02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall Read online

  Chapter Four

  Lord Sneddon’s entrance had caused a collective gasp; as the moments passed it now caused complete silence as if each person in the room was unsure how to react to his sudden appearance. Rose expected Cedric to feel disappointed and agitated. Indeed, looking across at him she could clearly see the anger etched on his face. She went to stand next to him to reassure him that, from her perspective at least, it did not matter even though of course it did. But she had no intention of letting it spoil their visit. What she had not expected, however, was that the others would look so distressed at Lord Sneddon’s entrance. She felt that she and Cedric had good reason to after what had happened at Ashgrove, but Hallam, if anything, looked more livid than Cedric at the identity of Isabella’s guest. Josephine had gone quite pale and Rose could not help but notice how every now and then Hallam glanced over at his sister anxiously, as if he did not know how Josephine would be taking Sneddon’s appearance. Indeed, he looked as if he feared that she might faint at any moment.

  The moment was broken by the baron clearing his throat noisily in preparation for making an announcement, and by Isabella crossing the room to go over to Sneddon to take his arm.

  ‘My lords, ladies and gentlemen,’ began Baron Atherton pompously, ‘I cannot tell you all how very honoured I am to make this announcement. This evening my dear Hugh, Lord Sneddon,’ at this he turned to beam at Sneddon, ‘asked, nay demanded even, so great was his mission, to see me in my study to ask permission for my youngest daughter’s hand in marriage, which I gave gladly. Crabtree! Now where is that man?’ A frown appeared on the baron’s forehead as he surveyed the room in search of his butler. ‘The man was told to get the champagne on ice and arrange for it to be brought in. Oh there you are, Crabtree, what kept you? Come on now, pour.’

  There was a general shuffling of feet and fidgeting as those present waited restlessly for the butler to pour the champagne and distribute the drinks. Rose caught Cedric’s eye, and saw the sadness in his face. Meanwhile, Hallam’s face was getting redder and redder and he was clawing at an occasional table to such an extent that there was a very distinct possibility that he might upset a crystal vase of cut flowers.

  ‘My lords, ladies and gentlemen. I would like you to raise your glasses and toast –.’

  ‘No!’ Before anyone could stop him, Hallam sprang forward and tore the champagne flute from his father’s hand, upsetting the contents and hurling the glass to the ground where it smashed on the parquet floor into a hundred little pieces. ‘No father, you can’t. You can’t possibly give your consent to such a union. Not after everything he’s done and everything we’ve been through. I forbid it! And you,’ he said turning to Isabella, ‘you, darling Issy, you can’t possibly want to marry him. You know what sort of a man he is.’

  ‘Quiet!’ bellowed the baron, his face quite purple with rage. ‘That will do, Hallam. How dare you act so outrageously and discourteously to a guest in my house? If you can’t be civil and hold your tongue then you can jolly well go up to your room and have your dinner brought up to you there on a tray.’

  ‘But....’ But Hallam did not finish his sentence. Cedric had placed a steadying hand on his arm and had shaken his head slightly to indicate that while he understood how the young man felt, this conversation should take place outside the drawing room when no women were present and preferably not just before they were all due to go into dinner. Hallam looked for a moment as if he would resist these attempts to curtail his behaviour, but then he sighed, threw up his hands in desperation and just looked miserable.

  There was a tense, uncomfortable silence in the room as everyone else wondered what would happen next. Casting a glance at Crabtree, Rose found that even the butler looked ill at ease. In fact, this very moment in the drawing room he positively looked quite unwell. She wondered whether it was Hallam’s outburst that had caused this, by upsetting the decorum of the house, or the unexpected identity of Isabella’s guest. Certainly the inattentive service of the servants, first with the cocktails and then with the champagne, appeared out of character from what Josephine had said. Looking across at the baron, given the anger on his face and the manner in which he had admonished his son in public, Rose could not believe that he was a man who would tolerate sloppy, slatternly service from his servants.

  She looked across at Josephine. The girl, she thought, looked very pale as if she had suffered something of a shock. Her hand, almost instinctively and unconsciously it seemed went to touch a spot on her forehead covered by her hair in very much the same way one might put a hand to one’s mouth or heart to try to steady oneself from a fright. Rose studied Josephine’s face closely. She was clearly surprised and distressed by the young man’s unexpected arrival but there was something else that Rose detected in her face. It seemed to her to make no sense at all given the circumstances, but she could have sworn that she detected a look of relief, albeit fleeting, to be replaced almost at once by a look of apprehension as her eyes darted to her brother. Josephine was very obviously moved by the state Hallam was in and went to join him where she took his arm and bent forward to whisper something in his ear. Almost instinctively Rose moved closer so that she might catch the whispered words.

  ‘It’s alright, Hallam. Don’t worry on my account. Really, I am quite over him now; I really am.’

  It was only now that Rose looked over at Isabella to see her reaction to her siblings’ somewhat negative response to the announcement of her engagement. Her face, to Rose, looked surprisingly blank and unmoved by the events that had unfolded. True, she had moved to stand beside her fiancé, but she did not appear particularly surprised or distressed by Hallam’s outburst or Josephine’s discomfort. If anything her face looked distinctly devoid of any emotion, as if while she was there in body, she was not there in spirit. She caught Rose watching her and met her gaze. The look she gave her was cool and Rose found herself shrinking back from such a stare, but not before she wondered at Isabella’s detached reaction to everything. Certainly Isabella did not apparently see the need to give assurance to Lord Sneddon in the light of the opposition expressed by her brother to their engagement. It was almost, Rose thought, as if she did not care how he might be feeling.

  Lord Sneddon himself, she saw, was clearly furious at Hallam’s outburst but trying very hard not to show it. He was pretending to laugh as if he found the boy’s reaction rather amusing. Oh, the ideals and emotions of youth, his look seemed to say, although his smile did not reach his eyes, Rose noticed, and when he thought no one was looking, she saw him cast Hallam a furious look.

  If the baron felt minded to demand an apology from his son for his behaviour, he obviously thought better of it, and instead contented himself by leading everyone into the dining room for dinner, no doubt hopeful that good food and full stomachs might restore the mood and encourage a feeling of celebration, although it seemed to Rose that he alone believed there was anything to rejoice about.

  There was a precedence for dinner, Rose knew, as to which gentlemen should take in which lady. As the only female guest, the baron as host gave her his arm and led her in to dinner. She felt that Josephine, acting as hostess, should have been taken in next by the gentleman of highest rank, which in this case would have been Lord Sneddon as heir to a dukedom. But it seemed that the baron had considered it wise to break with precedence on this occasion given the atmosphere, for he indicated that Sneddon should lead in Isabella. They in turn were followed by Cedric who led in Josephine and lastly Hallam who brought up the rear, walking in alone, partnerless and distinctly sulky. Rose reminded herself that at eighteen he was barely more than a child and that no doubt he had been spoilt and doted on by his sisters. She pitied him, for he alone had been prepared to say in public what the others surely felt in private.

  Family and guests filed into the dining room, which had retained its eighteenth century panelling and had pale scrubbed floorboards, typical Georgian features of the house. The baron remained standing in order that he
could indicate where each gentleman should sit, the intention being that each lady sit on the right hand of the gentleman who had taken her into dinner. However, Rose saw that on reflection the baron obviously felt, in light of what had passed in the drawing room, that it would be both wise and diplomatic to ensure that Hallam sat nowhere near to Lord Sneddon and Josephine also be seated away from him. She wondered what there had been between Lord Sneddon and Josephine for Hallam to show such concern as to how she would be taking the news of his engagement to her sister. Could it be that she had once harboured dreams herself of becoming his wife?

  In the end the seating arrangements resulted in Hallam sitting at the head of the table with his father on his right and Josephine on his left. Next to Josephine sat Cedric, and next to him, on his left, sat Isabella. Opposite her sat Sneddon who, to Rose’s dismay, was also sitting on her right, while the baron was on her left.

  The meal started well enough for Rose with the baron engaging her in pleasant small talk about Dareswick Hall, its history and how long it had been in the ownership of the Atherton family. For a while she wondered whether the inevitable would not happen after all, that she would not be forced to engage in conversation with Lord Sneddon. For it appeared that the baron had no intention of speaking to his son. Hallam, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, seemed to barely register the existence of anyone at the table, preferring instead to study the tablecloth and pick at his napkin, although every now and then he lifted up his head to scowl at Sneddon, who seemed oblivious to his action, or to throw the odd glance at Josephine, which she met with a troubled smile.

  ‘Mr Crabtree, if I may disturb you for a moment,’ said Mrs Hodges, coming into the butler’s pantry and closing the door firmly behind her.

  ‘What can I do for you, Mrs Hodges?’ enquired the butler, mopping his brow and hoping that the housekeeper had not caught sight of the empty whisky glass on the counter behind him, or indeed seen him gulp down its contents hurriedly before she entered the room.

  ‘Pearl has just told me that Lord Sneddon has brought his own valet with him. Surely not! No one said anything about getting a servant’s room ready. As if I haven’t enough to do what with all the bother as to whether to arrange a room for Miss Isabella’s guest to be got ready in the gentlemen’s corridor or in the ladies’, and then Miss Josephine deciding after all that we’d better get both ready just to be on the safe side. And jolly good it is that we did too, otherwise his lordship would be laying his head down in the Pink Room!’

  ‘I am afraid Pearl is correct, Mrs Hodges,’ said Crabtree with a sigh, ‘insofar as Lord Sneddon has brought a servant with him. I was just on my way to tell you.’

  ‘Were you now?’ said Mrs Hodges allowing some scepticism to enter her voice as she eyed the empty whisky glass suspiciously. ‘And what precisely do you mean by that, Mr Crabtree?’ She continued getting more and more frustrated by the situation. ‘Either he’s a valet or he’s not. Can’t think what he can be if he isn’t, unless his lordship saw fit to bring his chauffeur with him.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ agreed the butler. ‘What I meant, Mrs Hodges, is that the man purports to be Lord Sneddon’s valet but that he bears no resemblance to any valet that I have ever had the experience of knowing.’

  ‘Why’s that, then?’ demanded the housekeeper, interested despite the threat of additional work for her already overstretched staff. ‘Do you think he’s a footman acting up to be a valet, or what?’

  ‘No, not even that,’ said Crabtree pausing for a moment before continuing so as to create maximum suspense. ‘I would be very surprised if the man has ever set foot in a grand house such as this before, let alone ever worked as a servant in one. But don’t just take my word for it, Mrs Hodges, have a look at the young man yourself and let me know what you think.’

  Feeling rather apprehensive and curious in equal measure, the housekeeper marched into the servants’ hall and was brought up short by the scene that unfolded before her eyes. A young man of dubious appearance was seated on a chair, his tie askew and his hair sticking up all over the place, with his arm trying to encircle the waist of Doris, the under housemaid and persuade her to sit on his knee. Doris in turn was shrieking and giggling for all she was worth as she dodged his advances.

  ‘Stop that at once!’ bellowed Mrs Hodges. ‘You, my girl,’ she said, pointing a finger at the unfortunate Doris, ‘can get out of here and finish your dusting or whatever else you’ve got left to do. And as for you,’ the housekeeper turned to glare at the dishevelled young man, ‘you should know better. Call yourself a valet. I’d expect better behaviour from the boot boy!’

  ‘Ah, come off it, missus,’ protested the young man seemingly unfazed at being admonished by the housekeeper. ‘We was only having a bit of fun. That don’t harm anyone, do it? We was just having a laugh, like.’

  ‘My goodness,’ exclaimed Mrs Hodges, hands on hips. ‘Wherever were you brought up? Have you never heard of speaking the King’s English?’

  ‘I talk all right, so I do,’ the young man replied sulkily. ‘I don’t hold with all those airs and graces and bowing and scraping. That all went out with the War, so it did. I’m as good as the next man, I am.’

  ‘Then why, pray, are you a valet by profession if you don’t agree with being in service?’

  ‘’Cause it suits me, that’s why.’

  ‘Have you been in service long,’ enquired Crabtree, appearing suddenly at Mrs Hodges’ elbow and making her jump. ‘Do you know the first thing about what the job entails?’

  ‘No and no,’ replied the young man moodily. ‘But I’m a quick learner; that’s why his lordship took me on. Besides,’ he continued, looking at them slyly, ‘I’m good at doing other things apart from valeting.’

  It was inevitable, Rose supposed, that she and the baron would run out of things to say and that he would feel obliged to let her turn to speak to the gentleman on her right, unaware as he was of their history. He probably felt obliged too to have a word with his wayward son, having first made a point of deliberately ignoring him. She sighed. What a pity that it was expected in polite society that one engage in conversation with the person seated on your right as well as the one seated on your left.

  Shortly there was a lull in the conversation between Lord Sneddon and Isabella, so that Sneddon turned his attention to Rose for the first time since they had been seated. She took a deep breath, aware that not even the soup had yet been served and that the dinner was likely to consist of some six or seven courses. She had hoped that she would be able to put off speaking to Lord Sneddon until the meat dish at the very least. She turned desperately to the baron to see if she could reignite their dying conversation. She found however that, while the baron was still furious with Hallam, he had resolved to take the opportunity between courses to reprimand his son for his behaviour in words whispered angrily between clenched teeth.

  ‘Ah, Miss Simpson, this is a pleasant surprise,’ began Lord Sneddon, bestowing on her an ambiguous smile. ‘Although I have to confess that I didn’t imagine that I’d ever be seeing you again, certainly not so soon, not that it isn’t most welcome.’

  ‘I wish I could say the same,’ Rose retorted, primly. ‘But I’m afraid that I can’t. But believe me, it’s just as much of a surprise for me to find you here.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that, Rose,’ said Lord Sneddon, grinning. ‘Of course, I know that I behaved abominably towards you at Ashgrove, but can’t we just let bygones be bygones while we are both here?’

  ‘It’s not quite so easy for me to do as you ask,’ replied Rose, remembering with a shiver their last encounter on the staircase at Ashgrove, ‘but I suppose we must, just while we’re both here.’ Besides, she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of ruining her weekend with Cedric.

  ‘That’s a girl,’ beamed her dinner companion. ‘Now suppose you start by giving me a friendly smile, or at the very least stop looking as if you’d like to disappear under the table. Because I h
ave to say, if looks could kill, young Cedric over there would have finished me off three times already this evening.’

  Rose looked up. Cedric was indeed glaring at Sneddon in a manner which suggested that he would like to do him harm. She felt herself panic. She must not let him make a fool of himself as Hallam had done. Whatever Cedric had to say to Lord Sneddon, and she was sure it was a great deal, she must ensure that he said it in private.

  ‘You’d never think that young Cedric and I used to be inseparable,’ continued Lord Sneddon. ‘We were the absolute best of friends.’

  That’s before he was aware of your true character, Rose longed to say, but she held her tongue. She would not be provoked for she felt sure that that was exactly what he wanted.

  ‘I must admit, Rose, I didn’t see your little romance with Cedric lasting, touching though it was. It just proves me wrong, doesn’t it? He’s had a pretty rum time of it, hasn’t he? The newspapers have been absolutely hounding him; fortunately they don’t appear to know that I was there. I’m somewhat surprised that he didn’t take a leaf out of dear Lavinia’s book and head for the Continent. I assume she’s planning to stay there until all the fuss has died down, that’s what I’d have done.’

  ‘Yes, but Cedric isn’t you, is he?’ Rose said, finding it hard to keep her temper despite her good intentions. ‘He isn’t the sort of man to run away from things. Besides, he had all the estate affairs to sort out and of course the funerals to arrange.’

  ‘Mr Crabtree, is there absolutely no way you can manage at dinner without having young Robert serve?’ asked the housekeeper, clasping her hands tightly together in her agitation. She had collared the butler yet again in his parlour and he was beginning to think that this, regrettably, was becoming a rather regular occurrence, particularly when he saw her eyes darting around her on the search for any sign of a hidden glass. Mrs Hodges, in turn, although never going so far as to think that the butler had a problem with drink, was of the view that in times of stress he had been known to overindulge to take the edge off his anxiety.