01 - Murder at Ashgrove House

by Margaret Addison

  ‘I can’t quite believe you’ve been waiting here for us that long, Aunt Connie. We’ve been stopped here an age, I was beginning to get frightfully cross with poor Brewster but….’

  ‘That’s because I got rather distracted by a red admiral butterfly that I happened to spot, haven’t seen one for ages, just usually see those boring cabbage white ones and so I forgot to listen out for the car, but please don’t interrupt my dear, we must be quick in case we’re caught. What I wanted to tell you, warn you really, is that your mother’s here. She invited herself for the weekend. Well, actually she didn’t even do that. Just got her butler to ring up Stafford and tell him she was coming, she and your father, although how on earth she managed to persuade him to leave his library, I can’t imagine. Anyway, they arrived not long after breakfast. They must have set off at the crack of dawn, either that or they set out yesterday and broke the journey somewhere last night.

  ‘Somehow she’s got wind that you’d be down at Ashgrove this weekend and she wanted to catch you as soon as you arrived. I think she wants to have a word with you about this working in a shop business and seeing as you rarely go home …’ Lady Withers looked at her niece somewhat reproachfully as if she held her responsible for the arrival of her unwelcome guest ‘… she thought she’d better come down here if she wanted to catch you.’

  ‘Oh, but this is awful,’ cried Lavinia and Rose thought that for once her friend may not be exaggerating, for she had never seen her looking so genuinely upset. ‘Oh, she’ll spoil everything. She won’t leave me alone for a minute, she’ll badger me, going on and on at me until she has managed to get me to promise not to return to Madame Renard’s. Well, I shan’t. l won’t let her get her own way, I won’t, not this time.’ Rose began to feel anxious and just a little disappointed. Perhaps it was not going to be such a wonderful weekend after all.

  ‘That’s the spirit, my dear,’ Lady Withers was saying, looking impressed. ‘This working in a shop lark seems to have toughened you up a bit. But I thought it only fair to give you the heads up, so to speak. Fore warned is fore armed as they say.’ And with that she attempted to swat at a wasp with her secateurs.

  Up close Rose could see that, although now a little faded and wrinkled, when she had been young Lavinia’s aunt must have been a beautiful woman. There was still something proud and majestic about the way that she carried herself that showed breeding; at the same time there was something rather fragile about her, that Rose was sure brought out the protective instinct in men, which she felt was the desired effect and wondered idly how much of this sense of fragility had been deliberately cultivated by Lady Withers.

  ‘It must have been Ceddie. He must have let it slip. Oh, the silly boy, I should never have told him we were coming to Ashgrove this weekend.’

  ‘Quite probably, my dear, especially as Cedric’s wired to say that he’s coming down too, although he hasn’t arrived yet and we’re not quite sure when to expect him, you know how vague young men can be these days. I’m sure that you’ll be delighted to see him, of course; it will be nice for you two young things to have someone else young about the place rather than having to make do with us old things, but it does make things all a little awkward with Edith coming down. I didn’t want to put her off, you know how careful you’ve got to be with poor Edith, she does feel things so dreadfully being so highly strung and sensitive, what with everything that’s happened, but it’s going to be all rather awkward. I just hope that we don’t have a repeat of last time. You remember how awful it was, absolutely dreadful and made more so because one just didn’t know what to do. If it hadn’t been for dear William and Stafford, I’m not sure what we would have done. I mean, it was so unexpected, one couldn’t possibly have foreseen that it was going to happen. I’m just worried that Edith will give a repeat performance in front of your mother, oh, I can’t even bear to think about it. Marjorie won’t be at all understanding. She’s likely to give poor Edith a piece of her mind and then the poor woman’s bound to go all to pieces.’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Connie, what a weekend it’ll be. But at least Ceddie will be down. As well as being good to see him, at least if he’s here I will have a bit of peace from Mother. She’ll have to divide her time between lecturing me and talking to Ceddie. You know he’s always been her blue-eyed boy while I’ve been rather a disappointment to her. She won’t pass up a chance to find out how he‘s getting on at Oxford, because he goes home to Sedgwick almost as infrequently as I do. In fact, I think he only goes back to ask Daddy for money to pay his debts, oh what frightful and ungrateful children we are. Why … whatever is the matter, Rose? You don’t look quite right at all, your face is all pink. Was it the journey? I have to say it has made one feel frightfully hot.’

  ‘I’m fine, Lavinia, really I am,’ Rose said trying to pull herself together, although she did not feel at all fine. If truth be told, she was beginning to feel quite queasy about the whole weekend. It was bad enough that Lady Belvedere was going to be there and likely to put a dampener on proceedings, but for Viscount Sedgwick to be there as well. Lavinia had always spoken warmly of her younger brother and she was sure he would prove delightful, but from Rose’s point of view it changed the weekend completely. It was one thing to pass the weekend at Ashgrove with Lavinia’s delightfully eccentric old aunt and her old school friend, but quite another to find that a young and, from what Rose could tell from the society pages, extremely attractive and eligible member of the aristocracy was also going to be present. Instinctively her thoughts went to her wardrobe. She thought of her sensible tweed suit, her faithful silk velvet evening dress and her mother’s pearls; she should have been more adventurous with her clothes because, especially compared with Lavinia, she was likely to look distinctly dowdy.

  Lady Withers assured them that she would make her own way back to the house through the gardens and asked that they give her ten minutes’ start before they set off along the drive in the car so that she was there to greet them. Rose and Lavinia got back into the car, the doors opened for them by the diligent Brewster. Rose could tell at once that her friend was in an agitated state.

  ‘Oh, Rose,’ said Lavinia clasping her friend’s hand excitedly, ‘it’s going to be a bore, of course, having Mother here and you mustn’t mind a thing she says to you because I’m afraid she’s bound not to like you at all, what with you working in the shop with me, but it’s so wonderful that Ceddie is going to be down. You’ll find him great fun and think him awfully nice, although he can be rather an annoying little brother at times. But that’s not why I’m excited, Rose. I’m excited because of who he may bring with him.’

  ‘He’ll be bringing down someone else with him? But Lady Withers didn’t say anything about there being another guest,’ Rose said, anxiously.

  ‘Well, I doubt whether she knows. Ceddie can be awfully vague and irritating at times. He’ll think nothing of bringing down a friend with him without asking Uncle William and Aunt Connie first. And he needn’t really, because they’re always delighted to see us and they have got loads of servants and bedrooms and things, so it’s not as if they’d be caused any inconvenience although, of course, they weren’t to know that my parents were coming down, and if Mother doesn’t bring her own lady’s maid with her and Daddy his own valet I suppose there might be ….’

  ‘Lavinia,’ Rose interrupted, ‘who do you think your brother will be bringing down with him?’

  ‘Why, Hugh, Marquis Sneddon, of course. He’s the only surviving son of the Duke of Haywater and he’s recently become a great friend of Ceddie’s, they’re quite inseparable. He’s quite a few years older than Ceddie, but still quite young, about twenty-eight or nine, I think. Mother will be delighted because she’s quite set her sights on him for me. There aren’t that many eligible heirs to a dukedom around these days of the right age, I can tell you. Because of the war and everything, they’re either much too old or still children, and mother doesn’t really want me to marry below a marquis although, at a push,
I think she’d settle for an earl, like Daddy. But she’s got her heart set on my being a duchess. Normally I don’t fall in with her wishes, as you know, but Hugh is exceedingly handsome, all dark and brooding, you know the type. He’ll quite take your breath away, Rose.’

  It was clear to Rose then that the weekend was likely to prove more eventful than she had been expecting. While she was beginning to approach it with a feeling of trepidation, she was excited too. It never occurred to her for one minute that the mix of people that the weekend was throwing haphazardly together, might result in murder.

  Chapter Six

  The front door was opened to Rose and Lavinia by Stafford who, to Rose’s mind, seemed to embody respectability and have every attribute that a good butler should. He was tall and thin and suitably deferential, but he also had a certain authoritative air about him as if one could expect him to be knowledgeable on every matter of importance. She could well imagine that a person like Lady Withers would defer to him on decisions affecting the smooth running of the house. Lavinia seemed delighted to see Stafford and Rose thought that she could detect the shadow of a smile cross his face, as he bowed at them slightly. She remembered what Lavinia had told her in preparation for her visit, about herself and Cedric almost growing up at Ashgrove, because they had visited so often in their childhood, and how Stafford had been with Sir William since a young man. She noticed that Stafford’s bow had encompassed them both and, when he looked up, Rose was relieved not to detect in his eye any sign that he thought her beneath his respect or considered her presence there inappropriate, either as a friend of Lady Lavinia’s or as a guest at Ashgrove.

  Behind them Brewster was unloading their luggage and a footman dressed in tailored livery, who Rose found out later was called Albert, sprang forward to take it up to their rooms.

  ‘I must apologise, Lady Lavinia, that neither Sir William nor her ladyship is here to greet you. Her ladyship was in the rose garden, but unfortunately we have been unable to locate her exact whereabouts and Sir William is engaged on an important telephone call in his study, but will be with you in a moment.’

  ‘Don’t worry Stafford, you’re here to greet us and we passed Aunt Connie on the drive. She’ll be here in a moment,’ Lavinia assured him with an air of confidence that showed that she felt very much at home at Ashgrove. ‘And it isn’t as if I don’t know the way. This is Miss Simpson, a very good friend of mine, she works in the shop with me, don’t you know, but she is ever so much better at it than I am. Which rooms has Mrs Palmer given us? Do say it’s the Snug and the Silk Room.’

  ‘It is indeed, Lady Lavinia; Mrs Palmer knows how you love the Silk Room and she thought you’d like Miss Simpson in the room next to you.’

  Rose looked around her trying to take it all in. The ground floor of Ashgrove House consisted, as far as the residents and guests were concerned, of a large square hall, drawing room, dining room, library, study and most conveniently a lavatory. What lay beyond the green baize door, the domain of the servants: the long corridor, which led eventually to a back door; the rooms opening off the corridor which included the servants’ hall, the housekeeper’s parlour, a pantry, a large kitchen, a scullery, the service door to the dining room, the male servants’ bedrooms, a back staircase of linoleum steps off the corridor which finally led up to the female servants’ bedrooms way up in the attic and the staircase leading down to the cellar, boot room and coal cellar, she was not aware of on her arrival, although she was to become unexpectedly acquainted with a few of these rooms during the course of her stay. At the moment, however, she was taking in the rather grand, old, highly polished wooden staircase leading off from the hall to the first floor and admiring the oil paintings on the wall encased by heavy, ornate gilt gold frames.

  ‘Well, Stafford, I understand the old battle axe is here?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Lady Lavinia?’ The butler stared looking ever so slightly taken aback.

  ‘My mother, Stafford, I understand she has invited herself down for a visit.’

  ‘Ah, indeed, Lady Lavinia, the countess is here and I gather most keen to see you.’

  ‘Well, I’m not at all keen to see her. I suppose it’s too much to hope for that she’s having a lie down after her journey, so that we can just sneak in?’

  ‘Indeed, m’lady, Lady Belvedere was most anxious to see you as soon as you arrived and is waiting for you in the drawing room.’

  ‘Oh, fiddlesticks! Well, I suppose we had better get it over with. Rose, you mustn’t let her intimidate you. She’ll try and talk down to you, as if you were one of her servants. You mustn’t stand for it. Pretend she’s one of those awkward customers that we get in the shop sometimes; you’re ever so good at knowing how to handle them.’

  Rose took a deep breath and followed Lavinia into the drawing room.

  Perhaps not surprisingly, given Sir William’s and Lady Withers’ position, it was the grand décor of the room, rather than the rather matronly figure of a woman perched very upright on a striped patterned regency chair, that initially caught Rose’s attention. The drawing room, with its almost double height ceiling, plasterwork frieze over the doorway and fine marble fireplace framed by a large, highly ornate gilt mantle mirror, was papered in a duck egg coloured damask wallpaper. The room was dual aspect with two sets of double French windows, each opening out onto a stone terrace which, as far as Rose could tell, went all the way around the house. Heavy gold brocade silk curtains, complete with swags, framed the French windows. The room itself contained a selection of richly upholstered armchairs and sofas in raw silk or velvet. Highly polished mahogany occasional tables were scattered around the room, on which were displayed a selection of photographs in silver frames and bunches of freshly cut roses and other in season flowers from the grounds in lead crystal vases. Paintings by one or two of the lesser known masters decorated the walls; the overall feel of the room was of elegance and understated opulence.

  It was only when Rose had fully taken in the splendour of her surroundings that she focused her attention on the Countess of Belvedere. Lavinia had advanced forward to greet her mother and while Lady Belvedere was berating her daughter, Rose had the opportunity to take in the countess’s appearance, relatively unobserved. Lavinia had spoken often of her mother having been considered a great beauty in her youth, but in Rose’s view there was little evidence of this now. She could see that there was a faint family resemblance between Lady Belvedere and her sister in that they had the same colour of very dark brown, almost black, hair which had mostly turned to a shade of iron grey, but whereas Lady Withers was slender and almost doll like in physique, Lady Belvedere was stout with a plump face and sagging jaw line. Even had she remained silent, Rose could have told by the sour expression on her face that her nature was cold and spiteful; clearly there did not seem much love lost between mother and daughter as Lavinia approached her cautiously, as if anticipating a trap and Lady Belvedere in turn looked at her with annoyance. To Rose’s eye, Lady Belvedere was dressed in a fashion more associated with the Edwardian era with her lace cuffs and high-necked collar, complete with straw hat decorated with ribbons and feathers. In her right hand she clutched a cane although it was not to aid her in walking, for Rose was to find that she was surprisingly agile and quick for a woman of her age and build, but rather she used her cane for emphasis by tapping it on the ground to make her point or show her disapproval.

  ‘Mother, how are you?’ Lavinia had crossed the room to bend and kiss her mother’s cheek as the woman in question remained sitting. ‘I did not expect to see you here, what made you decide to come and stay with Aunt Connie this weekend of all weekends?’

  ‘Obviously you did not expect to see me otherwise you would have changed your arrangements, and my intention in coming here was to see you, as well you could have guessed.’

  Rose hovered by the door somewhat taken aback by the exchange between the two women. Clearly there was to be no pretence by either that they were particularly pleased
to see the other. Lavinia, Rose noticed, was agitated, first looking down at her shoes to avoid her mother’s eye, then glancing around the room as if seeking salvation, and then fiddling with her enamelled mesh bag, obviously wanting to be anywhere than where she was.

  ‘Mother, if you’ve come here to –.’

  ‘Quiet, Lavinia; now you listen to me.’ Lady Belvedere tapped her cane on the floor for emphasis and the sound was clearly audible throughout the room, notwithstanding the rug. ‘This nonsense has gone on for quite long enough. I want you to stop it now. You have had five seasons as a debutante and you are still to find a suitable husband. How are you to marry a man of equal, if not senior rank to your father, if you go about working in a dress shop? You know I have my heart set on your becoming a duchess or a marchioness. What man of title will be interested in marrying you now? You must put these ridiculous, childish games aside and act like a young lady. Have you any idea of the ridicule you have opened us all up to as a family with your antics? Why, even Mrs Booth had the audacity to tell me that it would be quite unthinkable for anyone in her circle to serve in a shop, as if somehow she was above me because my daughter did just that; the very cheek of the woman!’

  ‘I’m sorry, mother, but I –.’

  ‘Don’t interrupt, Lavinia, or try to make excuses for your behaviour. It all stops now, do you hear me? And who is this person loitering by the door who you have failed to introduce to me? I assume it’s one of your fellow shop girls?’

  ‘Yes, yes, oh, Rose ….Rose, I’m sorry I forgot...’ Lavinia, in a clearly distracted state, turned and beckoned Rose to come over and be introduced to her mother. Rose wondered why the countess had even enquired after her, because the way she was speaking to her daughter clearly indicated that Lady Belvedere considered the two of them alone, or as good as alone, in that Rose was somehow invisible or not worthy of consideration. This impression was not altered when Rose walked over and Lady Belvedere looked her up and down with a look of barely disguised contempt. The countess, with a very slight tilt of her head, gave her the briefest of acknowledgments, so brief in fact that Rose half wondered whether she had imagined it.