Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set

by Barbara Silkstone

  Florence, Lord Melbourne and I sat in the blue drawing room, gathered about a card table. Granny was with Queen Victoria learning the details of Her Majesty’s extensive wardrobe—what gowns and dresses were appropriate for what occasions. It was not an easy task but I was certain that my grandmother was up to it.

  Two hours of uneasy sleep helped me a smidge, although I still felt a bit groggy and my brain refused to participate in His Lordship’s planning. Florence appeared refreshed and her usual sharp-eyed self. Athena had been fed a breakfast of mouse bits and now snuggled in her pocket nest.

  “The Prince was not expected for at least another fortnight,” Lord Melbourne’s voice was tinged with resentment. “His early arrival will only add to the chaos as there will be many strange faces roaming the Palace corridors, we will not know who is friend or foe. It is critical that we discover Lady Julia’s killer and expose the assassination plot—if there is one—by the end of this day.”

  Lord Melbourne appeared weary, not the best countenance for a Prime Minister to meet a potential consort for the Queen. “I know I am asking for a miracle but we have pieces coming together, or at least I thought we did with the discovery of the Chartist cell in the dressmaker’s shop.” He stood and began to pace, punching his right fist into his left palm.

  “To say I am dismayed and confused by Mrs. Ponsonby’s scheme is an understatement,” he said. “That woman has somehow brought death to the Queen’s doorstep and for that she cannot be forgiven.” He shook his head. “Until we understand what part Cecile Ponsonby played in the murder of Lady Julia she will be kept under guard; as will the seamstresses at St. James’s Palace.”

  Florence stood, adjusting her skirts to allow her sleeping owlet a comfortable ride. “I must leave for Mr. Fowler’s surgery. The coroner is a fool whom we cannot trust to perform a proper autopsy. The cause of Mrs. Dupree’s death should help us find the connection between the two murders. Shall we reconvene for tea and sandwiches in this room at noon?”

  How my mentor could think of food after witnessing an autopsy, I could not comprehend. Never in a month of Tuesdays would I have her fortitude, journaling about it was upsetting enough.

  “We have nothing certain to report to the Queen and only suppositions,” His Lordship said. “Until we know if there is an assassination plot, she must be left to prepare for this evening. Her Majesty knows we have rescued the women and she has been informed of her dressmaker’s murder. She is a strong lady and is handling the news better than even I imagined.” He paused studying his hands as if they held the answer. “The arrival of the Prince may be the beginning of a new era for England—or not.”

  Not wishing to become part of the autopsy audience I volunteered my talents in another direction. “I will undertake the position of spy. I am certain Lady Marianne did not tell us all she knew. And with my grandmother acting in Lady Beryl’s stead as Her Majesty’s dresser I have reason to visit the Queen in her quarters. Perhaps I can discern if any of the other ladies-in-waiting are in league with Beryl for someone owns the blotter that matches the murder weapon. The mate to that letter opener is somewhere in the Palace.”

  I was blessed with the perspective of a short person; we see things taller people fail to notice. Being challenged in height, I am usually ignored in gatherings, and so can subversively study the changes in facial expressions and demeanors of those who talk over my head. Unfortunately I am frequently forced to see a serious amount of nose hairs.

  We agreed to reconvene in less than three hours. Forcing my eyes to stay open, I headed in the direction of the ladies-in-waiting thankful that Lady Beryl would be confined to her room for goodness knows what she might throw my way. I thought again about asking for an escort but it was a short jaunt so what could possibly happen? Moon? Wouldn’t that be a lovely diversion?

  After a tentative knock the door opened a tiny crack and two green eyes peeked out at me. If fear had a name it would be Marianne. I took care to appear as nonchalant as one could while slipping through the halls of Buckingham Palace unescorted with a possible assassin wandering around armed with perhaps another letter opener?

  Before Lady Marianne could force the door closed, I slipped inside. “We have to talk.” The lady’s maid nodded unable to meet my eyes. She closed the door and snapped the lock.

  Chapter 31

  Using a trick I had seen Florence employ, in my sternest voice I said, “Lady Marianne, I know what you are holding back—but why protect a killer?” I was bluffing, for as my mentor had so often instructed me, almost everyone is hiding something and it is just a matter of pretending to know what it is before you ask.

  Lady Marianne fell to pieces, tears pooling and then trickling down her cheeks.

  “I don’t know if I know anything more than I told you. I…I am just not certain. Surely you can’t think I am protecting someone who would murder Lady Julia or seek to harm the Queen?”

  “Tell me again what happened the morning Lady Julia was killed. Leave nothing out.” I walked to an armless chair and sat myself down making it clear I would not leave without hearing the entire story. Why had she mentioned harming the Queen? Was that a natural assumption or was she aware of a sinister plot?

  Dabbing at tears with her handkerchief, she perched on a settee, leaned forward and whispered, “We are alone but people do…press their ears against the walls.”

  It was an odd thing to say but I took it that she had reason to be cautious. I nodded and she began to share the events of the day of the murder.

  “Lady Julia rushed into our common parlor seeking Lady Beryl as we are not to approach Her Majesty without her permission—she is the senior Lady. I shared with her that I had not seen Lady Beryl since breakfast. At that, Julia became extremely anxious. She appeared to have come to a decision and ran off. The last thing she said to me was that she was going directly to the Queen. It was her state of distress that caused me to drop my embroidery with the intention of following her as she ran out into the hall.”

  Marianne paused, a shiver seeming to take possession of her body. “I saw Lady Beryl standing just outside this door whispering to someone who stood in that alcove opposite this door. I could not hear what they were saying but…heaven help me…I saw the white handle of the murder blade pass from the unseen person to Lady Beryl!”

  Marianne was so distraught she appeared to dissolve in the folds of her green dress. I stood and put my hand on her shoulder. “Think carefully, did you see anything that would help you identify the person in the shadows? Was it a man or a woman?

  Did you hear their voice?”

  She shook her head. “I have been terrified to admit I saw anything for this room is my home and I can be found here at any time. Most of the guards have keys to our rooms and that very thought terrifies me. Last night I wedged a chair under the door handle on the chance that someone would come to kill me for what little I knew.”

  Again I asked, “Did you hear a voice from the figure in the shadows?”

  She drew her face up in a quivering pout and began to cry, tears saturating her cheeks. “I think—but I’m not certain. There was something so evil about seeing that blade change hands. I don’t know if I imagined a voice or not; I just knew the knife was meant for Lady Julia by the way Lady Beryl accepted it and tucked it in her pocket. No! Wait. I remember now, one of them said Lady Julia’s name.”

  “I will ask you again, did you recognize the voice? Was it a man or a lady?”

  “The voice was gruff—evil, that was what frightened me the most. I thought for certain the person was trying to disguise his voice because he knew I was listening.”

  “Who screamed in order to draw guard away from the Queen’s door?” The woman was trying my patience for she could have run after Lady Beryl and perhaps saved her. But would there then be two dead ladies in waiting?

  “I didn’t hear a scream because when Lady Beryl turned to go, I carefully closed my door and I clicked the lock. Then I hid in my cupboard on
the chance the shadowy person had sensed my presence.”

  Again I persisted. “Think real hard. When this person passed the blade to Lady Beryl, did you see a hand or the corner of a garment, perhaps? Anything that would tell us if it was a man or a woman.”

  She shook her head, and then as the memory emerged from the recesses of her terror-stricken mind, she said, “There was a smell! It was the stench of rotting flowers—but not flowers. It smelled like rust and soil.”

  At last I had two clues that matched, for that very scent emanated from Mrs. Dupree’s body. “Thank you. You have done well, Lady Marianne. Now lock the door behind me and do not answer it until you hear my voice.” I peeped into the hall, saw the way was clear and skittered into the passageway.

  Florence would still be at Mr. Fowler’s surgery critiquing the autopsy of Mrs. Dupree. Where was Lord Melbourne? He had not said, but I would hazard a guess he was somewhere near the Queen. Lord Cumberland lay heavy on my mind and yet I could not say why.

  Two things were required of me now. I must protect Queen Victoria and I must surround myself with people—being alone in the halls of the Palace might make me the next target on the murderer’s list if they had seen me enter Lady Marianne’s chambers.

  It was time to check on the Queen’s new dresser—my Granny. I scurried down the hall towards Her Majesty’s chambers passing a good number of guards. Dare I trust any of them? Arriving at the large mahogany doors, I announced myself to the two Dragoons who were familiar with my face.

  “Miss Throckmorten, you are on the permitted list, but let me announce you to Her Majesty,” said the guard on the left.

  Standing in the hall in the company of the lone Dragoon I wrapped my arms around myself feeling a chill work its way to my heart. What if the unknown lady was with the Queen right now? Who besides my Granny and Baroness Lehzen might be attending her? She would be without her ladies until we discovered a possible plot—which seemed more likely as evening drew nigh.

  The second Dragoon returned and held open the door for me. I stepped into the sitting room only to be greeted by two large black hounds. They couldn’t seem to decide whether I was welcome or perhaps their meal as they snarled and slobbered coming toward me. Murmuring soothing words, I inched beyond them and then tiptoed toward a door that hung slightly a jar. My dear grandmother’s face peered out. She grinned broadly as she motioned me in.

  I slipped into the room, and she slammed the door behind me. “I am not sure whose side those beastly dogs are on!” She was grinning like a little girl as she took my arm and led me to an elevated area half surrounded by mirrors. “Oh Poppy, you cannot believe how exciting this is! I am in heaven!”

  “Miss Throckmorten! It is so good to see you.” I curtsied as the Queen approached.

  “Your grandmother has been a blessing. I don’t know how I could have managed without her. She has an instinct for dressing royalty!”

  At first I assumed Queen Victoria was being kind but she did seem honestly pleased. She performed a graceful little turn while pointing to the two gowns that lay across a lounge and a chair. One gown was a soft peach color, the other was a regal gold with green trim.

  “These are our final choices for this evening.” She nibbled on her lip. “If I appear nervous it is because I am. I only met Prince Albert once before when we were children and did not like him at all. He was much too serious. I hope he has changed. Now I must evaluate him not only as a husband but as my consort since he will stand at my side as I rule our beloved country.” She smiled weakly. “You have no idea how lucky you are dear Miss Poppy! I am both thrilled and terrified.”

  She bent to pick up Dash. “I shan’t make any decisions just yet, although the Privy Council is insisting I wed and soon.” Her eyes were moist as she looked at me.

  “Highness, your letters?” Baroness Lehzen entered the room acknowledging my presence with a nod.

  “I must excuse myself but please do enjoy time with your grandmother. I find Mrs. Throckmorten to have a delightful sense of humor. Her company gives me great comfort. She has even shared a peek at her box of treasured gloves with me! See how she has displayed them? You are blessed to have her for your grandmother. But now I must attend to my letters.”

  She pointed to a bright red box resting on one of the chairs. I recognized the color as the signature packaging from the dress shop. “Mrs. Throckmorten, that corset arrived a few days ago. Mrs. Dupree was such a thoughtful woman. She had just completed the peach-colored dress and thought to surprise me with a lovely piece of lingerie to wear beneath it. Notice the tiny flowers along the bottom? It was made to match the gown. I believe I shall wear it tonight as a tribute to the dear lady. She would have liked that.”

  By a nod of her head she had given her approval. Granny would prepare that dress with all the accessories. My grandmother fairly glowed with the rapture of being given such an important task.

  The Queen eased Dash to the floor, brushed the dog hair from her dark plum dress and then hesitantly asked, “Have we heard from the coroner? Does Miss Nightingale agree with his report as to the cause of the death of Mrs. Dupree?”

  “Miss Nightingale has not returned yet.” I hesitated to tell her what I had discovered from Lady Marianne as Lord Melbourne wished us to keep all but the most important news from her—at least for this evening. Since I did not know the identity of the mystery person who passed the murder weapon to Lady Beryl, there was no reason to add to her worries. Florence and I would sort it all out—I hoped.

  Once Her Majesty left the room, I uncorked Granny. She was like a bottle of bubbly wine ready to fill me with her tales. By way of showing her position as dresser to the Queen, she took the elaborate undergarment from the box and held it against her body. “How would this look on me? I have always wanted something this pretty!”

  It was during that sweet girlish moment in time that Florence burst into the room followed by the two Dragoons both breathing fire. She glanced about the room and gasped at the sight of the red box and the corset in Granny’s hands.

  Chapter 32

  “Drop that corset!” Florence screamed. The sound was loud and frightening.

  Stunned by the sudden command, Granny flipped the corset into the air. It came down, slid across the floor and landed on the boot tip of one of the Dragoons.

  “Don’t touch it!” Florence commanded. She turned on Granny. “Did that dainty came from Mrs. Dupree’s shop?” She motioned toward the red box that rested innocently on the chair.

  “Don’t blame me. I’m new on the job!” Granny said indignant at being caught in the act of posing with the lingerie. She marched toward the guard reaching out to retrieve the corset.

  “Stop where you are and listen to me, Mrs. Throckmorten!” Florence said. It was at that moment that the Queen and Baroness Lehzen entered the room each wearing quizzical looks on their faces, obviously drawn by Florence’s scream.

  Greeted with the odd sight of Miss Nightingale holding Granny at bay, plus two Dragoons one of whom was wearing the corset on the toe of his big black boot, Queen Victoria asked, “What is going on here?”

  Florence performed a quick curtsy before she launched into her explanation. Having bowed earlier I figured my curtsy account was up to date and did not bother to bend. Granny stood near the mirrored platform looking dazed due to the fuss Florence was making over one undergarment. It did seem a bit extreme.

  Lord Melbourne burst into the room followed closely by Lord Cumberland and Duchess Frederica. His Lordship studied the group, seeking out the Queen. “Your Majesty, are you in danger? Lord Cumberland and the Duchess had just greeted me in the gallery when we heard a cry coming from your suite. Again he looked about the room, focusing on the two lumbering Dragoons who had freed their swords from their scabbards prepared to defend their monarch from a corset.

  The sight of Granny trembling and Florence flushed from her mad dash, and …well heaven only knows what expression I was wearing seemed to overwhelm the Pr
ime Minister. He was used to a more political gathering which required his calming manner. He stared at the Queen waiting to hear if it was her cry he heard.

  Before Victoria could respond to his question, Florence cut in, “I have just come from Mrs. Dupree’s autopsy.” The room fell completely silent as nervous glances were exchanged. I imagined that not even the two burly guards had ever attended an autopsy so that gave Florence authority over the assembly. She began to recount what she had learned. “I stood at the coroner’s side as he worked with the alchemist to analyze the poison—yes, it was in fact poison that ended Mrs. Dupree’s life.”

  I thought Florence was acting uncharacteristically by placing herself in the spotlight. She must have been caught up in the drama of the moment for usually she claims no credit for herself or she had some subtle plan in mind.

  “The coroner and I have determined by the markings on Mrs. Dupree’s body, that the instrument used to deliver the poison was a corset—perhaps that very garment. We are faced with the most cowardly of villains, someone who kills unseen while using innocent items of personal clothing.” She held her audience spellbound with her slow, deliberate revelations.

  The first Dragoon eased his boot tip from the corset slipping it on to the carpet and stepping back cautiously. At that instant the two hounds loped into the room and as animals do, they were attracted to the object that held such terror for the humans. They growled menacingly as they circled the corset that commanded a bizarre place in the center of the room.

  “Restrain those dogs!” Florence commanded the Dragoons. “Before they fall victim to that undergarment.”

  The second Dragoon placed his fingers in his mouth and issued a high-pitched whistle. The dogs stopped in mid leap, dropped their bottoms to the floor and stood as still as stone statues with their eyes fixed on the corset as if it was about to attack them.