English Trifle

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English Trifle Page 6

by Josi S. Kilpack


  Sadie was filled with pride mixed with sorrow at what this realization was costing her daughter. Love would not make all those other things disappear, but Sadie also knew that Breanna’s feelings for Liam wouldn’t go away because of her decision. What a heartbreaking reality. Poor Breanna. Poor Liam. “And what did Liam say when you told him this?” Sadie asked.

  “He’s been raised for this, Mom,” she said, waving her hand at the opulent library. “He came to the States when he was young but he was still the son of an earl. Even when the people around him didn’t know, he knew. He’d always planned to return to England when he needed to fulfill that responsibility—that’s why he never became an American citizen, remaining true to the Crown, I guess. His duty and responsibilities were something he and his father talked about a lot, but he didn’t expect to come into the title for a long time—Liam’s grandfather lived to be eight-six years old and had been the earl for over forty years. His father has only been an earl for eighteen. To have it happen this soon changes everything.”

  “Everything?” Sadie asked.

  Breanna dug into her pocket, producing a hair band. She pulled her hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck. It was her usual hairstyle at home, but she’d worn her hair down most of the week. Sadie knew that Liam loved Breanna’s long dark hair, especially when she wore it so that it cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. “Liam called Portland his first life. It was his chosen life and he expected to enjoy it to its fullest before the earldom reached out for him—just as his father had. Becoming the tenth Earl of Garnett would one day become his second life.”

  Breanna kicked off her brown leather clogs and flexed her toes encased in brown-and-white striped socks. She seemed to be making a point, proving that she was not a countess. It hadn’t crossed Sadie’s mind that Breanna had been trying to act any part this week, but she had worn her nicer jeans and kept her hair down. For Breanna that was perhaps as much role-playing as she could stomach. She was done now—the pretenses were over. The thought made Sadie a little bit sad.

  “It reached out to him sooner than he expected,” Sadie summed up when it felt as though Breanna might not continue.

  “And he’s chosen to take its hand,” Breanna said with just a touch of annoyance. She picked up one of the lemon cookies still sitting on the tray and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.

  “But, really, does he have a choice? He’s the heir,” Sadie admonished while Breanna’s cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk. She came around the front of the desk and leaned back against it—telling herself that having another cookie was a bad idea even if Breanna had had one. It was always hard to focus when there was food around, and she’d been doing so well up until now.

  Breanna looked up at her mother and met her eyes directly. “You’re the one who says we always have choices.”

  Sadie hated it when her children used her own words against her. “This might be a little different,” Sadie said. “Can he turn it down?” She finally picked up a cookie, but tried to do the ladylike thing and just nibbled the edges.

  “Why not?” Breanna asked. She waved a hand toward the double doors. “You met Austin—or Lord Melcalfe,” she added with derision. “That’s the kind of man Liam needs to be. Liam can barely talk to the staff let alone hire, fire, direct, or chastise them. For all his saying he was raised for this, he’s not ready for this kind of responsibility and if he truly cares about the earldom he would want it to go to someone who could preserve its heritage—its English heritage.” Breanna sighed. “Liam has lived in the U.S. for almost sixteen years and his memories of England revolve around boarding school and summer vacations spent with a governess. He doesn’t have what it takes to manage the holdings of the earldom. As much as I love the man, even I can see that. He’s a zoologist, and a good one at that. He doesn’t belong here any more than I do, but I can see it and he can’t.”

  “You love him?” Sadie asked, lifting her eyebrows and putting the cookie down on the tray. Her thoughts had been adequately hijacked. She’d assumed as much, but hadn’t heard Breanna say it outright.

  Breanna paused and seemed to sink into the chair a little bit. Her eyes filled with tears, causing Sadie to hurry across the room and sit on the arm of the chair. Breanna turned her head into Sadie’s shoulder. “Oh, why couldn’t he have just been a zoologist in Portland?” she asked in a quiet voice. “And have annoying parents who traveled the country in a Winnebago with a yappy little dog? I’d have even settled for half a dozen siblings who made holidays a nightmare so that we always fought about having to visit them.” She sniffed and Sadie stroked her head as she cried. “Why did he have to be the son of an earl? Of all the rotten luck.”

  Sadie wasn’t sure there were any answers to Breanna’s questions, so she said nothing—something she didn’t do very often. For nearly two minutes they stayed that way, then Breanna pulled away, wiping at her eyes that were only slightly red. It was as much of a breakdown as she’d allow herself. Breanna stood up and took a deep breath, working hard to get over her emotions.

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said as Breanna walked to the windows behind the desk. Breanna folded her arms and looked out over the manicured gardens that could have been hers. She was beautiful, framed against the window, her strong cheekbones and full lips lit by the cloud-filtered amber light of evening. Sadie watched her from the arm of the chair. “I’m really sorry for both of you.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Breanna said with a grateful smile, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at the English sunset. “I’m so glad you came with me. I’d have been lost without you this week.”

  “I didn’t do much.” Sadie shrugged her shoulders, though she always liked a sincere compliment.

  “You were my buffer,” Breanna said, turning to face her. “And you let me enjoy this trip and keep my head on straight. Had it just been Liam and me—well, I might not have been able to be quite so objective and that would have made everything worse. It’s better that this is over now rather than later when we’ve both let our expectations grow.”

  Sadie knew she wouldn’t want Breanna to be anything less than honest with Liam, but that thought caused her to wonder about something. “Have you told Liam you love him?” she asked.

  Breanna paused, then shook her head. “We’ve both said . . . things, but not that exact word.” She looked at her mother strongly, staring down her nose slightly. “And you do not have my permission to tell him in my place.”

  “Of course not,” Sadie said, offended that Breanna would think Sadie would share her personal thoughts. She’d only do something like that if she felt she had to. “I just wondered if he knew.”

  “I wasn’t sure I knew until this trip. How ironic is that? I come here and simultaneously determine I am in love with a man I can’t share a life with.”

  Sadie felt her own throat thicken with emotion to hear Breanna say such things, but she knew her emotion would only make it harder for Breanna. She thought back to the earlier comment Breanna had made about being glad Sadie had come so as to spare them both the ongoing pain of facing such a sad turn of events.

  “Well, I’d have never forgiven you if you’d have left me behind,” Sadie teased, trying to lighten the mood. “And though I’m sad things didn’t work out differently between you and Liam, I’m glad we came. I mean, the English trifle alone was worth the trip. Do you think I could sweet-talk Mrs. Land into making it for us again? There ought to be some perks to staying a couple more days, right?”

  “English trifle,” Breanna repeated, not taking the opportunity to change the subject as she looked back at the window. “Maybe that’s all this has been for me—trifling with something foreign.”

  Sadie didn’t like any negativity associated with English trifle—it was too delicious for that—so she threw in her own symbolism. “But just like trifle, life comes in layers. This happens to be one of yours and so long as you learn the important things that ensure the next layer is just a little sw
eeter—well, then it’s not wasted.”

  Breanna gave her a look that showed she wasn’t buying it, but then she let out a breath. “Well, this layer has us caught in the middle of a murder mystery without a body.”

  “Which no one believes we really saw,” Sadie added, disappointed that Breanna didn’t appreciate her analogy.

  “And without a Big Mac in sight to help us cope.”

  Sadie was poised to offer up another lecture on the wonderful aspects of English cuisine when the door to the library opened. Austin entered with a thin, gangly looking teenager following behind him. The young man looked as though he were wearing his father’s clothes, as they all appeared too big for him. Sadie was trying to determine who he could possibly be when Austin introduced them to him.

  “Breanna and Sadie Hoffmiller,” he said formally. His eyes rested on Breanna for a moment and he looked concerned, something Sadie wouldn’t have expected he was capable of. Sadie wondered if he could tell she’d been crying. Breanna’s whole face didn’t get blotchy like Sadie’s did, but her eyes were still a little red. Breanna looked away from his gaze and after a moment, Austin continued. “This is Inspector Colin Dilree with the Police Authority of Exeter. He’s here to take your statements.”

  Chapter 8

  ~

  Inspector Dilree? Sadie thought, looking over the man in hopes of finding even the smallest sign of authority she expected from a homicide inspector. She saw none. Instead, he looked as though he’d dressed up as a detective for Halloween.

  The inspector smiled, showing a slight gap between his two front teeth which made him look even younger. He hurried forward and held out his soft little hand. He wasn’t much taller than Sadie, which meant Breanna had several inches on the man. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking Sadie’s hand quickly before letting go. He seemed very excited to be here, which worried Sadie at least as much as his adolescent appearance. “Pleased to meet you,” he repeated as he shook Breanna’s hand as well.

  He held a briefcase in his other hand and as soon as he finished his greetings, he moved around the desk and set his case on the floor. He began clearing everything to the upper left-hand corner of the desktop. Sadie watched as he stacked papers perfectly, squaring up the corners after each addition, then placed all the other little accessories on top of the stack, and more accessories on top of those. The result was a well-engineered pyramid that fit perfectly on the desk. Once finished with his creation, he moved his briefcase to the cleared area of wood and opened it, removing a couple of folders, a box of paper clips, a small stapler, and a collection of his own pens, placing them all on the desk in such a way as to make the desk look as though it was his very own. Sadie half-expected him to produce a family picture as well, but he didn’t. Probably because he wasn’t old enough to date, let alone have a family of his own. Was he really an inspector?

  When he finally sat down, the huge desk came nearly to his chest—he didn’t seem to notice. He smiled at them and asked, “Who shall I speak with first?”

  Breanna and Sadie shared a look, but the inspector didn’t give them a chance to answer his question.

  “Miss Hoffmiller,” he said, smiling at Breanna. “Let’s start with you.” He turned his eyes to Sadie. “If you’ll be so good as to wait in the hall, then.”

  “Sure,” Sadie said, still trying to process that this little man was the inspector assigned to the case. If his presence was any indication of the regard his entire department was giving to their report . . . well, then, Sadie wasn’t holding out much hope. She followed Austin out of the library while reviewing the promise she’d made to Breanna about keeping out of the investigation. There had to be a loophole in their agreement to take into account the fact that someone had sent their son to take notes.

  The staff was lined up in the hallway when she came out of the library—indoor staff on the right and outdoor staff on the left. They all looked various shades of glum, irritable, and downright nervous—the nervousness award going to Mrs. Land who still wouldn’t meet Sadie’s eyes. Liam wasn’t there. Neither was Grant.

  Austin took his place against the wall across from the library door, apart from the staff. He crossed his arms over his chest and he watched her like he had when they’d first met. The only way Sadie could think to describe his gaze was piercing. It was difficult not to straighten her shirt or tuck her hair behind her ear under his scrutiny.

  “Liam’s with the earl,” he said, tempting Sadie to tell him that she knew that already. “I had your bags taken back to your room. Liam didn’t feel it wise to head for London tonight.”

  Sadie probably should have thanked Austin for the information, but she had too much pride, especially where he was concerned. Besides, she felt he still owed her an apology for saying what he’d said about Breanna. Unfortunately, she also had questions that needed answers and he was the only one she thought would talk to her right now. After a few seconds, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, frowned, and then typed out a text message before returning it to his pocket and looking at Sadie again.

  “Where’s Grant?” Sadie questioned, finding a blank space next to the library doors where she could lean against the wall like everyone else.

  “The inspector gave him an assignment,” Austin said simply.

  He didn’t offer anything else and Sadie scanned the faces of the staff, hoping to glean whether they had found anything during their search. She hated directing all her questions to Austin, feeling that he took great satisfaction in her ignorance each time she showed it, but finally had no choice. Even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer, someone had to say it out loud. “Did anyone find John Henry?” she asked.

  “If we did, he’d be standing here,” Austin answered, as patronizing as ever. “Or I suppose lying here with a poker in his chest for all of us to see. However, you’ll notice there is no body on the rug.”

  The man was insufferable.

  “Are there more inspectors looking through the house now?” Sadie asked. The body had to be here; if the staff didn’t find it, surely the police would.

  “There is one inspector,” Austin said. “And he is talking to your daughter. I showed him through the sitting room and he took some pictures and samples.”

  “He came alone?” Sadie said, dejected by the proof that the police really hadn’t taken Breanna’s call seriously.

  “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve,” Austin said. “Exeter is hosting a Hogmanay celebration and the Police Authority is in charge of supervising the road closures and such. They are apparently unable, or unwilling, to spare many of their men.”

  “Hogmanay?” Sadie said, trying to pronounce it like he did, stressing the last syllable.

  “It’s the Scottish version of New Year’s Eve,” Austin said as though she should already know this. “A loud, obnoxious festival with lots of fire and shouting and basic cacophony.”

  “So a big ol’ party trumps a murder at the earl’s estate? I thought you people were important.”

  The staff looked at her in shock; Austin gave her a slight smile in response. She couldn’t tell if he was being arrogant or if part of him liked that someone was standing up to him. Sadie put her hands behind her back and looked at the floor, preparing herself for a long and awkward wait until it was her turn to talk with the inspector. She’d rather not spend that wait talking with Austin who seemed incapable of saying anything without attaching an insult to it. Expecting several minutes before it would be her turn, she was surprised when the library door opened.

  “Your turn,” Breanna said dryly, giving her mother a look that seemed to warn her not to expect much. Fabulous.

  Sadie entered the library, and watched as Inspector Dilree repositioned a chair. He moved it a few inches to the left, pulled back to observe it, then moved it a few more inches to the left before observing it again. Then he moved it several inches to the right instead. Sadie stopped a few feet away, trying not to sigh in irritation as he repositioned the cha
ir three more times before he finally accepted it was in its optimal location.

  “Please have a seat, Mrs. Hoffmiller,” he said, indicating the chair before scurrying to the other side of the desk and taking his own seat.

  “So, Mrs. Hoffmiller,” he said, picking up a pen and removing a piece of paper from the top file. “Please tell me, in your own words, what you encountered in the sitting room.”

  Sadie wasn’t sure whose words he expected she might use instead of her own, but she complied, spending a few minutes to give him a detailed report of exactly what had happened in the sitting room. Inspector Dilree scribbled madly on the paper as she spoke, his shoulders curving inward as if protecting the paper from a strong breeze despite the fact that he was in a library.

  “Right,” the inspector said, quickly reviewing his notes. “Did you see any blood or tissue?”

  The word tissue made Sadie grimace and she shook her head. He lifted his head enough to peer at her. “Is that a no?”

  “No,” Sadie said. “I mean yes, it’s a no, but no I didn’t see any blood or . . . or stuff—well, other than the bloodstain on his shirt and I assume there would have been blood on the wall—but the body was in the way, of course.”

  Dilree nodded. “Did you smell anything?”

  She tried to remember, then shook her head. “No.”

  “Did you hear anything?”

  Like what? she wondered. Dead body sounds? “No, I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Very good,” the inspector said, sitting up straight. “That will be all.”

  “That’s it?” Sadie asked.

  “Yes,” Dilree said, looking quite pleased with himself. “That’s it.”

  Sadie watched him for a few moments, comparing everything she knew about detectives and inspectors and investigations. Not one of them fit this man. “Did you see the sitting room wall, the missing plaster?”

 

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