Murder At Rudhall Manor (8 page)

"Ack." Elizabeth muffled a screech.

"Blargh," Lucy softly exclaimed.

"What in the devil's name have you done to
yourself?" Elizabeth growled.

Lucy inched her head out from behind the scantily clad
statue of Apollo. "I don't know what you mean."

"Why are you dressed like an unwashed potato?"

"I am not dressed like a potato."

"You look like one."

Lucy shook a branch at Elizabeth. "Potatoes do not have
leaves or stems protruding out of them."

"A turnip then."

A twig poked Lucy in the eye. She straightened the branch
atop her bonnet that kept dipping and sourly faced Elizabeth. "Why are you
lurking in the hallway?"

Elizabeth scowled. "I can do as I please. This is my
house." She added as an afterthought, "Miss Turnip."

"But why are you scuttling around on all fours?"

"I dropped an earring, Miss Turnip."

"Shall I help you look for it?" Lucy asked
witheringly.

"No, Miss Turnip."

"Are you certain?"

"Go away."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"Don't be shy."

"I do not," Elizabeth snarled, "want your
help."

"I never offered to help you."

"You did."

Lucy stuck her tongue out. "Liar, liar, chicken little
vampire."

"What?"

"What, what?"

"Leave," Elizabeth fumed.

"Not leave but leaves, I have leaves stuck all
over."

"That is not what I meant and you know it."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do."

"I do what?"

"Aaaargh"

Lucy smirked and turned away to look towards the main
entrance. Elizabeth had been trying to rile her up by calling her all sorts of
vegetables. Hah! Now that same pestering snoot looked ready to explode into a
number of angry pieces.

Her grin widened as the angry snorting noises continued
behind her. She ignored them and instead focused on what was going on
downstairs.

Hodgson was standing with the door open. Lady Sedley
appeared to be giving him some instructions while he was nodding vigorously in
response.

Lucy arched her neck like an inquisitive flamingo. A moment
later, just as she had expected, Lady Sedley, wrapped in a scarlet coat with a
small black hat perched atop her blonde head, walked out into the sunshine.

Lucy gathered her skirts and stepped out from behind the
statue.

Elizabeth, too, stood up, and after throwing Lucy a final
disgusted look pelted down the stairs.

Lucy frowned. Was Elizabeth planning to shadow her mother as
well?

There was only one way to find out. She shuffled her way to
the top of the stairs.

The next part was more difficult. Her makeshift costume
would allow her to blend in with nature easily enough. Once out in the open she
could mingle with the trees and the buds, flit about the garden like a wood
nymph and call upon sparrows, squirrels and bees.

But inside Rudhall manor she stood out like a dog with two
tails, a bird with teeth or a skinny elephant.

Lucy had been right to be fearful. A person wearing twigs
and things did stand out when walking down a grand oak staircase whose fifth,
seventh and twelfth step creaked under stress.

And Susan, the upper housemaid who had a remarkable talent
of efficiently transforming from a lady's maid into a washerwoman at a moment's
notice, was no exception. She swooned at the sight of Lucy drifting down the
stairs.

But before the maid had entirely collapsed in dead faint,
she managed to let out a blood curdling scream that seemed to imply that Aunt
Sedley's ghost had sprouted from the ground like a living shrub.

Lucy was annoyed. She would have preferred if the woman had
likened her to a majestic tree rather than a shrub.

Another squawk from the maid echoed around the manor.

Lucy frowned harder. She had no time to waste. The full
throated cry the woman had let out before draping herself on the sofa was
blasted inconvenient. And the squawk that followed would no doubt bring the
other servants whizzing into the room at any moment.

She hitched up her skirts and flew down the stairs uncaring
of the fact that the carefully attached leaves had unglued from her skirts, the
twigs detached from her bodice, and the tiny white flowers that she had so
prettily arranged in her hair tangled together to form an unattractive lump.

Once outdoors, Lucy lurched towards the nearest tree and hid
behind it. Parting the branches, she peeked down the lane.

She spotted Lady Sedley's scarlet cloak flash around the
corner.

Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.

Breaking off two leafy branches from the tree, she held them
in front of her face and scuttled forward from bush to shrub until once again
Lady Sedley appeared in front of her.

Lucy sucked in a breath and advanced forward imagining
herself to be a seed eating plumed guinea hen. She ducked her featherless head
and winged her way from thicket to thicket, tree to tree, her eyes watering
from the effort of keeping Lady Sedley in view.

No ground nesting bird weighing a few pounds and found in
Sub-Saharan Africa could have spotted a worm with the sort of eyesight Lucy
possessed. She cursed her weak vision annoyed at the disadvantage.

She now decided that she was no longer a plumed guinea hen
but a bounding kangaroo. This seemed to work better. She could feel the bounce
in her toes and the spring in her step. Pleased, she skipped over stones and
hedges trying to guess where Lady Sedley was headed.

Lady Sedley sped down the path taking short, quick steps.
She seemed to be making her way towards the old stables, which as far as Lucy
knew were overgrown and abandoned.

A few minutes later Lucy became certain that she was right.
Lady Sedley was heading to the stables. Surely only some shady business would
take Lady Sedley to this part of the grounds for, after all, the Yellow Garden
was far prettier and frequented more often.

Lucy eagerly scuttled forward, her nose sniffing something
clandestine in the air, and in her eagerness she almost missed the fact that
Lady Sedley had halted. She stifled a squeal, ducked behind a large prickly
bush and peeked out.

Lady Sedley was rapidly shuffling backwards away from the
sharp bend in the road. A moment later she paused and tilted her head as if
listening for something.

Lucy dared to move closer. What had caught Lady Sedley's
interest? Curious to see what lay beyond the curve in the path, she inched her
way towards a tree shaped like a gouty foot that stood a little ahead of Lady
Sedley.

With her heart in her tonsils, Lucy squatted, and then
gingerly lifting her toes scurried past Lady Sedley. "I am a tree, an
invisible tree, a tree … a tree, don't see me," she silently chanted.

A leaf crunched, and Lucy's toe froze in mid-air.

Lady Sedley's head jerked up. She furtively looked around
for the source of the noise.

Lucy stopped breathing.

By some miracle, Lady Sedley failed to spot Lucy's
frightened form trembling a few feet away from her. With a final quick glance
at her surroundings, she went back to eavesdropping.

Droplets of sweat were trickling down the side of Lucy's
face by the time she managed to creep up to her tree of choice. She brushed
them aside and placing her paws on the tree trunk edged her quivering nose
forward.

Ian was back.

He was standing with his foot up on a rock, his black hair
slicked back and plastered to his head. His scalp glowed white in the sunlight
where his oiled hair parted in the middle.

He seemed to be arguing with a fellow blessed with three
chins.

The chins jiggled as the man made a threatening gesture.

Ian's shoulders straightened and he thrust his chest out
like an agitated goose. If he had wings, he would have flapped them at this
point.

Lucy's nose retreated and her ear took its place. It was no
use. She could hear nothing. She was momentarily distracted when Spinoza
suddenly fluttered down from above and settled on her bonnet. The silly raven
was no doubt delighted to find branches sticking out of his favourite perch and
he settled in for a long snooze.

Lucy glared at the bird and bobbed her head in order to
dislodge him. She waved her hands on top of her head, twisted her bonnet round
and round and finally lifted the bonnet clean off her head.

Spinoza eyed her sourly, his claws digging deep into the
bonnet.

Lucy blew into the bird's face.

The raven squawked in protest.

Lady Sedley gave a startled hop and swivelled her head
towards the tree shaped in the form of a gouty foot.

Lucy slowly slithered down the side of the tree trunk.

When Lady Sedley looked back towards Ian, he had already
departed with the dumpy man running after him. With another wary glance at the
tree, Lady Sedley continued on her way to the stables.

Lucy took a deep breath, and depositing the bonnet and the
disgruntled raven atop her head once again crept after Lady Sedley.

Outside the stable was an ornate iron bench. And on that
bench sat Peter.

Lucy's eyes widened at her good luck as Lady Sedley went and
sat down next to her son.

Lucy snuck behind the stables, walked further down the path
and crossed over to the other side. She then backtracked in order to reach a
large fat elm that grew right behind the bench on which Peter and Lady Sedley
were siting.

She plastered her front to the tree trunk and poked her head
out from the side to look at the back of their heads.

One of her branches scraped the tree.

Peter glanced back, his eyes narrowed.

She stopped breathing wondering if he had seen her. It
seemed not for he turned back to his mother.

He took a pinch of snuff and delicately held it to his nose
with skeletal fingers. "We could have spoken in the house."

"Too many ears," Lady Sedley replied.

"What is it, Mother?"

"Have you taken the jewels?" she asked bluntly.

"I am now the owner of Rudhall and all it contains. Why
would I need to steal from myself?"

Lady Sedley replied broodingly, "I cannot understand
how it happened? The only person I can trust is you, since we were together at
the time your father was murdered. I know we did not do it, but I am worried.
What if it was one of your siblings?"

Peter closed the snuff box and replaced it in his pocket. He
raised his face to the sky. "I was certain this morning it was going to
storm this afternoon."

Lady Sedley pulled at the edge of her glove as if it was too
tight. "But how could they have gone past without us seeing anything? How
do you think they did it?"

Peter shook his head. "And now, look, not a cloud in
the sky. I would have had to stay the night in the animal house if it had stormed.
The animals become frightened easily and a part of the roof leaks—"

Lady Sedley grabbed his arm and shook it slightly. "You
have to help me find the jewels."

He blinked in surprise. "Do you want to find the jewels
or the murderer?"

"I want to find the jewels and protect my children if
they killed him."

"I see," Peter said, a curious note in his voice.

"You need to forget about your animals and stand by
your family instead. Lord Adair has always found the culprit, and if it is
Elizabeth or Ian, then we have to find out before he does and help them escape
the country."

"This sudden affection, this interest in involving me
in your affairs … I hope, Mother, it is not because I am now the master of the
house."

"Don't be ridiculous, Peter. You are my son—"

Peter leaped up. "I need to see to my animals."

"I will make more of an effort—"

"I have asked you six times in the last month to come
and see the kittens that I have recently procured. You have ignored me every
single time. You have never taken an interest in my affairs, so now why should
I involve myself in yours?"

"I will come and see them … I will make more of effort.
We will all come."

"Good day, Mother."

Lady Sedley gripped his sleeve refusing to let him leave.
"Don't be ridiculous. This is about your own brother and sister. How can
you be so childish—?"

"Good evening."

Lucy started and turned towards the voice. Her eyes widened
below her lopsided bonnet, and she inhaled sharply.

Lord Adair stood before them wearing a thick, luxurious dark
blue wool coat with large collars and cuffs adorned with glittering silver
buttons and dove grey embroidery. A light waistcoat peeked out from behind the
coat, beautiful leather gloves covered his long fingers, and his muscled legs
were clad in dark buckskin breeches and spotless grey riding boots.

The robes he had worn previously became a distant memory for
all those who looked upon him now.

Lucy's eyes glazed over, and she wiped away a touch of drool
near the corner of her mouth. He was just so … so … well proportioned.

"We were just leaving." Lady Sedley discordant
voice wriggled its way into Lucy's besotted ears. "I apologise for my
curtness, Lord Adair, but it is a bitter day, is it not? I am in a rush to get
warm and indoors."

Lord Adair bowed, his eyes lingering on her scarlet coat.
"You don't need to apologise. No doubt the cold is affecting your delicate
health."

She flushed. "Yes, well," Her hand stroked the
coat, "I was distraught after the funeral. I didn't realise I picked up
the red instead of the black—"

Lord Adair shrugged and said blandly, "You don't have
to explain. No doubt grief has sapped you of your ability to perceive the
difference between colours."

"The sun is sinking rapidly," she said in
confusion. Her limbs jerked awkwardly as she stood up. "I will see you at
dinner?"

Lord Adair bowed once more.

Peter, with an incoherent mumbled apology, caught his
mother's arm and led her towards the manor.

"Peter is shy in front of all strangers, is he
not?"

Lucy glanced around. She could see no one. Who in the world
was Lord Adair talking to?

"He is remarkable with animals. Gentle, kind and
confident, and yet around humans he becomes a frightened filly."

Lucy stopped herself from nodding in time. A nodding tree
wouldn’t have looked right.

"He seems to like you. How long did it take before he
opened up to you? And I hear Ian has returned."

The raven woke up and hopped onto her shoulder. Lucy shared
a puzzled glance with the bird. Was the cold pushing Lord Adair over the edge?
Was she witnessing a man slowly lose his mind in front of her very eyes?

"Peter saw you, Miss Trotter. How could he not spot
such an odd looking tree? The leaves do not match, you have procured different
branches from different trees, and your black shoes peeking out under your
brown skirts are stark against the snow."

Lucy shuffled out in annoyance. "Lady Sedley did not
see me. I think it worked remarkably well."

He smiled and offered her his arm. "I have always
wanted to stroll with a wood nymph."

Lucy threw the branch she was holding in her hand and
grabbed his arm in relief. Warmth emanated from him in waves and she sighed in
pleasure.

His hard muscles rippled under her fingers and she flushed,
becoming warmer still. "The lace near your collar is divine," she
gibbered to hide her confusion.

"You have a good eye," he said thoughtfully.
"This lace carries an enchanting tale."

"Tell me."

He looked down at her."Once upon a time, beautiful
young women with streams of golden hair were stolen from their English homes
and brought over to Greece on a gilded ship. They were then set to work, and
the result of their hard labour was a bolt of precious lace. I procured this
bit from them for a very high sum."

Her eyes widened. “Truly?"

"No."

She stared out into the distance. "Well, the dress I am
wearing was made by a young woman. Not beautiful, but plain and loving … a
friend." She gulped emotionally. "She was very ill at the time. I
would sit by her and sings songs for her while she worked on my dress. It may
not look beautiful, but its value is hidden in every single thread. She died
soon after making it."

"Truly?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"No."

They walked in silence for some time.

"What sort of a tree nymph do I remind you off?"
she asked, skirting a wooden log fallen in the path.

"Erato."

"And you are Arcas?"

He smiled reluctantly.

She caught her breath, "A few married people in my
village … they looked similar."

"Eh?"

"People, they are young, they get married, and then
after a few years they both start looking the same. The man looks like the woman
and the woman looks like the man, and even the pets in the house start looking
like their owners, and before you know it everyone in the family looks like the
same person just wearing dresses, breeches or fur."

"I have noticed that."

"Do you think," she asked hopefully, "that if
I flutter around you long enough, some of your beauty will spill onto me in a
similar manner?"

His smile widened. "You are bewitching, Miss
Trotter."

"I don't believe you."

He shrugged.

She frowned. "Aren't you going to convince me
otherwise?"

"It would take an entire lifetime to convince a woman
of her beauty and even then she would doubt it."

"I have a gap in my front teeth."

"I know."

"That is not attractive."

"No, it is delightful."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"You are not lying?"

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"You don't sound certain."

"Miss Trotter.” He pressed his lips together.

She squinted as the sun brightened and bounced off the snow.
"That certain was a very uncertain certain. I don't think you were
certain. You just said you were certain to make me think that you were certain
when, in fact, you were not certain."

"Are you trying to test my patience?" he asked in
a soft warning tone.

"You were certain," she assured him hurriedly.

After that they walked the rest of the way in silence and
entered the house together.

Lady Sedley met them near the door. She reeled back at the
sight of Lucy and her mouth fell open in shock. After a tense moment, she used
a word Lucy had only heard the servants utter before.

Lucy giggled. Dressed up as a tree with a raven on her head
and holding a handsome man's arm … She completely agreed with Lady Sedley.

Lawks! It truly was.