by Sonia Parin
“And who is this?” Henrietta asked.
He introduced himself. “Detective Inspector Jon Chambers, Lady Woodridge. My apologies for imposing on you. I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time…”
“A detective?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And you wish to speak with me?”
“We are right in the middle of luncheon,” Evie interjected.
Henrietta placed her hand on Evie’s. “Evangeline, the detective clearly has some pressing need to speak with me. I think we should do our best to accommodate him. Would you mind terribly if we make use of one of your drawing rooms?”
“If you wish, but I would like to be present,” Evie said.
The dowager patted her hand. “And I will appreciate your moral support.”
Evie couldn’t be entirely sure, but she suspected the dowager had just assumed an air of abject resignation.
Tom didn’t bother asking for permission. He simply followed them.
They moved away from the French doors, leaving the others to speculate and, quite possibly, use what they had just witnessed to write the next scene in the play.
Instead of entering the house by the next set of doors, which would have led them directly to the morning drawing room, Evie guided the group toward the main entrance.
She needed the extra time to organize her thoughts and placate her obvious misgivings. She did not care for the intrusion, even if she understood the police had a job to do. The fact Henrietta had been singled out to answer questions annoyed Evie. She simply could not see how the dowager could assist the detective.
A footman stood at attention by the front door. Evie had no doubt Edgar had acted with swift promptness, directing someone to stand there.
“Right this way,” Evie gestured and walked on ahead to the drawing room. Half way there, she changed her mind. “Perhaps we would be more comfortable in the library.” Although, her intention was not to make the detective more comfortable. On the contrary. For the first time since becoming the Countess of Woodridge, Evie wanted to flaunt her good standing in society and impress the detective with the grandiosity of the house.
They crossed the entrance hall with its marble checkerboard floor, high ceiling, carved columns and grand staircase leading up to the balcony. The portraits of all the Woodridge ancestors gazed down at them from their prominent places, their expressions varying from austere to… downright humorous.
The second Earl’s cheerful disposition had been remarked upon many times, with stories handed down from generation to generation about his mischievous nature.
Wishing to impress the detective with the powerful lineage, Evie guided him away from the second Earl.
She saw a footman rush to the door to take his place. He stood with his shoulders pushed back, his spine straightened, his chin lifted and his mouth set into a grim line.
Definitely Edgar’s doing, she thought. If given enough time, she had no doubt Edgar would have directed the footmen to dress in full livery. Her precious butler had read the situation and had acted with razor sharp efficiency.
At Evie’s invitation, Henrietta preceded everyone into the library.
When Henrietta settled down on a high-backed chair, Evie invited the detective to sit on the sofa opposite while she stood by the fireplace next to Henrietta’s chair, presenting a united front, Evie thought.
Tom bypassed the sofa and went to stand by the large stone fireplace.
Henrietta cleared her throat. “You may begin your interrogation.”
The detective gave her a brisk smile. “Begging your pardon, my lady. I am not here to subject you to a hard line of questioning. I merely wish to get some facts straightened out.” He drew out a notebook and flipped through the pages. “One of the constables spoke with you earlier.”
“That is correct,” Henrietta said.
“You claimed to have been involved in an altercation.”
Henrietta nodded.
“Verbal or physical?”
Evie took a step forward. “Detective, you are addressing the Dowager Countess of Woodridge.”
“With all due respect, my lady, we could be doing this down at the police station.”
“What possible reason could you have to pursue such a line of questioning?” Evie demanded.
“According to an eyewitness, Lady Woodridge used her parasol to attack Mrs. Sheffield.”
“Nonsense,” Evie declared.
Henrietta employed her most commanding tone to say, “If I may be permitted to speak, I used my parasol to ward off an attack. In other words, I defended myself. Your so-called witness appears to be suffering from confusion. I don’t particularly blame her. The entire episode transpired during a few seconds.”
“I don’t suppose you would care to offer a demonstration…”
Henrietta stood up. “Very well. I shall need a parasol.”
Evie gave her a worried look.
“The man wants a demonstration, Evangeline, so I shall give him one,” Henrietta insisted. “I see no harm in it.”
None whatsoever, Evie thought, meeting with resistance as she tried to stifle her rising concerns. What if the dowager proved to be so skillful with… the parasol, the detective decided she could be responsible for whatever had happened to Mrs. Sheffield?
Evie walked over to the door and instructed the footman to find a parasol.
“Bring two,” Henrietta called out. Looking at the detective, she added, “We should do this properly.”
Evie returned, carrying the proposed weapons. Henrietta took one and, after a moment’s hesitation, exchanged it for the other one.
“That shade doesn’t quite match my gown.” Taking a step back, she slashed the air with her parasol.
Evie half expected her to say en garde! “What would you like me to do?” she asked in a small voice.
“Swing your parasol with the intention of hitting me,” Henrietta said and glanced over at the detective. “I am trying my best to re-create the scene for you.”
The moment Evie swung her parasol at Henrietta, the dowager lifted her parasol and, sure enough, she managed to intercept Evie’s blow.
Henrietta stepped back and explained, “Surprised by my defensive move, Mrs. Sheffield gasped and then shrieked. That’s when Mrs. Green tried to intervene and she walked straight into Mrs. Sheffield’s fist. As a consequence, Mrs. Sheffield then collapsed onto a chair.”
“Did anyone else witness the altercation?” the detective asked.
“No, there were only the three of us present. At least, that I know of.”
Evie set her parasol down and wondered why Mrs. Green had given a different account of the event. Assuming she had been the eyewitness. Had someone else been present? Perhaps one of the seamstresses or Mrs. Green’s new dressmaker. They might have been hovering nearby…
“Detective,” Evie said, “I believe we are entitled to know why you are investigating this matter.”
He tapped his pen on his notebook. “Mrs. Sheffield’s family are in a state of shock and in need of answers.”
“Evie?” Henrietta shifted to the edge of her chair. “What is he talking about?”
Oh, heavens…
Evie turned and faced the dowager. “Henrietta. I don’t know how to break it to you, so I am just going to come straight out and say it. Mrs. Sheffield is dead. I believe she died shortly after you left Mrs. Green’s establishment.”
Henrietta blinked. “Oh. Oh… I see.”
“Are you all right?” Evie asked.
“Well, yes… I mean, I’m sure I had nothing to do with her death.”
“Of course, you didn’t. This is nothing but a misunderstanding and you… you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”
Henrietta straightened. “Well, then… Carry on. We must get to the bottom of this.”
Evie turned to the detective. “Our heartfelt condolences go to the family but I fail to see what the dowager has to do with Mrs. Sheffield’
s death. Indeed, how did Mrs. Sheffield die?”
“We are still trying to establish that,” the detective said. “Since Lady Woodridge was one of the few people to have last seen Mrs. Sheffield alive, we’d rather hoped she might be able throw some light on the matter.”
“As I demonstrated, my parasol came into contact with Mrs. Sheffield’s parasol,” Henrietta explained, “I can’t imagine how that would have brought about her demise. If she had a weak constitution, then it might have been more sensible for her to avoid any type of confrontation, but that is neither here nor there. Will you be taking me into custody?”
Instead of answering her, the detective asked, “Had there been a history of friction between you and Mrs. Sheffield?”
“Not until this morning. Although…” Henrietta glanced away.
Evie braced herself. If she spoke up, she might make matters worse. However, if she remained silent, she could be accused of hindering the investigation. “I really don’t see what this might have to do with Mrs. Sheffield’s death,” Evie said and then proceeded to give the detective an abbreviated version of Mrs. Sheffield’s remarks during Mrs. Ellington’s farewell afternoon tea. “She had made a point of questioning the way I express myself.”
Henrietta stood up and stepped forward. “Lady Woodridge came under fire. While she chose to turn a blind eye to it, I decided to put a stop to it.”
The detective studied the dowager for a long moment before saying, “That’s when you confronted Mrs. Sheffield.”
“Detective, are you trying to misinterpret my actions? I defended the honor of this family and I would do it again.”
“Exactly how far would you go?” the detective asked.
“I will not dignify the question with a response.”
Chapter Ten
Where were we…?
Saying he had all the information he needed, the detective thanked them for their time and left.
Henrietta turned to Evie. “Mrs. Sheffield is dead. My goodness.” Her gaze dropped to her hands and then she looked up again. “How long have you known?”
“We heard the sirens just as we arrived at the dower house and then Tom and Caro confirmed it.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t see the point in worrying you. Would you like me to ring for some tea?”
“No, dear. It will take more than tea for me to digest this information. As for the consequences…” Henrietta found the nearest chair and sat down, her parasol still in her hand. “Time will tell.”
Consequences? They had already seen Anna Weston in action. Would others follow?
“Well, despite everything, I found myself rather entertained by the process. Evangeline, what do you think the detective will do with the information we supplied him with? How can Mrs. Sheffield’s family find any satisfaction in my account of the confrontation?”
“I can’t even begin to imagine, Henrietta. All I can say is that they can’t possibly hold you responsible for her death.”
“Do you think the detective will try to trick me into doing something wrong?” Henrietta asked, her voice full of concern. “He might wish to prove I have a combative nature which needs to be brought under control.”
“Henrietta…” Evie couldn’t help smiling. She’d only now discovered the dowager’s ability to defend herself with something other than words. Never in a million years would she have imagined the dowager acting with such swiftness. “You haven’t exactly been flaunting your hidden talent. And I think you proved your point. You only acted in self-defense. If such actions were part of your nature, then we would see them displayed with greater frequency.”
Henrietta didn’t look convinced. “I hear say there is safety in numbers. I’m glad you invited me here to stay. I only hope it does not cast doubt on my behavior. I wouldn’t wish people to think I am in hiding.”
Evie sighed. “I do wish you wouldn’t worry, Henrietta. I’m sure we will soon hear about Mrs. Sheffield suffering from some sort of malaise.”
Henrietta studied her parasol for a moment and then set it aside.
Evie imagined she wanted to put this entire day behind her too.
“Thank you for your support, Evangeline. Now, I wish to join the others to see if they have made any progress with the play. I think it would be best if I kept myself entertained with other thoughts.”
When the dowager left, Evie collapsed into the nearest chair. “What did you make of all that?” she asked Tom.
“I’m more interested to know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“Well, on the one hand, the detective might have been seeking clarification. And, on the other hand, he could have been trying to pin Mrs. Sheffield’s death on someone.” Evie brushed her hand across her brow. Lowering her voice, she said, “I hope that’s the end of it.”
“You seem to have forgotten about Anna Weston.”
Evie sat up. “While I don’t wish to make excuses for her behavior, I assume she’d been overcome with grief. Surely, her accusations cannot be substantiated. What am I saying? Of course they can’t be proven because Henrietta did not kill Mrs. Sheffield.”
“I take it you’ve never seen her before.”
Evie gave a small shrug. “I might have seen her at Sunday service or around the village. I can’t say that I have ever had a conversation with Anna Weston. I’m more likely to remember a person if I engage them in even the briefest chat. I’ll ask Caro. She might know something about her, and if she doesn’t, I’m sure she could find something out.” Unable to stop fidgeting, Evie brushed her fingers across her eyes. “Actually, forget I said that. I’d prefer to put this unpleasant business behind us. Let’s hope that’s the last we see of the detective and Anna Weston. I have enough to keep me occupied, or should that be preoccupied?” Getting up, she added, “Henrietta had the right idea. Perhaps I should go see what the playwrights are up to. We might be in time for some coffee.”
“Then again,” Tom said, “this is your home and you can ask for coffee whenever you want some.”
“True. However, the household staff have their lunch after us. I don’t like to bother them. We might have to wait a while.”
They found everyone had already settled down in the drawing room. When Evie saw Henrietta, she came to a swift halt.
Henrietta stood in the middle of the room where she had commandeered everyone’s attention. “I have an announcement to make. Ah, Evangeline. I’m glad you are here. You can help me answer some questions as I’m sure everyone is bound to be curious about the current state of affairs.”
Evie tried to speak but the words simply wouldn’t take shape so she offered a smile.
“As I was saying,” the dowager continued, “I have been interrogated by the police in relation to Mrs. Sheffield’s death. Despite the detective being satisfied with my responses, I believe I am now the number one suspect.”
Exclamations of surprise swept around the room.
“I should like to make a suggestion some of you might find outrageous.”
Oh, dear. Evie wondered if she should draw the dowager aside before she did or said something that couldn’t be… unsaid or undone.
Henrietta struck up an imperious pose. She could not have commanded more attention if she had stood on a dais, holding a golden scepter and wearing a crown.
“I think we might now take the liberty of changing our fictional victim’s name to Mrs. Sheffield.” Looking at Evie, the dowager added, “I also think the scriptwriters might assist us in solving this mystery.”
Evie took a tentative step forward, her tone beseeching as she said, “There is no mystery, Henrietta.”
“Isn’t there? I beg to differ. Perhaps you failed to notice the detective did not mention a cause of death.” The dowager shuddered. “To think I am probably the last person to have seen Mrs. Sheffield alive.”
“The dowager makes a valid point,” Tom said under his breath.
“Yes,” Evie agreed. So much fo
r putting everything behind them. Evie considered changing the subject. However, she didn’t wish to diminish the dowager’s obvious concerns. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Can you remember what happened when you left Mrs. Green’s establishment?”
Henrietta pressed her hand against her collar. “How could I forget? All those people just standing there like vultures waiting to peck at the remains of my shattered reputation.”
“My apologies, Henrietta. I should have been more specific. I am referring to the moment before you actually exited the store. You said Mrs. Sheffield had collapsed.”
“Oh, yes. Despite the blow she received to her face, Mrs. Green stood by, fanning Mrs. Sheffield. I believe she also called out to someone. Let me think… Abigail.”
Mrs. Green’s new employee.
“When Abigail appeared, Mrs. Green withdrew into the back room. Perhaps that is when she telephoned the police. They arrived soon after and questioned me. Mrs. Sheffield groaned and moaned throughout it all. I believe she might have been trying to overstate her condition. Then, I made my exit. As I did, I restrained myself. In my opinion, I would have been well within my rights to deliver a parting shot, but I felt it would have been in poor taste. Instead, I chose the high ground. In any case, Mrs. Sheffield had still been alive. I know that because I distinctly heard her continuing to moan and groan.”
Evie realized she was still standing by the door. That made her wonder about Abigail. Had the dressmaker’s assistant been standing nearby? Perhaps close enough to have seen everything or at least something of significance? Was she the witness the detective had mentioned?
The fact no one had asked any questions suggested they were all in a state of stunned disbelief. They remained attentive; captivated by Henrietta as if they were seeing her for the first time or, at least, in a different light. Reading their expressions, Evie could see varying states of surprise and perhaps intrigue.
As the hostess, she felt inclined to lighten the mood.
Making a beeline for a chair, Evie tried to change the subject. “I hope you were all able to resume your meal.”
