02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall Page 3

  ‘Was it very awful?’ asked Rose, leading him to a sofa where they sat down, hands still clutched, each not taking their eyes from the other. ‘I tried not to read what they said about it in the newspapers…’

  ‘Yes, it was jolly beastly. It would have been a good deal more so though, if it hadn’t been for Inspector Deacon. I have to say he was an absolute brick, that man. He did his very best to hush things up. I’m not sure that anyone has really swallowed that story of a shooting accident. But hopefully the newspapers and public will soon tire of speculating about what happened. There would be those who would argue that justice had not been done if they knew the truth; the murderer did not hang.’

  ‘Yes, but Inspector Deacon must be satisfied with the outcome, otherwise he wouldn’t have played along. Tell me, Cedric, thinking about Ashgrove, where is Lavinia now? You made scarce mention of her in your letters.’

  ‘She’s on the Continent on an extended visit. We have some relatives in Switzerland and then I think she plans to do a tour of the Italian lakes and then to stay in Paris for a while to improve her French. She’s taken it all very badly, I’m afraid. She went away to escape it all. She thinks her chances of meeting a suitable husband are now ruined unless she seeks one in America. It would not surprise me very much if she never returns to England, although I suppose it’s still early days and anything might happen.’

  ‘Does she still blame me for everything?’ asked Rose with a heavy heart.

  ‘Yes, but me just as much as you. In time I’m hopeful that she’ll come round. She and I were very close and she considered you a good friend once, so I think there’s still hope.’ There was a pause of a few minutes, as both became lost in their own thoughts.

  ‘Anyway, enough of this, Rose,’ Cedric said, sounding resolutely cheerful. ‘I have done nothing but think about what happened at Ashgrove to the exclusion of all else for these past few months. I refuse to think about it anymore, at least while we are here at Dareswick. Don’t you agree? We should try and put it all behind us and look to the future.’

  Rose nodded slowly, looking serious; it was easier said than done.

  ‘Right, my girl, we’re going to have a jolly fine time here at Dareswick. The Athertons are old family friends and will want nothing but to wish us well. I have given Hallam very firm instructions that neither of us is to be interrogated about what happened at Ashgrove and that if we are, we’ll leave immediately.’ He forced a smile and tapped her knee affectionately. ‘I suppose we’d better go and dress for dinner. Haven’t seen any sign of Isabella and her guest, have you? I wonder if they’ve arrived yet. I doubt they’ll hold dinner for them. Between you and me I rather wish Isabella wasn’t coming. She’s nice enough, of course, but there is something rather cold and aloof about her, she’s not a patch on Josephine.’ Rose secretly wondered whether Isabella reminded him of his sister, Lavinia, but said nothing.

  When they came out into the hall they found Josephine looking agitated.

  ‘Father’s only just arrived home and has gone straight into his study. I hope that you don’t mind that he didn’t come into the drawing room to say hello. I thought you’d appreciate a little time together alone. But we’re still waiting on Isabella and her guest to arrive. Really, it is too bad. We’ve pushed dinner back to a quarter to nine as it is and Father says we’re not eating any later. They’ll just have to make do with cold meats and leftovers from the kitchen if they don’t get a move on. And we still don’t know who she’s bringing down with her. Well, I’m not waiting around down here any longer. I’m going up to change and I suggest you two do the same. Your room’s opposite mine, Rose. Come up with me now and we can check that you have everything you need. Hopefully Pearl will have unpacked your case and hung up your clothes by now.’

  Rose looked at her wristwatch. It was ten past eight. She had made particularly good time with her toilet and now stood before her kidney shaped dressing table, with its drapery of muslin over chintz, and regarded her reflection in the mirror. She had a full twenty minutes to wait before she was due to go in to dinner. She sat on her bed with its damask silk cover and wondered what to do. There had been some talk of cocktails before dinner, but she didn’t want to find herself the first down, standing there awkwardly as she waited for the others to join her. Perhaps instead she ought to wait five minutes or so. She fiddled with her hair and cosmetics to while away the time. Just as she was getting ready to pluck up courage and vacate her room, she heard the doorbell followed by a commotion in the hall with doors opening and shutting, the sound of feet hurrying up and down the stairs and the general murmur of voices. Isabella and her guest must have arrived at last. She had no wish to pass them on the stairs and so decided to wait on a few more minutes before making her way down. If she was not mistaken, she had heard Isabella hurriedly making her way to her room, but she had not heard her guest. Could it be that the guest was still in the hallway being attended to by the servants? But there was no sound now from downstairs. She stole out of her room and stood in the gallery overlooking the hall, which to her relief she found empty. Without another thought she tore down the stairs and into the drawing room. This, to her dismay, she also found empty. Where was everyone?

  ‘Mr Crabtree!’ Mrs Hodges looked aghast. She could not remember the butler ever having looked so awful. His usually red face was a ghastly shade of white and he was sweating profusely. What was more, he had practically burst through the green baize door as if an army was in hot pursuit. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

  The man was panting so heavily that he was unable to utter a word and just bent over the table clutching the edge in an attempt to catch his breath. The housekeeper ushered him quickly into her sitting room before the junior servants could take in the spectacle the butler was making of himself. As it was the kitchen and scullery maids had lifted their eyes from their tasks, the scullery maid from peeling vegetables and the kitchen maid from standing over the stove stirring a white sauce, being careful to ensure it did not catch the bottom of the pan and burn.

  ‘Take a grip of yourself, man,’ Mrs Hodges said urgently. ‘Think of the lower servants. Whatever will they think of you crashing into the kitchen looking fit to burst? You’d better take a small glass of the master’s brandy to steady yourself or you’ll not be in a fit state to wait at table tonight.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Hodges,’ said the butler, collapsing into a rather sagging wing chair and accepting the glass of brandy proffered, which he swallowed in one gulp. ‘Ah, that’s better. I feel more like myself again.’

  ‘Whatever came over you, Mr Crabtree? Awful queer you looked, I must say. Why, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost,’ said the housekeeper taking the empty glass from him and setting it beside him on an occasional table. ‘Not like you at all, it isn’t.’

  ‘I feel as if I have seen a ghost, Mrs Hodges,’ replied the butler, somewhat recovered. ‘And I suggest that you take a seat yourself before I tell you the news.’

  ‘Pray, what news is this?’ demanded the housekeeper, perching on the edge of a chair, her hands clutching at her plain black gown in nervous anticipation. She had still not fully recovered from witnessing the butler in such a state. Usually he was an example to all as to how a good servant should conduct themselves even if he were a little too fond of his food.

  ‘You must brace yourself for a shock, Mrs Hodges. And we must do the best we can to prepare the staff, especially young Robert. It’s a pity we can’t do without him at dinner tonight.’

  ‘Mr Crabtree will you be so good as not to keep me in suspense any longer,’ cried Mrs Hodges, ‘and tell me, for goodness sake, what is the matter?’

  ‘The matter, Mrs Hodges, is the friend that Miss Isabella has brought with her.’

  ‘From that I gather it is a young gentleman?’

  ‘It is indeed, Mrs Hodges, although I think applying the word gentleman to him may be considered by some to be a little generous. A more rude young man I cannot imagine. He practicall
y pushed me aside in his eagerness to see the master. Didn’t wait to knock at the study door or for me to announce him. Just burst in with no by your leave, he did, as if he thought the master wouldn’t mind the interruption.’

  ‘Well I never! I’m sure the master must have given him short shrift. He doesn’t like being disturbed when he’s in his study, does our lordship,’ said Mrs Hodges, somewhat disappointed at the explanation for the butler’s erratic behaviour. ‘Even so, Mr Crabtree, I’m somewhat surprised it’s left you so flustered. You and I are no strangers to the inconsiderate behaviour of our betters. Miss Isabella’s got one or two other friends who could do with learning a lesson or two in manners.’

  ‘It’s not that, Mrs Hodges, I could have coped with that.’

  ‘Then pray what is it, Mr Crabtree?’ cried the housekeeper leaning forward in her seat looking exasperated.

  ‘It’s who the guest is, Mrs Hodges,’ replied the butler sadly. ‘A gentleman I never expected to set eyes on again at Dareswick. I’m awfully afraid that there’s going to be trouble; I feel that something dreadful is almost bound to happen.’

  ‘There’s a bit of a queue for the bathroom in the men’s corridor, I’m afraid,’ said Josephine bustling into the drawing room where Rose was hovering uncomfortably by the sideboard. ‘Hallam will take ages. It really is too bad of him, especially when we’ve got guests. Oh, I say,’ she said, looking at the empty sideboard in dismay. ‘Wherever are the cocktails? Robert should have had them prepared and put ready in wine glasses by now. Really, we’ll have no time at all to drink them before we have to go in to dinner.’

  Josephine went over to the fireplace and pressed the bell push. The two girls stood in an awkward silence, Josephine clearly agitated by both her brother not being there and the unexpected tardiness of the servants. Her mood was not improved by the inordinate amount of time it seemed to take for the bell to be answered.

  ‘Crabtree, this really will not do. Did you not hear the bell? We’ve been waiting simply ages. And why did you come and not Robert? There’s absolutely no sign of any cocktails, where is he?’

  ‘I’m very sorry, madam I’m afraid Robert is indisposed at the moment. Will you be wanting me to ask Mrs Gooden to put back dinner by half an hour or so?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Crabtree,’ Josephine said, admitting defeat. ‘It doesn’t look as if the men will be down any time soon, so we might as well go straight into dinner as soon as they appear. Let’s not delay things further by having cocktails. You know my father doesn’t like to eat late. I passed Miss Isabella on the landing and she said she’d only be a minute getting changed. I didn’t see any sign of her guest, I must say. Did she not bring one with her after all?’

  ‘Indeed, madam. The young gentleman requested an immediate audience with his lordship.’

  ‘How strange. I doubt whether my father was too pleased. Is this guest still in with his lordship, Crabtree?’

  ‘No, indeed not, miss. They’ve both gone to change for dinner. I understand it was a very brief interview.’

  ‘What strange behaviour,’ Josephine said to Rose as soon as the butler had left. ‘Crabtree seemed so very vague and wasn’t at all apologetic about Robert not having laid out the cocktails. It’s not like him at all. He’s usually very particular about everything, excessively so given that it’s usually only Father and me here. I do hope nothing’s wrong.’

  A wave of uneasiness came over Rose. She could not put her finger on it exactly, but she felt suddenly that there was something sinister in the air, as if the arrival of Isabella’s guest had brought with him something contaminated and unpleasant. Josephine had been relaxed and chatty when Rose had first arrived, now she was clearly agitated and irritable as if she had got caught up in the atmosphere which now prevailed over Dareswick Hall. Rose shivered and told herself not to be so fanciful, imagining things that were not there. But the behaviour of the servants also troubled her. Crabtree did not seem the sort of butler who would put up with dilatory behaviour from his staff. And yet it appeared to her that he had gone out of his way to protect the young footman, Robert, while at the same time not giving an adequate explanation for his absence from the drawing room.

  But before Rose had time to consider the matter any further, they were joined by Cedric and Hallam, who appeared in dinner jackets and black bow-ties. Rose had been relieved to find that Josephine was dressed in a simple black silk crepe dress not that dissimilar to her own gown, except that it had cream lace work at the neckline embellished with rhinestones. It struck her now, however, that with this predominance of black amongst both men and women there was something of a funereal air about the gathering.

  ‘Oh, Hallam, I wonder poor Cedric had time to take a bath,’ said Josephine scolding her brother.

  ‘Don’t worry, old thing,’ Cedric assured her. ‘I say, you’re looking jolly marvellous, Rose. You too, of course, Josephine.’

  ‘And what about me, Cedric, can’t you tell I’ve spent hours getting ready? Will I pass muster?’ laughed Hallam. ‘I don’t see why it should be just the girls who get all the compliments on their appearance, do you?’

  Cedric thumped him on the back good humouredly. ‘You look jolly spiffing too, Hallam. Why, I’m surprised you haven’t got women falling at your feet. Now where’s that other sister of yours, is she going to keep us waiting for dinner? I’ve a good mind to …’

  But whatever Cedric was about to say remained unspoken. For the door of the drawing room had opened and a vision of loveliness, or at least that’s how Rose thought of her then, entered the room. Later she realised that Isabella’s gown had had a lot to do with the illusion of perfection. Although no one could dispute that Isabella was beautiful with her slender frame, highly chiselled features and pale porcelain white skin offset by hair so black it was almost ebony in shade. By contrast her eyes were the brightest blue Rose had ever seen. But it was the dress she was wearing that made her stand out. It was of a deep crimson velvet, with a high waist, ruched sleeves and open back and was decorated with a large flower appliqué of red and purple petals. The overall effect was breath taking, not least because it contrasted so strikingly with the blackness of the dress of the others in the room. Immediately Rose felt plain and dowdy, as if she had somehow melted into the background with Isabella’s entrance.

  Isabella in turn surveyed them all for a moment before speaking. She smiled, but it seemed to Rose that the smile was done more to show her amusement at the reaction her entrance had caused rather than to be a greeting. She glided into the room, her hand outstretched so that she could clasp Cedric’s arm.

  ‘Cedric, how wonderful to see you,’ Her voice had a light musical tone to it which, while pleasing, Rose thought appeared forced and artificial, as if it were hiding a sea of emotions. ‘It’s been an age since you were last at Dareswick. Anyone would think that you’ve been avoiding us and that really will never do. And this must be Rose.’ Isabella arched an artfully painted eyebrow and gave Rose a look which she thought to be rather mocking. ‘How do you do, my dear? I understand that you work in a dress shop. You must know all the tricks of the trade to dressing well. You’ll have to tell me what’s in fashion next season.’ She turned her attention to Josephine. ‘Now don’t scold me big sister, I know we’re frightfully late. We were held up leaving London, but really it couldn’t be helped. But we’re here now and have you ever known me change so quickly for dinner? Quite a record even if I say so myself. Now, where’s Papa? Isn’t he down yet? I thought he’d be dying to eat. I have to say that the journey has made me feel quite ravenous.’

  ‘Your companion insisted on seeing him straightaway,’ replied her sister, somewhat coldly. ‘Really, Issy, couldn’t he have waited until after dinner? What can have been so very important that it couldn’t have waited until then?’

  Isabella said nothing, but Rose noticed that a frown creased her lovely forehead for a moment before she turned her attention to her brother. ‘Are you going to tell
me off too, little brother?’

  ‘No, but I’m awfully keen to know who you’ve brought down with you,’ replied Hallam, a mischievous grin appearing on his young face.

  ‘All in good time,’ said Isabella and it seemed to Rose that she was making an effort to make light of it, although she was sure she detected a sadness in her eyes.

  ‘Well, I really don’t know why you have to be so jolly mysterious,’ retorted Josephine. ‘The very least you could have done was to have told us whether you were bringing a girlfriend or a young man. I am sure housekeeping arrangements never occur to you for one moment, but poor Mrs Hodges has been in quite a quandary trying to decide which room to get ready for your guest.’

  It was possible that Josephine might have gone on to say more about her sister’s inconsiderate behaviour, but as it was she did not get the opportunity. For at that moment the door to the drawing room opened and all eyes were diverted to study the two gentlemen who entered. The first was a middle-aged, large and heavy set man with a ruddy complexion and thinning grey hair who appeared to be in highly jovial spirits. Certainly he was beaming, his smile taking in the whole room and lighting up his eyes so that they seemed to shine in the light from the chandelier. But it was not the first man that caught everyone’s attention or drew a collective gasp from all those present. It was the second. He entered the room a little behind Baron Atherton, a tall, dark and uncommonly handsome man, although his eyes betrayed his arrogance.

  Rose found that she was clutching on to the sideboard as if for support; only just in time did she stop her nails from digging into the polished wood. Of all the guests that Isabella could have brought with her, it had never occurred to her that she might be acquainted with the gentleman. And of all the people she never wished to see again, which admittedly were few, then surely this man before her must come top of her list. Hands shaking slightly, with an effort she forced herself to look up and meet the man’s gaze full on. She looked Lord Sneddon squarely in the eye.