Murder at the Hunt Ball : A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery Read online

  Evie tapped her fingers on the armrest. “I wonder if Toodles will be satisfied.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be? She’s been encouraging you to take an interest and pushing you in that particular direction.”

  “Yes, but… She’ll probably wish me to become the leading lady detective. I’m afraid I’ll find myself in competition right alongside Lotte. Knowing Toodles, she’ll want to push me into crossing the ocean and expanding the business.”

  “That should be easy enough. Lotte already travels a great deal.” Tom stood up and went to stand by the window. “Have you given any thought to the threatening letters Miss Devon has been receiving?”

  “If I have, it doesn’t necessarily mean I will be agreeing to become Lotte’s associate. Will I need to work my social schedule around the business?”

  Tom looked over his shoulder and gave her a raised eyebrow look.

  “You know all my social engagements are planned in advance. If I’m suddenly dragged away, I’ll have to explain my absence. Over time, I imagine I will come down with a multitude of ailments as an excuse for bowing out of a commitment. I’ll be known as the malingering Countess.” Evie looked toward the window. “I suspect Lotte will use me as a foot in the door associate.”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “That’s because the idea is beginning to take hold.” Evie sat up and suggested, “We should drive up to Hillsboro Lodge and mingle.”

  “Get the lay of the land?”

  “Yes. There are bound to be some early arrivals and everyone else taking part in the hunt.” She leaned over and picked up the newspaper Tom had been reading. “Did you come across any photos of Sterling Wright? I can’t remember what he looks like.”

  At the sound of voices approaching the library, they both turned toward the door.

  Edgar walked in and tried to announce the arrivals but they simply barged in.

  Lotte? Still dressed as a beggar woman…

  Evie looked at the woman standing next to Lotte shoulder to shoulder and tried to place her. She looked familiar. After a moment, Evie remembered seeing her coming out of Mrs. Green’s dressmaking establishment earlier in the day.

  Miss Marjorie Devon, she presumed.

  Lotte released her hold on the hessian bags she’d been carrying and crossed her arms. “Miss Devon, this is the Countess of Woodridge and this is Tom Winchester. Lady Woodridge… would you mind explaining to Miss Devon I mean no harm?”

  Lotte’s cheeks were flushed with red blotches and her lips pressed together so hard, they showed white at the edges. She looked out of breath. Her eyes, made larger by the spectacles she wore, danced around from side to side. Evie had trouble understanding the significance. Was Lotte trying to convey a message?

  “I take it you need your identity confirmed.”

  “Yes. Please tell Miss Devon she has no need to contact the police.” This time, Lotte’s eyebrows bobbed up and down.

  “Why does she wish to contact the police?” Evie asked.

  “Because she thinks I’m responsible for sending her threatening letters. I have no idea what she’s talking about.” Lotte took a visible swallow and wailed, “I’m illegitimate.”

  “Illegitimate?”

  “I can’t even write.”

  “Oh, I think you mean illiterate.”

  Miss Devon harrumphed. “That’s a likely excuse. You could get someone else to write the letters for you.” The young woman smirked at Lotte. “This… This person is a lunatic. She’s been following me all day long. It’s clear she intends to do something to me. And, for all I know, you are her accomplice.”

  Miss Marjorie Devon stood a head taller than Lotte. Her tailored clothes looked disheveled. As she spoke, she shook her head. Evie watched her hat shift and slide off her.

  “She kept screaming she’s just a poor old woman trying to scratch a living,” Marjorie Devon complained as she caught the hat and adjusted it in place.

  Evie exchanged a knowing look with Tom. Clearly, Lotte hadn’t given herself away and she wanted her identity to remain a secret.

  “How exactly did you get here?” Evie asked. They were within walking distance of the village, but she couldn’t imagine them trekking out here in the middle of a dispute that threatened to involve the local constabulary.

  “She chased me here!” Marjorie Devon declared, her voice rising to a high pitch. “Every time I tried to sidestep her, she cornered me. I thought she wanted to lead me to an alley where she could clobber me and rob me. Then she ended up herding me here. Yes, that’s what she did. She herded me here.”

  Dragging two hessian bags? How had she managed it?

  Edgar cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “My lady, I can confirm that. I first caught sight of them running across the park. Miss Devon clearly wished to escape but… this one here had her arms spread out as she screeched and roared like a deranged woman.”

  Instead of looking offended by the way Edgar had referred to her, Lotte appeared to be quite pleased with herself.

  Miss Devon flung her arms out. “I abandoned my motor car in the village. Who knows if it will still be there when I return. What if she had an accomplice who drove away with it?”

  Why had Lotte herded Miss Devon here? Did she have a specific plan in mind? If they were to become associates, she would have to learn to read Lotte’s mind and interpret her prompts.

  Pretending to be unaware of the full picture, Evie tried to look surprised and confused. Her tone remained calm as she said, “I don’t understand how it could have happened. She’s so much older than you. I’m sure you could have defended yourself.”

  Miss Devon’s eyebrows drew down and she demanded, “Is she who she says she is?”

  Convinced Lotte wished to continue portraying herself as an indigent woman, Evie nodded. “As a matter of fact, she sometimes lives on the estate… in the hermit’s hut. I can assure you, she is quite harmless. Although, sometimes, she goes on a rampage. Maybe that’s what happened today. Maybe your accusations triggered it.” Struck by inspiration, Evie added, “Loony Lotte, that’s her name, is very sensitive to the slightest provocation. The poor, deranged woman was probably trying to seek refuge here and you misread her actions.”

  Marjorie Devon’s eyes widened. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

  Evie stood up. The young woman looked flustered and determined to have the matter resolved in her favor so Evie chose diversion as the best course of action.

  “Miss Devon, I apologize for Loony Lotte’s behavior. As she is my occasional guest, I feel responsible for her and I would hate for anything to happen to her. Would you allow us to drive you home or to the village to collect your motor car? I’m sure it’s still there and no harm has come to it. Despite what you might think, this is a safe village.”

  Miss Devon appeared to think it over. “You need to control this woman. She is a threat to society.”

  Thankfully, Tom stepped in with a diversion of his own. “I’ll get the motor car ready.”

  “Tom, perhaps you should get Edmonds to drive us and you can follow,” Evie suggested.

  Tom nodded and left to organize it.

  Noticing Miss Devon was about to protest, Evie turned to Edgar. “Would you please show Loony Lotte to the kitchen and make sure she’s fed and sent on her way? I’m sure she’ll wish to spend some quiet time in the hermit’s hut reflecting on the error of her ways.”

  Instead of protesting, Lotte huffed and, collecting her bags full of rags, she followed Edgar out.

  Evie turned to Miss Devon and smiled. “I still find the idea of having a hut for hermits rather amusing. It’s only when I came to England that I heard about the old practice. Before Loony Lotte took up residence, it had sat empty for a number of years. I suppose there is a scarcity of hermits…”

  Miss Devon’s brow furrowed and she gave a firm nod.

  Interpreting this as a sign she meant to take up her cause again and demand some sort of satisfaction, Evie said, �
��I would offer you refreshments but you seem to be eager to return to your motor car.” Evie excused herself and went to fetch a coat.

  She could have sent for Caro, but she wished to avoid an encounter between her maid and Miss Devon. Caro, Evie thought, might be required to make an appearance at Hillsboro Lodge as her alter ego, Lady Carolina Thwaites, her cousin thrice removed.

  As she came down the stairs, she found Miss Devon pacing in front of the fireplace in the hall.

  Looking up, she gave Evie a tentative smile. “Lady Woodridge, I should apologize for my outburst. I’ve been on tenterhooks all week. Every time I came to the village, I had this overwhelming feeling someone was following me.”

  Lotte wouldn’t be happy about that, Evie thought. She took great pride in the effectiveness of her disguises as well as her skills as a detective.

  Why had Marjorie Devon continued to drive to the village? And why hadn’t her fiancé told her about the measures he’d taken?

  She had recently had a similar experience with Tom keeping secrets from her. At the time, she had been distracted by everything else going on in her life. However, she had made it clear she would never stand for such tactics again. Unlike other women who might have kicked up a fuss, she’d understood his reasonings. Still, she had made him promise he would never do it again.

  “I didn’t realize our little village held so many attractions,” Evie said conversationally.

  Marjorie Devon gave a small shrug. “Mrs. Green’s dressmaking establishment is surprisingly good.”

  “Is Mrs. Green making clothes for you?” Evie asked as they stepped outside and walked toward the waiting Duesenberg.

  “I already have my trousseau organized,” Marjorie Devon explained. “Oh, did I mention I am engaged? No, I don’t suppose I did. Anyhow, one can never have too much. In truth, I’m afraid I’m not an enthusiastic country person. Everyone staying at Hillsboro Lodge is keen to ride. I don’t mind it but it seems too much when you’re expected to go out every day.”

  “So you escape to our little village,” Evie offered.

  Marjorie nodded. “It is quaint.”

  Edmonds held the door open for them. Settling into the back seat of the Duesenberg, Evie glanced over her shoulder and saw Tom ready to follow them in the roadster.

  As they drove off, Evie gave Miss Devon a worried smile. “My apologies for Looney Lotte’s behavior and thank you for not reporting her to the constabulary. It is very decent of you. She’s had a very difficult life.”

  Marjorie Devon shifted in her seat. “Yes, well… I suppose one must do what one can for her sort. Although, why she is allowed to roam freely is beyond me. She is a danger to society.”

  Evie offered her an encouraging smile. “I hope this doesn’t stop you from coming to our lovely village.”

  Marjorie Devon persevered, “Someone should do something about her.”

  Evie assured her, “I’ll do my best to get through to her.”

  “Yes, please do. I still have a couple of fittings at Mrs. Green’s and I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder.”

  “I’ll be happy to accompany you,” Evie offered.

  “Oh, that’s kind of you but I prefer to go alone. It’s the only time I seem to have to myself.”

  Evie gave her an understanding smile. “I might see you there at some point. Mrs. Green is making me a dress for the Hunt Ball and I have an appointment for a fitting.” Evie made a mental note to contact Mrs. Green and inform her of her plans.

  Marjorie Devon’s brows wrinkled with concern and focus. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Evie watched as Miss Devon appeared to debate a major issue. She hoped the young woman wouldn’t insist on reporting Lotte’s antics.

  She continued to frown and stare fixedly ahead.

  Evie set her age at twenty-five, perhaps younger. Too young to have any significant concerns weighing her thoughts.

  From one moment to the next, Marjorie Devon’s worried look evaporated and she gave Evie a bright smile. “I had a new dress made especially for the ball. But Mrs. Green has enticed me with a new one and now I’ll have to decide which one to wear. I only hope I don’t clash with another guest.”

  “You can at least avoid clashing with a guest staying at the house by sending your maid on a spying mission,” Evie suggested.

  She seemed to like the idea.

  “Have any of the guests arrived?” Evie asked.

  “Yes, most of the avid riders who live in town. Sterling has a splendid stable. Although, some have brought their own mounts. The rest of the guests are trickling in.”

  “Do you ride?”

  “Occasionally, yes. It depends on the weather. I hate going out when it drizzles. It does my hair no good.”

  Seeing Edmonds driving at an unusually slow speed, Evie wondered if Tom had suggested it so she could take advantage of their brief time together and question Miss Devon.

  “I wonder if I’ll know anyone,” Evie mused. “I met your fiancé once, but only briefly.”

  “I’m sure you’ll know most of the local people. Then, there’s Twiggy Lloyd. He has already settled in. He arrived the day before yesterday.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know him.”

  “He’s a racing enthusiast. Despite his name, he’s quite robust. He came with his wife, Helena.” Marjorie Devon tapped her chin. “Then there’s Matthew Prentiss and his wife, Pamela. Archie Arthurs came alone. They are all involved in horse racing. Sterling says this ball is my opportunity to become acquainted with the locals.” She gave Evie a pointed look.

  “You’ll have an interesting story to tell about our first encounter.” Evie cleared her throat and broached the subject uppermost in her mind. “Why did you think Looney Lotte wrote you threatening letters?”

  Marjorie Devon bounced on her seat and pointed ahead. “Oh, thank heavens. There’s my motor car.”

  Edmonds slowed down and parked behind the little roadster.

  Evie waited for Marjorie Devon to respond. When she didn’t, Evie made a mental note to look into Miss Devon’s background. Why would someone send her threatening letters and how many had they sent… and what did they say?

  As soon as Edmonds opened the door for her, Marjorie rushed out saying, “Thank you, Lady Woodridge. You have been most kind.”

  Evie called out, “Tom and I will follow you back to make sure you arrive safely.” Evie had to move fast. As she hurried toward the roadster, she called out, “Thank you, Edmonds. Mr. Winchester will drive me back.”

  When she settled in the passenger seat, Tom laughed. “Follow that roadster?”

  “Yes. My heavens.” Evie adjusted her hat. “She’s in a hurry to get away.”

  Tom glanced at her. “From the village, from the awkward experience with Loony Lotte or from you?”

  Staring straight ahead, Evie said, “That woman is up to something.”

  “Does this mean you’re officially on the case?”

  “Yes.” In the next breath, Evie laughed. “I wish I’d seen Lotte chasing Marjorie Devon across the park.”

  Chapter 4

  Hillsboro Lodge

  Tom and Evie raced through the countryside with Marjorie Devon whizzing past the gates to the estate ahead of them.

  Tom managed to keep up with her so they were able to see her bringing her roadster to a screeching halt in front of the entrance to Hillsboro Lodge where a footman promptly appeared to greet her.

  Evie had never visited Hillsboro Lodge. The gray stoned manor house faced a lake and a park with visible trails weaving around it. It appeared to be a sizeable estate—a testament to Sterling Wright’s wealth.

  “Are we inviting ourselves in?” Tom asked.

  “Let me catch my breath. Heavens, I’m accustomed to your fast driving but Miss Devon is a daredevil behind the wheel. I’ve never seen such reckless driving.”

  Marjorie Devon had skidded a couple of times but had managed to get the motor car under control. The near misses had not stopped her from
dashing off at a mad pace.

  “We might be in luck.” Tom signaled ahead. “It looks like she’s alerting the footman to our presence. Then again, she might be asking him to contact the local constabulary because she’s been chased by a couple of lunatics.”

  “Mr. Winchester, you have a wild imagination.”

  “I’m trying to fit in.” Tom leaned forward and looked across the park. “Hello, what’s that?”

  Evie followed his gaze.

  They saw a man dismount and march toward another man on a horse.

  “He’s not at all pleased. He’s stomping toward the other rider,” Evie observed. “Is he waving his whip?”

  Tom agreed, “They’re definitely having words.”

  “Twiggy Lloyd doesn’t look at all happy.”

  “How do you know his name?”

  “I’m guessing. Marjorie Devon described him as robust. I’m inclined to amend it to rotund. He is rather chubby.”

  “And yet, he looked quite agile dismounting the horse.”

  “True.”

  They continued to watch them. Even from a distance, they could see they were arguing; their aggressive posturing included fisted hands, finger pointing and even the brandishing of their whips.

  “It’s now beginning to feel awkward,” Evie murmured. Were they witnessing an ongoing dispute or the result of some sort of mishap on the field? They’d already seen Miss Devon home safely. Should they move on or wait to see if they were invited in?

  “I hope you’re not about to suggest I try to intervene. I’d either have to clamber all the way up that hill or drive up. I’m sure Sterling Wright won’t enjoy having his lawn ruined with track marks.”

  The argument came to an end when the rider trotted toward the house. When he reached the courtyard, a groom rushed up and assisted him by taking the reins.

  The man dismounted and walked toward Marjorie Devon. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek.

  “That must be Sterling Wright.” And he had been arguing with Twiggy Lloyd.

  Tom nudged her. “Marjorie Devon is telling him about us. She keeps looking toward us and she looks worried.”