03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court Page 2

  But Rose had not been fooled. Lavinia did not want her there. And something else, she was sure of it; her being there had upset Lavinia’s plans.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Oh, Ceddie, I’ve missed you terribly,’ exclaimed Lavinia, disentangling herself from her brother’s embrace. ‘I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back here at Sedgwick, darling Sedgwick. I had a ball on the Continent, an absolute ball, but it’s so good to be home, I can’t tell you.’

  ‘I say, Lavinia, you do look awfully well. But why ever didn’t you write to say you’d be coming home, or send a telegram or something?’ asked Cedric, holding her by the shoulders a little away from him so that he could take in her appearance. ‘You could have telephoned.’

  ‘Really, Ceddie, must you go on and on about it?’ Lavinia laughed. ‘If you must know, I only decided at the very last minute to come home. I had a sudden longing for Sedgwick and to see you too, of course. And then I thought what an awfully wonderful surprise it would be for you, me being home in time for Christmas.’

  Lavinia looked up and feigned surprise as if she had only just become aware of Rose’s existence. Rose meanwhile stood hovering awkwardly in the background.

  ‘Why, Rose darling,’ Lavinia said, ‘I didn’t see you there hiding in the shadows. This is a surprise,’ she paused deliberately before adding: ‘A wonderful one, of course.’

  Cedric beamed, looked at Rose and grinned, his eyes shining. How easily he was taken in by his sister, Rose thought, and she felt a sudden stab of tenderness towards him. It wasn’t that he was naïve or simply couldn’t see Lavinia for what she was. Rose knew he just desperately wanted Lavinia to accept their relationship, which had developed in her prolonged absence.

  ‘Hello Lavinia.’ Rose said the words as warmly as she could muster, although her feeling of uneasiness had grown, spreading over her like a veil and making her feel a little sick.

  ‘I must look a fright,’ Lavinia was saying to Cedric. ‘I’ve been travelling all day. I simply haven’t stopped for a moment, I was far too anxious to see you and be back here. You know what I’m like once I’ve set my mind to something, impatient and all that. Why, I think Torridge was even shocked by my appearance when he first saw me, weren’t you?’ She flung a somewhat affectionate look at the head-butler, who was doing his best to protest while at the same time not wishing to appear to contradict his mistress. An impossible task by anyone’s standards.

  ‘Now, I really must wash and have a little lie down, or I’ll be fit for absolutely nothing. You wouldn’t believe how tiring travelling is, it absolutely drains one. Torridge, tell me, is my room ready for me, say it is?’

  The butler nodded in a rather hesitant fashion, Rose thought. No doubt there had been a great deal of activity going on among the servants in the time between Lavinia’s unexpected arrival and her journey towards them through the gardens and parkland. In her mind’s eye, Rose saw the housekeeper and housemaids scurrying around busily in Lavinia’s room like ants, polishing and dusting, putting out fresh linen, using an Electrolux suction cleaner on the carpet, sweeping the grate and laying the fire.

  ‘Do come with me, Rose,’ Lavinia said carelessly over her shoulder as if it were some throw away remark. Rose did her best to hide her surprise. ‘It would be so nice to have a little chat after all this time,’ Lavinia continued. ‘And you can fill me in on all the gossip. You can tell me all about Madame Renard and her dreadful little dress shop.’ She stopped and turned, addressing Rose sharply as if a sudden and far from pleasing thought had suddenly occurred to her. ‘I take it you are still working in Madame Renard’s shop?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ said Rose casting a last look at Cedric before setting off in Lavinia’s wake. She noticed that, while he was apparently grinning, there was a slight look of apprehension on his face which he was doing his best to conceal. Perhaps, Rose thought, he is as unsettled as I am by his sister’s sudden reappearance.

  Meanwhile Lavinia had set off back to the house at quite a pace and Rose had to hurry to catch her up. She noticed that Manning was undecided as to whether he should follow them or not, while old Torridge had remained behind with his master, no doubt to discuss the revised arrangements for dinner, which Lavinia’s sudden arrival had brought about. It seemed to Rose that in those few minutes since Lavinia’s appearance everything had changed, and probably not for the better. The crisp December air which a few moments ago had been bright and embracing, now felt chilly. It was as if the very weather was waiting for something to happen. Quite ridiculous of course, Rose admonished herself for letting her fancy run away with her. Lavinia had been nothing but charming towards her, even if she had clearly hoped that only Cedric would be there at Sedgwick to greet her on her return. But one thing was certain, Rose thought, no matter how one looked at it, it certainly wasn’t going to be the quiet few days that she had envisaged.

  ‘Miss Denning, I can’t tell you how good it is to have you back,’ said Mrs Broughton, the cook at Sedgwick Court, as the lady’s maid bustled into the servants’ hall.

  ‘And good to be back it is too,’ said Eliza Denning with feeling, sinking onto one of the chairs drawn up to the table. ‘My throat’s that parched for a good, proper, English cup of tea, I can tell you, Mrs Broughton. Mustn’t complain as I know there’s many a woman in my position who’d give their right arm to travel as I’ve done these past few months. But I tell you, Mrs Broughton, those foreigners don’t know how to make a proper cup of tea, so they don’t. It’s either brewed so strong you’d swear it was treacle, or so milky you’d never think it had seen a tea leaf.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me, Miss Denning, so it doesn’t. They prefer coffee on the Continent, so I’ve heard. Horrible, strong, bitter stuff too. Now, you just sit there and take the weight off your feet, and Dolly here will get you a nice cup of tea, won’t you, girl? Why, I think I might join you.’

  She glanced at the kitchen maid, who scuttled off to fulfil the task assigned to her. Presently two steaming cups of tea and their accompanying saucers were deposited in front of the two women, and Eliza took a grateful sip.

  ‘Ah, that’s better. Honestly, Mrs Broughton, I think half the time those foreigners don’t even let the water boil, the number of lukewarm cups of tea I’ve drunk since I’ve been away.’

  ‘Well, you’re back home now,’ said the cook comfortingly, taking a sip of her own tea, ‘and that’s all that matters. Things can return to normal, or as normal as they can be with a new master in place. You’ll feel as if you’ve never been away, so you will.’

  ‘But will they?’ asked Eliza, removing her hat and depositing the hat pins on the table. ‘Return to normal, that is? I’m not so sure about that. You’ve probably not heard from Mrs Farrier yet, but her ladyship’s only gone and invited her new friends from the Continent to come and stay, hasn’t she?’

  ‘No!’ The cook looked clearly alarmed. ‘Why, Mrs Farrier’s said nothing to me about it.’

  ‘I expect she’s only just been told about it herself. I did beg m’lady to write, but she’d have none of it. She wanted to surprise her brother, so she did. Although I’d say she’s had something of a nasty surprise herself, what with Miss Simpson being here. I’m not one to gossip, as you know, but I rather think she was hoping that his lordship might set his cap at quite another young lady of her acquaintance.’

  ‘Indeed?’ said Mrs Broughton, leaning towards her conspiratorially. ‘And who might she be, when she’s at home, this young lady to whom you’re referring?’

  ‘Miss Emmeline Montacute, that’s who, heiress to the Montacute fortune. You must have heard of her surely, or her father at least? He, no I tell a lie, his father I think it was, was the founder of those great Montacute department stores you hear so much about. Them that sell readymade clothing and household items and the like. Travelling on the Continent, she was, she and her companion, just like m’lady, and they got to talking. Quite taken with each other they were. Before long everything
was “Miss Emmeline thinks this” and “Miss Emmeline thinks that” as if Lady Lavinia had known her for years. Still, I was pleased to see some colour come back into m’lady’s cheeks.’

  ‘Well, I never. And is she one of them, then, that’s coming to stay here at Sedgwick? Mrs Farrier will be tearing her hair out getting the rooms ready.’ The cook paused as her thoughts went to the housekeeper who’d already been into the servants’ hall to grumble about Lavinia’s unexpected arrival.

  ‘She is indeed, Mrs Broughton. And happen we’ll have one of those foreign counts staying under our roof as well! I tell you, it’s going to be all go here, so it is!’

  ‘Yes,’ grumbled the cook rousing herself. ‘And like as not I’ll have to go about changing the menus. What suits a shop girl and the like, is hardly likely to meet with the approval of an heiress and a count, even if he’s foreign, to say nothing of Lady Lavinia. Her ladyship likes her food all fine and dandy, so she does, not like his lordship.’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘Well, I can’t stay here gossiping, Miss Denning. Not when there’s work to be done.’ And she was gone to round up the scullery and kitchen maids, to inform them in no uncertain terms that they’d have to work their knuckles to the bone over the coming days, so they would. So they’d better start bucking their ideas up right now, or they’d have her to answer to.

  As soon as they had made their way into the house, Lavinia tore off her hat and coat and handed them to one of the waiting footmen who was conveniently lingering in the hall. Before Rose had time to take a breath, her friend was already mounting the great oak staircase, seeming to take two stairs at a time, so that Rose was forced to hurry after her, scurrying behind her like a wayward shadow.

  ‘Oh, I do hope that Eliza’s seen fit to unpack my cases and put away my things,’ Lavinia was saying. ‘The girl was desperate to get to the servants’ hall and catch up on all the gossip, and I daresay one can’t blame her. Even so, it is rather trying when all one wants to do is have a lie down in one’s own room among one’s own things without being surrounded by cases and travelling paraphernalia. Why, if I have to see another trunk, I think I’ll scream ...’

  Her voice trailed off as, reaching her room, her fears proved unfounded. Her clothes had either been hung up in the wardrobe or taken to the laundry, and her various bottles, potions and other such toiletries were arranged neatly on her dressing table.

  Lavinia gave a sigh of relief. Rose, for her part, marvelled at the speed by which the various servants must have worked to ensure that the room was tidy and welcoming. A fire had even been hastily laid and was burning gently in the grate so as to give the newly awakened room some warmth, without making it seem stiflingly hot or stuffy.

  ‘I say, it is good to be home.’ Lavinia surveyed her room with something akin to satisfaction before throwing herself onto the bed. ‘One never quite realises how much one misses it until one returns after being away. Poor Eliza. The girl was so homesick. I think she was on the verge of upping and leaving me, and would have done too, if I’d stayed away for one more night. You should have seen her face when I said we were returning to Sedgwick. It was an absolute picture. It was all she could do not to hug me.’ Lavinia looked around the room. ‘Everything’s just as I remember it, although smaller somehow. It seems an age since I was last here, what with working in that ghastly little dress shop in London, and then of course after everything that happened at Ashgrove ...’ Lavinia’s voice faltered and she idly caressed her bedspread with her hand as if it gave her comfort to do so, like some long forgotten toy suddenly unearthed. ‘Such a very long time ago that I was last here, almost like another life.’

  Her words hung in the air as both girls became lost in their own thoughts and memories. They remembered the events that had occurred at Ashgrove House, which had resulted In Lavinia’s sudden flight to the Continent. Rose, who had remained standing in the doorway, hovered and fidgeted awkwardly with the corner of her handkerchief, her eyes averted from her friend. Meanwhile, Lavinia had moved to her dressing table, installed herself on the stool positioned in front of it, and was regarding her reflection critically in the fine oval mirrors.

  The silence became unbearable like some tangible unwelcome presence. If no one spoke soon, Rose thought, she would surely scream or be forced to run from this claustrophobic room out into the comforting vastness of the parkland where she could gulp large mouthfuls of country air.

  ‘Lavinia,’ she said tentatively at last, ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am about everything, I – ’

  ‘Don’t!’ Lavinia said abruptly, banging her hand down sharply onto the dressing table, threatening to shatter its surface, to say nothing of the glass above. In the mirror Rose could see her eyes blazing, brimming with emotion. ‘Don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about what happened at my aunt’s house. I want to forget that anything ever did.’ She turned in her seat and looked at her friend imploringly. ‘Oh, I know one can’t really, but one can try. And even if it’s not possible to forget, it doesn’t mean one has to go on and on about it over and over again until one gets quite sick of it. I’m sure I’ll go quite mad if I think any more about it. And it won’t change anything if I do, will it? So what’s the point? I am so very tired of wondering what might have been had things not happened in the way they did. And I daresay I blamed you and Ceddie at the time, although I realise now it wasn’t really your fault, none of it. Now’, she turned back to regard herself in the mirror, ‘don’t you dare get me started or I really won’t be able to stop. It will be like releasing the flood gates and all that. Don’t you see, Rose? I want to look forwards not backwards.’ She dabbed at a stray tear.

  ‘Lavinia – ’

  ‘I could sob for England, I can tell you; really I could. But what’s the point? Besides,’ Lavinia smiled suddenly as if she were trying to force herself to be bright, ‘I already look a perfect fright after all this travelling. Even the servants think so. Travelling and crying and sleepless nights. The effects of which are really dreadfully awful for one’s complexion.’ She gave a little laugh and proceeded to powder her face. ‘That’s better, my nose doesn’t look quite so shiny. I don’t look as if I’m coming down with a cold or anything horrid like that. Now, you wouldn’t be a dear, would you, and brush my hair for me? Eliza usually does it, but she’s probably regaling the servants with exaggerated descriptions of our travels.’

  So that was how Lavinia wished to play it, was it? Rose could hardly blame the girl and if she were truthful, it was a relief. She picked up the hairbrush and began addressing Lavinia’s luxurious locks, marvelling as always at her beauty which always seemed exaggerated in comparison with the ordinariness of her own looks.

  A comfortable silence followed, interrupted only by the sound of hair being brushed. Rose was pleased to have some occupation, even if she did feel a bit like a servant. And all the while Lavinia concentrated on repairing her face.

  ‘I must say, I was rather surprised when Torridge informed me you were staying at Sedgwick,’ Lavinia said, seemingly carelessly, but looking at Rose’s reflection in the mirror out of the corner of her eye all the same. ‘What with it being almost Christmas and all that. I’m surprised Madame Renard could spare you. It must be one of her busiest times of year.’ The hand applying the powder suddenly stopped in mid-air as if a thought had just occurred to Lavinia. ‘I say, Rose, you haven’t been staying here with Ceddie by yourself, have you? There’ll have been dreadful gossip in the village if you have.’

  Rose wanted to laugh, inappropriate though it would have been under the current strained circumstances. It was, however, on the tip of her tongue to ask how she could possibly be considered to be alone here with Cedric when there must be upwards of a dozen servants residing within the house itself, to say nothing of the estate staff who tended to the grounds. Instead she said: ‘No, of course not. Vera Brewster’s here and so is Theo Harrison. They arrived a day or so before I did.’

  ‘Vera Brewster!’ Lavinia made a face
in the mirror. ‘How ghastly for you, you poor thing. You must have been bored stiff. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met a duller woman. Oh, I know,’ she added quickly, seeing that Rose was about to protest. ‘One would have to say she’s awfully nice and pleasant and all that, but all the same dreadfully dull. You know, she’s only a few years older than us, can’t be more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine, but all she can think about is church bazaars and organising the rota for doing the flowers in the church, or overseeing a beetle drive to raise money for widows and orphans. Very worthy and all that, but I ask you, how very dreary. I suppose it’s having a clergyman for a father and having to step up to the mark with her mother dying so young. Still, I’m sure that she’ll make Theo a wonderful doctor’s wife. They’ve been engaged for absolutely years, you know.’

  ‘Well, I think she’s rather nice,’ said Rose, abandoning the hair brushing and sinking onto Lavinia’s bed.

  ‘Yes, well you would,’ said Lavinia, not unkindly, as she played with a wayward curl, ‘but then you do tend to see the best in everyone, Rose, even me. But you have to admit that Vera doesn’t make much of an effort to be interesting, even in her appearance. I mean, she’s probably got a good figure under all those unflattering clothes she insists on wearing, but one would never know it. Of course, there is nothing wrong with wearing tweed in the country, but why choose such nondescript shades of grey or brown? And if one must, at least make sure that the cloth isn’t sagging and the hems aren’t coming down. Really, she ought to make an effort. I know Theo’s only a country doctor and all that, but he’s frightfully ambitious and rather handsome in a country doctor sort of way, don’t you think? All the old biddies love him, can’t get enough of his bedside manner. If Vera’s not careful, one of them will leave him a fortune in her will and he’ll up and open a practice in Harley Street and leave her behind.’