by Sonia Parin
Evie nearly choked on her tea. Henrietta knew very well Mrs. Ellington had been talking to her.
In order to avoid any further confusion, the Vicar’s wife made a point of looking straight at Henrietta. “In honor of our dearly departed friend, we feel it is our duty to forge ahead with the existing plans.”
“But how can you possibly think of doing so?” Henrietta asked. “Witford Hall will be a house in mourning and, therefore, unavailable to host the Hunt Ball.”
Glancing around the drawing room, Mrs. Ellington said, “We were hoping to appeal to your better nature.”
Henrietta succumbed to a bout of coughing. When she recovered, she said, “You are mistaken if you think you can play that card.”
“The Hunt Ball must proceed as planned with all the funds raised going to the local hospital,” Mrs. Ellington explained. “Are you prepared to be the one to negate those poor souls the opportunity of reaping the benefit of our charity?”
“Mrs. Ellington, would you care for some tea?” Evie offered.
Henrietta now looked dumbfounded. To her credit, she employed her voice of wisdom tone. “You are referring to the hospital set up by the Woodridge family as well as the ball established by us…”
The Vicar’s wife set her cup down, but before she could speak, Mrs. Hallesberry said, “We did not realize you put so much importance on personal gain.”
Henrietta spluttered. “Personal gain?”
“Is it any wonder we felt compelled to go our own way,” Mrs. Hallesberry continued, her voice rising as if lifted by a wave of emotions. “Someone needed to maintain the integrity of the fundraiser…”
Evie surged to her feet. “Mrs. Hallesberry, I believe enough has been said.” Despite her attempt to call for calm, her plea became overshadowed by a torrent of successive accusations from the committee ladies, launched in unison and aimed directly at Henrietta.
It seemed the rebel forces had chosen to bite the hand that fed them.
Chapter Thirteen
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind – William Shakespeare
The drawing room, Halton House
“Nice cake,” Tom said as he settled down at the table.
Evie stood by the window and kept her gaze glued on the undulating hills. She had no idea what the Vicar’s wife could have been thinking, behaving as she had and toward a woman responsible for her husband’s living. Had she always been so antagonistic? Her memory had to be playing tricks on her because Evie could only picture the Vicar’s wife as a sweet, generous, even-tempered and softly spoken woman.
Phillipa laughed. “Tom, I think our hostess is giving you the cold shoulder.”
“I don’t hear her talking to you,” Tom said. “In your place, I’d watch out. I have a room at the pub. You, on the other hand, depend on her goodwill.”
“I’m thinking,” Evie growled softly. “And don’t, for a moment, think your absence escaped my notice.”
“What did we miss?” Tom asked.
“I witnessed the most unpleasant behavior.” Evie shrugged. “I’m not even sure how the kerfuffle started. It’s still all sinking in. I thought I would have to call for the doctor to attend to Henrietta. That should give you an indication of what you missed. She has lived through a war and is made of sterner stuff. I’ve never seen her looking so shocked.” Evie swung to face them. “The committee ladies went on the assault and I can’t help but think they are hiding something. We need to put our thinking caps on.”
“And we need more information,” Phillipa said.
Yes, Evie agreed. Unfortunately, they had very little to go on with. “They, more than anyone, would know what Mrs. Howard-Smith did after attending afternoon tea here. Yet, they are not prepared to divulge the information. Why?”
Phillipa helped herself to some tea. “Because they’re protecting her.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought too, but what could someone of her social standing have to hide?”
“An illicit affair.”
Phillipa and Evie looked at Tom.
“The second most valuable asset a woman can possess is her reputation,” Tom said.
“The second?” Evie had never really thought about it, but if she had to offer her opinion on the matter, a woman’s reputation would be uppermost in her mind. “I would have thought it would be at the top of the list.”
“A woman’s first and foremost valuable asset is her husband.”
Phillipa and Evie laughed.
“Think about it,” Tom insisted.
“I don’t have to,” Evie said. “We are talking about a woman of substantial wealth. She didn’t need a husband.”
Tom held her gaze for longer than he usually did, which made Evie wonder if he had stopped to process the information so he could reach some sort of new conclusion about her.
“Tom might have a point,” Phillipa conceded. “Most women do want to marry. If there is money involved, she will most likely look to improve her station in life. She might marry a titled gentleman but those are hard to come by. Also, they come with caveats and usually have expectations of their own. Sometimes, it’s not enough to be wealthy.”
Oh, yes. Pedigree.
Evie had tackled that particular hurdle when her ability to adjust to a new life had come under close scrutiny. She hadn’t just married Nicholas. She had married into a family and a title over three hundred years old.
“So, in order to even get the husband, the woman must have a pristine reputation,” Phillipa said. “And the same rule applies if she wishes to keep him.”
True.
“Is it possible she might have been having an affair?” Evie asked. And, if so, had someone killed her because of it?
Phillipa expressed the same opinion Evie had just pondered in silence, adding, “Yes, she must have been having an affair. Now to figure out who would hold the strongest objections to an affair and, in turn, the strongest motive to kill.”
An affair…
Playing around with the idea, Evie made a mental list of everyone who might be affected. The couple’s respective spouses. Their families. Their friends. Any one of them might have decided to take matters into their own hands.
She said, “Her husband loved her.” But even the most unconditional love could suffer from neglect or abuse and become warped.
“I’m suddenly interested in attending the funeral,” Phillipa claimed. “I hope my motor car is not fixed before then.”
“Yes, the culprit might attend.” As well as the committee ladies. Evie cringed. This would mark their first encounter since the afternoon tea fiasco. She hoped everyone remembered to bring along their manners.
Evie looked over at Tom. “I suppose it’s now time for you to go out there and mug someone for their clothes.” Since stepping into the shoes of Mr. Winchester, Tom had been procuring appropriate clothing without any effort whatsoever, almost as if he had access to a source of infinite abundance.
Tom drummed his fingers on the table. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Did you get around to asking the ladies if they have an interest in gardening?”
As she looked away from Tom, Evie felt he didn’t even have to try to wear the mark of confidence and success. He carried it with such ease, she had been having trouble remembering she employed him as her chauffeur.
“Heavens, no. With so much being said, it completely slipped my mind. Perhaps Mrs. Clarissa Penn can assist in this matter. Henrietta did well to engage her services as a spy. Although, she’s bound to insist Mrs. Penn offered.” Sighing, Evie added, “I suppose I should go check on Henrietta. After the committee ladies marched out of here, she went to lie down.”
She found Henrietta in her room reading a book and drinking a cup of tea.
“I feel I ought to apologize for everyone’s behavior today, Henrietta, including my own. I should not have allowed the discussion to get out of hand as it did.”
“I doubt even the force of nature could have stopped Mrs. Hallesberry. As for the Vi
car’s wife…” Henrietta snorted. “She has a bee in her bonnet and I don’t understand why. Perhaps we should speak with the Vicar. There might be trouble in paradise and Mrs. Ellington is taking it out on the rest of us, me in particular.”
“She used to be so pleasant,” Evie murmured.
“Yes,” Henrietta agreed. “If I wanted to be unkind, I would say she suffered under the tyrannical hands of a man who treats her like a doormat and has now pushed her to the outer limits of her patience and tolerance forcing her to, as you would put it, blow her stack.”
Evie sat on a chair opposite. “Henrietta, have you ever heard rumors about anyone carrying on?”
Henrietta gave an impish smile. “My dearest, rumors about people taking off with someone other than their spouse have always kept the mills grinding and I doubt they will ever stop.”
Evie must have looked mystified. So much so, Henrietta leaned forward and patted her hand.
“You are a treasure.”
“I feel I’ve been living under a rock,” Evie admitted.
“Do you mean to say you have never heard of the Duchess of Devonshire?”
“Of course, I have. The Devonshire family own the grandest house in England.” Evie clicked her fingers. “Chatsworth.”
“Yes, but I am specifically referring to Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire.”
Evie searched her mind for something intriguing she might have heard about the duchess.
“She was famous for her love affairs, among other things, which escalated her fame to notoriety. Heavens, she even had a child with Charles, Earl Grey while she remained married to the Duke. If someone of her social standing carried on the way she did, imagine what someone else might think they could get away with.” When Evie didn’t respond, the dowager asked, “You think Mrs. Howard-Smith had been having an affair?” The dowager gasped.
“Why did you just do that?”
“I’m shocked,” Henrietta admitted.
“But you just told me about the Duchess of Devonshire without even batting an eyelash.”
“Yes, but her affair is so far removed from my current reality, I can take it with a grain of salt. This, on the other hand, is indeed shocking. Do you have someone in mind?” The dowager surged to her feet. “We must speak with Sara. “She gets out and about more than I do these days.”
“I’ll call her and invite her to dinner, something I shouldn’t have to do if you had both remained living at Halton House.”
Henrietta patted her hand again. “I think you are entitled to some time alone. Of course, if you insist, we will be only too happy to return.” The dowager strode toward the door murmuring, “It feels strange to be invited back to one’s own home.”
Evie murmured right back, “I haven’t extended the invitation yet.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Dinner is the principal act of the day that can only be carried out in a worthy manner by people of wit and humor; for it is not sufficient just to eat at dinner. One has to talk with a calm and discreet gaiety. The conversation must sparkle… it must be delightfully suave with the sweetmeats of the dessert and become very profound with the coffee…” - Alexandre Dumas
The drawing room, Halton House
“We must attack by stealth,” Henrietta suggested as they left the dining room and strode into the drawing room. “Take them out one by one.”
Evie sunk into her chair. “I feel responsible. Perhaps you should give me the opportunity to broker a peace.”
“That ship has sailed, Evangeline.” Henrietta accepted a drink from Edgar who, nodding, appeared to heartily approve of the dowager’s stalwart remark. “We have already made far too many concessions. It is time to take a stand.”
Evie sighed. “This is meant to be a fundraiser. Maybe if we focus on that, we would all come together…”
The dowager wouldn’t hear of it. “I say we start with Mrs. Browning. On second thought, Mrs. Hallesberry has shown her true colors. Their land adjoins ours. To think, we have been neighbors all these years. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has spent all this time plotting against us. Learning our weaknesses…”
“And what might those be?” Evie asked.
Henrietta lifted her chin. “Our unquestionable generosity. Think of everything we have done for this district.”
Evie’s head spun. The entire dinner conversation had revolved around the committee’s wrongdoing, culminating in Henrietta’s desire for blood.
Evie accepted a glass of port. “All I can say is that you should be careful what you wish for.” Evie then proceeded to guide the conversation to a more mundane subject by asking, “Do any of you know if there are any new litters around? I would love to adopt a puppy.”
Disregarding the question, the dowager said, “Sara agrees with me.”
Oh, dear. That made it two against one.
Sara took a quick sip of her drink and, in her suave tone, declared, “We have reached a stalemate. They insist on organizing the event but they no longer have a venue for it. What’s to be gained by persevering? I say we simply go ahead and put a solid plan into motion. We do have the advantage now. And an unshakable one at that.”
“Yes,” Henrietta agreed and then surprised everyone with a mellowed voice of reason. “However, we might be perceived as opportunists, eager to take advantage of an unfortunate death. The rebels might gain the sympathy vote.”
“I doubt it will come to that,” Sara offered. “At the end of the day, the guests will simply wish to have a good time.”
The dowager gave it some thought and then turned her attention to Tom. Giving him a warm smile, she said, “You seem awfully quiet, Mr. Winchester.”
“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help to you. Dueling society hostesses remain out of my scope of experience.”
“In other words, you wish to remain neutral.”
Evie thought she heard Tom say he couldn’t think of a safer place to be.
Henrietta gave a firm nod. “When all is said and done, we must remain true to our cause. I will organize the invitations in the morning.” She cast her gaze around the drawing room as if challenging them to contradict her or provide a word of reproach.
Edgar broke the silence by announcing, “A telephone call for the Countess.”
“Which one?” all three Countesses of Woodridge asked.
“Lady Henrietta Woodridge.”
“Who could be calling me at this time of the evening and here, at Halton House?” the dowager asked without moving.
“There is only one way to find out, Henrietta. Would you like me to take the call?” Evie asked.
Henrietta took a pensive sip of her port and then set the glass down. “Oh, I suppose I should see who it is. For all we know, it might be urgent.” Henrietta shivered and made her way to the door, saying, “I always dread these telephone calls. I remember back in 1877 a flyer made its way around stating persons using the telephone could converse miles apart, in precisely the same manner as though they were in the same room, yet I always find myself shouting into the contraption. I think we have all been fooled by its benefits. To think, when Queen Victoria had a demonstration from the inventor himself, she found herself much gratified and surprised by it, going so far as to purchase the instruments post-haste. I often wonder where we might be if she had found it disrupting to our social fabric.”
When the dowager finally left to answer the call, everyone sat back in silence, almost as if relieved to finally have a moment of quiet.
It did not last.
Henrietta entered the drawing room and went to stand in the middle, turning to gather everyone’s attention to her. “We are in the midst of a storm.”
“Really?” Evie asked. “But it’s been so sunny.”
“I am not referring to the weather, my dear Evangeline. Doctor Browning has been seen rushing across the village.”
Evie took a deep swallow. “Perhaps he is on his way to deliver a baby.”
Henrietta gave a b
risk shake of her head. “My butler took the liberty of telephoning me here with the news which he received from Doctor Browning’s maid, the one who is rather keen on him. I’m not so sure I am keen on her but as I seem to be benefiting from the swift delivery of news, I am prepared to turn a blind eye. I don’t really mean to imply there is something going on between the maid and my butler, at least, not that I know of.”
Evie sat up. “Henrietta. The news.”
“Oh, yes. Doctor Browning rushed off to attend to Mrs. Hallesberry who has been taken ill.”
One of the committee ladies… who had attended afternoon tea at Halton House?
“I don’t wish to alarm you, Evangeline. However, comparisons are being made.”
So late in the evening? Evie took a deep swallow. “What type of comparisons?”
“Mrs. Howard-Smith had tea with you and later that night, she died. Mrs. Hallesberry also had tea with you and now she is drawing her last breath.”
“Mamma. Must you be so morbidly dramatic?” Sara asked.
“My choice of expression has nothing to do with me. I am merely the messenger and those were the precise words passed on to me. The Countess of Woodridge has been labelled a poisoner. I wish we could have been spared this dilemma. Now only the very brave will attend the ball. Although, I expect most people will be curious enough to risk their lives…”
Chapter Fifteen
A fatal coincidence is called into question
The library, Halton House
“Mrs. Hallesberry manifested the same symptoms as Mrs. Howard-Smith,” the detective confirmed.
Evie contained her frustration by gripping the armrests. Why couldn’t the detective come straight out and tell her how the woman had died? How could she draw a line of defense if she didn’t have all the details?
The detective held Evie’s gaze for a moment and then looked down at his notebook. “That is not the only similarity in this case.”
