandaise sauce, so light and creamy it positively caressed my tongue. Delighted with my spoils, I tucked in with gusto. I was sucking the meat from a heavenly lobster tail when I became aware someone had sat down beside me.

‘You are very brave,’ said Renard Layfette’s voice, ‘or is it merely what the English call ‘having phlegm’?’

I took the lobster from between my lips. It made an most unfortunate sound. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, trying to brazen my blushes out.

‘Why, that someone has died of poisoning in this house after eating the food.’

I looked down at my half-consumed plate and felt suddenly less hungry. ‘What did you think I meant?’ continued Layfette. ‘Is there another secret that you are keeping?’

‘I understand you and Lady Stapleford were at odds,’ I challenged in an attempt to distract him.

Renard gave a Gallic shrug. ‘Me, I say live and let live. Lady Stapleford held other views.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She disapproved of my lifestyle.’

I waited for him to say more. This was a man who loved attention and the sound of his own voice.

‘It is an old story. I was a little wild in my youth. All the most interesting people are, I find, don’t you? But you are still young. Maybe there is time yet left for you to be – interesting.’

I could not think of an answer to this, so I remained silent. However, I did feel insulted. Layfette gave a little laugh. ‘Forgive. I am surprised to find it still rankles. My father disowned me. He is, of course, dead now. Whole swathes of society set their face against me. Yet here I am, so many years later, dining at the table of an Earl. In the end I am the survivor, the winner.’

‘And how did Lady Stapleford feel about your presence here?’

‘I have no idea. I did not talk to her. I expect she was not happy. But what could she say? Her husband is dead and she is poor now and of no account.’

‘Especially because she is dead,’ I pointed out.

‘
Tant pis
!’ said Renard. ‘Life must go on. I shall leave you to enjoy your lobster in peace.’

All at once I felt very vulnerable and out of my depth. I left my plate half-finished, declined anything sweet and left the room. Conversation buzzed behind me, but I told myself continuing to ask questions in a crowded room would only draw attention. As I wandered into the hallway I made a discovery. I had nothing to do. Without the consolidating focus of the wedding rehearsals all the guests were left high and dry. Some of the men might retire to smoke, drink whisky and play cards, but for the ladies there was only tea and cake – and we had only just had luncheon. If I had been at home at Stapleford Hall – how strange to think of it as home – I would be overloaded with tasks. I missed being busy. I could not imagine how the Earl and his cronies made their way so aimlessly through life. A life my mother had always wanted for me, but I was now quite certain I would never want for myself.

A tap on my shoulder made me jump. Lord Milford, also known as Fitzroy, stood beside me. ‘If I could ask Your Highness to accompany me to the small library for a moment?’ he asked with extreme politeness.

I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Of course, here was the very man to sort out all this nastiness. I gave him what I hoped was a stunning smile and nodded.

The small library was in a corner turret room and was indeed deficient in space. However, it had large windows that gave out over the wild flower garden and fountain. I imagined many an Earl or Viscount had whiled away hours in here ‘reading’ while staring out of the window at the heavenly view.

‘I am so glad to see you,’ I said as Fitzroy closed the door.

‘How very flattering,’ he said. He came across to the table and opened a small folder. ‘I hope you are not foolish enough to think I will let myself get embroiled in this fiasco?’

‘Fiasco! The woman was murdered?’

‘Was she?’ asked Fitzroy levelly. ‘I don’t believe there has been anything more than conjecture at present. Your conjecture. Personally, when working under an alias I consider it wise to remain as inconspicuous as possible.’

‘You mean you would let justice fail because you don’t want people to know you are not Lord Milford?’

‘Who says I am not? This may be my real name.’

‘Is it?’

‘Some time ago you and Mr MacLeod were kind enough to sign some papers to keep ensure you kept matter that occurred in the Highlands secret.’
⁹

‘This is why you wanted to see me?’

‘Euphemia, rid yourself of the idea that I have an interest in Lady Stapleford’s death.’ He put up a hand to stop me from retorting. ‘Even if she was murdered, I simply do not care to draw attention to myself, nor do I have any interest in catching a domestic murderer should there actually be one!’

‘But Richard Stapleford is involved! You said you wanted to hear of unusual that occurred with the family.’

‘I believe that was Mr Edward rather than myself. Now, here I have a copy of what is to be known as the official secrets act. I’d be grateful if you could sign it now.’

‘And if I don’t.’

Fitzroy raised an eyebrow. ‘Do not imagine for one moment that you can blackmail me into helping you solve this mystery.’

I jumped on this. ‘So you agree there is a mystery!’

Fitzroy held out a pen to me. ‘Sign.’ I hesitated. ‘You know how efficient I can be. I need all the loose ends of the Highland incident tided.’ He paused. ‘One way or another.’

In spite of the heat from the sunlight pouring through the glass I found myself shivering.

‘Exactly. Now be a good girl.’

I very much wished I could slap him, but regardless of what title or name he used I knew Fitzroy was no gentleman and would have no qualms about slapping me back or worse. I put my chin up. ‘For King and country,’ I said and signed.

‘Well played,’ said the hateful Fitzroy. ‘Knowing when to yield the field is a most important skill. If not the most important skill.’

‘If you think I am going to give up trying to find the murderer of Lady Stapleford you are quite mistaken.’

‘The police have been called, Euphemia.’

‘And we both know how much influence the regular police have in high society, don’t we?’

‘
Touche.
But are you not concerned about your grandfather discovering who you are?’

‘Unless you tell him I doubt there will be a problem.’

Unexpectedly Fitzroy grinned. For a moment his face lit up and he looked almost handsome. ‘Bravo!’ he said. ‘I can tell you this she was poisoned with arsenic.’

‘How do you?’

He crossed the room in three quick strides and put his finger to my lips. ‘No questions. And remember to stay well away from my business.’

I swallowed and nodded. Fitzroy turned his back to me and went to gather up the papers. ‘I suggest you wait a few moments before exiting the room to ensure no one sees us closeted together. Her Highness’s reputation is damaged enough without daylight trysts under such serious circumstances.’

‘I’m surprised you care.’

‘Oh, I like her Highness very much,’ said Fitzroy his hand on the door. ‘Take care, Euphemia.’

A shudder ran through me. If Fitzroy was telling me to take care then things must be serious. I gave myself a mental shake. Everyone was making far too much of a state about this. It was quite simple: we had a murderer in the house, and I had to find him or her. My knees wobbled and I sat down hastily on a chair. And I had done everything to declare I would find him. The enormity of what I had done hit me. I had made myself a target, and this time neither Rory nor Bertram were in a position to help me.

______________

⁹
See
A Death in the Highlands

A Policeman’s Lot

Dinner was a muted affair. Neither Richenda nor Bertram made an appearance. Everyone dutifully made conversation, but the topics of death and weddings were avoided. I learnt a lot about current London fashion and began to feel something of an interest despite myself. By the time the ladies rose to take tea spirits seem to be rising. We were all complicit in denying anything was amiss. I discovered it was a skill at which the upper classes excelled. ‘Life goes on’ was the unspoken motto.

Surrounded by the ancient wall of The Court I could in some ways understand this. Those present were all part of old families. Families who could trace their lineage back through various wars around the globe where various illustrious family members had lost limbs and lives. But despite whatever disasters befell them the families endured. Everyone took having an heir and spare extremely seriously.

‘You’re looking very serious, my dear,’ said the Countess coming to sit by me. ‘And I was so trying to lighten the mood. Rather difficult when one has a body in the pantry.’

This comment won no answering smile from me. I felt the Countess’s flippancy was wearing thin. She patted my hand. ‘I’m sure Ratty will have it all sorted out by this evening. He’s with the police person now. Then we can all get back to enjoying the wedding. After a quick funeral, of course. Lady Stapleford was French, wasn’t she? Was she Catholic? Would she want bells and smells?’

‘I’m sorry, did you say the police were here?’

‘Don’t worry, my dear. As I said Ratty is taking care of it all. You won’t have to see them.’

‘Excuse me,’ I said rising hastily. ‘I think I need a breath of fresh air.’

‘Of course,’ said the Countess. ‘It is quite close in here. If you go along the west walk you should find the lilacs are in flower. They should smell divine tonight.’

I intercepted Robbins on his way to deliver further port to the dining room. ‘Where is the Earl?’

‘He is currently closeted with the police people, ma’am.’

‘I know that, but where?’

Robbins’s white eyebrows rose and there was a little pause. This was doubtless the closest he got to questioning a guest. ‘I believe he is in his study.’

Two could play the waiting game, so I stood my ground.

‘It is the third door on the left in the old east wing corridor,’ Robbins finally gave up. ‘I believe he does not wish to be disturbed at present. Do the ladies require more tea? I would be more than happy to send one of the maids to attend to it.’

‘What an excellent idea,’ I said. Then I made my way quickly to the Earl’s study before Robbins could get away to warn his master of my upcoming intrusion.

Whether one knocks, or not, before entering a room you know to be occupied, or not is a question that often confounds new staff and guests who aren’t used to staying in great houses.

The answer is you never knock. If you intend to do something indiscreet or private in a room then there are ways of telegraphing this to your staff and a good butler should always anticipate such circumstances. If you have to knock, then you shouldn’t be entering the room, is the basic answer. Therefore I acted like royalty, who of course have a right to go anywhere they please, and walked straight into the Earl’s little conference.

Ratty sat behind a vast desk. Threep stood behind him and opposite on a small padded wooden chair sat a man in a long, plain, brown coat that the Earl wouldn’t have given to his dog to lie on. He was a tall man and had folded uncomfortably into the chair. He clutched his hat between two shovel like hands. When I entered he was leaning forward, while the Earl sat back in his seat very much at his ease.