03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court (2 page)

‘Lavinia’s
back!’ Cedric put a hand to his chest and in that moment Rose realised how much
he had missed his older sister, how much he had felt abandoned by her to deal
with the aftermath of the Ashgrove tragedies. It was true that Lavinia had
probably been most affected of anyone by what had transpired, but even so, how
could she have just escaped to the Continent and left Cedric to cope with it
alone? Even as she thought it, Rose knew that she was being unreasonable. Who
could tell how she would have felt in similar circumstances?  

Some five
or six months had elapsed since Lavinia had up and fled, and Rose realised that
she was feeling nervous at the prospect of renewing their acquaintance. She contemplated
what had brought Lavinia back now. She wondered whether somehow unconsciously
they had called her back, she and Cedric, whether by uttering her name at
Sedgwick Court, her childhood home, and recalling memories of her they had summoned
her home. Of course it was all nonsense, Rose knew that. It was perfectly
understandable that Lavinia should think of family as Christmas fast
approached, and on the heels of that to have a sudden longing to return home.
She had been away long enough and the scandal and speculation surrounding the
events that had occurred at Ashgrove had long since died down and been
superseded by other matters, other gossip.

Such as
what had occurred at Dareswick Hall, thought Rose gloomily. She wondered
whether news of those murders had reached Lavinia’s ears. Perhaps that was the
reason for her coming back. Whatever the reason, she could not help feeling
apprehensive about Lavinia’s unexpected return, or rid herself of a ridiculous feeling
of foreboding, as if their carefree weekend had disappeared with Lavinia’s
arrival. Of course, it was illogical, she told herself. However, Lavinia’s presence
was certain to change these few snatched days with Cedric at Sedgwick, not
least because Lavinia was unlikely to be pleased by Rose’s presence at her
family home. If nothing else it was an indication that the fledgling romance that
had begun between Cedric and Rose at Ashgrove had developed further in her
absence. Oh well, thought Rose, she has only herself to blame for that.

‘Lavinia!’
Cedric’s sudden exclamation recalled her from her musings and she looked up to
see a figure in the distance making its way quickly towards them through the
formal gardens and across the parkland. It was engulfed in a fine great wool
coat edged in silver fox fur at cuffs and neck and complemented by a fur hat
that hid the figure’s face so completely that anyone at this distance, except
for Cedric, would have been uncertain as to the figure’s identity. For one
second, although she knew that she was being unfair to Cedric, given the look
of delight that had lit up his face, Rose prayed that it was not Lavinia, that
the servants had been mistaken.

While she
was thinking these uncharitable thoughts, Cedric had leapt forward as if to make
his way towards the figure. Rose meanwhile remained where she was looking on,
reluctant to intrude on the family reunion. But before she knew it, Lavinia was
upon them, standing a few feet from her, embracing Cedric warmly, her shrill,
infectious laughter carrying on the winter’s air. Peeping under her fur hat was
the same platinum dyed hair that Rose remembered so well. She was equally sure
that under the great coat Lavinia would have the same willowy figure.
Immediately Rose felt herself fade into the background, her own looks
overshadowed by her erstwhile friend’s.

As if
suddenly aware of Rose’s presence, Lavinia looked up and caught her eye. Rose
took in her even, delicate, aristocratic beauty, so very different to her own
plain looks. Lavinia had always had a tendency to look aloof. Now she looked
something else too. Annoyed, Rose was sure of it, although the look of
annoyance, if that was what it was, crossed her face only momentarily, hastily
replaced by a look of superficial pleasure.

But Rose had
not been fooled. Lavinia did not want her there. And something else, she was
sure of it; her being there had upset Lavinia’s plans.

‘Oh,
Ceddie, I’ve missed you terribly,’ exclaimed Lavinia, disentangling herself
from her brother’s embrace. ‘I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back here
at Sedgwick, darling Sedgwick. I had a ball on the Continent, an absolute ball,
but it’s so good to be home, I can’t tell you.’

‘I say,
Lavinia, you do look awfully well. But why ever didn’t you write to say you’d
be coming home, or send a telegram or something?’ asked Cedric, holding her by
the shoulders a little away from him so that he could take in her appearance. ‘You
could have telephoned.’

‘Really,
Ceddie, must you go on and on about it?’ Lavinia laughed. ‘If you must know, I
only decided at the very last minute to come home. I had a sudden longing for
Sedgwick and to see you too, of course. And then I thought what an awfully
wonderful surprise it would be for you, me being home in time for Christmas.’

Lavinia
looked up and feigned surprise as if she had only just become aware of Rose’s
existence. Rose meanwhile stood hovering awkwardly in the background.

‘Why,
Rose darling,’ Lavinia said, ‘I didn’t see you there hiding in the shadows. This
is a surprise,’ she paused deliberately before adding: ‘A wonderful one, of
course.’

Cedric
beamed, looked at Rose and grinned, his eyes shining. How easily he was taken
in by his sister, Rose thought, and she felt a sudden stab of tenderness
towards him. It wasn’t that he was naïve or simply couldn’t see Lavinia for
what she was. Rose knew he just desperately wanted Lavinia to accept their
relationship, which had developed in her prolonged absence.

‘Hello
Lavinia.’ Rose said the words as warmly as she could muster, although her
feeling of uneasiness had grown, spreading over her like a veil and making her
feel a little sick.

‘I must
look a fright,’ Lavinia was saying to Cedric. ‘I’ve been travelling all day. I
simply haven’t stopped for a moment, I was far too anxious to see you and be
back here. You know what I’m like once I’ve set my mind to something, impatient
and all that. Why, I think Torridge was even shocked by my appearance when he
first saw me, weren’t you?’ She flung a somewhat affectionate look at the head-butler,
who was doing his best to protest while at the same time not wishing to appear
to contradict his mistress. An impossible task by anyone’s standards.

‘Now, I
really must wash and have a little lie down, or I’ll be fit for absolutely
nothing. You wouldn’t believe how tiring travelling is, it absolutely drains
one. Torridge, tell me, is my room ready for me, say it is?’

The
butler nodded in a rather hesitant fashion, Rose thought. No doubt there had
been a great deal of activity going on among the servants in the time between
Lavinia’s unexpected arrival and her journey towards them through the gardens
and parkland. In her mind’s eye, Rose saw the housekeeper and housemaids
scurrying around busily in Lavinia’s room like ants, polishing and dusting,
putting out fresh linen, using an Electrolux suction cleaner on the carpet, sweeping
the grate and laying the fire.

‘Do come
with me, Rose,’ Lavinia said carelessly over her shoulder as if it were some
throw away remark. Rose did her best to hide her surprise. ‘It would be so nice
to have a little chat after all this time,’ Lavinia continued. ‘And you can
fill me in on all the gossip. You can tell me all about Madame Renard and her dreadful
little dress shop.’ She stopped and turned, addressing Rose sharply as if a
sudden and far from pleasing thought had suddenly occurred to her. ‘I take it
you are still working in Madame Renard’s shop?’

‘Yes, I am,’
said Rose casting a last look at Cedric before setting off in Lavinia’s wake.
She noticed that, while he was apparently grinning, there was a slight look of
apprehension on his face which he was doing his best to conceal. Perhaps, Rose
thought, he is as unsettled as I am by his sister’s sudden reappearance.

Meanwhile
Lavinia had set off back to the house at quite a pace and Rose had to hurry to
catch her up. She noticed that Manning was undecided as to whether he should
follow them or not, while old Torridge had remained behind with his master, no
doubt to discuss the revised arrangements for dinner, which Lavinia’s sudden
arrival had brought about. It seemed to Rose that in those few minutes since
Lavinia’s appearance everything had changed, and probably not for the better.
The crisp December air which a few moments ago had been bright and embracing,
now felt chilly. It was as if the very weather was waiting for something to
happen. Quite ridiculous of course, Rose admonished herself for letting her fancy
run away with her. Lavinia had been nothing but charming towards her, even if
she had clearly hoped that only Cedric would be there at Sedgwick to greet her
on her return. But one thing was certain, Rose thought, no matter how one
looked at it, it certainly wasn’t going to be the quiet few days that she had envisaged.

‘Miss Denning,
I can’t tell you how good it is to have you back,’ said Mrs Broughton, the cook
at Sedgwick Court, as the lady’s maid bustled into the servants’ hall.

‘And good
to be back it is too,’ said Eliza Denning with feeling, sinking onto one of the
chairs drawn up to the table. ‘My throat’s that parched for a good, proper,
English cup of tea, I can tell you, Mrs Broughton. Mustn’t complain as I know
there’s many a woman in my position who’d give their right arm to travel as
I’ve done these past few months. But I tell you, Mrs Broughton, those
foreigners don’t know how to make a proper cup of tea, so they don’t. It’s
either brewed so strong you’d swear it was treacle, or so milky you’d never
think it had seen a tea leaf.’

‘That
doesn’t surprise me, Miss Denning, so it doesn’t. They prefer coffee on the Continent,
so I’ve heard. Horrible, strong, bitter stuff too. Now, you just sit there and
take the weight off your feet, and Dolly here will get you a nice cup of tea,
won’t you, girl? Why, I think I might join you.’

She
glanced at the kitchen maid, who scuttled off to fulfil the task assigned to her.
Presently two steaming cups of tea and their accompanying saucers were
deposited in front of the two women, and Eliza took a grateful sip.

‘Ah,
that’s better. Honestly, Mrs Broughton, I think half the time those foreigners don’t
even let the water boil, the number of lukewarm cups of tea I’ve drunk since
I’ve been away.’

‘Well,
you’re back home now,’ said the cook comfortingly, taking a sip of her own tea,
‘and that’s all that matters. Things can return to normal, or as normal as they
can be with a new master in place. You’ll feel as if you’ve never been away, so
you will.’

‘But will
they?’ asked Eliza, removing her hat and depositing the hat pins on the table.
‘Return to normal, that is? I’m not so sure about that. You’ve probably not
heard from Mrs Farrier yet, but her ladyship’s only gone and invited her new friends
from the Continent to come and stay, hasn’t she?’   

‘No!’ The
cook looked clearly alarmed. ‘Why, Mrs Farrier’s said nothing to me about it.’

‘I expect
she’s only just been told about it herself. I did beg m’lady to write, but
she’d have none of it. She wanted to surprise her brother, so she did. Although
I’d say she’s had something of a nasty surprise herself, what with Miss Simpson
being here. I’m not one to gossip, as you know, but I rather think she was
hoping that his lordship might set his cap at quite another young lady of her
acquaintance.’

‘Indeed?’
said Mrs Broughton, leaning towards her conspiratorially. ‘And who might she
be, when she’s at home, this young lady to whom you’re referring?’

‘Miss Emmeline
Montacute, that’s who, heiress to the Montacute fortune. You must have heard of
her surely, or her father at least? He, no I tell a lie, his father I think it
was, was the founder of those great Montacute department stores you hear so
much about. Them that sell readymade clothing and household items and the like.
Travelling on the Continent, she was, she and her companion, just like m’lady,
and they got to talking. Quite taken with each other they were. Before long
everything was “Miss Emmeline thinks this” and “Miss Emmeline thinks that” as
if Lady Lavinia had known her for years. Still, I was pleased to see some
colour come back into m’lady’s cheeks.’

‘Well, I
never. And is she one of them, then, that’s coming to stay here at Sedgwick?
Mrs Farrier will be tearing her hair out getting the rooms ready.’ The cook
paused as her thoughts went to the housekeeper who’d already been into the
servants’ hall to grumble about Lavinia’s unexpected arrival.

‘She is
indeed, Mrs Broughton. And happen we’ll have one of those foreign counts
staying under our roof as well! I tell you, it’s going to be all go here, so it
is!’ 

‘Yes,’
grumbled the cook rousing herself. ‘And like as not I’ll have to go about
changing the menus. What suits a shop girl and the like, is hardly likely to
meet with the approval of an heiress and a count, even if he’s foreign, to say
nothing of Lady Lavinia. Her ladyship likes her food all fine and dandy, so she
does, not like his lordship.’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘Well, I can’t stay here
gossiping, Miss Denning. Not when there’s work to be done.’ And she was gone to
round up the scullery and kitchen maids, to inform them in no uncertain terms
that they’d have to work their knuckles to the bone over the coming days, so
they would. So they’d better start bucking their ideas up right now, or they’d
have her to answer to.

As soon
as they had made their way into the house, Lavinia tore off her hat and coat
and handed them to one of the waiting footmen who was conveniently lingering in
the hall. Before Rose had time to take a breath, her friend was already mounting
the great oak staircase, seeming to take two stairs at a time, so that Rose was
forced to hurry after her, scurrying behind her like a wayward shadow.

‘Oh, I do
hope that Eliza’s seen fit to unpack my cases and put away my things,’ Lavinia
was saying. ‘The girl was desperate to get to the servants’ hall and catch up
on all the gossip, and I daresay one can’t blame her. Even so, it is rather
trying when all one wants to do is have a lie down in one’s own room among
one’s own things without being surrounded by cases and travelling
paraphernalia. Why, if I have to see another trunk, I think I’ll scream ...’

Her voice
trailed off as, reaching her room, her fears proved unfounded. Her clothes had
either been hung up in the wardrobe or taken to the laundry, and her various
bottles, potions and other such toiletries were arranged neatly on her dressing
table.

Lavinia
gave a sigh of relief. Rose, for her part, marvelled at the speed by which the
various servants must have worked to ensure that the room was tidy and
welcoming. A fire had even been hastily laid and was burning gently in the
grate so as to give the newly awakened room some warmth, without making it seem
stiflingly hot or stuffy.

‘I say,
it is good to be home.’ Lavinia surveyed her room with something akin to
satisfaction before throwing herself onto the bed. ‘One never quite realises how
much one misses it until one returns after being away. Poor Eliza. The girl was
so homesick. I think she was on the verge of upping and leaving me, and would
have done too, if I’d stayed away for one more night. You should have seen her
face when I said we were returning to Sedgwick. It was an absolute picture. It
was all she could do not to hug me.’ Lavinia looked around the room.
‘Everything’s just as I remember it, although smaller somehow. It seems an age since
I was last here, what with working in that ghastly little dress shop in London,
and then of course after everything that happened at Ashgrove ...’ Lavinia’s
voice faltered and she idly caressed her bedspread with her hand as if it gave
her comfort to do so, like some long forgotten toy suddenly unearthed. ‘Such a
very long time ago that I was last here, almost like another life.’

Her words
hung in the air as both girls became lost in their own thoughts and memories. They
remembered the events that had occurred at Ashgrove House, which had resulted
In Lavinia’s sudden flight to the Continent. Rose, who had remained standing in
the doorway, hovered and fidgeted awkwardly with the corner of her handkerchief,
her eyes averted from her friend. Meanwhile, Lavinia had moved to her dressing
table, installed herself on the stool positioned in front of it, and was regarding
her reflection critically in the fine oval mirrors.

The
silence became unbearable like some tangible unwelcome presence. If no one
spoke soon, Rose thought, she would surely scream or be forced to run from this
claustrophobic room out into the comforting vastness of the parkland where she
could gulp large mouthfuls of  country air.

‘Lavinia,’
she said tentatively at last, ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am about
everything, I – ’

‘Don’t!’
Lavinia said abruptly, banging her hand down sharply onto the dressing table,
threatening to shatter its surface, to say nothing of the glass above. In the
mirror Rose could see her eyes blazing, brimming with emotion. ‘Don’t say
anything. I don’t want to talk about what happened at my aunt’s house. I want
to forget that anything ever did.’ She turned in her seat and looked at her
friend imploringly. ‘Oh, I know one can’t really, but one can try. And even if
it’s not possible to forget, it doesn’t mean one has to go on and on about it
over and over again until one gets quite sick of it. I’m sure I’ll go quite mad
if I think any more about it. And it won’t change anything if I do, will it? So
what’s the point? I am so very tired of wondering what might have been had
things not happened in the way they did. And I daresay I blamed you and Ceddie
at the time, although I realise now it wasn’t really your fault, none of it.
Now’, she turned back to regard herself in the mirror, ‘don’t you dare get me
started or I really won’t be able to stop. It will be like releasing the flood
gates and all that. Don’t you see, Rose? I want to look forwards not
backwards.’ She dabbed at a stray tear.