Murder in the Drawing Room

by C. J. Archer

  I remained silent as I added a macaron to the plate at the next trolley.

  “If you do go through with it, it will open up a lot of doors for you,” she said quietly as another lady joined us. “You’ll have a wider choice.”

  “If you’re referring to finding a husband, I don’t plan to marry.”

  “So I recall you saying. But you may change your mind. If you insist on avoiding a court presentation, however, I want you to know there are some gentlemen who will overlook it.”

  Did she not hear how that sounded? Or was she deaf to the inference? I turned to her with a tight smile. “Perhaps I don’t want a husband who will consider it something that needs to be overlooked.” I marched off across the room and handed the plate to Aunt Lilian.

  She thanked me and proceeded to eat with passionate endeavor, as if she’d not eaten all day. When finished, she asked for more.

  The conversation over lunch didn’t stray far from the upcoming social season, and the girls who were expected to be this year’s most dazzling debutantes. Apparently the main requirement was that she be exceedingly pretty. The secondary requirements were in no particular order of importance, but consisted of being demure but not shy, small-waisted, well-mannered, not too tall, an excellent conversationalist but not to the point where she dominated, witty, sensible, and well-read.

  “But not too intelligent as to bore the young men,” one of the ladies said with a laugh.

  Not a single gaze fell on me, but they might as well have. The laugh suddenly died and the resulting silence was rather stifling until finally my aunt broke it by mentioning the downfall of one young lady in last year’s crop whose feather plumes drooped forward as she curtsied to the princess. When she rose, the plumes did not right themselves and continued to veil her eyes. She cried for an hour afterwards.

  I managed to endure the rest of the afternoon as the card playing resumed. As six o’clock approached, Aunt Lilian was clearly flagging again. She slumped further in the chair with each passing hour, and pressed her fingers into her temple after each round. She lost often until Flossy took over playing for her.

  “Why don’t you retire for the day?” I gently suggested as I handed her a glass of water.

  “I can’t abandon my guests, Cleo. It’s much too early. A drive around Hyde Park will wake me up.”

  “It’ll drown you in this weather,” Lady Caldicott said. She signaled to Mrs. Digby with a small nod and both women claimed it was time to leave.

  Aunt Lilian pouted. “Already?”

  “You’re not well, Lilian,” Lady Caldicott said gently.

  Aunt Lilian pressed both hands to the table and heaved herself to her feet. “I’ll be fine after I take my tonic.”

  “No, Mother,” Flossy urged in a whisper. “You’ve had enough.”

  Lady Caldicott glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. I shook my head. “Come along, Ladies,” she said, rising. “Lilian needs her rest. Doctor’s orders.”

  Aunt Lilian opened her mouth as if to protest again, but thought better of it. Protesting further would sound desperate, and she didn’t want that. She accepted their thanks for an enjoyable afternoon and watched as they filed out of the door.

  Lady Caldicott was last to leave. She took my aunt’s arm and walked with her across the room. “Listen to your daughter and niece and rest, Lilian.”

  Aunt Lilian smiled as her friend left the room. Then she turned on Flossy and me, eyes flashing and nostrils flaring. “The tonic would have worked,” she snapped. “You ruined my party. Both of you. Kindly stay out of my affairs in future. My health is my concern, not yours, and if I say I am well, then I am well. I don’t need you two treating me like an elderly invalid.”

  Flossy took a step towards her, her eyes filled with tears, but her mother hurried away, a hand pressed to the side of her head.

  I put my arm around Flossy’s shoulders. “Pay her no heed. You know how irritable she is when the tonic initially wears off. She’ll regret her words in the morning.”

  Flossy gave a shuddery sigh. “I know.”

  “Now, are we dining in the dining room tonight or in your room?”

  “The dining room. I feel like being seen.” She caught my hand, the tears already gone. “Shall we go for a drive on our own? Mother won’t mind if we’re together.”

  “All right.”

  She lightly clapped her hands as she bounced on her toes. “Marvelous. We can talk about your gown for the presentation, and what gowns you ought to have made for all the balls. Your debut will be such fun, Cleo.”

  I silently groaned and allowed her to drag me out of the sitting room.

  I’d hoped to find an ally in Harmony, but she proved to be as deaf to my refusals as Flossy. She was convinced that being a debutante and having a court presentation was something I ought to do.

  “It’s customary for ladies like you,” she said as she removed the lid covering our breakfast tray.

  I glared at her over my coffee cup but she was too intent on distributing the sausages onto our plates to notice. “I am nobody, Harmony. My cousin is somebody; I am not. That suits me quite well, thank you.”

  “Why do you keep saying that you’re nobody? Look around you. Look where you live.”

  My suite was elegant but thankfully not opulent. The furniture was well made, the room well-appointed with all the modern amenities I could wish for, including an ensuite bathroom. The bed was far too large for one person, and I had hotel staff at my beck and call. It was easy to see how Harmony would think me wealthy or important. But none of the luxuries I lived amongst were paid for by me.

  I decided not to quarrel with her about it, however. Compared to her, I was fortunate. “My meeting with Mr. Armitage went well yesterday.”

  She humphed.

  “I know you don’t like him, although I’m not sure why.”

  “I don’t dislike him. He’s just too sure of himself and that note he wrote to you was quite curt. He didn’t thank you for your help.”

  I accepted the plate she offered and attacked the sausage with the knife and fork. “He thanked me in person and explained that he didn’t like accepting all of the accolades when he did nothing to deserve them.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s another thing. He’s too proud.”

  “Perhaps this will make you more inclined to like him. He offered me some cases to investigate on my own.”

  She paused with a forkful of sausage near her lips. “Will he let you have any of the glory of solving them or will he take it all himself?”

  “The cases are all mine. He gave them to me. I won’t be working for him.”

  “Oh. Well then.” She concentrated on slicing up the sausage and not looking at me. I suspected that was the kindest words I’d hear from her mouth where Harry Armitage was concerned.

  “I approached four of the five potential clients, but none wanted to work with me,” I went on.

  She looked up. “Because you’re a woman?” When I nodded, she rolled her eyes. “And the fifth?”

  “He paid me half up front. I started yesterday.”

  “Congratulations! That deserves another sausage.”

  “I’d prefer an egg.”

  She passed me one of the boiled eggs and an eggcup then refilled my coffee cup, and I told her all about the Warrington case. I had to explain how divorces worked, and that Mrs. Warrington would not be left impoverished, as long as she was married after the law changed. “She brought property and wealth to the union, which she’ll keep.”

  “So he doesn’t get to keep all her money if they married after the new law, but he does if they married before?”

  I nodded.

  She considered this for some time as she sipped her coffee. I waited for her to speak, but she remained silent. She simply watched me over the rim of her cup with those dark eyes until I felt as though I was being swallowed by them.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” I blurted out. “You’re thinking that if they m
arried before the law changed, I will be a willing participant in making her an impoverished woman.”

  She blinked. “No. I was wondering why he would divorce her at all.”

  “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I suppose he’s doing it because his wife is unfaithful.”

  “But only he knows that. If he goes through with a divorce, everyone will know. I thought politicians hated scandal.”

  She had a point, but the fact was, he wanted a divorce. “I’m going to call at their house today and speak to the butler. Hopefully he can tell me what her movements were and I can follow them up. If I can get the name of her lover, it’ll help the case.”

  “You need to speak to her lady’s maid.”

  “Lady’s maids are not likely to gossip about their mistress’s whereabouts to a stranger. She knows who her employer is, and it’s not Mr. Warrington.”

  “Have you asked Mr. Hobart if Mrs. Warrington ever came here with her lover? Sometimes women like that do. Not many, not nearly in the same number as their husbands, but some.”

  “I showed him a photograph Mr. Warrington gave me. He didn’t recognize her. Nor did Peter or Goliath, but I didn’t ask Frank.”

  “I’ll do it. I’ll ask the other staff too.” She sliced the top off her egg and scooped out the hard-boiled yolk. “I could ask Victor when he comes in. I don’t want to ask him, mind, but I’ll do it for you and your investigation.”

  I sipped my coffee to hide my smile. Once my features were schooled, I set the cup down. “No need to go to any bother.”

  “Speaking to him is a bother, I agree, but I’m prepared to do it. Someone must, and better me than you. You have no reason to be in the kitchen.”

  She was making it very hard for me to keep a straight face. Thankfully she was concentrating on her egg and not looking at me. “But what could Victor tell you? The cooks never see the guests.”

  “They like to gossip as much as the rest of us. Probably more. It’s all that heat and spices. It loosens the tongue.”

  Unable to hold it anymore, I chuckled into my coffee cup.

  Harmony sniffed. “It’s true. Men gossip just as much as women.”

  “Indeed. Have you finished with breakfast? I want to get on and interview the Warringtons’ butler.”

  She followed me into the bedroom and quickly worked to arrange my hair in a simple yet elegant style, a Harmony specialty. She always managed to make me look good and I told her so.

  She rolled her eyes. “You have easy hair. Unlike mine.” She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror and teased out one of the tight black springs that framed her pretty face.

  “Your hair is beautiful,” I said. “One of these days I want to see what it looks like when its loose.”

  I gave her the photograph of Mrs. Warrington to show around to the other staff members then together we made the bed. She left carrying the breakfast tray. A few minutes later, I left too.

  I met Flossy and Floyd in the corridor, waiting for the lift to arrive. It was early for both of them. Floyd had been out with friends the previous night, which usually meant he got out of bed late the following morning. Flossy was just generally a late starter.

  “Do you have plans together?” I asked as I waited with them.

  Brother and sister looked appalled at the idea of spending time with one another. “I’ve got a meeting with a man from a motor car company,” Floyd said.

  Flossy gasped. “You’re not getting one! Mother will have an attack of hysteria if you do, and Father will grumble about the cost.”

  “I have my own money to do with as I please. Anyway, I’m not buying one. The engineering is still in its infancy and the traffic in London is horrendous. A motor car could never reach its top speed going down Piccadilly, and if it can’t go fast, what’s the point? I’m considering investing in this fellow’s company. Motor cars are the way of the future.”

  Flossy shook her head. “Smelly, noisy, death traps if you ask me.”

  Floyd sighed theatrically. “I was going to ask you to join me, but if you feel that way about them you obviously won’t want to come.”

  The door to the lift opened and John’s smiling face greeted us. He bade us each good morning and we piled in.

  The slow descent was smooth, if a little crowded, and silent except for the whirring of the mechanisms.

  “What are you up to this morning, Flossy?” I asked to fill the silence.

  “I’m heading downstairs for breakfast. I forgot to put my order in last night.”

  “You should put in a standing order,” I told her.

  “I tried that and the kitchen kept forgetting. You must be special.” She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “Where are you off to anyway?”

  “The museum,” I said, without skipping a beat. It was the only place I could think of where I knew she wouldn’t ask to come with me.

  “Again? Honestly, Cleo, haven’t you absorbed enough knowledge yet? You’ve been so many times I’ve lost count. In fact, you were there just yesterday.”

  “I thought you went to the dentist,” Floyd said to me with a smug look on his face.

  “I did both.”

  “Perhaps she meets someone at the museum,” Floyd said to his sister.

  I scowled at him and the rascal winked back.

  Two could play at this game. If he wanted to tease me, I would tease him right back. “Perhaps you’re meeting one of your lady friends this morning, instead of a motor car manufacturer, and that’s why you’re up early.”

  “If he is, she’s hardly a lady if he has to lie about seeing her,” Flossy pointed out.

  Floyd crossed his arms. “Come with me and see.”

  “All right,” Flossy said.

  His face fell. “You just said motor cars are noisy, smelly and dangerous and you want nothing to do with them.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted nothing to do with them. Will the fellow let you drive one?”

  “He says he’ll take me for a drive.”

  “Excellent.” The door slid open on the ground floor but Flossy didn’t get out with Floyd and me. “I’ll fetch my coat and gloves and meet you back here in a jiffy. Cleo, will you come too? It will be much more fun than the museum. We can each take turns.”

  Floyd thrust his hands on his hips. “You are not coming with me.”

  “We have nothing better to do. Cleo?”

  “I prefer the museum,” I said.

  “Suit yourself.” She asked John to take her back up to the fourth floor. As the door slid closed, she pointed at her brother. “If you don’t wait for me, I’ll tell Father something that will get you into trouble.”

  The door closed before he could retort. He turned to me with a bemused expression. “I can’t believe I let her talk me into taking her. She’ll hate every minute of it.”

  “She must be bored.”

  “Entertaining her is your department, not mine.” He clasped my elbow and gave me the most desperate look. “Take her to the museum with you. Please, Cleo. I’ll pay for your entry.”

  “It’s free.”

  “Really?”

  I patted his shoulder. “Enjoy your day.”

  He groaned. “You two are conspiring against me. I’m convinced of it. I thought having one sister was bad enough, but it’s double the irritation with two.”

  I walked off, unable to hide my grin. Floyd thought of me like a sister. It was more than I’d let myself hope for.

  The Warringtons’ Kensington house was identical to its neighbors on either side, except for its green front door. All three were covered only half way in white stucco with a bay window protruding from what must be the drawing rooms. The two levels above were unclad, and the exposed cream brick made the houses look handsome rather than pretty. The only difference between the houses were the door colors. The neighboring ones were black and blue.

  Following Mr. Warrington’s instructions, I headed down the steps to the basement and knocked on the service entrance
. The housekeeper answered but refused to fetch the butler upon my request.

  “Mr. Henderson is busy,” she snapped. She screwed up her eyes and squinted at me. The closer scrutiny must have helped her see that I was dressed as a lady, not a maid or shopkeeper because her tone softened to a more deferential one. “Can I help you, Mrs…”

  “Miss Fox. I have an appointment with Mr. Henderson this morning. He’s expecting me.”

  She opened the door wider and asked me to go through to the office at the end of the corridor. “I’ll fetch him for you.”

  The butler’s office was little bigger than a larder. When Mr. Henderson arrived, he could hardly fit around the gap between the desk and cabinet to take his seat. Despite the lack of space, there were three cabinets squeezed into the room. That must be where the best silver and wine were kept, under lock and key.

  Mr. Henderson was a tall, straight-backed man of about forty, with a square jaw and broad shoulders. His face would be considered handsome if it wasn’t set into a scowl. He regarded me down his nose with a look which could only be described as disdainful.

  “Thank you for meeting—”

  “Mr. Warrington told me to co-operate fully with your inquiries,” he said, cutting me off. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “I took the liberty of collating a list of places Mrs. Warrington visited in recent days. You may take it and leave.”

  I scanned the column of addresses. He might be bad-tempered, but at least he was helpful. “Is this a complete list or just the places you know about?”

  His lips thinned. “I have complete authority in this house. The staff cooperated fully with my request.”

  “Even Mrs. Warrington’s lady’s maid?”

  “Even her.” He drew a cloth-covered ledger from the corner of the desk closer to him. “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

  “Actually I do mind. I have some questions for you.”

  He opened the ledger and picked out a pen resting in the stand. “Be as brief as possible.”

  I sucked in a breath between gritted teeth. So much for being cooperative. “How long have you known Mrs. Warrington?”