The Summerfield Bride

by C. G Oster

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  Livinia continued and knocked on the door. An elegant woman with brown hair, dressed in a green silk dress came to the door. She held a cocktail in her hand. “Livinia?” she said with surprise. “How unexpected?”

  “I was just driving past. Is Rose here by any chance?”

  “Yes, actually. Rose, darling. You have visitors. Do come in.”

  A younger version of the woman came down the stairs. “Hello, Livinia. How curious you are here. We were just speaking about you last night.”

  “Oh? We were just at Freddy Summerfield’s giving our condolences for his loss.”

  “So awful what happened,” the older woman said.

  “Isn’t it just? So we thought we’d come see how you are. You remember Dory, of course.”

  With a twist of her head, Rose looked over, but showed little recognition in her eyes. “Of course,” she said.

  “We were both interrogated by that beastly man. I take it you were too,” Livinia said.

  “Wasn’t he awful? No manners whatsoever. They must be short on men.”

  “Come out the back,” the mother said and walked ahead. The house had large, airy spaces with long white ceilings. There were none of the embellishments that Wallisford Hall had. Sleek lines and bookcases built into the walls. The walls were completely covered with wood, which had beautiful inlays of different colored woods. Even the door was made of glass squares and they walked through the backdoors to see a patio and a swimming pool. A tennis court lay beyond. Dory had never seen anything like this house.

  “How smart,” Livinia said. “We really should get a tennis court at Wallisford. Unfortunately most of our land is still full of chickens.”

  “I hear that much of the lands were requisitioned from many of the large estates.”

  “Yes, well, we all had to do our bit. We, unfortunately, did ours by rearing chickens.”

  They sat down at a set of chairs around a table. “Pimms?” the mother asked.

  “Couldn’t go wrong,” Livinia replied.

  A bulbous jug was brought out, full of ice and fruit. It certainly looked festive. A drink Dory had had several times before, because Lady Pettifer was quite partial to it on hot days.

  “How is Fredrick?” Rose asked. “I haven’t spoken to him.”

  It seemed that Rose and Fredrick weren’t close enough friends to communicate directly, Dory noted. She did have a notebook in her purse, but it would be inappropriate to whip it out here and start noting down things. When they left, she would note down all the things she could remember.

  “Very downcast, I would say. His mother relayed how distraught he was about the whole thing. But he is holding up, one could say. When was the last time you saw him?” Livinia asked. It was a good question. Dory was impressed.

  “It must be some two weeks back. We all had dinner in London. Anton’s in Mayfair. Do you know it?”

  “Yes, I’ve been a few times.”

  These things, Dory had no idea about. As much time as she had spent in Lady Pettifer’s and Livinia’s company, she didn’t know the broader things about their society. DI Capshaw would have absolutely no idea.

  “It was a nice evening,” Rose said. “Corny looked marvelous and Fredrick was very attentive. They were so happy. It’s so hard to think that she’s gone. Poor Corny. It’s just so awful.”

  “They simply must catch whoever has done this,” Rose’s mother said. “We cannot have people running around doing such a thing. These people have to be rounded up and hanged.”

  What exactly the woman had in mind with that statement, Dory wasn’t sure. Murderers were never groups of people that could be rounded up. It was never that simple.

  “How can we let our children out on the street when someone comes along and randomly murders people?”

  The insensible madman being responsible was always the conclusion people jumped to in order to explain the unexplainable, but as far as Dory had seen, there simply weren’t madmen running around. At least with the investigations she’d been involved with, it had never turned out to be a madman, but usually someone much closer to the victim and for reasons that served themselves.

  With renewed eyes, Dory studied Rose. She looked very relaxed and the sympathy was clear on her face. She wore a white dress printed with sprigs and lemons. It was pretty and Dory felt frumpy in comparison.

  For some reason, the conversation veered toward a horse racing meet that was to happen in a few weeks.

  “How are Prudence and Annabelle taking it?” Dory asked as the conversation seemed to veer off topic. “It must have been such a shock for all three of you.”

  “Of course it was,” Rose said. “They were beside themselves. They really were.”

  “I hope they have recovered,” Livinia said, refocusing on the reason they were there.

  “As much as one can, I suppose.”

  “I hope neither of them was in quarrel with her. It would be so difficult to lose someone and your last dealings with them were messy.” Alright, that was not perhaps the best question.

  “No, of course not,” Rose said.

  “Her dress was beautiful,” Dory said. “Quite spectacular. I’m not sure I have ever seen such a splendid dress.”

  Rose’s head twisted slightly. “Unfortunately no one will ever see it.”

  “Did she design it herself or did Mr. Harlowe do it for her?”

  “We had to guide her, of course. Corny always needed a little help with her designs.”

  “Oh, really?” Livinia said. “It always came across that she was the fashionable one.”

  “God no. She threw money at her wardrobe, and got the best people in the country to design her clothes, but she had no ability of her own.”

  “Still, she would have looked spectacular on her wedding day. Fredrick must have been quite smitten with her.”

  “Of course,” Rose said with a smile.

  “They did seem perfect for each other,” Dory continued.

  “Did you know them?” Rose asked with a smile.

  “Only in passing,” Dory replied, feeling uneasy because she was lying.

  “They had been together quite a few years, I recall,” Livinia said, because it seemed that Dory’s presence was being challenged.

  “About three years.”

  “That’s a long time to be together and not get married.”

  “There was a war. They wanted to wait. Fredrick is a very practical man.”

  “Just so you know, there are little whispers going around that there were tensions between Prue and Corny.”

  “Tensions?”

  “Jealousy. About Fredrick.”

  “Hah,” Rose said with a laugh. “That’s ludicrous.”

  “For a while, Fredrick was quite the catch. I suppose he is again now.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Rose said, a frown on her face.

  “Just that, given time, there will be lots of girls eyeing him up.”

  Rose’s expression lightened. “I suppose he will eventually have to find someone else to marry. He’ll never forget Cornelia, though. It was as if they were made for each other.”

  “That’s what he said,” Livinia said brightly.

  It was so hard to read Rose’s expression. At times, it didn’t flow naturally. “As to your question. Yes, there was some tension between Prue and Cornelia. I don’t know quite what it stemmed from. Maybe it was jealousy. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “What about Annabelle?” Dory asked.

  “Corny and Annabelle had been friends for a long time.”

  “Didn’t Annabelle and Freddy have a dalliance way back?”

  “No, of course not. They just went to a dance together. Freddy needed a date and Annabelle was a friend of the family. That is all. They’ve known each other for ages. If she was jealous about it, I didn’t see it. It wasn’t something she shared with me. Maybe there was jealousy. Who knows? You’re single now, aren’t you?�
� Rose said to Livinia. Both Rose and her mother’s tolerance with the questions were running out. Even Dory could tell.

  “Well, I had a thing with Terence Beauchamp for a while, but he’s such a clod, I called it off.” Livinia said.

  Dory didn’t actually know what went on in Livinia’s personal life. Neither did Lady Pettifer, frankly. Mostly, Livinia kept such things close to her chest. There had been a man she’d been engaged to, but it hadn’t worked out.

  Rose’s laugh was lilting and musical. “Terence is lovely. How dare you be so mean to him? Forget Freddy, Terence is a man who will be snapped up in a heartbeat.”

  “Well, someone else will make him a wonderful wife one day,” Livinia said dismissively.

  Chapter 12

  BOTH ROSE AND HER mother stood and waved as they drove off in the car. They smiled and waved back, before turning their backs to them.

  “Hah,” Livinia said. “She was practically burning up with jealousy. Tried to hide it, but wasn’t completely successful. That claptrap about Corny being clueless about fashion was categorically not true. Rose forgets that I actually knew the girl. She cared more about fashion than Rose ever did.”

  The wind whipped Dory’s hair and it felt distracting from the thinking she wished to do. There had been something a little disingenuous about Rose Wentley’s dismissal. More perhaps about how stoic she had been when they’d relayed Fredrick’s compliments about Cornelia. It had just seemed out of place, but Dory was also second-guessing her impressions. She didn’t actually know any of these girls—or even how appropriate Rose had been acting in any regard.

  “Did you get the feeling that it was the wedding she was jealous about, or the groom?” Dory asked.

  Livinia quickly turned to look at her, then back to the road. “Both, I suppose. The look on her face when I said Fredrick was back on the market now. I swear it was like she’d taken an accidental bite of a lemon.” Dory hadn’t really observed it the same way, but she listened to Livinia’s observations, because she knew these girls much better. “I don’t think she liked it.”

  “You think she might have a tenderness for Fredrick?”

  “I don’t know, but I think she was jealous.”

  “Was that true what you said about there being rumors regarding tensions between Prudence Marsh and Cornelia Vellsted?”

  “Could be. I have no idea. I don’t actually listen to gossip.”

  That was categorically not true. At times there were ways of saying things the right way with Livinia, or she would put her hackles up and flatly deny the blatant truth, and maybe Dory had just put something the wrong way, because Livinia very much listened to gossip about her friends. Or maybe this was some way of distancing herself from these girls. It was so difficult to tell. But it was true DI Capshaw wouldn’t be making heads or tails out of these girls.

  “Unfortunately, both Prue and Annabelle live quite far away so there’s no chance to interview them today. We should tomorrow. But there is something I need to do first. Oh, and it would be much easier if you stay at Wallisford Hall tonight.”

  “Alright,” Dory said, hiding her grimace because she wasn’t prepared at all for staying the night anywhere, let alone Wallisford Hall. But it didn’t make sense for her to return to Swanley and then to ask Livinia to drive down to London again tomorrow morning to pick her up. So Wallisford Hall it was.

  “I have to do something first,” Livinia said.

  They drove and drove, Dory only having a vague understanding of where they were. Livinia seemed to know these roads well. Livinia’s driving skill aside, Dory didn’t mind. They drove down beautiful roads, where the trees had their full crowns and gentle breezes rustled them. It was like a living picture.

  Finally they pulled into a lane that led to a house. Quite a grand house, it turned out. Perfectly symmetric as they drove down a tree-lined avenue. From the road, Dory hadn’t guessed such a nice estate was there. Much more traditional than the modern house of the Wentley family that they had just come from.

  Livinia pulled up in front of the main entrance and stepped out, and Dory still didn’t know why they were here or who they were to see. What was she supposed to do? Stay in the car? “Well, come on, then,” Livinia called.

  A man appeared at the door, a butler, Dory assumed. They had the austere and formal look about them.

  “I’m just dropping by and was wondering if Miss Olivia was here.”

  “As it happens, she is, Miss Livinia.” The man clearly knew who Livinia was without her introducing herself. Dory didn’t remember hearing about an Olivia, but then she had only known Livinia’s friends from the South of France.

  Dory smiled as she approached the door and followed Livinia, who apparently knew where she was going. “Olive,” she said as a girl appeared. She wore silk pants and a matching blouse. Her light brown hair was shoulder length and curly. The young woman was impossibly elegant. Dory couldn’t even conceive of wearing such an outfit. Firstly, she would look quite ridiculous as she didn’t have the surroundings to go with it, but to wear pants suggested a confidence that was beyond Dory.

  They kissed on the cheek. “Come sit,” Olivia said, her gaze quickly traveling over Dory and rightfully dismissing her as inconsequential. “Have you heard anything more from Vivian?” Clearly she knew Vivian as well.

  “No, not since that call. I suppose we must be patient.”

  “It was such a relief to hear from him. He was quite naughty for letting us linger like that for so long. We’d just about written him off as dead,” the young woman said as she sat down on a sofa. The large windows were open and the breeze was scented from the garden.

  If Dory hadn’t dealt with so many of Livinia and Vivian’s acquaintances, she would be quite intimidated now. Even so, she was struggling not to feel intimidated by the elegant creature on the other sofa. “Would you like some tea?”

  “No, frankly, a stiff drink would be more appreciated. It’s been a long day. We’ve just been to give our condolences to Fredrick Summerfield.”

  “I heard about that ghastly business. Simply horrific. Have they identified the culprit?”

  “No, not yet, but we suspect it was one of her party.”

  “Her party? Impossible. Who would that be? Prue and Rose, I suppose,” Olivia said.

  “And Annabelle Shoreham.”

  “Well, Annabelle Shoreham couldn’t conceive of murdering someone to save her own life,” Olivia said with a snort. “The girl simply isn’t built that way.”

  “What about the other two?”

  “Well, they are certainly more intelligent. But murder. That’s so…” she seemed to shudder with distaste. “No, it had to be someone in the store. Surely there were other people there. I think you’ll find someone else was responsible. What do the police say?”

  “I think they are still trying to figure out how to pronounce her name,” Livinia said dismissively. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they are utterly useless.”

  “Livinia,” Olivia chided.

  “Well, someone hated her enough to murder her in her wedding dress,” Livinia said.

  The butler arrived at the table with three glasses containing ice and clear liquid—most likely gin, Dory assumed and was proven correct when she took a sip of hers. Actually, it was really refreshing. The tonic having a cooling bitterness.

  “That is quite gruesome when you put it like that,” Olivia said. “Still, I can’t see either Rose or Prudence doing such a thing. They’re both very sensible girls. Annabelle has the attention span of a whippet, truly. Even if she was found with a knife in her hand, I wouldn’t believe she was capable.”

  “You don’t think her dizziness is an act?”

  “You mean the girl who initially believed the war was between Hitler and Napoleon?”

  “Fine, I concede the point.”

  “But there was that thing between Rose and Prudence. I can’t remember who said what exactly, but there was a slight besmirching of Rose’s character
and it was said that Prue started it. Something about being seen with a married man. It was quite sordid.”

  “A married man? Is it true?”

  “Who knows?” Olivia said. “I don’t know the details. But from what I heard, it was fairly vague on details, so it could be nothing more than an insinuation.”

  “It says quite a lot of about the friendship if that rumor was started by Prue.”

  “Well, it suggests they aren’t quite as close as they make out.”

  “Do you think that was true with Cordelia as well?” Dory asked.

  “Obviously in any friendships there are strains,” Olivia said. Saying that, Dory didn’t spread rumors about her friends being seen going off with married men.

  “In my experience,” Livinia said loftily, “they certainly come out when planning a wedding.”

  Olivia grimaced.

  “I suggest if you and Vivian ever get married, you cut down on bridesmaids as much as you can,” Livinia said and Dory’s eyes widened. This was Vivian’s girlfriend. She hadn’t realized. So this was the kind of girl Vivian was attracted to. Couldn’t blame him. Olivia was the height of sophistication. He and Olivia being so suave in a house like this. Maybe even this house. That was the future he would have when he returned.

  Dory looked around with renewed interest. It would be a lie to say she understood Vivian. She certainly knew how mean he could be. But there was definitely an… acquaintance between them. It wasn’t the right word. They were most definitely not friends, but they weren’t strangers either. Enemies was a bit strong, but Vivian could certainly be her main detractor. She was always walking on eggshells around him. Meeting Olivia put together a big piece of the puzzle that was Vivian Fellworth. Dory wondered how Olivia would react if she knew that Vivian particularly disliked her. Would she look at her scathingly and ask her to leave?

  It brought to mind the fact that Ridley’s opinions were now something she had to deal with more carefully. Would she bar someone from the house because Ridley disliked them? Ridley would never be so vocal with his dislikes, but perhaps she would be privy to such opinions once they married.