I found him still at the breakfast table. It did not surprise me that he had not chosen to follow us. An impulsive man at heart, Bertram was constitutionally opposed to believing how very dark things could be. He had to be. He lived in the same house as a brother who he believed had murdered their father. In short he was always reluctant to face and deal with unpleasant truths.
He rose as I entered the room. ‘Euphemia, is Mama well?’ I came forward and took his hands in mind. ‘I am so sorry, Bertram, but your mother is dead.’
At this precise moment Rory walked into the room and saw my hands in Bertram’s. A scowl descended on his face, but he replaced it quickly with an appropriate sombre look. I had not missed the flash of jealousy in his eyes. All I could think , was not now. Honestly men.
Bertram gave a short cry, released my hands and sank back down into his seat. Richard Stapleford moved behind his chair and placed his hand on Bertram’s shoulder forcing me to cede my place.
I realised the room had become a lot fuller of people than when I had left. ‘Bear up, Bertie, old man,’ said Richard. He swallowed hard. ‘We both know what it’s like to lose a parent.’ He squeezed Bertram’s should firmly. ‘It’ll be fine, old man. You, Rory, fetch this man another brandy.’ I simmered with fury. I knew how false this man was being, but Bertram looked up at him with real gratitude in his eyes. He nodded, obviously blinking back tears. ‘It’s the shock,’ he said to Richard. ‘She was so young.’
The phrase not as young as she would like people to think flashed through my mind. ‘We have to think of what she want,’ said Richard. ‘Should we postpone the wedding?’
‘Oh no,’ said Bertram, ‘Mama would not want that. She was so looking forward to it.’ He choked on the last words. Rory silently handed him a glass. ‘I think I’d like to be alone for a bit,’ said Bertram. ‘If someone could call a doctor? I’ll make the arrangements once her death has been medically confirmed.’
‘Of course, Bertie. Of course. You go up for a bit,’ said Richard.
‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think you will find it is that straightforward.’
‘What?’ said Bertram.
‘I am very much afraid that Lady Stapleford has been murdered.’ A ripple of interest went round the room.
‘You dare,’ gasped Bertram, ‘you dare say that! Who do you suggest wanted my mother dead?’
I took a step backwards. ‘I have no idea,’ I said.
‘Exactly,’ said Bertram, ‘there is no one who would have wanted to harm my mother. I’ll thank you to keep your fantasies to yourself.’ He stormed off, still clutching the glass. Richard raised an eyebrow at me.
‘You’ll have to excuse the fellow, Your Highness,’ said the Earl’s voice from behind me. ‘The fellow’s a bit upset.’
‘Of course,’ I said, turning to face Ratty. ‘But as I am sure your housekeeper and the Stapleford’s valet would have told you, it appears Lady Stapleford drunk her late night drink before she died.’
‘Nothing odd in that,’ said the Earl. ‘Did the same thing myself.’
‘Yes, but you appear to be quite hale.’
‘Oh, you’re saying someone deliberately put something in her drink?’ said the Earl, frowned in a very craggy way. ‘I thought young Bertram had picked you up wrong and you meant she’d died of food poisoning.’
Mrs Merion tugged at his sleeve. ‘I did say I was concerned about the oyster supplier.’
The Countess came up beside her husband. ‘Perhaps we should send the servants to check that no one else is feeling unwell?’ she suggested.
‘An excellent idea,’ I said in what I hoped was a compromising tone. ‘But the doctor must also be sent for.’
‘What, young Leech?’ said the Earl. ‘He’s the only man in these parts and he’s barely out of nappies.’
The Countess patted his arm. ‘Threep. He’s a fully qualified young man and I’m sure he’d be delighted to help. Now someone will have to go and tell Richenda. I believe she is still in bed. Regardless of what Bertram said, I am not at all sure it is proper for the wedding to continue.’
‘Lady Stapleford’s maid should also be found,’ I said as I had a sudden vision of Suzette running away with what remained of Lady Stapleford’s jewellery.
‘Indeed,’ said the Countess. ‘An excellent idea. She may well be able to clear up all this confusion. You, girl, put that glass down and go and find her. Send her to Mrs Merion’s room.’
A white-faced Merry, stood shakily, bobbed a curtsey and left.
‘Now you, my dear, as Richenda’s closest friend, are undoubtedly the right person to break the news to her and ascertain what she wishes to do.’ I turned and looked hopefully over my shoulder, but she was talking to me.
Chapter Seventeen
The Blushing Bride
‘The witch,’ cried Richenda, ‘She has done this to spite me!’
‘She died in agony,’ I said. We were standing in Richenda’s room. The lady was clad in an unflattering olive bed jacket and matching nightdress. It certainly didn’t sit well with the puce colour suffusing her face.
It had not gone unnoticed that while I had a suite of rooms, she only had an overly large room. Strange red birds, shedding feathers and golden pagodas adorned the wallpaper. Little frozen blue farmers with baskets and triangular hats were frozen in their attempt to cross little bridges that led from one tree to another. Indisputably exotic, the patterned papers and accompanying linen and curtains were very busy. It was giving me a headache. I thought if I’d been cooped up in here for a night I might be in a foul mood too.
‘Over-ate, did she?’ said Richenda, stamping her foot. ‘Greedy cow. Always was out for whatever she could get for free. I’ll tell you one thing I will not let her indispositions halt my wedding.’
‘Indisposition?’ I said, ‘the lady is dead.’
Richenda waved her hand dismissively. ‘Don’t worry. I shall say how awfully sorry I am and all that and how dear Stepmama wanted this wedding so very much. I shall dedicate the wedding to her memory. Even if the words stick in my throat. I’ll tell you, Euphemia, that woman got no more than she deserved.’
Merry, who was searching for black clothes for Richenda to wear or anything even vaguely suitable for mourning, poked her head out from the cupboard. ‘I always thought she was alright,’ she said stubbornly. ‘She was the only one who ever spoke up to your father for you.’
‘Merry!’ I hissed. ‘It is not your place to say such things.’
‘It’s true,’ said Merry. ‘And I don’t hold with speaking ill of the dead. Lady Stapleford didn’t do me no wrong and I’m sorry she’s copped it.’
‘Perhaps we should have you read the eulogy at the funeral?’ said Richenda, dripping sarcasm.
Merry came completely out of the wardrobe, so she could stand her ground. ‘All I’m saying is she didn’t deserve to be murdered.’ She sniffed and muttered under the breath, ‘unlike some I could mention.’
But she needn’t have worried Richenda had already turned her fury on me. ‘This is your fault.’
‘Me?’ I staggered backwards. ‘I didn’t kill her.’
‘Of course not. She ate too many oysters or some such, but I have no doubt it will have been you who cried murder. Still trying to get your claws into Bertram. He’ll never have you.’
‘Might I suggest,’ I said reverting to my own upper-class accent (and I can make it as painful as long nails running across wet china) ‘that it would be incredibly foolish of me to attract the police’s attention to The Court. I am not, after all, who I am thought to be.’ I added a mental if you only you knew.
‘Pah!’ said Richenda.
‘I could further add that any investigation that unmasks me will also unmask the person who presented me to the company. You, Richenda, you!’
‘Blast it,’ said Richenda and threw herself down on the bed. ‘What’s the Earl doing about it?’
‘He has sent for the local doctor.’
‘Well, you will just have to wrap him round your finger, Euphemia, like you seem to do with all the men you meet. You’ve got a head start this time. You’re royalty.’
‘Are you suggesting that I ask the doctor to falsify his account?’
‘I’m saying if it is murder then yes, you need to get him under control. I’m sure the Earl can see off any policemen. It’ll all be over by tomorrow.’ She stalked over to the wardrobe, pushed Merry aside and pulled out a dark blue dress. ‘This will do. It’s not like she was blood.’
I left and Merry took the opportunity to come with me under the pretence of helping me change into something less dressy than the beautiful red frock I was wearing. ‘She’s going to get us all into trouble if she carries on like that,’ said Merry and she helped me with the impossible fastenings. ‘Are you sure it was murder?’
‘I don’t know. Rory thought the same as me. It was the empty cup. No sign of a stain on the floor from that. It was obviously the last thing she’d drunk.’
‘How are you going to work this one out?’ asked Merry. ‘I’ll help as much as I can, but I’m stuck below stairs most of the time. And Rory can hardly come up and gossip with you.’
‘No,’ I said sadly, ‘and Bertram is furious with me for suggesting someone had murdered his mother.’
‘He’ll get over that once he realises you’re right.’
‘I hope so. If it is murder then the murderer has to be found quickly before the police ask too many questions.’
‘You don’t suppose Richenda did it after that awful row they had last night?’
I thought about it. ‘It depends what the row was about. Richenda wouldn’t do anything to put her grand day in danger.’
‘But if that was what Lady Stapleford was threatening to do?’ said Merry.
‘I can see how she might think that was the lesser of two evils. After all, she has seen her brother get away with murder.’
‘So you say.’
‘If you are about to say, Merry, that it was never proved. Then I know that.’
Merry huffed. ‘I suppose if you’re used to getting your own way in everything you might take it a step too far. Richard saw off the police before …’ she trailed off. ‘I hope the Earl is the same or you’re in a lot of trouble.’
I stopped stung with indignation. ‘Are you saying you want the murderer to go Scot-free to save us a little inconvenience?’
‘If by inconvenience you mean jail then yes, I’m leaning that way. I’m in on it too and more to the point so are all the Staplefords. There is no way they are going to let the police swarm over this household.’
I lifted my head resolutely. ‘Then it will be up to us to catch him – or her,’ I said.
‘Oh Lor’,’ said Merry. ‘You and your grand ideas.’
‘Where’s the Merry I once knew, who would have said what a grand adventure?’
‘Did you bang your head?’ said Merry. ‘I’ve never thought anything you’ve got yourself into was a grand adventure. I should have left you locked in that wardrobe.’ And so saying she took herself off into one of the servants’ passageways still muttering. I reflected that Merry with a serious swain was a lot less fun. It was clear she wanted to keep her head down and get permission to marry Merrit. I could hear her now explaining to Richenda how they were so well-suited, both liking ‘views’.
I entered the morning room. There was probably more than one morning room in this vast pile, but it was the only one I had been shown. My grandfather and the Earl were seated by the fireside sipping whisky. Both rose as I entered.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said preparing to back out. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
The Earl came over and held out his hand. ‘Do come in my dear girl. We could do with some beauty to lighten the mood.’
My grandfather sheepishly pushed his glass to one side. ‘I know it’s a bit early, but we’ve all had a bit of a shock. We both knew Lady Stapleford in her youth before she married the late Lord Stapleford. Believe it or not, she was once rather a lovely girl.’
I could see no way to politely make my escape, so I took a chair on the opposite side of the fire and refused ‘a snifter’ from the Earl. ‘Ah, such a long time since we were all young,’ said Ratty (the Earl’s nickname.) ‘You wouldn’t understand my dear, but I’m afraid you will one day. Age comes to us all.’
‘If we’re lucky,’ muttered my grandfather.
‘Quite. Quite,’ said Ratty.
‘Yes, quite a beauty, she was,’ said my grandfather, ‘I remember my late wife was most unkind about her.’
Ratty smiled. ‘It was always the good test of a girl’s looks if Charlotte disliked her. His,’ he gestured to my grandfather, ‘wife was one of the most beautiful women you could ever have wished to meet.’
My grandfather nodded sadly. ‘She took it badly when her looks began to fade.’
Ratty swallowed a good mouthful of whisky. ‘They often do. I’ve been lucky with the Countess. She never was that much of a looker, but brains, wit, and charm, they never fade, and she has them all in abundance.’
‘Bowled over, I was,’ said my grandfather, ‘I thought such a heavenly creature must have the temperament of an angel. Couldn’t believe my luck when she said yes.’
Ratty hiccupped slightly. ‘We’re still talking about your late wife, aren’t we?’
Grandfather assented. ‘I’d have done anything for that woman. And I did. Made some foolish promises.’ His face creased in sorrow. ‘Word of a gentleman and all that. Never should have done it.’
Ratty got up rather unsteadily and placed a hand on his shoulder. I was becoming uncomfortably aware that they had dipped into the decanter rather more than I had realised. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock.
‘What will happen about the wedding?’ I asked.
‘I doubt the Stapleford girl will let Tipton slip through her fingers. She’ll have a quiet do. Doubtless say it was what her stepmama would have wanted. No one will believe her, but it’ll pass muster.’
‘Wasn’t there to be a wedding rehearsal this morning?’ I asked.
‘Damn and blast it,’ said the Earl. He went to the fireplace and vigorously rang the bell. ‘Someone will have to tell the vicar he’s on double time!’
Chapter Eighteen
Is There a Doctor in the House?
‘She’s in here, doctor,’ said Rory unlocking Lady Stapleford’s door.
‘I can’t face it,’ cried Richenda. ‘Poor Stepmama!’ She swooned dramatically. No one caught her. She hit the floor with a dull thud.
Dr Threep, a man in his early thirties dressed in poor quality tweeds, and with glasses constantly sliding down his nose, gave a little ‘Eep!’
‘Is she alright?’ he asked.
‘Oh, aye,’ said Rory, ‘but she was that close to her wed …’ he coughed. ‘I mean that close to her stepmama. It’s affected her. Perhaps you’d be able to give her a sedative, doctor?’
‘No, I’m fi–’, began Richenda, struggling to her feet, but the Countess secured her by the arm. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea,’ she said. ‘I’ll see Richenda along to her room and you can see her afterwards, doctor. Her Highness can represent the household. My husband really can’t stand bodily fluids. The trouble I had getting pregnant you would not believe! And Robbins is a bit old for such things.’
And with that she left Rory and I with the doctor. ‘Is this the way the house normally runs?’ he asked Rory.
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t say, sir. Neither her Highness nor I are of this household.’
‘Then why? No, never mind. I think I’ll stick to the job at hand. You are aware, your Highness, that this is liable to be unpleasant.’
‘It was Rory, the housekeeper and I who discovered the body.’
‘Well, I only hope she kept the windows shut,�
� said the doctor obscurely and flung the door wide. He stepped through. This time the stench was stronger. The natural procedure of dying had added other elements to the mess that doubtless Ratty would have found most uncomfortable. The window was open and flies were buzzing around … I felt the gorge rise in my throat. I took a step back into the corridor. Rory looked at me anxiously.
‘You’re guy white,’ he said under his breath.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’m not going in.’
‘My, my!’ said the doctor from within. ‘Not a pretty sight at all. I can definitely say she ate something that disagreed with her with monumental consequences.’ He sounded positively gleeful. ‘I’d need to perform an autopsy to be sure, but I think we can put it down to food poisoning.’ He came back to the doorway. ‘Any chance the family would let me do an autopsy?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely not,’ shouted Richard Stapleford, striding down the corridor. ‘Why was I not informed the doctor was here?’ he demanded.
‘I have no idea,’ I said coldly.
‘Well, I am here now and there can be no question of cutting up dear Mama.’
‘Isn’t that your brother’s decision,’ I asked. ‘As it is actually his mother and not yours?’
‘Good God, woman – I mean, your Highness! I don’t know how things are down in your country, but here we respect the dead.’
‘Just thought I’d ask,’ said the doctor. ‘Usually only get to practice my cutting skills on the odd sheep or pig one of the local farmers is feeling a bit iffy about.’
His mournful expression at the loss of Lady Stapleford’s cadaver in other circumstances would have been almost comical. I attempted to see past the general despicableness of the little man and focus attention on the real matter. ‘Did you notice the cup, doctor?’
A Death in the Wedding Party Page 9
