by Carola Dunn
“Of course! I hope you have an electric torch, Mr. Piper. It’s going to be dark by the time you get to Calstock.”
The dark clouds had brought on an early twilight. Alec frowned and said, “I don’t want you—or the evidence—falling into the river, Ernie. Perhaps you’d better see if the housekeeper will give you a bed.”
“I’ll doss with the puppy if need be, Chief,” said Piper with a grin.
He politely turned his back while Daisy and Alec bade each other a fond farewell. Then he and Daisy went through the gate, and Alec strode off after Tom Tring.
“You’d better put my coat over your head, Mrs. Fletcher.”
“Too late, I’m sodden,” said Daisy, shivering as a cold stream flowed down her spine. “Let’s hurry.”
She was glad of Ernie’s hand at her elbow at slippery spots in the path. They came to the tunnel and she led the way through. At the far end, she saw that they had nearly caught up with the captain and Miles, who were just starting up the steps. Miles’s shoulders drooped and every step seemed to cost him a huge effort.
Daisy and Piper in their turn started up the steps, Piper staying one below Daisy in case she slipped on the slick stone. She was about to set foot safely on the top terrace when, with a piercing yell, Jemima charged out from the shelter of the shrubbery growing along the house wall.
“It’s all your fault!” she howled. In her hands was a halberd, and it pointed unwaveringly at Daisy.
With a scream, Daisy recoiled. Piper caught her. They teetered together between the steep fall behind and the vicious spike bearing down upon them.
Then Miles was there, crashing into his frenzied sister and bringing her to the ground. The captain was there, reaching for Daisy’s flailing hand, grasping her wrist, anchoring her and Piper with his solid weight.
Daisy found her balance. Piper’s arms relaxed their painful grip on her waist and the captain released her wrist. Suddenly weak at the knees, she sat down on the top step. “Gosh,” she gasped, rubbing her wrist, “I thought I was well and truly sunk!”
The captain bent over her. “You’re not hurt, Mrs. Fletcher?”
“No, not at all, thanks to you. And thanks to …”
Ernie Piper had leapt past her. Swivelling, she saw him kneeling beside Miles, who was writhing on the ground. His sister knelt on his other side.
“Miles, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Jemima wept. “Oh, Miles! Is he going to die?”
“I think he’s just winded, no thanks to you, miss! And you’re under arrest for …”
“Oh, no, Ernie! Mr. Piper.” Daisy sprang to her feet. “You mustn’t arrest her. She’s been having a perfectly dreadful time and she’s utterly miserable and she’s simply not thinking straight.”
“She’s not in her right mind,” said Captain Norville grimly. “I take it kindly of you, Mrs. Fletcher, to stand up for my niece, and I’d rather not see her arrested, but I’ve seen enough of her tricks. You can be sure I’ll be sending her to some sort of sanatorium for treatment of nervous troubles, and if they can cure her, she’ll be going to a school that’ll teach her to behave herself.”
“What’s going on?” Felicity arrived on the scene, with Cedric in tow. “We heard screams. Oh hell, Miles!”
“I’m … all … right … , Flick. Just …”
“Winded, miss,” Piper pronounced again. “I reckon Miss Jemima’s elbow or knee must’ve caught Mr. Miles in just the wrong spot.”
“She attacked Mrs. Fletcher,” the captain explained, gesturing at the halberd which lay abandoned on the gravel, no doubt already beginning to rust under the persistent rain. “Take her to her mother, will you, Felicity? Come on, Miles, old fellow. This young ’tec and I will give you a hand.”
“Let me, sir!” exclaimed Cedric.
So the captain helped Daisy up, and the sorry procession wended its dripping way into the house.
Felicity marched Jemima straight upstairs. The girl was sullen and whining, apparently oblivious of the gravity of her offence. All Daisy wanted was dry clothes and a cup of hot tea, but first she had to thank her rescuers. The captain and Miles met her gratitude with heartfelt apologies for Jemima’s behaviour. However, Daisy was glad to note that Miles seemed to have been roused from his state of shock by the need for action. In spite of having been violently deprived of breath, he looked better than he had since his father’s arrest.
In answer to Daisy’s thanks, Piper said, “My pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher, but it wasn’t no more than my duty. Now if you could hand over them parcels, ma’am, I’ll go beg a place to doss and write up my notes.”
“Right-oh, come along then.” Turning towards the stairs, she heard Cedric begin an explanation of his presence. Much as she would have liked to hear, she was too wet and chilled to linger. As she reached the landing, she said to Piper, “Would you like to borrow my typewriter for your notes?”
“That’d be a great help, ma’am.”
Felicity came along the passage towards them. “Daisy, I’m so awfully sorry. Mother’s putting Jemima to bed with a powder, for all the good that will do. Actually, if you don’t mind my saying so, it’s a bit of a blessing in disguise or a silver lining or something like that. Jemima’s going for you has given Mother something to think about other than Daddy.”
“I’m awfully sorry about your father,” Daisy said.
“Thank you.” Felicity shrugged with a wry moue. “Of course it’s an awful shock, but … Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now, is there? One has to carry on. I told Cedric Daddy was about to be arrested, and he wants to marry me anyway.”
“Have you accepted him this time?”
“Oh yes! Anything to get away from Brockdene.”
“Unless you’d prefer to go to London to study fashion. I’m sure your uncle would …”
“Daisy!” The Dowager Viscountess swept out of Mrs. Norville’s sitting room. Felicity ducked down the staircase and Piper effaced himself, though he was in any case invisible to her ladyship.
“What’s up, Mother? You look like the cat that stole the cream.”
“Don’t be vulgar, Daisy. I’ve been sitting with Mrs. Norville. I consider her very hard done by. Since that wretched parson’s death, there is no way to prove she was Albert Norville’s wife. I have a great deal to tell Eva.”
“And the world! Lady Eva won’t keep it to herself. Be careful you don’t find yourself in contempt of court, if that’s the right phrase. Godfrey was just arrested for murdering ‘that wretched parson.’”
“Is that what all the fuss has been about? Then the poor woman needs my sympathy more than ever and, I dare say, my encouragement to keep a stiff upper lip. I must persuade her it is her duty to go down to tea just as if her son were not a criminal. After all, she is very nearly British.” Lady Dalrymple turned back towards the sitting room, pausing for a Parthian shot: “One’s children are so often unsatisfactory. I trust you mean to change before tea, Daisy?”
EPILOGUE
Daisy decided to forgo a hot bath in favour of a hot cup of tea. She met Captain Norville on the landing.
“My mother’s already gone down,” he said. “I expect you’re good and ready for your tea.”
“More than ready,” Daisy agreed.
He followed her down the stairs to the hall. As he stepped ahead to open the library door for her, Belinda and Derek burst through the door from the passage to the dining-room and the old house.
“Is it tea-time, Aunt Daisy? I’m starving!”
“We’ve found something, Mummy.”
“Not a treasure map,” Derek sighed.
“We were searching for secret drawers in the old desk and we found this.” Belinda held out a folded piece of yellowing paper. “Derek was going to put it back, because it’s not a treasure map, but I thought it might be important.”
Daisy opened the paper. It was headed “Certificate of Marriage,” and below, amidst the official wording, were the names of the Honourable Albert Norvill
e and Susannah Prasad, followed by Calloway’s signature.
“Yes, darling, it’s important!” Daisy handed the certificate to the captain. “I believe this belongs to your mother, Captain. You’re the best person to give it to her.”
The captain took one look and turned white beneath his tan. Then his face bloomed ruddily and tears started to his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out, and rushed into the library.
“Is he happy, Mummy?” Belinda asked anxiously.
“Very happy, darling,” said Daisy, hugging her. So much for Mother’s grousing, she thought. My child is altogether satisfactory.
Also by Carola Dunn
The Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries:
Death at Wentwater Court
The Winter Garden Mystery
Requiem for a Mezzo
Murder on the Flying Scotsman
Damsel in Distress
Dead in the Water
Styx and Stones
Rattle His Bones
To Davy Jones Below
The Case of the Murdered Muckraker
MISTLETOE AND MURDER. Copyright © 2002 by Carola Dunn. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
eISBN 9781429999960
First eBook Edition : April 2011
First Edition: December 2002
