Murder at the Hunt Ball : A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery Page 7

  Lotte, or rather, Cousin Ophelia, tipped her head back and produced a loud roar of a laugh at something Twiggy Lloyd said.

  While Twiggy Lloyd’s remark had amused Lotte, Marjorie Devon, who sat next to Twiggy Lloyd, did not look amused.

  If Sterling Wright had recognized Lotte he did not let on. He sat next to Evie and his remark set her at ease.

  “I’m glad to see your cousin is enjoying herself.”

  “You sound surprised,” Evie replied.

  “To tell the truth, I did not expect to experience the pleasure of such lively company in the country. In fact, I’d almost given up hope of enjoying the type of entertainment one is used to in town. In the country, everyone appears eager to keep up appearances and behave in an acceptable manner. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect to see anyone dancing on top of tables.”

  Cousin Ophelia laughed again giving Evie the opportunity to study Sterling Wright. He really didn’t appear to have noticed the disguise.

  It reminded her of an incident she’d read about when she’d first arrived in England in 1910 about a hoax masterminded by the prankster Horace de Vere Cole.

  A group of friends had disguised themselves as Abyssinian royalty and had sent a telegram to the Commander of the Home Fleet saying the group of Abyssinians were due to arrive in Dorset and he should arrange to meet them. Regardless of the short notice, they were greeted with pomp and ceremony, with a band playing the British and Abyssinian national anthems. Absolutely no one had suspected a hoax until the prankster leaked the story to the newspapers.

  People see what they expect to see, Evie mused as Cousin Ophelia shared a tale about a ride on an elephant in India, which further embellished her disguise.

  Evie turned her attention to Marjorie Devon who sat across the table from her.

  They hadn’t discussed tactics so Evie decided to focus on observing and keeping her eyes open for anything unusual. So far, she hadn’t heard anyone mention rosebud green. But she had come to believe that could be a key to the threats.

  “I hope your cousin attends the ball,” Sterling said.

  “She wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for extending the invitation.”

  Cousin Ophelia gestured to a footman who promptly refilled her glass and not for the first time. She’d already imbibed a couple of drinks before dinner. Maybe they would witness some dancing on tables, after all.

  “I feel for your grandmama,” Sterling said. “Lady Henrietta is trying without success to get a conversation out of Matthew Prentiss but I’m afraid the man only ever talks about horses and money.”

  “Does he bemoan the lack of it?” Evie asked.

  “Oh, no. He’s a banker and that’s all he knows. Apart from horses, of course. He’s been trying to induce me to partner with him in the purchase of a horse. At least, that’s all he’s been talking to me about but, in reality, I know he wishes to invest in my latest acquisition, Mighty Warrior.” He picked up his glass of wine and looked at it. “I’m thinking of changing its name to something quaint.”

  “Rosebud green,” Evie suggested and watched to see his reaction.

  “That’s interesting. Where have I heard it before? I suppose it will come to me.”

  “Have you asked your fiancée for suggestions?”

  “I did. She liked Bonbon.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  He nodded. “Marjorie is partial to chocolates.”

  Could rosebud green be the name of a confectionary? “What color is the horse?”

  “Brown.”

  Just brown? How unusual. Normally, owners would note the remarkable markings and praise the unique shade of color.

  “It’s arriving tomorrow. I’m hoping to come up with a new name before his previous owner, George Stevens, arrives.”

  “Is he attending the ball?”

  “Yes and I think he’s had a change of heart and wishes to strike a deal.”

  “Seller’s remorse?”

  “Something like that. One never likes to ask but I believe he might have experienced financial difficulties which he has now overcome.”

  “And you want to change the name of the horse to affirm your ownership.”

  He grinned. “I’m hoping he’ll get the message. I’d hate to have to spell it out to him.”

  Evie thought she heard him murmur rosebud green a couple of times as if still trying to recall where he’d heard it before.

  Was rosebud green nothing more than a sudden stroke of inspiration? Maybe the word combination had come to Marjorie and she’d rushed home to suggest it to her fiancé. Maybe that’s why he thought he’d heard it mentioned.

  With the last course served and enjoyed, it was Evie’s duty, as the highest-ranking member of the party, to rise. The ladies followed suit and made their way out of the dining room leaving the gentlemen to their brandy and cigars. Cousin Ophelia swayed several times but succeeded in straightening herself, twice by holding on to Evie.

  “Did you plan that?” Evie whispered. She knew Lotte could hold her liquor but she’d never seen her drinking so much.

  She glanced at her inebriated soon to be business partner in time to see her wink.

  Whatever plan she’d hatched clearly involved drinking herself into a stupor or somehow pretending to do so.

  When they settled in the drawing room, Lotte helped herself to a glass of brandy and tossed it back in one gulp.

  “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep in a chair,” she slurred.

  “We’ll have to carry you out to the motor car.”

  Lotte winked at her again. “Or, you could just leave me here to sleep it off.”

  Joining them, Tom said, “Do you need propping up?”

  Clearly, he’d noticed Lotte’s excessive drinking.

  “I think this is her plan,” Evie whispered and pictured Lotte haunting the hallways in the middle of the night. What did she hope to find? She wished they could all just stop and decide how they were going to proceed. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be drinking your brandy and smoking your cigar with the men.”

  Tom winced. “I’m not really a brandy drinker or a cigar smoker.”

  “That’s beside the point. You should be there listening to their conversation.”

  “Why? Do you think one of them is going to talk about rosebud green?”

  “Maybe.”

  Caro joined them. “There were not enough gentlemen so I sat between Miss Devon and Cousin Henrietta. She spent the entire dinner poking me in the ribs and prompting me to ask Miss Devon pertinent questions.”

  “And did you?” Evie asked.

  Caro shrugged. “I couldn’t think of anything that might lead her to divulge the secrets of rosebud green.” Caro winced. “I really don’t respond well to violent prompts. I wouldn’t be surprised if I wake up with bruises on my side.”

  Lowering her voice to a whisper, Evie said, “I wish we could dismiss it but when I mentioned rosebud green to Sterling Wright he said it sounded familiar.”

  Henrietta and Sara entered the drawing room with Marjorie Devon between them.

  The young woman looked somewhat bewildered. She searched the room and, finding Helena Lloyd helping herself to a drink, she excused herself and walked across the room to join her.

  “What on earth were you saying to Marjorie?” Evie asked. “She looked almost desperate to escape you.”

  Henrietta laughed. “We were simply telling her about the joys of country living. The poor girl has no idea.”

  “I think you’ve just succeeded in frightening her away. Sterling Wright is going to be mystified when she suddenly packs her bags and demands to return to London. How did you phrase your information?”

  “Politely, of course. We told her she’d have to entertain the local vicar. The poor man stutters. But I fail to see why that should put her off. Oh, I also mentioned the vicar enjoys rosebuds, especially the ones tinged with green. That’s when she excused herself.”

  Ha
d that been coincidental or had Marjorie Devon reacted to Henrietta’s mention of words that had also made her suddenly leave Mrs. Green’s establishment?

  Henrietta glanced at Lotte. “Why is Cousin Ophelia tilting?”

  “Never mind her. I’ve just remembered something. With all the excitement about the piece of paper and rosebud green, I forgot to mention something else. We need to know where Marjorie Devon went after she left Mrs. Green’s establishment in such a hurry. Can you engage your secret service people? Someone must have seen where she went.”

  “I’ll alert my butler as soon as we return. He’ll be only too happy to help, I’m sure.”

  Evie’s heart gave a thump of alarm.

  “Countess? You look pale.”

  “Where’s Toodles?”

  As if on cue, her granny walked in and made her way to the drinks table.

  “Were you afraid something had happened to her?” Tom asked.

  She didn’t want to admit it. However, she couldn’t help feeling on edge. “I can’t explain it. Lotte’s investigation has been almost uneventful. Now, I feel something is about to happen.”

  “Either you have developed a nose for such things or you’re disappointed with your official foray into the world of private detecting and you actually want something to happen.”

  “What nonsense. I hope you’re not about to label me the doomsayer Countess.”

  Tom laughed. “Oh, there’s an idea.”

  “What did I miss?” Toodles asked as she approached them.

  “Your granddaughter thought you might have become a victim. Have you been generous with her in your will?” Tom asked.

  Rolling her eyes, Evie smiled at Toodles. “It seems Cousin Ophelia has overdone it. She’s fallen asleep and we might have to impose on Sterling Wright’s generosity.” For effect, Evie nudged Cousin Ophelia with her foot and, raising her voice slightly, she added, “See, she’s quite out of it and almost a deadweight, I’m sure. We won’t be able to budge her or even stir her awake.”

  Chapter 9

  The sleep of the innocent

  Halton House

  “I slept like a log,” Toodles declared as she sat down to breakfast the next morning.

  “Well, I’m glad someone did.” Evie looked over at the clock on the mantle. At some point, she would have to send someone over to Hillsboro Lodge to deliver a change of clothes for Cousin Ophelia. Only then would she know Lotte had come to no harm during the night.

  Toodles looked up from her hearty breakfast. “Oh? Did your conscience keep you awake?”

  It took a moment for Evie to remember the remark Tom had made in jest the previous evening. “Grans, I promise I’m not after your fortune.”

  “And yet that doesn’t inspire confidence in me. Perhaps you should add something about not wishing me harm.” Toodles took a sip of her coffee. “Actually, I think you’ll have to be more specific because you could kill me and declare you never actually wished to kill me…”

  Tom entered the morning room and helped himself to a generous breakfast. “I seem to have walked in on a private conversation.”

  Evie looked at Edgar who stood by overseeing the footmen. “Edgar, could you please send word to Caro. Tell her we’re expecting Lady Carolina to breakfast with us.”

  Edgar inclined his head and, bless his soul, proceeded to do as asked without a single word of disapproval.

  Turning to Tom, Evie smiled. “Thanks to you, my grandmother is going to be locking her doors and looking over her shoulder.” She glanced at Toodles. “I’d watch out for this one. Maybe he wants to get in your good graces and inherit from you.”

  Edgar returned momentarily and informed Evie, “I found Caro in the kitchen. She was surprised by your request but she assured me she will rush to prepare Lady Carolina.”

  “Thank you, Edgar.”

  Toodles took a leisurely sip of her coffee. “A part of me thinks I should find that conversation disturbing, but I read the newspapers this morning and I must say I prefer this reality to the one out there.”

  Evie turned to the butler again, “Oh, Edgar.”

  Edgar stopped and turned. “Yes, my lady?”

  “Before Caro attends to Lady Carolina, ask her to please collect some suitable clothes for Cousin Ophelia. As soon as they’re ready, Edmonds can drive over to Hillsboro Lodge and deliver them.”

  “Certainly, my lady.”

  Frowning, Evie looked at Toodles. Belatedly, she said, “Why would you find that conversation disturbing?”

  Toodles shrugged. “You’re right. I have no reason to do so. I only hope Caro doesn’t suffer some sort of personality disorder. You should at least give the girl some warning.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Grans. But you shouldn’t underestimate Caro. She is most efficient and quick to jump into action.”

  “And are we jumping into action today?” Tom asked.

  Evie couldn’t think of what else they could do. “The Hunt Ball is tonight. Going to Hillsboro Lodge this morning or this afternoon is out of the question. Even if I could come up with a reasonable excuse to make a sudden appearance before tonight.” So far, no one had been hurt. However, Evie wouldn’t mind discovering the identity of the person who’d sent the threatening letters. What if they meant to take their threats a step further?

  “We could spy from afar,” Toodles suggested.

  Evie looked up at the ceiling. “Why is my mind suddenly flooded with images of you climbing up a tree and me following you?”

  “Where does that leave me?” Tom asked.

  Evie grinned. “Being a gentleman and making sure we don’t fall.”

  As they turned their focus to their breakfast, Edgar returned and, soon after, they heard hurried steps approaching. The door opened and Henrietta walked in, her hand to her chest.

  Henrietta glanced around the room. “Oh, thank goodness. You are all still here.”

  Sara appeared behind Henrietta. “I told you we didn’t need to hurry. No one in their right mind sets out at this time of the morning.”

  “Have you had breakfast?” Evie asked even as Edgar directed the footmen to organize two extra place settings.

  “No. I skipped breakfast because I have news I received early this morning,” Henrietta declared. “News from you know who and it couldn’t wait.”

  News relating to Miss Devon’s activities? It had to be and, clearly, Henrietta wished to protect her informant’s identity which happened to be her butler.

  Henrietta began by saying, “Yesterday afternoon, Miss Marjorie Devon departed Mrs. Green’s establishment in haste. Of course, we all knew that,” Henrietta gave a firm nod. “But here’s what we didn’t know. The baker’s wife claims she might have been injured if she hadn’t stopped and turned to shout at her husband. You see, she had just been about to cross the road when Miss Devon’s motor sped by at full speed. The baker’s store, as you know, is located at the end of the street so the baker’s wife can confirm Miss Devon left the village without stopping.”

  “But what about before that?” Sara asked. “I’ve been trying to reason with Henrietta but she feels this is enough to prove Miss Devon did not stop elsewhere. I disagree.”

  Henrietta smiled. “You were so fierce in your opposition, I withheld the rest of the information.”

  Before Henrietta and Sara could tangle themselves up in an argument, Evie prodded Henrietta to divulge the rest of her closely guarded secret.

  “Miss Devon did make another stop. She went to the tearoom. She only spent a few minutes in there and when she exited she carried a small parcel.”

  Sara harrumphed. “A small parcel? She probably purchased some cakes and that’s why the baker’s wife is so intent on portraying her exodus from the village with such dark undertones.”

  Henrietta tilted her head. “Sara, I never knew you could be so melodramatic.” After a moment, she added, “But I suppose you’re right. I will have to check with my sources to see if there is any animosity be
tween the baker’s wife and the tearoom owner. As it is, the fact Miss Devon stopped to purchase some cakes tells us that we might have been hasty in assuming she fled from the dressmaker’s establishment after scribbling a cryptic message.” Henrietta drummed her fingers on the table and said in a pensive tone, “Rosebud green. What could it possibly mean?”

  Everyone sat back and murmured, “Rosebud green.”

  When Caro, dressed as Lady Carolina, walked in, she found them still staring into space. “Heavens, have you all been hypnotized?”

  Evie snapped out of her reverie. “Cousin Carolina. Good morning.” In a moment of clarity, she remembered she was also talking to Caro, her maid, who had already enjoyed her breakfast with the rest of the servants. Suddenly, she couldn’t resist the temptation. “We’re still eating breakfast. Do join us. You must be famished.”

  Caro patted her stomach. “Oh, actually…”

  Henrietta encouraged. “Oh, don’t be shy. We know you have a healthy appetite.”

  Caro relented. “Perhaps some tea and toast.”

  Henrietta smiled at Caro and gave her a brief summary. “We were just discussing the news I brought.”

  “I must say,” Evie mused, “I had hoped Miss Devon had rushed to the postal office to send a telegram.”

  Henrietta looked at her with interest. “In order to alert someone? Did you think rosebud green was some sort of code name?”

  “It could be a destination,” Caro offered as she buttered her toast.

  They all turned to look at her.

  Evie clapped and exclaimed, “Cousin Carolina, that is ingenious.”

  Her maid’s cheeks flooded with a twinge of pink. “It’s something worth considering. It could also be the name of a horse. People place bets on them and maybe… maybe she received a tip or inside information and only then, when she sat at Mrs. Green’s, did she remember it.”

  Sara smiled. “I’ve heard say breakfast is the most important meal of the day because it fuels your brain.” She surged to her feet and headed straight for the sideboard with its abundant offer of food.