A Death in the Pavilion (10 page)

Chapter Seventeen
Stapleford Hall

There was, of course, quite a fuss when Muller and I finally exited his room. This was not helped by Bertram coming up the stairs as we exited and thus having a very good view of Muller and I together silhouetted against the backdrop of his enormous bed. I believe he would have rushed up and done his best to knock Muller down if Muller hadn’t taken that exact moment to announce the death of his mother. It seems in the gentlemanly way of things you cannot knock down the recently bereaved. Bertram said all that was polite though clenched teeth while throwing both of us looks he clearly hoped would kill.

I left Muller to summon the doctor, the housekeeper and the staff necessary to oversee the sad events. ‘I will tell Richenda everything,’ I said quietly to him as I slipped away. I was rewarded with a smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘It is only fair she knows before I ask her. Don’t tell her that though.’ I shook my head. Bertram scowled furiously at us and I saw his fingers twitch over a fine tall vase. I was unsure which of us he most wanted to throw it at, so I made my escape to Richenda’s room.

I told her everything she had missed and everything I had surmised. ‘So there’s no proof,’ she said.

‘None whatsoever,’ I said.

‘But Muller didn’t contest any of it?’

‘No.’

‘Do you believe him?’

‘I’m not sure what you mean?’

‘Do you believe it was his mother who arranged all these deaths and not Muller himself?’

‘If you want me to be honest,’ I said slowly, ‘it is not possible to rule that out, but I don’t believe he did so.’ I stressed the word ‘believe’.

‘You told me once before you almost succumbed to his charm.’

‘Do I think this might have happened again?’

‘That you might have been overwhelmed.’

‘He is very charming,’ I admitted. ‘And frankly there is no way we can ever know the truth now.’

‘I’d better make damn sure I give him a couple of bouncing babies as soon as possible after the wedding,’ said Richenda.

I gave an uneasy smile.

With Muller in mourning there was no way we could stay on as guests in his house. Much to my surprise Richenda, heavily veiled, sent me to fetch Muller to her room. I did point out he had other things to do and we needed to make plans. ‘I know that,’ said Richenda. ‘What do you think I’m doing?’

To my amazement Muller left his arrangements and came at once. I hovered outside her door when Muller went inside to lend some kind of respectability to proceedings. They spoke in low voices for long enough that I was afraid Bertram would come creeping up the stairs again to accuse me of improper behaviour. When the door did open, Muller came out smiling. ‘You can congratulate me,’ he whispered in my ear. He walked off with more spring in his step than I had seen for some time. He stopped at the top of the stairs. ‘Could you stay with her a little longer, Euphemia? There is someone I am sending up for her to see.’ I nodded. I thought he meant the doctor.

Richenda and I played cards for the next two hours. I tried to lose to her, so she wouldn’t become too grumpy, but she was a very bad player. However, she lasted only ten minutes before she broke the news to me that she and Muller were now engaged. ‘We’ll have a proper celebration once this blasted rash has gone down,’ she said. ‘Though it won’t be that big because of his mother’s and Tippy’s deaths. I do think the ballroom will look good in green and orange.’ I felt a twinge of sympathy for Muller.

When Richenda’s visitor did arrive he proved to be an unfamiliar man in an expensively discreet grey suit carrying a briefcase. He nodded at me. ‘She’ll do,’ he said. ‘But we’ll need another one.’

‘No,’ said Richenda. ‘Could you leave us, Euphemia and send up two maids. Two.’

I did as I was bid and then slowly made my way downstairs. Muller was nowhere in sight. I found Richard drinking heavily in the library and managed to withdraw before he saw me. I went out into the garden wondering if Bennie’s fate had yet been discovered. Muller and I could have been wrong. He could have fled the scene.

As soon as I was outside I saw a number of servants and gardeners congregated around the head gardener’s house, so it seemed we had been right. I was about to go back into the house and, frankly, hide in my room until anyone came to fetch me, when I walked into Bertram. He was strolling along the gravel drive, his hands in his pockets, kicking at the stones. He looked up and saw me.

‘Don’t know what to do,’ he said. ‘Do you think I should take off?’

‘I think we all need to leave,’ I said. ‘But it’s probably best that you don’t leave before Richenda.’

‘Even though Richard is here?’

‘You’d be a real rat to run out and leave us alone with him,’ I said.

Bertram grinned. ‘It’s still an appealing idea.’ Then he dropped his head for a moment and looked up at me somewhat abashed. ‘I’m sorry I thought you were … earlier … with Muller.’

‘Bertram,’ I said stoutly, ‘if I ever decide to have a liaison with any man I will do it with discretion. You can be assured I will never rise from a crowded breakfast table and make my way to – to an indiscretion in public view!’

‘Especially before you’ve eaten anything,’ said Bertram smiling.

‘You’re incorrigible!’

We made our way back into the house once again in reasonable accord. ‘I suggest we go to our rooms until summoned,’ I said. ‘Richard isn’t going anywhere today. He’s already drunk and it will take time to pack up Richenda’s belongings.’

‘But where are you –we – going?’ asked Bertram.

‘I have no idea. How is White Orchards?’

‘Habitable,’ said Bertram unencouragingly. ‘Bit lacking in comfort at present.’

‘It may have to do,’ I said.

Bertram wandered away looking worried. I began to worry that habitable might not include a roof. However, my worries were set aside during a rather remarkable dinner. Luncheon having been sent up to our rooms on a tray and consisting of no more than a sandwich and a pot of tea, I was surprised to be told by a maid that we would be dressing for dinner that night.

I found something suitably dark and discreet – not difficult in a companion’s wardrobe – and made my way down as soon as the dinner gong sounded. I found Bertram, Richard, Muller and a very veiled Richenda already having sherry in the library. ‘Heavens,’ I said to her, ‘I didn’t realise you were coming down. I would have come to help.’

Richenda waved my concerns aside. ‘No, Hans and I felt it was important to tell you all our announcement as soon as possible. This has been such a sad day that we both felt it was appropriate to do something to lighten the darkness.’

Which I realised was a quaint way of trying to explain why they were not reacting to the rules of mourning as expected. Both of them wanted to secure their futures no matter how it looked.

‘What announcement,’ said Richard baffled.

‘Your sister has done the honour of accepting my hand in marriage,’ said Muller.

‘She what!’ roared Richard. I wondered if he had become a little deaf since I had last seen him. He was certainly roaring a lot.

‘Congratulations,’ said Bertram. ‘I hope you will both be very happy.’

‘Dammit! I’m the head of the family and I forbid it!’

‘I’m of age, Richard. Or had you forgotten?’

‘There’s one other little matter we thought we should draw to the family’s attention,’ said Muller and he gave an embarrassed cough. ‘Richenda and I thought …’

‘That I should make a will,’ said the lady in question. ‘Everything that has happened recently has brought the whole issue of mortality to my mind.’ She gave Richard a hard look. ‘Hans arranged for a lawyer to come to me today, so it’s been done correctly. When I am married should anything happen to me after I have married my money and shares go to Muller without reservation. However, should I die before I marry I have bequeathed all my money and shares to the home I set up for fallen women.’

There was a stunned silence. Then Bertram raised his glass and said, ‘Hear, Hear!’

I joined in though I felt Richenda had been incautious. I guessed it was her way of showing Muller she trusted him completely. I could only hope she was right.

When we had all drunk their health, Richenda spoke again, ‘I have one more matter to announce. Obviously I cannot stay here while I prepare for my marriage. Therefore I will be returning, as is my right, to Stapleford Hall. Euphemia will accompany me, as I hope will you, Bertram.’ She bestowed a loving smile on her stepbrother and a less sweet one on her twin.

‘Now that is all cleared up,’ said Muller, ‘can I suggest we go in to dine. I, for one, have found this an exceedingly long day.’

Bertram took my arm and Muller took Richenda’s. Richard stayed were he was, open-mouthed, clearly floored, and bemused by what had just happened. I knew his silence would not last for long. There would doubtless be shouting over the soup, tantrums over the fish and melees over the entree, but the more I thought about what Richenda had done the better I thought of her plan. Richard would gain nothing by harming her. Instead he could lose all hope of ever winning back those shares. His best option now, as Barker would no doubt point out to him, would be to try and sweet talk his way back into Richenda’s good books. He would doubtless try to talk her out of the marriage and I was as sure he would not succeed. Richenda and Muller both had a look of contentment on their faces. They had accomplished what they had both set out to do. All unpleasantness would be buried along with those who had died today. All in all the future at the Muller estate looked bright.

The following months at Stapleford Hall would doubtless be unpleasant, but I consoled myself that I would at least see Merry again. I tried not to think of whether Rory would have returned to his post as butler. He had made it clear we no longer had a future together.

But so far my life had taken so many twists and turns I knew it was foolish to think anything was set in stone.

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A DEATH IN THE PAVILION

A Euphemia Martins Mystery

CAROLINE DUNFORD

Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2014

ISBN 9781783755394

Copyright © Caroline Dunford 2013

The right of Caroline Dunford to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, The Old School, Upper High St, Bedlinog, Mid Glamorgan, CF46 6RY