A Death by Arson (20 page)

Bertram visibly brightened. ‘Oh, good. Still something to work on.'

Hans looked slowly around the room. ‘You are all quite mad,' he said.

 

²⁵
In other words, either the housekeeper or the butler would be held to blame.

²⁶
Secretly I wondered what he would think of the levels of wickedness I had previously encountered. To me it seemed forging a reference with a view to gathering information for a robbery was quite mild. I did, sensibly, keep these thoughts to myself.

Chapter Twenty-nine
An unhappy parting

The next morning, when Enid drew back the curtains, light flooded through the window in a strange eerie softness. I sat up in bed, yawning, for I had not slept well.

‘Has it snowed, Enid?' I asked.

‘Just a wee drop.'

I got up, wrapping my robe around me and went to the window. Far below me, one of the gardeners or odd job men was pulling burnt wood out of the ashy ruins that had been designed as the new stable block. Every time he took a step the snow rose to the top of his wellingtons. ‘It must be eight or ten inches,' I said.

‘Aye, a wee drop,' said Enid.

‘I take it your grandmother will not be joining us today?'

‘She'll take her time,' said the maid. ‘I don't think she'll get Grandpa out to drive the dog cart. He has a bad chest, you see. She'll probably walk up. It's only a mile or so. And it's not like she will be carrying anything.'

‘Make sure she has a hot cup of tea and a rest before she comes up to Mrs Muller,' was all I could think to say. I knew people were hardy in this part of the world, but even I, in my twenties, would not fancy the idea of trudging a mile in snow that deep.

‘Depends what you are used to,' was Rory's opinion when I managed to catch a word en route to the breakfast.

‘How are they taking Ellie's arrest below stairs?' I asked.

‘It's all very exciting for them,' said Rory. ‘All very interesting now it's nothing to do with the locals.'

‘No sense from anyone that there is more to the story?'

Rory shrugged. ‘I think they are all happy to see what they think is the back of the business.'

‘But what about the other body?'

‘No one is talking about that,' said Rory. ‘It's all that Sassenach maid; knew she were wrong and things like that. Seems others had noticed her wanderings and the way she kept apart from the other staff, to be honest like most nursery maids would, is now seen as a sign of her guilt.'

‘I think it's very odd none of them are talking about the body in the wall. Very suspicious. How's Mrs Lewis?'

‘In a bit of a daze. Cook had to ask her twice for today's menus.'

‘They're not giving you a hard time, are they?'

Rory grinned, his translucent green eyes lighting up, ‘Why should they? I'm one of their own, after all.' As he said this in a ridiculously refined accent rather than his own Scottish lilt I had to laugh. ‘You'd better go into breakfast before people see you dallying with the handsome valet,' he said.

I gave him a grin and crossed the threshold in good humour. The spread set out on the buffets was vast and the table to seat us all equally so. As usual, the married women had stayed to have breakfast in bed. A small cluster of financiers huddled together attacking their sausages and bemoaning whether they would be able to get out of this ‘snow-bound hell hole'. At the far end of the table sat Bertram, staring mournfully at two carefully filleted kippers. I gathered a plate of scrambled eggs, two kidneys and three rashers of bacon, intending to sit down beside him.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me and a voice spoke close to my ear. ‘I hear you have wound the Inspector around your little finger as usual, Euphemia,' said Richard Stapleford. ‘He may be convinced of your innocence, but I am sure there will be others who will begin to notice that wherever you go, trouble follows.'

‘How lovely to see you, Sir Richard,' I said loudly. ‘I trust your wife is well?'

Richard kept his voice low. ‘Oh, she is proving most satisfactory. Surprisingly, she has confessed to me she had qualms about our marriage and that you persuaded her to go forward with it.' He smiled broadly at me, but his low voice was tinged with menace. ‘Do not think for a moment that this would make me look favourably on your marriage to my step-brother.'

‘Bertram?' I said, astonished.

‘I know full well you have Muller in the palm of your hand – and in your bed, too. But Richenda is giving him an heir and even your charms cannot compete with that. Be aware that if you turn your greedy eyes towards Bertram, I will ensure, with the utmost finality, that your wedding will never come to pass.'

‘You are despicable, I said softly. Then more loudly, I said, ‘I will not keep you from her a moment longer.' And I strode over to Bertram and sat down. I could feel myself trembling from head to toe.

‘Hello, Euphemia,' he said dully. ‘You look like you have a fine appetite.'

‘It's the cold,' I said, struggling to appear normal. I could feel Richard's gaze on the back of my head. ‘It might be roaringly warm in front of the fires, but more than two feet away and it's freezing. As for the passages, it is as if they play host to very windy ghosts.'

‘People who died of indigestion?' asked Bertram.

‘Such a boyish sense of humour.' Hans sat down beside him. ‘Despite the snow, Mrs Andrews, Enid's grandmother, has arrived. I inferred from her hostile looks that it is not the place of a husband to take breakfast with his wife, nor to listen in to the gossip among the womenfolk.'

‘By “gossip” you mean “vital exchange of information”,' I said with a smile.

‘Yes, I wouldn't tell Richenda you think she gossips,' said Bertram. ‘She'd be very cross.'

‘Nonsense,' said Hans. ‘She would be delighted I was implying she has plenty of friends to gossip among.'

‘She does seem rather lonely,' I said. ‘I am trying to interest her in hosting dinners.'

‘An excellent idea,' said Hans. ‘Once she has had the baby she will have much to discuss with the local matrons. Adorable though Amy is, she is not a child one might choose to discuss…'

‘All tantrums and tears?' asked Bertram.

‘Toddlers are usually left to nursery maids until they develop manners,' I said. ‘Whereas babies are cooed over by everyone.'

‘Just as well you know about these things, Euphemia,' said Bertram. ‘Or you might feel a bit left out once the new 'un arrives. I mean, will Richenda even need a companion then? And if she's to become a hostess…'

‘Euphemia will always have a home with us,' said Hans shortly.

‘Doesn't your mother want you to come to live with her when she marries her bishop?' asked Bertram. I clenched my hands under the table – I could have kicked him.

‘Your mother is marrying a bishop?' repeated Hans, surprised. ‘If indeed she is in a position to house you, and you wanted to go, as much as I would wish you to remain at the Muller estate, I could not in good conscience keep you from your family if you wished to return. When is the marriage?'

I shot dagger looks at Bertram, who belatedly got the message and, shrinking in his seat, mouthed apologies at me.

‘It is all a long time in the future,' I lied, for I knew my mother was marrying in a few weeks. ‘I am sure Richenda will be glad of my company whilst she is … increasing.'

Hans smiled warmly at me. ‘Indeed, I am certain you will be of the utmost comfort to her.'

We all ate in silence, listening to the discontented murmurings of the bankers. After eating his usual two boiled eggs and two slices of toast, Hans rose and bade us farewell. ‘I confess I am curious to know what the old lady has told Richenda. You and Bertram have quite infected me with your curiosity,' he said. ‘Shall we meet before luncheon in that little parlour and discuss what we have discovered? Richenda tends to need a short rest after breakfast now she is pregnant.'

‘Always did,' said Bertram under his breath.

‘An excellent idea, Hans,' I said, smiling at him. He gave me a short bow and left the room. Immediately I turned on Bertram. ‘Thank you for that,' I hissed between gritted teeth. ‘You have no idea how long and how hard I have worked to forge my own way in the world. I do not appreciate the suggestion that I might be parcelled up and returned to my mother so she can marry me off to one of her friends' idiot sons.'

Bertram, who had been mid crumpet, spluttered crumbs all over the table. ‘Euphemia! I'm sorry. I never thought!'

Richard had already put my nerves on edge and Bertram's unthinking comments were the last straw. I fairly spat at him. ‘I told you something in confidence and you blurt it out to Hans. I thought you were my friend.' I knew as I said this I was being unfair. I recalled all too well how I had thrown my mother's marriage at Bertram's head in a fit of pique, but I was frightened. ‘You are a man. You have your independence. You have no idea what it is like to be beholden to others.'

‘So you don't mind being beholden to my sister's husband?' snapped Bertram. ‘It has looked to me on more than one occasion that you and Hans are rather close. Even Rory has remarked on it.'

‘Well, if
Rory
has remarked on it,' I said, my temper rising ever higher. ‘Rory, that paragon of virtue, who jilted me for no good reason, but still it seems harbours an unwonted possessiveness over my person, then it must be true. That you have known me for years and know me to be of good character means nothing.'

‘Of good character,' said Bertram, his face reddening. ‘You pulled a policeman off his horse!'

‘I had good reason!'

‘I had to rescue you from a brothel!'

‘You did not have to rescue me, I was …' I stopped, suddenly aware that the background noise had ceased. I turned to see all the financiers and some of the other guests who had ventured downstairs staring at us. Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I threw Bertram one last look of pure hatred and ran from the room.

Chapter Thirty
A shooting

Unshed tears blinded me. I stumbled into a gentleman, who caught me by the elbows.' Excuse me,' I said, trying to pull away. ‘I need to…'

‘Goodness, you seem rather distressed, my dear,' said a vaguely familiar voice.

I blinked back the tears and realised I had run straight into the Laird's son, Dougal Kennedy. ‘I am so sorry,' I began.

‘Think nothing of it,' said Dougal. ‘In fact. this is quite serendipitous. I have been wanting a word with you.'

‘With me?' I said, astonished.

‘It is quite a delicate matter. Perhaps we could step out of the corridor?'

I hesitated.

‘Good heavens, you cannot surely fear for your reputation? I am the Laird's son!'

‘Well no,' I began, but certain ideas were beginning to form in my mind. This was the little boy who had run away with the gypsies.

‘Let us go in here,' he said opening a door, seemingly at random. He ushered me into a small antechamber that seemed to serve little purpose. It also had only the one exit.

‘Perhaps you could leave the door open,' I said. ‘It would make me feel more comfortable.'

He frowned, but then quickly smiled. ‘I will leave it ajar. After all, what is the point of a private conversation if all and sundry can hear it? But if it will make you feel more comfortable…' He left the door open the merest crack.

‘It would be most seemly if my employer, Mrs Muller, were also with me. I am unmarried.'

‘And yet, you chat happily with men at breakfast.'

‘Gentlemen, who I know well,' I countered. He was between the door and I. How had that happened?

‘But it is Mrs Muller I need to speak to you about. I understand she has sent for Mrs Andrews, the grandmother of one of the maids here and a retired member of my father's staff.'

‘Yes,' I said. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as the pieces began to fall into place.

‘I feel I need to advise you that Mrs Andrews did not leave my father's employ on good terms and thus anything she has to say should be treated with scepticism.'

‘Anything?' I countered. ‘Or merely when she discusses your family?'

‘Truth be told, the old woman should be in an asylum. She has the strangest fantasies. I told my father he should have had her locked up years ago, but he wouldn't hear of it.'

‘Perhaps he was worried she might have told her tales to her daughter, or even her granddaughter.'

‘Oh, Agnes is a good girl. Very fond of the family. I doubt she would want to make trouble, but Enid … I regret to say it, but she takes after her grandmother. A flighty one.'

‘You ran away with the gypsies when you were little, didn't you?' I asked. ‘Why did you do that?'

‘Oh, that old story.' Dougal Kennedy shrugged his shoulders casually, but his eyes never left my face. ‘I don't recall. I am sure it seemed like a grand adventure at the time.'

‘Your nanny was very upset, I believe.'

‘Yes, poor old Mason. I believe she was quite distraught. Left in a flood of tears, my father said. Of course, he wrote to her afterwards and told her I had been found.'

‘Did he? Where did she go?' I asked.

‘Home. Inverness, I think.'

‘Does your father still have her address?'

‘My dear girl, we are not in the habit of keeping in touch with former servants who are not on our pension,' said Dougal with a cold smile.

‘So what is it you wish me to do?' I asked.

‘I think it would be better if Mrs Muller was not disturbed by Mrs Andrews' tales. Perhaps you could suggest to her that the meeting need not take place? The last thing a lady in her position needs is to be confused and frightened by silly Highland ghost stories.'