by V. M. Burns
“Trying?” Mrs. McDuffie snorted. A cough from Thompkins reminded her of her place, and she said, “I beg your pardon.”
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “It’s quite all right. I completely agree. He’s been extremely difficult, and I have to admit that I don’t like the way he treats the children.”
“Ah, you’ve noticed that too?”
“It’s obvious that he objects to them because they’re Jewish.”
“I didn’t want to believe it,” Thompkins said, “but I have to say that my son-in-law, Joseph, did mention that the captain has made some rude and unpleasant remarks to him as well as the children.”
“That’s not acceptable,” Lady Elizabeth said. “I’m afraid I shall have to have a talk with Captain Jessup.”
Thompkins cleared his throat. “Was there something in particular that your ladyship wanted to discuss?”
“Oh dear, yes.” She smiled. “I want to have a small dinner party.”
Mrs. McDuffie took out a small notepad and a pencil she kept in her apron pocket and prepared to take notes.
“Well, to be completely honest,” Lady Elizabeth said, “I hoped that having more people in the house would dilute some of the captain’s personality a bit. I hope that it won’t be too much of an inconvenience to the staff.”
Thompkins and Mrs. McDuffie reassured her they were well prepared for the dinner party.
“It’ll be a small affair with the family, Penelope and Victor, Lady Clara and Detective Inspector Covington.” She paused at how natural it seemed to include Detective Inspector Covington amongst the family, but then she hurried to add, “Of course, Captain Jessup.” She waited while Mrs. McDuffie caught up on the list before adding, “I think Reverend Baker and his wife would be good. I think Mrs. Baker’s father fought in the last war, and maybe she would be able to talk to him. Besides, Captain Jessup could hardly be rude to a minister or his wife.” She thought a moment. “I was going to invite Lady Dallyripple, but sadly, I’m afraid Amelia may share too many of the captain’s views.”
“Gawd,” Mrs. McDuffie said. “I never did care much for that one.”
Thompkins bristled but said nothing, and Lady Elizabeth hurried on with her list. “What about Miss Olivia and Miss Marjorie Wood?”
“Those two spinsters love gossip, but they’re as ’armless as milk toast.” Mrs. McDuffie added the names to her list.
“I think both of them nursed injured soldiers during and after the war. I think they’d be perfect.”
Mrs. McDuffie looked up from her notepad. “Will that be all?”
Thompkins coughed. “If my math is accurate that would be eleven for dinner.”
Mrs. McDuffie quickly counted the names on her list. “You don’t want an odd number for dinner, your ladyship. That’s bad luck.”
Lady Elizabeth paused and thought for a few moments. “William received a note from an old friend . . . Nigel Greyson. They were in the service together. Plus, I think Nigel was good friends with Victor’s uncle, so he should fit in beautifully.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Thompkins said, “Lord Greyson is the son of the rector of Copdock and the grandson of the fifth Lord Walsingham.”
“Your memory is perfect, as always.” Lady Elizabeth smiled at the butler. “Nigel is in London taking care of some family business. William was going to make a trip into town, but I think we’ll invite him to spend a few days here.”
“I’ll get a room prepared and make sure everything is ready for the dinner party,” Mrs. McDuffie said. “When do you want to have the party?”
“I think tonight.” She looked up at the butler. “That is, if you think Mrs. Anderson can manage.”
Thompkins stood straighter. “I assure you we will be ready.”
“Perfect. Please, tell Mrs. Anderson I’ll trust her to come up with the menu, but I’ll come down later to discuss it with her.” She stood. “For now, I’d better get busy. I’ve got quite a few invitations to get into the post.”
Later, Lady Elizabeth tracked down Detective Inspector Covington in a corner of the library in a large-backed chair. Lady Clara sat on the sofa, gazing into the fireplace. “Perfect,” Lady Elizabeth said. “Both of the people I’ve been looking for in one place.”
Lady Clara looked up curiously at her cousin.
Detective Inspector Covington rose and faced Lady Elizabeth. “Your ladyship.”
“First, I do wish you’d call me Elizabeth. It would make things so much easier. Plus, then I could call you Peter and wouldn’t feel the need to keep calling you Detective Inspector Covington.”
The detective inspector flushed slightly and glanced at Lady Clara, who merely shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I had nothing to do with it.” She turned to her cousin. “I’ve been trying to get him to call me Clara since we first met.”
The detective frowned slightly. “Your ladyship is, of course, welcome to call me Peter. In fact, I would prefer it. However, I hope you’ll forgive me if I say that I don’t feel comfortable bypassing the protocol of referring to you in so . . . intimate of terms.”
Lady Clara sighed. “Poppycock.”
“Of course,” Lady Elizabeth said. “Please use whatever makes you the most comfortable. Now, I was hoping I could impose upon you for a favor.”
The detective bowed slightly. “I will be more than happy to assist.”
“As I mentioned, I’ve decided to host a small dinner party tonight.” She handed a stack of envelopes to Lady Clara. “Due to the short notice, the servants are going to have their hands full getting ready, and I’ve still got quite a few errands. I was hoping that I could prevail upon you and Clara for assistance.”
“Of course,” they both said at the same time.
“Wonderful.” Lady Elizabeth handed a list to Lady Clara.
The detective moved closer so he could look over her shoulder. The two asked a few questions, received their last-minute instructions, and then headed off.
Lady Elizabeth watched the two leave and smiled to herself.
The doorbell rang as the clock struck seven. Thompkins escorted not only the reverend and Mrs. Baker into the parlor but also Miss Marjorie and Miss Olivia Wood.
One of the instructions Lady Elizabeth had given her cousin was to make sure when she notified the reverend and Mrs. Baker of the invitation that she managed to casually mention the Wood sisters were also invited. She knew Reverend Baker would offer to drive the women.
Having called Nigel Greyson to invite him, Lady Elizabeth was able to provide the detective inspector with the information about which train Greyson planned to take so they could pick him up from the station. So, when the others arrived, Greyson was already comfortably ensconced and rested from his trip.
Victor and Lady Penelope, along with the Marsh family, Lady Clara, and Detective Inspector Covington, were all present when their guests arrived. Everyone except Captain Jessup was having a pleasant time enjoying cocktails in a jovial atmosphere.
After thirty minutes, Lady Elizabeth was just about to send Thompkins to check on the captain when the door opened and he stood in the doorway.
Like a model, the captain stood for several moments, gazing around the room with a smug look on his face.
Miss Marjorie Wood gasped and stared at Captain Jessup with a shocked expression.
Miss Olivia Wood’s face turned pale, and she looked as though she would faint.
Detective Inspector Covington clasped her arm. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
Miss Olivia rocked on her feet but recovered herself and waved away his concerns. “I’m sorry. I just took a sudden turn, but I’m fine now.”
The detective looked concerned but accepted the woman’s response.
Lady Clara sipped her champagne. “Ah, there you are. I was afraid you’d gotten lost finding your way downstairs.”
The captain said, “I’m touched that you were concerned.”
Lady Elizabeth sat near Lady Clara and heard her mumble, “D
on’t be.”
Captain Jessup strutted into the room and stood with his elbow on the mantle of the fireplace as though he were the lord of the manor.
Lady Elizabeth forced a smile and then rose, taking Captain Jessup by the arm and escorting him over to meet the other guests. “Let me introduce you to our minister. Reverend Baker, may I present Captain Jessup.”
Lady Elizabeth was well versed on proper etiquette, which dictated that individuals of lower rank are presented to the higher-ranking or more prominent person. By her choice to present Captain Jessup to Reverend Baker, she established that Reverend Baker was considered of higher importance than the captain.
Her gesture wasn’t lost on Captain Jessup, who colored slightly but gave a slight bow to the minister.
Lady Elizabeth continued this distinction, as she introduced Captain Jessup to Mrs. Baker, who flushed but stood surprisingly quiet.
When Lady Elizabeth introduced Captain Jessup to Miss Marjorie and Miss Olivia, she was slightly taken aback by the spinsters’ cool response. Although, on closer inspection, both of the women looked pale. She hoped that neither was ill.
Finally, Lady Elizabeth guided the silent and now-seething captain over to Nigel Greyson.
Nigel Greyson was thin and tall with an unusual cowlick and piercing blue eyes. He was also extremely shy. He stood to greet Captain Jessup and extended his hand while barely making eye contact. Eventually, when the introductions were done, Nigel glanced at the captain and tilted his head. “Don’t I know you?”
Captain Jessup smirked. “I feel confident that you don’t. I doubt that we run in the same social circles.” He walked away, picked up a drink from a tray that Thompkins offered, and stood in front of the fireplace with his back to the group.
The captain’s quiet, surly behavior would normally have been a problem. However, Lady Penelope and Lady Clara were determined to make the evening a success and worked hard to engage their guests in conversation, which proved surprisingly difficult. The Wood sisters, who normally relished every opportunity to get out in society and could usually be counted upon to keep up a lively chatter, were uncharacteristically quiet. Mrs. Baker was slightly deaf in her right ear, and as people with hearing problems sometimes do, she tended to speak louder than was necessary; however, she was also very quiet. Lady Clara thrived on the captain’s discomfort and worked to keep conversation flowing. She provided witty jokes, which generated what laughter and merriment existed in the group.
Thompkins announced that dinner was served, and the group wandered into the dining room. Lady Elizabeth glanced at the place card that Lady Penelope had put beside each setting and bit her cheek to keep from laughing. Lady Penelope had placed her uncle, Lord William, at the head of the table, while Nigel Greyson was given the position as guest of honor and placed at the opposite end of the table. As hostess, Lady Elizabeth was placed to the right of Nigel with Reverend Baker, Lady Clara, Victor, and Mrs. Baker completing that side of the table. To the right of Lord William was Lady Penelope, Detective Inspector Covington, Miss Olivia Wood, Captain Jessup, and Miss Marjorie Wood.
By the time Captain Jessup entered the dining room, he had consumed three drinks and was well on his way to becoming drunk. Seated between the Wood sisters, Captain Jessup barely spoke. In fact, surprisingly, neither of the Wood sisters seemed inclined to talk, and the captain sat and seethed while he glared across the table at Lady Clara.
When dinner was over, the group made their way back to the parlor, and Captain Jessup resumed his prior position in front of the fireplace, drink in hand.
Prepared to ignore his rude behavior, Lady Elizabeth sat on the sofa next to Mrs. Baker and the Wood sisters, while Victor, Lady Penelope, Lady Clara, and Detective Inspector Covington joked. Lord William, Nigel Greyson, and Reverend Baker quietly reminisced about the time spent in His Majesty’s service during the Great War, although Nigel kept glancing over at Captain Jessup. In fact, everyone was stealing glances at the ill-behaved man.
Thompkins entered with coffee. He wheeled the cart to Lady Elizabeth and waited to distribute the cups. It was then that Captain Jessup burst into laughter. Everyone stopped talking and turned to gaze at the man who stood alone laughing hysterically. After a few moments, Victor rose and approached the man.
Victor whispered something and attempted to grab Captain Jessup by the arm, but the captain jerked away. “I’m not drunk, and I certainly don’t need your help.”
Victor colored but persisted. “I think maybe you’ve had enough to drink.”
Captain Jessup sneered. “Oh, you do? Well, I don’t. I haven’t had nearly enough to drink. It would take more than a couple of glasses of cheap whiskey.” He glared at Lord William, who bristled at the insult.
“Steady on, man,” Victor said. “You’re a guest in this house and—”
“Awww, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter. I’m a guest.” He waved his drink in the air, and the liquid sloshed onto the floor. “I’m a guest here, but it’s you who’s the guest.”
Victor shook his head. “You’re drunk.”
“You’re a thief.” He leaned forward and glared. “You’ve stolen my birthright, but I’m the Earl of Lochloren.”
Victor stared at the man in stunned silence for several moments. “What are you talking about?”
Captain Jessup laughed. “Your father wasn’t the earl. He was the younger son, not the elder. The title, the house, and the lands all belonged to his older brother, Percival, who was the true heir and Earl of Lochloren.”
Victor frowned. “That’s true, but Percival died in the Crimean War, so the title fell to my father, Nevil.”
Lord William said, “This is hardly the time or the place—”
“Time or the place? This is exactly the time and the place.” Jessup waltzed around the room. “You all sit here like royalty and look down your noses at me. When I . . . the son of Percival Carlston, am the real Earl of Lochloren.”
Victor’s eyes grew large as he stared at his cousin. “What are you talking about? Percival had no children.”
“None that you knew about.” He tossed back the rest of his drink. “Or none that you acknowledged anyway. My mother was a nurse working with Florence Nightingale. She tended to wounded soldiers. She met Lord Percival when he was injured at the Battle of Alma.”
“Uncle Percival got a flesh wound at the Battle of Alma but was patched up and returned to battle. He was killed later in the Battle of Balaclava.”
Captain Jessup sneered. “Exactly, but not before he fathered a child . . . me.”
“You? But I don’t understand. Why didn’t your mother come forward and tell the family? I’m sure my grandfather would have—”
“Would have what? Acknowledged that his son had fathered a child out of wedlock? Do you really think he would have wanted to admit that he had a grandson . . . from the wrong side of the blanket?”
“But, if that’s true,” Lady Penelope said, “then that would mean . . .”
Captain Jessup laughed. “Ah, I see you’re finally starting to catch on. That would mean that I am the Earl of Lochloren, not you.” He pointed at Victor. “That means I own Bidwell Cottage, and you two are mere interlopers. I appreciate the renovations you’re making to my home, but I’ll be claiming ownership, and you two can find someplace else to live. I intend to get everything I deserve.” He slammed his glass down on the mantle and stumbled out of the room, leaving everyone staring after him in shock.
Chapter 9
The bus pulled in front of the hotel.
“We have a very busy day tomorrow,” Clive said. “We will be leaving for the Cotswolds and staying overnight. We’ll spend a morning exploring the racing world of mystery writer Dick Francis. In the morning, we’ll get up close and personal with some of England’s best race horses. At the stable, we’ll witness the strength and discipline of these fine creatures as they go through their morning gallops. In the afternoon, we’ll take a walking tour of Chipping Campd
en, where you’ll be able to link aspects of village life to the world of Miss Marple and D. L. Sayers’s books.” He smiled. “So, be sure and get plenty of rest and be prepared for a vigorous day of fun.”
I heard a groan from the back, which I suspected came from Prudence Habersham.
Rather than going inside the hotel after she got off the bus, Nana Jo waited. I turned to ask what was wrong, but she volunteered the information. “I still owe Prudence Habersham an apology.” I nodded and waited alongside my grandmother.
When Prudence finally got off the bus, she glanced at Nana Jo, lifted her head, and prepared to walk by, but Nana Jo stopped her. “Prudence, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I was rude, and I’m very sorry for what I said earlier.”
Prudence released a breath, and some of the tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you,” she said hesitantly. “I suppose I should have packed walking shoes.”
“Mrs. Habersham, I bought an extra pair of tennis shoes . . . ah, I mean trainers.” I glanced down at her feet. “I think they might fit you.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s really nice, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
I shook my head. “It’s no inconvenience at all. I’ll bring the shoes to your room.”
She thanked me and then gave me her room number.
Lavender gave us a sincere smile, and the two women left. Nana Jo and I followed them, and that’s when I got a whiff of tobacco. A wisp of smoke drifted by, and an orange glow attracted my attention. Leaning against the building and smoking a cigarette was Debra Holt, with Sebastian by her side. We nodded as we passed and entered the hotel. We stopped at the front desk to see if the airline had located our luggage but were disappointed to learn our bags were still MIA.
Nana Jo took a quick bath and then got into bed. She was sound asleep and snoring in record time. I went through my bag and pulled out the new sneakers I had bought at Harrods. For a brief second, I considered switching and giving Prudence the shoes I was wearing rather than the new pair of sneakers that still had the price tag attached but decided against it. Her need was greater than mine. I grabbed my key and cell phone and hurried downstairs. Prudence and her daughter were one floor below us. When I found the right room, I was just about to knock when I noticed the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob. Instead of knocking, I decided to simply leave the shoes outside the door. She’d find them in the morning.
