by Sonia Parin
Murder in the Cards: A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery
An Evie Parker Mystery Book 4
Sonia Parin
Murder in the Cards Copyright © 2019 Sonia Parin
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
About this book
Evie, the Countess of Woodridge, has come under fire from a newcomer to the small village of Halton, but she has no time to dwell on the woman’s petty-minded criticisms. She is hosting three scriptwriters. Unfortunately, they are determined to set their murder mystery at Halton House.
Evie’s life is thrown into turmoil when reality begins to imitate fiction and Henrietta, the Dowager Countess of Woodridge becomes the prime suspect in a villager’s death.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Other books by Sonia Parin
Chapter One
“Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain,
and most fools do.” – Benjamin Franklin
The drawing room
Halton House, Berkshire
Edgar opened the door to the drawing room and stood at attention, looking resplendent in his pristine butler’s black suit and striped gray trousers.
Evie noticed he wore a new pin on his necktie. It had been several days since she had given him the gift; a peace offering he had accepted with good grace. Or so she had thought at the time.
When Edgar cleared his throat, Evie set her teacup down and, giving him her full attention, she wondered if today would be the day when her butler issued an ultimatum and expressed his heartfelt desire to return to town.
Evie knew he had not taken the news she had delivered well. She had finally received a formal letter of resignation from Mr. Crawford who, after much soul-searching, had relinquished his position as the butler at Halton House to pursue a long-held dream of setting up a tearoom with his sister in a nearby village. For the time being, Edgar would have to abandon his desire to return to London and remain at Halton House. But that could change at any moment…
“What is it, Edgar?”
He lifted his chin and announced, “The Most Honorable, the Dowager Countess of Woodridge.”
A formal announcement.
Heavens!
What could this mean?
To Evie’s surprise, Henrietta burst into the drawing room, her pomegranate colored parasol in hand as she came to a stop several feet away and scrutinized the room as if seeing it for the first time.
Evie gave her a bright smile. “Henrietta. What a pleasant surprise.”
“My dear Evangeline, I came here in haste to bring you some news.”
Knowing this could go either way, Evie drew in a breath and braced herself.
Henrietta held her gaze for a few seconds and then stated in a most serious tone, “You have an admirer.”
Evie’s shoulders eased down a notch. “I do?” Feeling instantly relieved, Evie turned her attention to organizing a cup of tea for the dowager.
She had feared something had happened to someone. News about an admirer seemed so inconsequential, she wanted to laugh. However, Henrietta’s stern expression required a modicum of gravity. “Do join me, please.”
The dowager looked about the room again. “I hope I am not interrupting or, heaven forbid, intruding. You appear to be alone, which is rather unusual. Have you been abandoned or were you enjoying a moment of quiet introspection?” The dowager’s gaze fell on the stack of cards sitting on the table.
“Neither… I think. Although… Lately, I have been trying my hand at a few solitary pursuits such as gardening. George Mills prepared a garden plot for me.” Evie gave her a crooked smile. “It’s my own personal parcel of garden and no one else is allowed to work on it.” Evie suspected that had been the gardener’s attempt to keep her away from his precious blooms. “And today I have spent most of the morning in the library reading.” In actual fact, she had been hiding and trying to find something to distract her from her recent encounter with a new member of their little community.
“I see, you are fretting.”
Fretting?
How had the dowager reached that conclusion?
“And playing solitaire?”
Evie gave her a small smile. “How did you guess?”
“Well, you could hardly play whist by yourself. Does this have anything to do with your farewell tea for Mrs. Ellington?” Henrietta asked and settled down at the table beside her.
Evie shifted in her chair. The day before, she had held an afternoon tea to bid the local vicar and his wife adieu as they set off on the exciting new phase of their lives.
Evie handed the dowager a cup of tea. “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. I don’t believe I have any reason to fret.”
Henrietta gave a small nod. “I am sorry I missed it but I had a prior commitment at the local hospital. The school mistress has broken her foot and I have been keeping her company. Did you know she used to be my maid?” Henrietta didn’t wait for Evie to answer. Giving a firm nod, she continued, “She came to work for me as a mere slip of a girl and I immediately recognized her potential to achieve more. Some people believe I meddled in her life but one simply could not let her talents go to waste. Anyhow, I digress…Where was I?” Henrietta looked up at the ceiling as if to gather her thoughts. “Oh, yes… I hear Mrs. Sheffield had a great deal to say to you at yesterday’s afternoon tea. From what I am told, she took you aside and imparted some instructions on how to deliver a speech.”
Evie gave a small shrug. “I’m sure she meant to be helpful.”
“And yet, you do not appear to have taken her advice onboard.” Henrietta feigned surprise. “Didn’t she tell you to inject more details into your delivery? I’m sorry I missed the event. Then again, according to Mrs. Sheffield there really wasn’t much substance to your speech.”
Uncertain as to how she should react, Evie sat back and nibbled on a cucumber sandwich.
“Well?” Henrietta prompted.
Evie recognized Henrietta’s intention to extricate as much from this incident as she could, simply for her own amusement. Had nothing else happened in the village during this past week?
Taking a sip of tea, Evie smiled, “Mrs. Sheffield wanted a blow by blow account of Mrs. Ellington’s history in the village. Meaning, she wished to hear all about her involvement in Mrs. Howard-Smith’s demise.” A shiver coursed along her back. Mrs. Howard-Smith’s death had come as a shock to everyone and continued to linger in Evie’s mind…
Henrietta made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Oh, but that is old news, surely.”
Brightening, Evie agreed. “Precisely. I also found it inappropriate and unnecessary to mention Mrs. Ellington’s momentary lapse in judgement.” Evie poured herself another cup of tea. Looking up, she saw Henrietta leaning forward. Evie took this as another prompt to embellish her tale. “The vicar’s wife did, after all, rebel against us.”
Henrietta gave a nod of satisfaction and sat back to hear the rest.
Evie pushed herself to continue, “In fact, if you recall, at one point, we thought the vicar’s wife might have been the instigator of the rebellion. But, as you said, that is all in the past. It would have been in poor taste to mention any of it at a farewell afternoon tea.” Setting her sandwich down, Evie straightened. “So, who is this new admirer you mentioned?” They could at least have a laugh over that.
Henrietta’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s Mrs. Sheffield, of course. She has decided to take you under her wing.” The edge of Henrietta’s lip quivered with amusement. “She seems to think she knows best. While she admires you a great deal, she believes there is room for improvement.” Setting her cup down, Henrietta folded her hands and invited Evie to deliver the speech again.
Evie floundered. She had no idea how to respond to the news. Sighing, she said, “I mentioned the essentials. Mrs. Ellington has served the parishioners well, excelling in her role as a leader of the community. Honestly, I didn’t wish to bore anyone with too much information. Besides, they were already well acquainted with Mrs. Ellington’s achievements.”
“You’re sounding a tad defensive, my dear.”
Fearing she might not be able to control the next words that came out of her mouth, Evie fell silent.
Henrietta leaned forward and patted her hand. “Yes, I know. Not everyone has the ability to deliver constructive criticism. The Mrs. Sheffields of this world don’t realize there is an art to it and one must always endeavor to disguise words of wisdom or else risk being labeled small-minded and petty… Even spiteful.” Henrietta tilted her head in thought. “Of course, there are times when one must simply be blunt. But that is beside the point. In my opinion, the woman is embittered and resents your position in society.”
Henrietta’s slight lift of her eyebrow delivered a wordless warning. Evie decided to interpret it as a suggestion to keep away from Mrs. Sheffield.
To her surprise, Henrietta nodded. “Yes, you must try to exclude her or risk falling prey to her intrusive nature.”
Heavens! “That sounds rather extreme.”
Henrietta lifted her chin. “Some of us are charged with the task of directing and guiding society. Personally, I feel responsible for safeguarding the name of Woodridge. Mark my word, this woman means to cause havoc in your life.”
Evie knew the dowager’s remark served as a reminder. She too had a responsibility to the name of Woodridge. “What do you think Mrs. Sheffield has planned for me?” Evie had hoped she wouldn’t cross paths with the woman again, something she knew to be impossible because Mrs. Sheffield had already joined several committees.
“Well, according to Betsy who used to work at the vicarage and has now taken a position in Mrs. Sheffield’s household… oh, and by the way, I believe that is how Mrs. Sheffield came to learn about Mrs. Ellington’s rebellious nature. Yes, my dear, she was baiting you. Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes… Mrs. Sheffield is hoping to steer you in the right direction.”
“How so? And… what makes her think I need steering?”
Henrietta tipped her head back slightly and laughed. “My dear, we could all do with some steering at times. You would think she’d focus on her own family. I hear she has two married daughters who reside in London and Mrs. Sheffield is feeling rather bereft now that she has moved to our little village. I had to search my memory to realize she had actually been born here. Now that she has re-established herself in the county, Mrs. Sheffield only gets to see her daughters twice a year.” Henrietta lowered her voice to a murmur. “I suspect that is due to her daughters’ deliberate attempt to avoid her rather than Mrs. Sheffield’s aversion to travel, as she claims. A likely excuse since London is such a short distance away.”
In an effort to lighten the mood, Evie asked, “Is there a Mr. Sheffield?”
“Oh, yes. He keeps himself quite busy and is constantly out and about with his estate manager. No surprise there.” Henrietta leaned forward and examined the cakes on offer. “These look different.”
“They’re cupcakes. Otherwise known as Fairy Cakes. Try one.”
“Fairy Cakes? So, why refer to them as cupcakes?”
Evie gave her the tiniest lift of her eyebrow.
Henrietta smiled. “Oh, I see. Cross the ocean and everything goes topsy-turvy. They do look quite delectable but almost too pretty to eat. What are those little swirls?”
“Buttercream. I grew up enjoying these treats. My granny’s cook is rather fond of Eliza Leslie recipes. She has been using buttercream to adorn cakes for quite some time.” Evie gave a small nod. “I had a devil of a time trying to convince Mrs. Horace to try her hand at baking them. She’s a stickler and prefers to bake the traditional fare.”
“Well, that is a triumph indeed,” Henrietta declared. “My cook has dug her heels in far too often for me to make any demands. I don’t believe I have ever seen anything so dainty. I doubt Mrs. Sheffield would approve. I hear say she has quite a weakness for fruitcake and rather enjoys preserving our customs.” Henrietta took a small bite of the cake and seemed to relish the idea of tasting something that might prove to be forbidden fruit. “Oh, I taste lemon.”
“I’m expecting some guests so I thought we might try something slightly different.” Noticing the dowager’s eyes brightening with interest, Evie added, “They are Phillipa’s friends. They wish to write a play and I have put Halton House at their disposal.”
“My dear, are you sure that’s wise, especially after your recent experience with Phillipa’s friends?”
Evie sighed. “Phillipa has personally vetted them. She promises there will be no shenanigans.”
Henrietta gave an unladylike snort. “Since your return to Halton House, you have certainly made life far more interesting and, I daresay, you do so without even trying. What is your secret?”
Evie stifled a laugh. Before she could answer, the door to the drawing room opened and Tom strode in.
“Ah, Mr. Tom Winchester,” Henrietta exclaimed. “How is life at the Lodge?”
“My lady.” Tom inclined his head and sat down. “I am indebted to both you and Sara, Lady Woodridge, for doing such a splendid job of furnishing the house.”
“Do I get any thanks?” Evie asked. “After all, the furniture came from the attics here at Halton House.”
A month before, Tom had moved from the pub to his new abode on the edge of the estate and, at every encounter, Henrietta had never failed to make inquiries about his happiness with his new circumstances. It made Evie wonder if the dowager wanted to fish for compliments or if she merely wished to make sure Tom continued to be content to live in the area. Little did she know Tom had been hired to shadow Evie’s every step.
Even before she had married, she had already inherited two fortunes, and more were on the way. It seemed enough for her grandmother to want to take precautionary steps.
Tom smiled. “Evie. I must have missed my invitation to afternoon tea. Just as well I needed to see you. I have news from your grandmother.”
Evie could barely hide her surprise. She knew Tom corresponded with her grandmother who had hired him to be her bodyguard but she had assumed the exchanges were limited to factual accounts.
“She writes to tell me she will be traveling to Paris and then surprising you with a visit. I thought you might want to know.”
Her granny… Visiting? And she was the last to know?
“How is Virginia?” Henrietta asked.
“Mrs. Otway-Wells is doing remarkably well and looking forward
to the voyage,” Tom said. “Apparently, there is to be a high stakes card game onboard and she’s rather keen to participate.”
Henrietta tilted her head slightly as she asked, “Do you think she will insist on being addressed as Toodles? I managed to avoid it the last couple of times she visited…”
“Most likely,” Evie said distractedly as she wondered why her granny wished to surprise her.
Henrietta gave a mock shiver. “You would think a woman of a certain age would have outgrown the sobriquet.”
Evie smiled. “Back home, people who acquire nicknames tend to keep them throughout their lives. They see it as a sign of self-assuredness. I have a great-aunt who just turned eighty and is still addressed as Baby.” Evie had received a letter from her granny only a couple of days before and there had been no mention… not even a hint of her intention to visit. “Did she say if she is traveling alone or is my mother coming with her?” Evie asked.
Tom helped himself to a cupcake. “No, she didn’t say, so perhaps that might be another surprise. I’m sure she suspects I’ll pass on the information.”
Evie’s voice hitched. “And why does she wish to make it a surprise?”
Henrietta patted her hand. “Take a deep breath, Evangeline. You don’t see me panicking and I have more reason than you to panic.”
“How so?”
Henrietta chortled. “My dear, I believe you have lived among us long enough to know how we prefer to behave in polite society.”
