A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  I followed the direction of his finger. This section of the maze was in deep shade and due to its placement near the woods, would only have sun for the hour or two surrounding midday. As a result, the ground was damp, and while it was not muddy, I could see a light impression of my steps and George’s, but the spot in question held a deeper impression of someone who had stood, possibly shuffling his feet, facing the wall of the maze.

  As I moved my gaze up the length of the shrubbery wall, I saw something even more surprising. Someone had thinned this side of the yew hedge with sheers or perhaps a knife. It wasn’t exactly a hole, but the branches had been cut and stuffed back in elsewhere along the hedge. A few littered the ground.

  George waved a hand toward the thin spot. “Take a look,” he said.

  I had to go up on my toes to peer through the opening, but once I did, I had a side view of the targets through the remaining foliage. “Whoever stood here, had a clear shot at Charles.”

  “With a pistol perhaps, but the shrubbery is still too dense for a smooth release with a bow and arrow. It could be done, but even this thinned shrubbery would interfere as the arrow passed through, changing its direction somewhat.”

  I stepped back from the hedge, both confused and horrified. “Are you saying whoever did this was not necessarily aiming for Charles’s backside?”

  “Shooting through this?” He grazed his hand along the trimmed yews. “It would require a few practice shots to determine just how the arrow would fly. If the culprit was shooting from here, it would be difficult to know exactly what he was aiming for.”

  “You, Leo, and Charles were all standing in front of those targets. Who would want to injure any of you?”

  “That’s what I’d hoped to find out when I ran in here, but I wasn’t able to catch anyone in the act.”

  “With this view, whoever it was must have seen you coming.”

  “Understood, but how did he get out? I know I spent too much time with Charles before coming after the scoundrel, but there is only one entrance and exit to this maze, and we’d have seen someone come out.”

  “I don’t agree. I never noticed Clara Kendrick or Ernest Treadwell enter the maze, but I found both of them wandering around in here while looking for you. You were by the targets tending to Charles. With everyone crowding around, you couldn’t have had a clear view of the entrance.”

  George tipped his head toward me as if unsure he’d heard correctly. “Treadwell and Miss Kendrick were in here? What were they doing?”

  “They weren’t together, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t ask either of them why they were here, but I suspect Treadwell became tired of watching the other matches and decided to wander through the maze.” I shrugged. “Clara likely noticed him and took the opportunity to follow. She’s a bit of a flirt.”

  George leaned back against the yew barrier and crossed his arms over his chest. “Blast, that makes three people I didn’t see coming in here.”

  “Who else?”

  “Percy Bradmore was searching for the exit when I ran in. Claimed he was wandering about and heard all the hubbub. Asked what had happened.”

  “Bradmore? Heavens, half our party were in here at the time. Did he see anyone else?”

  “No, though he offered to help me look, I sent him on his way. I should have just hacked my way through these hedges.”

  I raised my brows. “How? Do you keep a trusty machete in your boot? Besides, someone in here was shooting arrows at you. I’m glad you didn’t attempt it.”

  We were quiet for a moment, both wondering just what had happened. Someone had released an arrow at the trio of gentlemen. Whoever it was had been standing right here. The cuts in the branches that hollowed out the space were fresh. But there was no bow and no culprit. Three people had been in the maze at the time and claimed they saw nothing. Any, or all of them, could be lying.

  “I can’t imagine Bradmore, Treadwell, or Miss Kendrick cutting back this shrubbery, but a worker from the estate might have done so. Is it possible nothing more sinister happened here than a worker watching the competition? The arrow that hit Charles might just have been an errant shot from the other match.”

  George twisted his lips from side to side as he considered the idea. “It’s possible, but while we’re here, indulge me if you will, and help me inspect the exterior walls.”

  “You think the culprit may have cut his way out. An excellent notion.” I took George’s hand. “Lead the way.”

  He gave my fingers a squeeze and drew them into the crook of his arm. “Ah, Frances. You always have a way of making me feel I know what I’m doing—that I’m not just thrashing around in the dark, hoping to stumble upon a clue.”

  We surveyed the area one more time before he led me effortlessly to the exit of the maze. A glance at the vacant archery area told us Charles had somehow been transported to the house and the rest of the guests had found somewhere else to be. We followed the wall of the maze away from the house and toward the stables. It was rather a large structure when seen from the outside.

  “How long has this maze been here?”

  “This one, perhaps fifty years, but there was another here earlier, and I was told it dated back to Elizabeth’s reign.”

  I feigned a gasp. “Does that make the Hartfield title older than Harleigh? Please never mention that to my brother-in-law.”

  “Graham need not worry. Both earldoms were granted around the same generation.” He glanced at me through narrowed eyes. “Does he care so much about those things?”

  I raised my hand, palm up. “He’s very proud of the family name. I suppose I might feel that way too if it were mine.”

  “But it is yours.”

  “But I wasn’t born to it. I am an outsider. At least that’s how the family always treated me.” I glanced up at him with a flirtatious smile. “Have I mentioned how happy I am you will never inherit your family title?”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “So, that is the attraction. Well, you can be no happier than I. Having charge of the estate for a few weeks is one thing, but I was not meant for this kind of life. You know I am too interested in solving puzzles and looking for clues.”

  “Well, you are about to walk right past your clue.” We’d rounded the corner and come along the back side of the maze. I nodded to the hedge where branches had been hacked to pieces, leaving a wide opening between two yews. Stems and needles scattered across the lawn and the fresh cuts indicated this vandalism had only recently taken place.

  George dropped down to his knees to examine the wreckage. “I think this gives more weight to our theory. Our culprit had been inside the maze.”

  * * *

  “It might be a good idea to check with Mr. Winnie,” I said as we made our way back to the manor house. “The steward’s cottage looks out on that side of the maze, and when I ran in to follow you, I met him coming from the cottage to see what the commotion was about.”

  George nodded. “It’s worth asking, I suppose, but I’d like to think if he saw someone hacking away at the maze, he’d have done something about it then and there.”

  “Looking at it that way, I suppose you’re right. It can’t hurt to ask though.”

  We moved on in silence for a moment then George took my hand and drew it to his lips. “This week is turning out to be far from what I’d envisioned when I asked you to join me here.”

  “Then you weren’t expecting your steward to be injured, a footman poisoned, and Cousin Charles to be hit with an arrow in his posterior?” I shook my head in mock wonder. “And I was so certain you’d planned these events.”

  “Actually, what I’d planned were romantic moonlit strolls, time alone with you, and perhaps a chance to plan our wedding.” He squeezed my hand. “It may be selfish of me, but I am still glad to have you here. You’ve been no end of help.”

  “Truly? In what way have I helped?”

  “Your cool head under these circumstances. Look how you managed to bring calm t
o the servants’ hall. And you took note of your surroundings when Evingdon was struck. Your questions keep me from brushing these incidents off as unrelated accidents.”

  Well. That came as a surprise. “I thought you were inclined to see Gibbs’s injury and the footman’s poisoning as accidents.”

  He smiled. “I can’t let you know everything I think.”

  “I beg to differ. You are to have no secrets from me, do you understand? Now kindly explain yourself.”

  He gave my arm a tug, and we continued our walk. “I’m not entirely certain what to think. It’s still quite possible they were accidents, but with you questioning them, and considering what happened to Charles, I’m beginning to see things differently. That arrow was not shot accidentally, so now I must wonder about the nature of the other incidents.”

  “You should have a conversation with Gibbs.”

  “Most certainly. And Woodrow may have some information by now about the ginger beer and if it contained arsenic.”

  I let out my breath in a huff. “Even if it did, that doesn’t mean someone didn’t add it to the bottle after the fact. Someone in the household may have poisoned it, knowing the man would drink it sooner or later.”

  “Gad, Frances, your thought process is positively devious. What’s worse is you could be right. We need more information, I’m afraid.” He gave me a sad smile. “It seems our week of romantic dreaming is not to be. Instead, we’ll be working on another investigation together.”

  While I did love an investigation, I had no idea where to begin with this one. Someone might have deliberately attacked three people on this estate. One was dead. What would happen next?

  As we walked up the front steps to the house, George drew me to a stop. “I’d like to check on Charles first and talk with Dr. Woodrow if he’s here. But after that, we need an opportunity to devise our plan.”

  I looked up into his face. “There’s nothing I love more than plotting with you, George.”

  He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. My eyelids fluttered closed.

  The door opened with a clatter.

  “Frances, there you are. Why are you two lurking about?”

  I suppressed a groan upon hearing the voice. I’d wondered what could happen next and now I knew.

  My mother had arrived.

  Chapter 10

  Bother, I wasn’t expecting Mother until tomorrow. She beckoned us from the doorway, and I was struck anew by her resemblance to Lily, who would look exactly like her in twenty or thirty years—if she were very careful, that is. Thanks to her rigorous beauty regime, and her determination to guard her skin from the sun, my mother would never look twenty years older than either of her daughters. Her hair, more flaxen than Lily’s gold, was complemented by the strands of silver threaded throughout, and her complexion remained free of even the faintest of lines.

  Climbing the remaining steps, I entered the great hall, thankful to have George at my side. I kissed the cheek she presented, inhaling the scent of lilac I’d always associated with her, and turned to greet Hetty and Alonzo.

  “Franny, you are every bit as beautiful as I remembered.” Alonzo wrapped me in a hug, lifted me off my feet, and swung me around before setting me back down.

  “Heavens, Lon. Stop and let me look at you!”

  I took a step back and made a show of looking him up and down. When I’d come to England, Alonzo had been a child of twelve. He’d visited me with Mother as a gangly youth of fourteen. Now, at twenty-two, my little brother had grown into a handsome young man.

  He wore a traveling suit of light wool which showed off his broad shoulders without any sort of padding. Like me, he took after my father in height and hair color, but unlike me, he also had my father’s brown eyes and long, lean face. If anyone had taken note of the trio as they traveled, I’d wager they would have assumed Alonzo was Aunt Hetty’s son.

  “I do believe you’ve grown up, Lon.”

  “He’s grown into the most sought-after man in New York. If I don’t have him married to a Goelet or a Rhinelander, it will only be due to his stubbornness.”

  As Mother stood behind him, Lon took the opportunity to make a face.

  During this exchange, George had been instructing Crocker as to the baggage. Once he’d finished, I drew him forward. “You must meet Mr. Hazelton, our host. Risings is his family home.” I paused as a scowl crossed my mother’s face. It vanished in an instant and I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Actually, you and my mother may well have met, but since that was so many years ago, may I present Mr. Hazelton to you, Mother?” I finished the introduction and presented my brother.

  George took Mother’s hand and nodded a greeting while she studied him through narrowed eyes. “It’s possible we’ve met though I can’t remember the time or place, to be honest.”

  Alonzo stepped forward and offered his hand. “Good to meet you, Hazelton. And good of you to have us all. I understand in addition to a wedding, we are to hunt.” He raised his hand with a flourish and threw back his head. “Tally-ho!”

  He glanced around at our astonished faces and grinned. “I’ve been practicing.”

  “He has been practicing a great deal.” Hetty’s fingers dug into my arm as she muttered the words close to my ear. “At home, at the station, on the train.”

  “The gentlemen are shooting, Lon. This is not a fox hunt,” I said. “There will be no cries of tally-ho.”

  “No?” His shoulders slumped as he turned to George. “We don’t ride through the woods, blowing a horn, and shouting tally-ho?”

  To his credit, George didn’t laugh. “Not while we’re shooting, I’m afraid. You’d surely frighten off the birds. But there’s no general prohibition on the phrase if you choose to use it at other times.”

  Lovely, now I could expect him to be shouting tally-ho throughout the house.

  “I see.” Lon nodded. “I must have misunderstood.”

  “I still don’t understand why we are here,” Mother said. “Why did Lily change the venue for the wedding? Hetty was so mysterious about it all.”

  The way Hetty ground her teeth led me to believe she’d been over this ground more than once. “There is no mystery, Daisy. I explained they wanted a smaller wedding in the country, with just family and close friends. How is that mysterious?”

  Hetty sounded as though she’d reached the end of her tether, understandable after a day and a half of Mother’s complaints and Alonzo’s shouts of tally-ho.

  After shooting a glare at Hetty, Mother, who couldn’t imagine shying away from pomp and circumstance, turned to me in confusion. She waved a hand toward Hetty. “Do you see? Perhaps you can explain it, Frances.”

  George suggested we all remove ourselves to the drawing room, but Hetty begged off. I let them go while I waited behind to thank her for bringing my mother and brother to Risings.

  “Do you need anything before retiring, Aunt Hetty?”

  She gave me a weary smile. “Quiet. That’s all I need right now. Daisy hasn’t stopped talking since she arrived at your house, and right now, all I want is quiet.”

  Crocker stood at attention by the paneled wall. I caught his eye. “Once you’ve escorted my aunt to her room, please have someone bring her a tot of whiskey.”

  “A bottle would be better,” she muttered.

  I gave the butler a nod then joined the others in the drawing room where George poured a glass of brandy for Alonzo. Mother, perched on one of the richly brocaded sofas, was still talking.

  “I truly don’t understand your sister at all, Frances. If she must hold her wedding in the country, why not Harleigh Manor?”

  “I told you, Mother.” Alonzo joined her on the sofa, a crystal snifter in his hand. “Harleigh Manor is for sale.”

  “Well, if it isn’t sold yet, it seems one could still hold a wedding there. At least it’s family.”

  George joined our little group, sitting across the tea table from me. “Shall I order tea for you, Mrs. Price?”

 
; “I could do with a cup, but if Frances will show me to my room, I’ll take it there.” She came to her feet, and the three of us followed suit. “Come, Frances. We’ll leave these men to their brandy.”

  I gave George and my brother a look of desperation which they both pointedly ignored. A private consultation with my mother was a daunting prospect. I may as well confess to being just a bit intimidated by her. She’d both instructed and judged me throughout my youth, and the desire to please her always made me anxious. These little conversations with her rarely ended well, but it had to happen sooner or later.

  “Where is Lily?” she asked as we walked side by side up the broad staircase.

  “I’m sure she’s around somewhere.” Hiding most likely, I thought. As we entered her room, I consulted the clock on the bureau. “We’ll be dining in just a few hours, and we meet in the drawing room at half past seven. I suspect she’s out taking the air, while it’s still fine. I’ll ensure she stops in to see you before then.”

  Mother’s maid, Emma, was in the dressing room unpacking, but she’d already had tea sent up. I seated myself at a small table near the window and poured each of us a cup while Mother removed her hat and smoothed her hair.

  “How was your voyage?” I asked when she joined me at the table.

  She waved a hand. “Fine, I suppose. So few people on board worth socializing with that after a few days, every topic of conversation had been worn thin. I must say if not for the rigors of traveling, I’d spend a great deal more time here with you, my dear. Especially now that Lily is here, too.”

  I silently gave thanks for the long voyage.

  “I would have been here for her come out if I hadn’t such a busy social calendar in New York.” She shook her head regretfully. “And you know I hate to travel without your father.”

  “Why isn’t Father traveling with you? I haven’t seen him since my wedding. He’s never even met his granddaughter.”

  Mother focused on stirring her tea, odd when she’d added nothing to it. “I tried to interest him in the trip, but he claimed the demands of business. It’s as if he fears the market would crash should he leave for a fortnight.”