by Sonia Parin
“We rather like the idea of Mrs. Green being the killer.” Zelma Collins’ remark prompted the other scriptwriters to nod in agreement. “And it ties in with what you already know. Mrs. Green’s false statement to the police definitely makes her a person of interest.”
Yes, but why would Mrs. Green want to kill Mrs. Sheffield? Evie took another turn of the room. “We need to find out everything we can about Mrs. Green’s background.”
Henrietta shifted. “We know she has lived in the village all her life.”
“Do we know that for sure?” Evie asked.
“Yes, I can attest to the fact. Mrs. Green has been making my gowns for years.”
“I suppose we also know she is happily married. So, her reasons for wanting to kill Mrs. Sheffield wouldn’t be based on revenge.”
“Actually… Mrs. Green is not married,” Henrietta offered.
“What do you mean?” Evie laughed. “I’m sorry, I must sound so naïve.” The housekeeper wasn’t married and yet everyone knew her as Mrs. Arnold.
Henrietta helped herself to some tea. “Well, as far as I know, she has never married.”
Zelma Collins cleared her throat. “If I may, I would like to apply your theory about Anna Weston to Mrs. Green. I believe it would work.”
Bernie Peters murmured something in her ear.
“Oh, Bernie has an even better idea. It involves Mr. Sheffield.”
Bernie nodded. “In her youth, before she became Mrs. Green, she might have been keen on Mr. Sheffield only to have him snatched from right under her nose by the woman who became Mrs. Sheffield.”
“I like it.” But how could they prove it? According to Henrietta, Mrs. Sheffield had grown up in the district. And Evie knew Mr. Sheffield had lived nearby. “It’s quite possible they might have met at a young age.”
Henrietta looked slightly lost. “I’m afraid you will have to spell it out for me.”
Evie looked at Zelma and said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, we’re thinking Mrs. Green met Mr. Sheffield many years ago. She had hoped to catch his attention and marry him but someone else beat her to it. And she has lived all these years regretting her missed opportunity. Then Mrs. Sheffield returned and took up residence in the village. The constant reminder of what might have been drove Mrs. Green to the edge of despair and she determined to do something about it.”
Evie pictured the scene. Upon her return to the village, Mrs. Sheffield visited Mrs. Green’s establishment and flaunted her marital status and good fortune. Mrs. Green endured it for as long as she could and then… She snapped.
“And if Mrs. Green gets away with murdering Mrs. Sheffield, will she then try to rekindle her lost love for Mr. Sheffield?” Henrietta asked.
“Yes, I think that’s the idea.”
“But what will you do?” Henrietta asked. “It seems unfair for the woman to have gone to so much trouble only to have her future plans ruined by someone who has figured out her evil plot.”
“You’d like her to have a happy ending?” Evie smiled.
“The police might not reach the same conclusions you have, Evangeline. She still has a chance to get away with murder, make up for lost time and still continue to make our gowns.”
Evie’s eyes brightened with amusement. “Are you saying I should keep this information to myself?”
“Well, it is only conjecture on your part.”
Evie spent the next ten minutes assuring Henrietta they had only been playing around with a plot idea for the play.
Or had they?
Chapter Twenty-One
Evie’s head throbbed with too many theories and not enough explanations or facts.
She barely spared a glance at her surroundings as she made her way to her boudoir where she found Caro already preparing her bath.
“Where were you?” Evie asked. “You missed hearing all my theories as well as some new ones from the scriptwriters.”
Caro folded a towel and set it down beside the bathtub. “Millicent was in a dreadful state, milady.”
“Oh, what’s happened to her? Is she ill?” Evie remembered Millicent had visited Anna Weston. Had she eaten some mad honey? No. She’d said she hadn’t. “Did you call the doctor?”
“She’s fine. Well, not exactly.” Caro’s shoulders lifted into a shrug. “It took me a while to get her to make sense. Finally, she admitted to being in love.”
Evie visibly relaxed. “That’s nothing new with Millicent. She’s always falling for someone or other.”
“This time it’s different.”
“How so?”
“She talked at great length about seeing someone every day and then suddenly, seeing them in a different light. Almost as if a veil had been lifted. At first, I thought it might be one of her infatuations but then she refused to eat anything for afternoon tea, which is unusual because Mrs. Horace baked her favorite lemon cake. I am afraid this is quite serious. Millicent never says no to lemon cake.”
“Did she mention a name?” Evie asked even as a name popped into her head. No, no, no. Not Edgar, please, not Edgar. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she had once heard him describe Millicent as flighty.
Caro tested the water in the tub. “She made me guess and that took some time because I must admit I haven’t been that observant and my mind has been elsewhere, rehearsing my lines for the play. So, I worked my way from one footman to the next.”
“And?”
“And then I mentioned a few men from the village. She has been spending quite some time there so I thought she might have met someone new there.”
Evie rubbed her temples. “Please tell me it’s not Edgar.”
Caro fell silent.
Evie shook her head. “Our girl cannot be infatuated with Edgar.”
“I’m afraid it’s worse than that, milady. She claims to be in love with him. She sounded convinced but I am prepared to wait until tomorrow. I’m thinking a good night’s rest will do her a world of good. If not, I shall have to knock some sense into her.”
“I hope a good night’s rest will suffice,” Evie murmured. “I’m not sure I could deal with a broken-hearted Millicent. Is there some way for you to find out if Edgar shares the sentiment?” She didn’t wait for Caro to answer. “Do they even have anything in common? I would like to be open to the possibility but I’m having trouble picturing them together.”
“It could be a case of opposites attracting,” Caro offered. “Should we try to intervene or should we leave them to sort it out by themselves?”
Evie answered without hesitation. “No. We shouldn’t interfere.”
“You want to let nature take its course?” Caro sounded shocked. “But, anything could happen. What if something goes wrong? Their feelings are at stake. Not to mention our sanity.”
“If something does go wrong,” Evie said, “we will be there to support them.” Evie wished she could find out how Edgar really felt about Millicent.
“Do you think we should try to throw them together as in… plan some sort of outing?” Caro asked.
“That sounds like a good idea but I would prefer to play it safe. Let them sort it out.”
“So, you don’t object.”
“Why would I?”
Caro’s eyebrows and voice hitched up in surprise. “Edgar is your butler.”
“He’s not my possession. The man is free to do as he pleases with his life.”
Caro grinned. “So long as he doesn’t look for another job.”
“That’s… That’s different.”
“Of course it is, milady. But what if Millicent’s attention drives him away? Will you intervene then?”
Evie took a hard swallow. “They are both mature people. Well, most of the time. I think we can trust them to behave accordingly and, if things don’t work out between them, then I’m sure they’ll put it all behind them and… Oh, heavens. What if this is what drives Edgar away? And… And Millicent. What if it doesn’t work out and she is so heartbroken she decides to move o
n? I don’t want to lose either one of them.”
Evie’s legs crumbled from right under her and she sank into a chair. Suddenly, worrying about her granny’s visit paled in comparison to what she would be forced to face if Edgar and Millicent left her.
She gave a firm nod. “Did I tell you about the theories you missed out on hearing? I think I would prefer to talk about Mrs. Sheffield’s murder.”
“Oh, so she was murdered.”
Heavens. They still didn’t know for sure.
“The more I think about it, the more I wonder about Mrs. Green,” Tom remarked as he led Evie through to the dining room. “Despite the grievances we know Anna Weston harbored for Mrs. Sheffield because she failed to introduce her to a suitable man, Anna Weston put on quite a show when she interrupted our lunch. Can we really trust her? There might be something dreadfully wrong with her. She’s almost too obvious to be the killer.”
Evie agreed.
Tom continued, “Mrs. Green made the mistake of contradicting the dowager’s account. I wonder what she would say if we asked her to clarify what happened between Henrietta and Mrs. Sheffield?”
“We? Isn’t this the part where you convince me to share the information with the detective and let him take care of it?”
“Yes, but I am contributing to what I hope will be a lively discussion. In the drawing room, I can fade into the background and avoid attention from the scriptwriters. It’s a different story at the dinner table. So, I’m trying to get a head start. Besides, everyone seemed intent on pursuing your theories. I doubt they will wish to discuss anything else during dinner.”
Again, Evie had to agree. The cocktail she had enjoyed just now had dulled her wits enough to prepare her for the next round of discussions. With any luck, she might be able to sit back and tune out.
The dinner table looked resplendent with an elaborate centerpiece arrangement and delicate spring blooms. Looking around the table, Evie only now noticed Tom was the only man joining them. Edgar had chosen to resume his duties and stood back to supervise the footmen. Evie almost wished the detective would barge in unannounced. Then she would be forced to invite him to dinner…
Evie looked across the table and smiled at Caro. She had asked her maid to join them thinking it would spare her the need to recount the evening’s conversation.
Convincing Caro to accept an evening dress Evie hadn’t worn since the previous season had taken some doing. In the end Caro had relented, laughing as she’d admitted she had felt compelled to put up a token resistance.
“Lady Carolina Thwaites looks resplendent,” Tom mused.
Henrietta leaned in and said, “I was about to remark on her dress. I must say, it does look well on her.”
Evie didn’t know what to make of the remark. She knew Henrietta enjoyed baiting her, but she never employed malice. She turned toward Henrietta only to notice the dowager had changed her hair. If she mentioned it now, she would reveal the fact she hadn’t noticed it before…
“Did you bring your maid with you?” Evie asked.
Henrietta smiled. “No, but your young Millicent has been quite helpful. I must say, she is very chatty. When she stopped talking, I looked up and realized she had completely changed my hair. It almost looks quite modern. Don’t you agree?”
“Did she cut it?”
“No, she said it was all about styling. Did you know she is in love?”
“Heavens, what did she say?”
Henrietta laughed. “I’m really not sure. She did go on quite a bit. She said something about seeing a man in a new light. So, what do you think of my new style?”
“It’s quite fetching and it suits you.” Millicent had somehow managed to give the dowager a modern bob.
Glancing across the table, Evie noticed Phillipa looking surprised by something Zelma said.
“I wonder what that’s about,” Tom murmured.
Evie drew in a fortifying breath. “I believe we are about to find out.”
“Everyone, Zelma has just come up with a most entertaining theory,” Phillipa announced.
The young scriptwriter didn’t need any encouragement. “We have been thinking about the new vicar. We’d spoken about making him a possible suspect by linking him to Mrs. Sheffield. Since they had both lived in London, we have decided the vicar must have had an affair with someone who now also lives in the village and that’s why he has moved here.”
“I must say,” Henrietta whispered, “that sounds rather dull. You should help her out, Evangeline.”
Zelma looked around the table and waited for someone to respond to her idea.
“This feels awkward,” Tom whispered.
“Will you both please hush, she’ll hear you,” Evie whispered back.
Henrietta cleared her throat. “Do you have someone in mind for the vicar’s love interest, Zelma?”
“No, I was rather hoping Lady Woodridge would be able to suggest someone.”
Evie could think of two people who had recently arrived in the village. Mrs. Sheffield’s sister and sister in law. They had been visiting for a number of weeks, but they resided elsewhere. If they had both lived in London, then it seemed possible for either one to have met the vicar. Then, she remembered Abigail…
Evie hoped she didn’t live to regret making a suggestion. “I propose adding a new character based on Mrs. Sheffield’s sister. She has never married because Mrs. Sheffield has objected to all her admirers. Determined to find some happiness, she has secretly been engaged to the vicar. When Mrs. Sheffield found out, she threatened to expose the vicar for some sort of scandalous wrongdoing. How am I doing so far? ”
Zelma’s lips parted. She looked around her. “Thank you, my lady. I knew our visit to Halton House would pay dividends. I hope you don’t mind… I need a pen and paper.”
“Perhaps you have missed your calling,” Tom whispered.
Evie fell silent. She thought she had plucked the idea from out of nowhere. In reality, she couldn’t stop thinking about Charlotte Davis.
Had the woman misled them by pretending to be in deep mourning? Did she have it in her to kill her sister? What would it take to drive someone into committing such a desperate act? Years of biting remarks and disapproval? False promises?
Evie’s brief encounter with Charlotte Davis hadn’t been enough to form an opinion about the woman’s character but she’d seen enough to think of her as considerate and yet… she had been critical of her nieces for not hurrying to be by their father’s side.
“Is there something wrong with your Salmon Mousse?” Henrietta asked.
“My apologies. I lost myself in introspection.”
“I’m surprised you find the time. I must say, life will never be the same after this. Despite the circumstances, I have enjoyed coming to stay at Halton House. The last couple of days have been almost invigorating. You should plan a house party, Evangeline.”
“You seem to forget my grandmother is about to descend upon us. I’m sure she will liven things up for us.”
A footman strode up to Zelma and handed her some paper and a pen.
“My apologies, my lady. I really can’t wait until we retire to the drawing room to jot down the ideas you were so kind to provide.”
“It’s quite all right. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to repeat them, so you should write them down while they are still fresh in your mind.”
The footman took his place by Edgar’s side and whispered something.
Evie saw Edgar’s eyebrows curve upward. She set her fork down and sighed. “Edgar, has something happened?” And, if it had, she wondered if this would be the appropriate time to share the news. Evie felt torn between propriety and curiosity.
“As a matter of fact, yes, my lady. News has just reached the house courtesy of one of the footmen who just returned from the village. Mrs. Green’s store has been broken into.”
“Oh, heavens,” Henrietta exclaimed. “It seems we are caught in a tempestuous upheaval. However, when all is said a
nd done, I still maintain I will miss the excitement.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evie wanted to close her eyes and picture a moment of peace and quiet. A time when she had been unburdened by other people’s problems. Surely, she had felt carefree only a day or two before. She found herself staring at Edgar and he stared right back at her. When Evie tilted her head, he mirrored the motion.
She supposed he was waiting for a response or some sort of prompt from her.
“Does the footman have any other detailed information? Did he see the local constable on the scene? Were there local villagers congregated outside Mrs. Green’s store?”
“No, my lady. He heard the news at the pub from someone who saw the police arrive.”
“And how do we know it was a break-in?” And not another murder, she silently wondered.
“I believe the person relaying the information is related to the constable. You might say, he had inside information.”
“This is going to be a long night,” Tom murmured.
“Is there any way to confirm this really happened?” Phillipa asked. “Not that it matters, we’ll find a way to work it into the play and that should keep us entertained until we learn more.”
Zelma scribbled away, her meal all but forgotten. The others appeared to be waiting for someone to decide what to do. When, in fact, there was nothing for them to do, no action to take.
“Evangeline, I think they are all expecting you to make a statement.”
Evie took a leisurely sip of her wine. As the hostess, her job was merely to ensure everyone felt comfortable and enjoyed themselves. She pondered the idea for a moment and accepted the fact her guests were sitting on the edge of their seats waiting for her to do or say something. “Mrs. Green’s store has been closed since the incident. Perhaps… some hooligans decided to take advantage of the situation. I suppose we will have to wait until morning to hear more news.” She couldn’t send Millicent into the village. Evie turned to Tom and, lowering her voice, said, “I would welcome some input from you.”
