‘Would that be such a bad thing, Cedric? Wouldn’t you like to have me for a brother-in-law?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that Lavinia was really your type, old man. As for having you for a brother-in-law, I wouldn’t mind so long as you promised to treat my sister well.’ There was a slight edge to Lord Sedgwick’s voice, which implied that he might have certain reservations about such a connection; this was not lost on Lord Sneddon, who looked annoyed.
‘Enough of this marriage talk, Cedric. We’re here to have fun, aren’t we? Harmless fun, of course,’ he added as he saw the warning look on Cedric’s face. ‘Anyway, enough about me, now what about you and Miss Simpson? Made quite an impact on you, I wager.’
‘She certainly seems to be a remarkable young lady.’
‘Really? I would have said that her sort are two a penny, but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste. You, on the other hand, are quite a catch. Not so much as me, of course,’ he laughed and Cedric decided to take what he was saying as a joke rather than to take offence. Not for the first time, however, he wondered whether their friendship had run its course. Hugh might be a good nine or ten years older than him, but Cedric was beginning to consider him rather shallow and irresponsible.
‘Right,’ said Sir William suddenly coming out of his reverie, ‘shall we join the ladies? I say, Henry, are you feeling alright?
‘What?’ enquired Lord Belvedere, clearly startled. ’Oh, yes of course, just feeling a bit tired after the journey, don’t you know. Marjorie would insist that we set off at first light. Couldn’t see the need for the rush myself, but you know what women are like.’
‘How did she know we’d be down at Ashgrove this weekend, Father?’ asked Cedric. ‘I was careful to keep Lavinia’s impending visit from my letters and Hugh and I only decided at the last minute to come down.’
‘You know what your mother’s like, she has her ways of finding things out. If you and your sister came to Sedgwick more often, she wouldn’t resort to such measures. Really Cedric, your mother misses you dreadfully when you’re away; Lavinia too, of course.’
‘Well she has a funny way of showing it,’ retorted Cedric.
‘I suppose it was her idea that you come down to Ashgrove this weekend,’ queried Sir William, sharply.
‘Of course. What are you saying, William?’
‘I just wondered,’ said Sir William, ‘whether it might have been yours.’
The coffee cups, which had previously been heated, had been placed on a tray with the cream jug, milk and basin of sugar. The footman entered the drawing room with a smaller tray, on which were coffee and liqueurs. The women helped themselves to coffee and seated themselves comfortably on the various settees and chairs dotted around the room. Only Lady Belvedere remained standing, clutching her coffee cup. Lavinia and Rose not surprisingly had chosen to sit together, as had Lady Withers and Edith.
‘I do hope the men will be joining us shortly,’ whispered Lavinia, ‘I’m worried that any second now Mother will wonder over and have another go at me about working. At least when Cedric’s here he can distract her, he’s her golden boy.’
‘Edith, are you quite recovered now, my dear?’ enquired Lady Withers, half-heartedly. ‘I’m so glad. Now tell me, did you happen to go to Chelsea Flower Show this year? I didn’t manage to, I’m afraid, what with one thing and another. I understand that it didn’t have any outstanding features, but that the general standard of floral collections and the variety of plants shown were both excellent. I read somewhere that this year the main exhibits were housed in one large marquee instead of the usual two tents, such a good idea, far more convenient for viewing them and much more space. Bridges, our gardener, is particularly interested in novelties in roses; he’s always trying to persuade me to introduce new roses to our rose garden, but I keep telling him that I like the old-fashioned ones, don’t you?’
‘Poor Edith,’ said Lavinia looking over towards them, ‘Aunt seems to be boring her to tears. I can’t understand why she’s prattling on so much about the most boring things. Of course, with Edith it is always difficult to find something to talk about, she’s always so jolly sensitive about everything.’
‘And how is that husband of yours, Edith? What a pity he couldn’t come down this weekend. William and I are always saying what a very nice chap he is and of course he’s absolutely devoted to you, anyone can see that.’
‘Harold Torrington is one of the most dull men you’ll ever meet, Rose,’ said Lavinia, ‘I’m jolly glad that he hasn’t come down with Edith. Aunt is talking absolute rubbish. I know for a fact that she finds Edith’s husband insufferably boring. As do we all. I imagine that Edith’s quite glad to get the chance of a weekend away from him. Oh do look at Mother. Why does she have to look so disgruntled all the time? You’d think she’d make the effort to go over and talk to Edith, even if they did have a bit of a falling out years ago. Really, it’s absolutely ages since they last saw each other.’
‘Lavinia, everyone seems a little wary of Mrs Torrington, do you know why?’ enquired Rose.
‘Do they?’ Lavinia looked surprised. ‘I can’t think why. I’ve always found her rather ineffectual and insipid myself. She always looks so fragile, as if she’s about to break or burst into tears. I do hope she won’t spoil the weekend for us. But enough talk about her. I’d much rather talk about what we’re going to do tomorrow. I told you, didn’t I that Ceddie and Hugh were talking about taking a picnic to the lake? Oh, I say, I’ve just had a thought. Aunt?’ Lavinia raised her voice so that Lady Withers could hear. ‘Have you still got your circular croquet garden? It’s just occurred to me that it might be fun to have a game or two of croquet tomorrow.’
‘Yes, dear, we still have it, although it hasn’t been used for absolutely ages. I think the last time was ten or so years ago on an occasion when you came to stay, Edith. But Bridges is very diligent. He always keeps it closely mowed so there shouldn’t be any problem if you wish to play.’
‘Yes, I remember it now,’ Edith said. They were the first words Rose had heard her utter since she had come in to the drawing room. ‘It’s quite far from the house, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, a fair walk I suppose,’ agreed Lady Withers, rather vaguely. ‘One can’t see it at all from the house; it’s quite hidden by the yew hedge. You know what they say, out of sight, out of mind, what.’
‘Yes, exactly,’ mumbled Edith, and no-one else was near enough to see the gleam in her eye.
Chapter Thirteen
The gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room and helped themselves to coffee and liqueurs. Their arrival helped to encourage the guests to mingle and the atmosphere in the room to lighten, although Rose thought that she still detected a tension in the air. It was almost as if everyone was trying just a bit too hard. She herself felt like an observer, watching from the shadows to see how those in another world behaved. She watched as Lord Sneddon gravitated towards Lavinia, and saw how her friend giggled in delight as the countess looked on. Of all those present, Rose found Lady Belvedere’s demeanour most unnerving, for gone was the strongly opinionated woman of the afternoon and instead, in her place, was a woman who was watchful and calculating, a woman who feared the worst. She remembered Lady Belvedere’s expression when she had first encountered Edith in the morning-room and the way timid, quiet little Edith had stood up to her and that the countess had backed away as if she were afraid.
Lord Belvedere was deep in conversation with his son and Lady Withers took the opportunity to come over to Rose.
‘He is very handsome isn’t he, my dear,’ Constance said, ‘Cedric I mean, not Lord Sneddon, although he is a very good looking young man as well. ‘
‘Yes, indeed.’
‘My sister has high hopes for Cedric, of course. As the only son he will inherit his father’s title in due course and manage his great estates. She’ll want him to marry the eldest daughter of a duke or else money, which in these times means an American heiress as likel
y as not. I don’t mean to pry or interfere, my dear, but I cannot help but notice the way you look at him. Cedric is a dear boy, he is always very pleasing and attentive company, it is his way, but you must not read any more into it than that.’
Rose felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment and humiliation. Had she really been so obvious? Lord Sneddon had gone over to speak to Cedric. Lavinia, catching Rose’s eye came over, apparently concerned.
‘Are you alright, Rose? You do look awfully flushed; I suppose it has been a long day. I was going to suggest that we stay up but I’m tired too, so when Aunt announces that she is going to retire for the night, I think we should too. I want to have loads of energy for tomorrow. Oh, its suddenly got cold in here, hasn’t it, I wish I’d brought a wrap down with me. I suppose I could ring for a servant, but I expect that they’ve all retired to bed by now. Still, I expect if I pull the bell pull - ’
‘I’ll get it for you, Lavinia,’ offered Rose, eager for the chance to be by herself for a few minutes.
‘Would you? Oh, you are a dear. I think it’s laid across the chair in my bedroom, you can’t miss it.’
Rose quickly left the room. A few moments later, another guest who had watched her departure with interest, also made his exit.
‘You truly excelled yourself, Mrs Palmer, as you always do on occasions like this,’ the butler assured the cook-housekeeper.
‘Oh, do you think so, Mr Stafford?’ Mrs Palmer beamed, obviously pleased by his praise. ‘The meal did all seem to come together in the end, despite us being so short staffed. I’ll say this for Bessie and little Edna, they certainly pulled their weight today, no stopping to gossip. Well, we’ll find out tomorrow morning whether her ladyship was pleased when I go through the menu for the day with her. However, I couldn’t help but notice, Mr Stafford, by the dishes that were brought back that one diner seemed hardly to have touched their food. Perhaps it wasn’t to their liking?’
‘That would be Mrs Torrington,’ replied the butler. ‘But I wouldn’t read anything into it with regard to your food, Mrs Palmer. The lady in question appeared quite off-colour and out of sorts tonight, the effect of seeing Lord Sedgwick again I would imagine, most unfortunate.’
‘Poor woman, she’s been through a lot, as you and I well know, Mr Stafford.’
‘Indeed. I would of course say this only to you, Mrs Palmer, but there seemed rather an odd atmosphere at dinner tonight. It was almost as if everyone was waiting for something to happen.’
‘It’s not like you to be fanciful, Mr Stafford. I expect that it’s more to do with that they’re such a strange assortment of guests. If her ladyship had had more of a choice in the matter, I doubt whether she would have thought to invite them all down together.’
‘I’m sure that must be it, Mrs Palmer. All the same, I think I’ll just take a last stroll into the drawing room and check that all’s well before I call it a night.’
The wrap was not on the chair, as Lavinia had described, but lay discarded across the bed. Rose picked it up, cast a quick glance around the room, noticing once again the opulence of it in comparison with her own and left. She walked across the landing and went quickly down the first flight of stairs to the landing below. She was just making her way towards the main staircase down to the hall when an imposing figure appeared from out of the darkness, barring her way.
‘Lord Sneddon, you startled me. I didn’t see you there.’
‘Evidently not. Come, Miss Simpson; may I call you Rose and you must call me Hugh. There’s no need to look so alarmed, you know, I’m not going to eat you.’
‘Please let me get past, Lord Sneddon, er, Hugh. I must get back to the drawing room. Lavinia will be wondering where I am.’ It was evident from his speech that Lord Sneddon had had a fair amount to drink and Rose could feel herself becoming anxious.
‘What’s the rush? I think dear Lavinia is far more likely to be concerned about my absence than yours, don’t you? But I’d rather like to have a chat with you just now. You’ve certainly made an impression on young Cedric. Was that your aim? I can’t see what he sees in you, myself, but perhaps you have some hidden qualities that you’d like to show me.’
‘Let me pass, Lord Sneddon.’ Rose tried to keep the panic out of her voice.
‘You needn’t play hard to get with me, giving yourself airs and graces,’ Lord Sneddon said, angrily. ‘You’re just a common little shop girl; two a penny, my dear. I can get a girl like you, anytime, anywhere; they’re queuing up for me.’
‘Well, I’m not. So I suggest –.’ Rose broke off suddenly as she heard a cough. Both she and Lord Sneddon swung around to see from whence it came. From out of the shadows on the far side of the landing, emerged the butler.
‘Excuse me my lord, Lord Sedgwick was just asking where you were.’
‘Good God, man, where did you spring from? You weren’t there a moment ago, I’d swear on it. I’ll be down in a minute. Miss Simpson and I were just having a nice little chat.’
Stafford did not move.
‘Well, get on man,’ said Lord Sneddon, irritably.
‘No, sir, I don’t think so. Not unless I am accompanying Miss Simpson to the drawing room.’
‘Why you impertinent –.’ Lord Sneddon glared at them both. ‘You’ll pay for this, Stafford, see if you don’t.’ He turned on his heel and marched down the stairs angrily.
‘Thank you, Mr Stafford, I don’t know what I would have done if –.’
‘Think nothing of it, miss. Not wishing to speak out of turn, but I would suggest that you lock your door tonight.’
‘Oh, there you are, Rose,’ said Lavinia when Rose returned to the drawing room. Lord Sneddon, Rose noticed, was making a show of talking to Sir William as if nothing had happened. ‘I thought you’d got lost. Wasn’t the wrap where I said it would be?’
Later that night when Rose retired to bed, she made sure to lock her door. For good measure, she also leaned a chair against it, but thought moving the dressing table as well was perhaps going a step too far.
Chapter Fourteen
Rose awoke early the next morning, her head heavy due to having slept fitfully during the night. Her sleep had been peppered with dreams of someone trying to get into her room, which had caused her to awake with a start on several occasions, the fear still with her so that she had felt compelled to get out of bed each time and try her door to reassure herself that it was well and truly locked.
Looking at her wristwatch, which lay on the bedside table, Rose saw that it was only a quarter to six and that, while the day was just beginning for the servants, indeed for some it was probably well underway, she had a full two hours before she needed to think about getting up. Reason told her that she should stay in bed and try to make up for the sleep she had lost. She had been informed by Lavinia that breakfast was served at nine at Ashgrove and that the maid would wake her at a quarter to eight with a cup of tea, so there was no fear of her oversleeping. Her clothes for the day would be laid out for her and the maid would tap discreetly on her door to advise her when her bath was ready. She was unused to such luxury and felt that she should make the most of it. Accordingly, she settled down in her bed and willed sleep to come, or at least to be only half awake.
Sleep, however, would not come and after twenty minutes had elapsed, Rose gave up trying. It seemed to her then that the best thing to do would be to take a walk around the grounds, which she hoped would help to clear her head. It was still so early that she did not fear coming across Lord Sneddon lurking half hidden behind a rose bush, and so she stole out of her room and down the staircases, across the hall and out through one of the French windows, which she closed carefully behind her. She walked out on to the terrace and around the perimeter of the formal gardens, skirting the courtyard garden and the kitchen garden with its espaliered fruit trees, until she came to the circular croquet lawn. This lawn, she discovered, was enclosed by a yew hedge which, together with the lawn’s distance from the house, provided it with a d
egree of privacy which was lacking in the formal gardens. Lady Withers, she remembered, had remarked only the evening before how seldom the croquet lawn was used and it occurred to Rose that, given the early hour, it might be a good place for her to stop and gather her thoughts in preparation for the day ahead.
Uppermost in her mind was Lord Sneddon’s conduct towards her the evening before. That he had been drunk, she was in little doubt, but it did not excuse his behaviour towards her. The most worrying aspect she found was imagining what might have happened had not Stafford come to her rescue. Despite the sunshine and the fact that she was wrapped up in a thick coat, she shivered. The possibility that her friend might marry such a man filled her with dread, and she felt duty bound to warn Lavinia before it was too late. However, she did not relish the prospect for she was afraid that her friend was likely to be dismissive and consider her in some way to blame.
She walked the perimeter of the yew hedge, marvelling at both its height, which meant that she was unable to see over it even on tiptoes, and also how thickly grown the hedge was so that she could not see through it to the croquet lawn beyond. She was just approaching the entrance to the croquet lawn when she heard voices. Instinctively she stopped, hesitating as to what to do next. It was still only a quarter to seven which seemed to her a strange hour to arrange a meeting, and the voices she realised now were raised, not so much in argument but more as if the speakers were each trying to get their own points over and were fearing interruption from the other.
Chapter Fifteen
Edith, talk sense,’ said a man’s voice that Rose could not immediately recognise. ‘Think what you’re suggesting. If you do what you’re proposing, you’ll hurt a number of people, is that really what you want?’
01 - Murder at Ashgrove House Page 12
