by Sonia Parin
Then, Phillipa had said they had already carried out extensive research on the subject so they should be able to find an interesting poison.
By the time they had retired to the drawing room for their coffee, the conversation had shifted to motives.
The scriptwriters had been fixated on money. Henrietta had said Mrs. Sheffield had inherited a house and the surrounding land, but that hadn’t yielded any real understanding of Mrs. Sheffield’s circumstances.
“I do wish they’d write about something else.” Evie sunk her trowel into the soil and turned it with vigor.
“Are you, by any chance, trying to avoid your guests?” Tom asked, his tone teasing.
“I’m sure they get on well enough without my assistance.”
“Oh, but you have so much experience and valuable knowledge to share.” Tom brushed his hand across his chin. “And others feel the same way too. Now that I think about it, Evie Parker would be the perfect poisoner. No one would suspect her because no one notices her. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Evie refused to answer.
“She’s as quiet as a mouse… Yes, the more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to see her as a poisoner. And, since the scriptwriters have taken direction from Henrietta, the fictional Mrs. Sheffield has been modeled on the recently deceased Mrs. Sheffield. That gives you some personal experience to tap into.”
Evie’s fingers tightened around the handle until her knuckles showed white. She stabbed the ground with her trowel and muttered, “Are you trying to taunt me into acting out my role?”
“Admit it. You secretly wish you’d poisoned Mrs. Sheffield.”
Evie surged to her feet and waved her garden trowel. “So, I’m supposed to play the role of the family’s charity case and be responsible for murdering someone. I’m not sure my character has it in her to do it.”
“Doesn’t she? She’s been looked down on by her family and everyone she encounters. Needless to say, the fictional Mrs. Sheffield made Evie Parker’s life miserable by always being condescending and belittling her in front of her family.”
Evie gritted her teeth. “She asked for it.”
“There, you see.” Tom gave her a bright smile. “I knew you had it in you. You know what they say about confession being good for the soul.”
Heavens. If she didn’t go along, she’d never get any peace.
Evie spread her arms out and exclaimed, “You’re right. I did poison Mrs. Sheffield. She had it coming.”
A gasp had Evie stilling and Tom swinging around.
“Did you hear that?” Evie asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes.” Tom’s demeanor changed from fun and games to the serious business of looking after Evie. “Stay here and hold on tight to that trowel. Better still, go back inside the house.”
He rounded the corner and strode off in the direction of the main entrance. Counting to five, Evie then followed him. As she rounded the corner, she saw Tom picking up his step and another man hurrying away.
Tom called out to him but the man did not stop.
Evie lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Squinting, she tried to think if she recognized the man trying to beat a hasty retreat.
He had straight sandy hair, cropped short at the back and he wore a black suit.
Even from the back, Evie could see his head appeared to be slightly thrown back. He had his back ramrod straight and his arms slightly raised as if to assist him in pushing himself to walk faster. When he broke his stride, Evie thought he looked about ready to break into a run.
Tom called out to him again, “Wait up.”
Instead of trying to catch up to Tom, Evie slowed down. She tried to think who might dress in black…
Someone in mourning?
Could it be a servant, perhaps dropping off a message?
Or had one of Mrs. Sheffield’s relatives come to express their grievances? Or worse, had they come to make further accusations and seek justice? What if Millicent had been right and Halton House was about to come under siege from aggrieved relatives and villagers?
She looked at him long and hard as another alternative flooded her mind.
No… He wasn’t a mourner.
Evie tried to speak but only managed to produce a wheezing sound, the result of the shocking realization they were chasing after an innocent man.
Pressing her hand to her throat, she finally managed to speak, “Tom. Wait… Stop…” Then, she realized she couldn’t actually call out a warning because it would sound… uncouth. Regardless, they were chasing the vicar away…
Chapter Twelve
“Where there’s tea there’s hope.”
– Arthur Wing Pinero
Evie called out again, “Tom. Stop.”
But Tom didn’t hear her. Or worse, he had heard her but he had chosen to ignore her…
Tom must have used up all his patience. When the vicar showed no sign of stopping or even slowing down, Tom broke into a run, but at the sound of his pounding footsteps, the vicar stumbled and then broke into a run too.
That made Tom more determined. Not that he had to try very hard. Whether or not he put any effort into it, Tom had a terrific physique. Evie had no doubt he could run to the village and back without breaking into a sweat.
When he caught up to the man, he grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back.
Evie pressed her hands against her cheeks. Heavens, she would have to apologize to the vicar even before they had been properly introduced.
Oh, how she wished she was wrong, but reason told her it had to be the vicar.
Scrambling for an acceptable explanation, one she could live with, Evie decided they’d been well within their rights in wanting to speak to the man since he had, strictly speaking, waltzed into private property without an invitation.
The entrance to the estate was nearly half a mile away. So, there must have been some sort of intention on his part and that intention could have been misconstrued by someone who hadn’t known he was a vicar.
Evie tossed the idea around and then she argued that no one in their right mind would try to break into a large, fully staffed house in the middle of the day…
As much as she wanted to believe she could be wrong about the man’s identity, it failed to signify.
At the end of the day, she knew he had overheard her conversation with Tom. The man had most likely come from the village so he had to know about Mrs. Sheffield’s death.
This didn’t look good…
Evie tried to recall her exact words. There had been something about poisoning and maybe killing…
Tom now appeared to be having a heated exchange with the man.
Evie snapped out of her stupor and rushed toward them, all the while chastising herself.
A vicar.
And not just any vicar. The Village of Halton’s new vicar.
The one whose name she couldn’t remember.
“Good morning.” Evie couldn’t think of anything else to say. It took all her willpower just to tear her eyes away from his white collar.
How would she survive this unforgivable faux pas?
The vicar’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson. His light brown eyes jumped from Tom to Evie. He looked about ready to say something but then he firmed his lips and took a deep swallow.
“You’re the new vicar.” Evie injected as much friendliness into her voice as she could manage. The fact she couldn’t remember his name put her in an awkward position. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Instead of quelling his obvious indignation, Evie thought she had made the situation worse. Belatedly, she admitted her mistake and realized she should have started with an apology…
As the vicar straightened his jacket, he huffed out a breath and came close to glowering at Tom. He had clearly taken offense at being manhandled and appeared to be on the verge of protesting the indignity he had suffered.
If she didn’t do something or say something quickly to salvage the situation and make a
mends, she would probably end up doing penance for the rest of her natural life.
Fortunately, the vicar appeared to change his mind. Straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin, he gave Evie an abrupt nod.
“My name is James Chatterlain. I’m the new vicar.”
“My apologies,” Tom said, his tone slightly on the tight side. “You appeared to be trying to run away.”
“Indeed. I… I…”
Evie finally remembered her manners and extended her hand. “Reverend Chatterlain. Welcome to Halton House. I am Lady Woodridge.”
His lips pursed and he hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving another stiff nod. Stretching his hand out, he shook Evie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Woodridge.” He released her hand and took a deep swallow. After a few seconds, he looked down at his hand. Employing the utmost discretion, something Evie didn’t fail to notice, he wiped his hand against his coat.
That’s when Evie realized she had a light dusting of soil covering her fingers…
Succumbing to a feeling of awkwardness, Evie’s mind went completely blank.
There were rules of behavior. Protocols to follow. Heavens, she had been brought up to deal with difficult situations. Yet, she could only fixate on the last few minutes.
Why had he tried to run away? Had he really overheard her?
“I had no idea you would be arriving so soon.” Evie tucked back a stray lock of hair. “I’m sorry you didn’t receive a proper welcome…” She gave him an encouraging nod, but the vicar didn’t help her out with small talk. “Would you care to join us for some tea?” Evie gasped. “Heavens, I must have been in the sun too long. I’ve forgotten my manners. This is Mr. Tom Winchester.”
The vicar gave Tom a cautious smile.
“You must come in for some tea,” she urged.
“I… I didn’t mean to impose on you, my lady. I had merely wished to introduce myself and… also, I wanted to thank you for your generous gift basket. A veritable cornucopia. In fact, it was quite a lavish bounty. I daresay, I will not have to worry about meals for many days to come.”
“Oh, I hope you enjoy jam and marmalade.” And whatever else Mrs. Horace had thought to add to the basket.
His cheeks colored a deep crimson. “As a matter of fact, I do. It was very thoughtful of you, my lady. I will not need to worry about meals for…” He broke off and wrung his hands together as he probably realized he was repeating himself.
In an effort to lighten the mood, Evie laughed. “I think I might have been somewhat presumptuous. I didn’t know if there would be a Mrs. Chatterlain or not.” She gestured toward the front door. “Shall we go in?”
The vicar hesitated.
Thinking he might be about to bolt, Evie glanced at Tom. Somehow, they engaged in a wordless conversation and reached a silent agreement, which required them to work in tandem.
While Evie moved toward the door, Tom herded the vicar along. Not that he had any choice, since they had sandwiched the poor man!
Evie wasted no time calling for refreshments to be brought to the morning drawing room. First impressions were vital and she had failed dismally, so it would now be up to her to reverse the damage.
Glancing at Tom, she saw him tap his nose.
Evie frowned. Was Tom trying to convey a secret message?
She handed the vicar a cup of tea and settled down opposite him. When Tom chose to stand by the window, Evie imagined he would later declare he had merely wanted to avoid causing the man further distress.
The vicar sat on the edge of his seat and glanced around. “This is a lovely room, my lady.”
From the moment he’d set foot inside Halton House, the vicar had shown both interest and appreciation, expressing his delight at just about everything he saw.
“Thank you. I’ve always thought so too. As much as I would like to take credit, it must all go to the Dowager Countess of Woodridge. She’s actually staying with us.”
The vicar’s cup rattled on its saucer.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is the cup too hot to handle?” she asked, her tone full of innocent intent.
“I must say, time certainly does fly.” He looked about him as if searching for a suitable place on which to deposit his teacup.
“Surely, you’re not leaving so soon.” He hadn’t even taken a sip of his tea.
“I’m afraid I have only now remembered I am supposed to meet my new housekeeper,” he said.
The door to the drawing room opened and Henrietta swept in saying, “My goodness, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. It almost feels naughty. Evangeline, I believe the poison will work a treat.” Noticing the vicar, she stopped. “Oh… I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Henrietta, this is our new vicar, the Reverend James Chatterlain.” Recalling the conversation they’d had a couple of days before, Evie wondered if Henrietta would have preferred to seek her own introduction after she’d had the opportunity to determine if it would be a safe acquaintance or not. Although, that would have struck Evie as odd since Henrietta would be seeing the vicar every Sunday.
The dowager gave a noncommittal nod. As she settled down on the sofa, she cleared her throat, but before she could speak, the vicar surged to his feet.
“I really should be getting back.” The vicar made such a hasty exodus out of the drawing room, he almost tripped over his feet as well as his words of gratitude for a wonderful welcome.
When the door closed, Evie and Tom stared at each other, their expressions confused.
Henrietta shifted from side to side, looking first at Tom and then at Evie. “What just happened?”
Evie pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’m not sure, but I believe I now have my work cut out for me.”
Henrietta leaned forward. “You have something on your nose, Evangeline, and on your cheeks.”
“My… nose? My cheeks?” Evie dug inside her pocket and produced a handkerchief.
“I tried to tell you,” Tom said. “It’s a smudge of dirt.”
“You let me sit here all that time… You should have been clearer.”
“My apologies,” Tom offered. “There’s really no excuse… except for the fact that I became captivated by the fellow. He’s an odd creature.”
“Tom, would you care to explain what went on here?” Henrietta asked. “I feel I have somehow missed the joke.”
Tom glanced at Evie and raised his eyebrows slightly.
“It’s all right, Tom. You can tell Henrietta.”
Tom grinned. “With great pleasure.”
As Tom recounted the tale of how the vicar overheard their conversation and then proceeded to make a swift getaway, Evie sat back and thought about the vicar’s reaction when she had mentioned the dowager’s name.
What had that been about?
Chapter Thirteen
News from the village…
Needing to freshen up before lunch, Evie retired to her room. At least, she used that as an excuse. In reality, she had wanted to get away from Henrietta who had insisted she play out her admission of guilt scene.
Not once, but twice.
Henrietta’s eyes had shimmered with laughter. When she had begged for another encore, Evie had feigned tiredness and had excused herself.
She hoped Henrietta wouldn’t bring up the episode during luncheon.
As she entered her room, her eyes went straight to the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Caro usually met her here without Evie having to ring for her, but Evie had broken with her routine by coming upstairs earlier than usual.
Instead of ringing for Caro, she decided to spend the time in quiet introspection. If she happened to fall asleep and missed lunch, so much the better.
Evie walked on through to her private boudoir. As she reclined on the chaise lounge, she wondered if she might be trying to hide from the world in general and, specifically, from her responsibilities. Not to mention… “Chaos.”
How on earth had it found her? She had bee
n doing so well, following a gentle routine, appreciating the small pleasures in life and never once complaining of a dull moment.
Taking a deep breath, she encouraged her mind to empty, but it simply refused to co-operate.
“Milady?”
“Oh, Caro.” Evie sat up.
“My apologies if I interrupted your slumber. Would you like me to come back later?”
“No. No, please stay.” Evie shifted and signaled to a chair. “You’ll never believe the morning I’ve had. It’s as if the Fates have decided to conspire against me,” Evie said and gave Caro an abbreviated version of that morning’s events.
“Oh, dear.” Caro looked over her shoulder. “Perhaps this isn’t a good time…”
“What is it, Caro?”
“Well, Millicent has just returned from the village but you seem to be under a dark cloud…”
Evie actually brightened. “But that is good news. Where is she?”
“Not far.” Caro looked over her shoulder and called out, “It’s safe to come in.”
When Millicent entered the boudoir, Evie deepened her voice to sound like Edgar and asked, “What news do you bring from the village?”
Millicent grinned. “The new vicar has arrived, milady. Then again, you already know that. My apologies, I couldn’t help overhearing your tale.”
“Don’t say anything until I come back.” Caro stepped out of the boudoir. Moments later, she rushed back in carrying a dress for Evie to change into.
“The entire village is talking about the new vicar,” Millicent continued.
Evie plumped up her cushions and sat up properly. “That’s good. It means the focus has been taken off the dowager.”
Millicent grimaced and glanced at Caro who gave her a nod of encouragement. “Not exactly, milady. Everyone is hoping the vicar will be able to exorcise the devil from her ladyship since she must surely be possessed. Otherwise, why would she have killed a perfectly nice lady such as Mrs. Sheffield.”
“Millicent! How could you say that?” Evie exclaimed.
