Ashes of Roses

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “What would an outsider be wantin’, that would take him down that hall, to that suite of rooms?” housemaid Irma puzzled. “There was to be no one stayin’ in that wing, not until the room assignments was changed on Tuesday. If ‘twas yourselves he was after, what would prompt him to look there?”

  “I don’t believe it was coincidence that landed him there,” Peter, the casually dressed guy, said. “That room, amongst so many. It’s unbelievable it was by chance.”

  “Perhaps it was your jewels he was after,” Liz suggested, with a glance at my wedding rings. If she figured there was more where that came from, she was correct.

  “That still wouldn’t explain how he knew which suite was ours,” I pointed out.

  “Is there a written guest directory?” Miles asked.

  “There’s the one assignin’ rooms in the opposite wing,” Rae answered.

  “They’re ever so nice,” Emma commented.

  “Those as are finished,” Rae replied. “Not all of them are. Lady Carlisle was terrible upset at havin’ to trade, last minute. She doesn’t care for surprises, at any time.”

  It looked to me as though the housemaids felt sympathetic toward their employer, rather than mocking. That said a lot about them, but it also reminded me there was more to the woman than what we witnessed thus far.

  “The directory’s been updated,” Edward got back to Miles’ question. “It replaced the original, this morning.”

  Meaning the intruder didn’t use it to find us, which didn’t surprise me.

  “Were there any other guests here yesterday, besides ourselves?” I asked.

  “Monsieur Delacroix, and the Countess, they were the only others,” Irma answered.

  “Arrived unexpected on Tuesday morning, they did,” Sarah piped up.

  “It did make for a rush, on our part,” said Irma. “What with the room changes, and all.”

  “Imagine if we learnt of the need for it, just today,” said Emma. The endeavor left her looking traumatized.

  I was really wondering what sort of renovation would shut down the whole wing if not completed, yet go unnoticed by those preparing the rooms for guests.

  “What did, or does, this renovation entail?” Miles asked.

  “Ensuite facilities is bein’ added to the rooms without,” Jack answered. “It’s a project been goin’ on for a long while, now.”

  “A couple years or more,” Peter added.

  “That seems like an awfully long time,” I said in surprise. The gym at the estate, which included a basketball court, took less than a month. Maybe it would be different if plumbing was involved, although… our changes to the Lodge, which included a sink behind the counter of the tearoom, and showers in the fitness center, took no longer than that.

  But… I had limited patience, and Miles had almost unlimited resources. That might have something to do with it.

  Footsteps echoed briskly along the corridor, and a young guy in a khaki jumpsuit entered the room. His eyes were bright as he glanced around the table, on his way to make his meal selections. He looked puzzled upon seeing Miles and me, since of course he had no idea who we were, but he didn’t let that trouble him for long.

  “I can’t stay, I’m afraid,” Jumpsuit Guy said cheerfully. “I best be getting’ back straightaway.”

  “Gettin’ back to what?” Peter obliged by asking.

  “The search for the body that’s missin’, o’ course,” Jumpsuit Guy announced.

  Solemn Guy Edward, frowned.

  “The body’s missin’? However did they manage it? I watched ‘em load the poor fellow, myself.”

  Now it was Jumpsuit Guy’s turn to frown.

  “However did they manage that, or you to see it, as I’ve only just come from huntin’ the grounds, with the rest?”

  “Huntin’ the grounds, is it? Try huntin’ inside the van, you’ll have better luck,” Edward half-laughed, and everyone looked confused, and a little uncertain as to Jumpsuit Guy’s sanity. Except us.

  “It’s safe to conclude you’re both referring to two separate incidents,” Miles enlightened them.

  Jumpsuit Guy looked at Edward.

  “What incident are you referrin’ to?”

  “The man the Bannermans found dead in the garden this mornin’,” Edward replied. “What incident is it you’re referrin’ to?”

  “The blood coverin’ every inch o’ Finn’s greenhouse,” Jumpsuit Guy said rather dramatically, and the rest looked back at him in horror.

  Irma shot Edward a look.

  “Perhaps it’s where your man was killed!” she exclaimed, but I shook my head.

  “He showed no signs of injury consistent with what was discovered in the greenhouse,” I replied.

  We should know, since we examined the scene. And not to burst Jumpsuit Guy’s bubble, but… what he said, wasn’t the truth.

  Miles nodded in affirmation.

  “From the windows of our room this morning, it appeared as though several of the large panels of glass that comprise the nearest greenhouse, had been shattered. It was on our way there, that we stumbled upon the body that Edward mentioned. As the authorities wrapped up their examination of the area, we continued on to the greenhouse, and discovered the scene of what was certainly an assault, and possibly a homicide.”

  “What on earth is the world comin’ to?” Liz said in horror.

  “The earth, you say? What of the manor!” Sarah exclaimed.

  “The Isle of Camden itself’s always been such a safe place,” Irma fretted. “It’s often I’ve been thankful for it, an now—an intruder, assault, an murder—perhaps more than one! All in the self-same night!”

  “An all at the manor!” Emma declared shrilly.

  “Is it connected, d’you suppose?” Rae puzzled in concern.

  “It’s too much a coincidence, not to be!” Peter managed to squeeze in.

  “Barring any recent developments,” I swiftly interjected, “the only one with the answer to that right now, is the person or persons involved.”

  “The authorities are determined to change that,” Miles added calmingly. “They’re not without clues to follow, and evidence to analyze. The truth will come out.”

  Miles squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. We both knew it was true. We would likely be instrumental in finding that truth, because of our combined abilities, but they didn’t need to know that part!

  Tim glanced at the clock, then quickly gathered up his dishes and cleared his place.

  “We best be gettin’ back to work, an freein’ up some of the others,” he said, and Edward and Fred both followed suit.

  “I best be getting back to the hunt for the body,” Jumpsuit Guy replied. He didn’t look too crushed at having the wind taken out of his exaggeration. Jack and Peter scrambled to their feet, and joined him.

  “Doubtless, you can use the help,” Jack reasoned.

  “It’d be foolish to take on all six-hundred acres by yourself,” Peter rationalized.

  “That’s right, it’s just me an the entire rest of those as works the gardens,” Jumpsuit Guy said good-naturedly. “Come along, then.”

  The guys took turns placing their plates, bowls, and other dishes into the plastic tubs near the door to the kitchen, then made their departure down the corridor through which we arrived. As Sarah and Irma prepared to follow suit, Marge and another woman about her age, entered through the opposite doorway. The dresses of both were almost completely covered by the large white aprons they wore, and much of their hair confined to the white caps on their heads. The loaded food carts they rolled along were further evidence their jobs were kitchen related.

  “An of that, you can be certain,” Marge cautioned the other woman sagely, as she gave her coworkers a friendly glance, on her way to replenish the sandwich counter. Her gaze passed over us briefly, then abruptly backtracked, and locked on.

  “Well, as I live an breath!” Marge declared as she left her cart and bustled in our direction. “It’s
right glad I am to see you, an no mistake!”

  “It’s good to see you too,” l said, as I returned her hug. “How are you?”

  “How am I?” Marge said in surprise. “It’s me, should be askin’ you! Assaulted, in your own suite, an your husband in the next room! What a fright it must’ve been, and your young sister, hearing the whole of it. It’s a wonder she didn’t climb right through the line an deal with the man herself, if she’s anything like my own. Escaping before your husband had hold of him, is more than the man deserved. It’s likely he knows it, to cut out the window and into the rose bushes. He was right tore up, so I hear, and not likely to risk a return, though I dare say every one of us wishes he would. He’d be easy enough to spot, an would straightaway find himself on the receiving end of more than a trellis full of thorns. To imagine, assaulting a young woman, here at the manor! On the Isle of Camden, at that! What can the world be coming to?”

  “What, indeed,” Marge’s companion said darkly, as she wheeled her cart next to the dessert counter, and left it there. “That’s not all that happened durin’ the night, so I hear.”

  “It was a busy one for someone, at that,” Marge declared. She began replenishing the sandwich counter with the contents of her own cart, as her companion wheeled the tubs of dirty dishes back to the kitchen. “And a busy morning, for yourselves! One body found, and another missing. The gardener, too, though the missing body and his own might be the same, so I hear. The poor man, rest his soul, whichever state it’s in. Though I dare say he’s doomed either way, as it’d be the death of him seeing his life’s work destroyed, or stolen, as the case may be. It’s all he cared about, from what I hear, and a terrible, senseless thing it was. The manor had more than its fair share of that, last night.”

  “Does Finn have family or friends, that you know of?” Miles asked, and I was glad he spoke in present tense, rather than past. Maybe it had no bearing on the as of yet unknown truth—it didn’t—but I felt encouraged, anyway.

  “Family, now…” Marge considered. “If the man had any to speak of, I’ve yet to hear of it. He kept them right close if he did, or far, far away, is more like. As for friends, the two of you are the nearest thing to it, from all I hear. He must’ve taken a right shine to be inviting you into his inner sanctum as it were. That there’s marvel enough, even having met the two of you myself, and thinking right highly of you. I was near bowled over in spite of it, at hearing he’d let go any of the seeds as he’s worked so hard to develop, and kept tight hold of. You might be thinking the roses are deadheaded so swift like, for appearance’s sake, but that’s an incidental benefit. Preventing the growth of seeds, and others from wandering off with them, that’s the purpose behind it. He was right determined to keep his creations close, not that they’d any chance of growing elsewhere. You’ll not be finding another spot so temperate outside the manor, unless you’re to look outside the Isle entirely, or someone out is to look in, more like. Not that they’d get anything but chased off, for their troubles. Having only met the man, you may wonder at my saying so, but that’s the very thing; you, he met, rather than avoided, or run off. The same can’t be said for anyone else, so far as can be recalled. The Carlisles were none too sure of a civil reception, themselves. Only just yesterday, the lady of the manor suffered the consequences of daring to risk a visit. He left no doubt in the minds of her, or her guest, what he thought of that. It’s not likely either of them will try again, nor would they be wanting to, given the greenhouse’s current state.”

  “Who was with Lady Carlisle yesterday, when Finn confronted them?” I asked.

  “He moved right quick, from what I’ve been told, though I’ve no idea who the man was,” Marge reported, as she began replenishing the dessert counter. “If anyone as works here does, I’ve yet to hear of it. It’s a mystery, as are a good many other things, of late. Why they were there at all, is one. What Sir Edmund is thinking, is another. The Countess did visit often enough, but I dare say none saw this coming, least of all Ashley Fairgrave, poor soul! If you ask me, it was one thing when she knew her place, and quite another when her ladyship discovered there was more between her and Sir Edmund than work. I did hope for better than to have her heart broke so cruel, and the pieces ground in as it were, though I can’t say as it’s completely unexpected her ladyship would put an end to it, once she knew. To Sir Edmund’s credit, though I’m hard pressed to give any at the moment, he did insist on Miss Fairgrave’s rightful position, working that is, and she’s no longer on drudgery detail. That’s after slaving away most of the night to finish the work meant to put her in her place, from what I hear. It’ll be the manor’s loss when she goes, that’s certain, and who can blame her for leaving.”

  “Ashley’s leaving?” I asked in alarm. I would too if I was her, but we really needed to talk, first! She needed built up, in the right way, by the right Source.

  “Not just yet, as I know,” Marge clarified. “She’d not skip out without notice, no matter how shamefully she was treated. A shame is what it is, and if her ladyship doesn’t see it, then mark my words, the day will come. I’ve every sympathy for the Countess, poor child, motherless as she is. But then so is Miss Fairgrave, and still knows how to dress and carry on a conversation. It was her grandmum finished her raising, not a male second-cousin more concerned in turning a profit, than with the heads his niece was turning, or stomachs is more like, poor thing, so there’s the difference I suppose. If you ask me, he’s right glad to get a foot in the door, it makes no difference it’s not his own, so long as it’s hers. She’ll not be arguing over it, whatever he suggests, though passing any of it along is expecting a bit much of her, I’m afraid. I do wonder if she knows she’s engaged, though the ring she came back with after her shopping trip with Sir Edmund, should be enough to tip off most young women. If Miss Fairgrave’s hopes weren’t dashed already, they were after seeing it. She’ll stay ‘til the ball, but not long after. It’s the manor’s loss, and Sir Edmund’s and Lady Carlisles’, if only they’d sense to notice. No good that comes of adding another title to the Carlisle name will outweigh the cost to either one. It isn’t much comfort to Miss Fairgrave, I’m afraid, but I do find some satisfaction in it, myself.”

  Marge scowled a bit, as she wiped down the table in record time. I felt like joining her. In scowling, anyway. She needed no help when it came to cleanup. Miles and I gathered our dinner dishes anyway, and stowed them in the empty bins that took the place of those wheeled away. It was just as well we were through eating, because the subject matter was enough to make me lose my appetite.

  “The second round will be here before you know it, but there’s no need to hurry off,” Marge admonished. “Goodness knows you must be more than half starved, no more than you’ve been fed since your arrival. Sir Edmund was right put out about it, and no mistake, not that the morning’s events haven’t got in the way of meals again, in spite of it. He was none too pleased with the Countess’ and her cousin’s unexpected arrival, for the matter of that, despite their sudden engagement. He and her ladyship expected to have you to themselves for a few days, to their credit. Not that the best laid plans have never been set awry before, and no doubt they’re grateful it wasn’t yourselves put up in the east wing, in a room with mold lying in wait. Such a pity, it’ll be no easy task to set that to rights. I imagine the man in charge is feeling the pinch, and quaking in his boots, even if he does have his company insured. Lady Carlisle will have the last dime out of him, one way or another, and he’d just as well find another profession, no more likely than he’ll be to find work in the same line. Whoever the man is, I feel a bit sorry for him, not that he hasn’t brought it on himself, and caused a good deal of inconvenience, and just in time for the charity ball, no less. It’s a wonder her ladyship had time to spare in so completely crushing Sir Edmund’s aspirations toward Miss Fairgrave, what with all that, and more’s the pity.”

  “Where is Ashley?” I asked. Marge seemed to know just about everything else. />
  “She’s most likely seeing to the manor’s guests, either that, or in her office on the ground floor. That’d be in the west wing,” Marge answered.

  “Is it unusual that Monsieur Delacroix and Countess Grieve would arrive earlier than expected?” Miles asked.

  “So far as I know, though she and Sir Edmund must be on right companionable terms to be engaged, and so sudden like. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if her ladyship offered to toss Miss Fairgrave to the street if Sir Edmund persisted in seeing her, though I’ve no doubt she’d prefer it to have him turn to the Countess, and to hear of it without a bit of warning over dinner, if you can believe it, which of course you must, having been there.”

  “It’s awful,” I said, because it was the truth.

  “That it is,” Marge sighed in resignation, as she turned her empty cart in the direction of the kitchen. “It was wonderful seeing the two of you again. Stay as long as you like, and do drop by anytime you’re a mind, or in need of a meal. I best be getting back to the kitchen now, before the cook decides I’ve up and gone.”

  Marge returned to the kitchen, and we headed back the way we came. A wave of hungry employees met us as we reached the stairwell, and more filed past, as we climbed. We bypassed the ground floor, and as we continued on to the second—or first, depending on what part of the world one is from—the sound of talk and the occasional laughter faded, and we found the stairs all to ourselves.

  “Would you care to continue?” Miles asked quietly. “Or, would you prefer the privacy of our own room, to go over what we learned?”

  “I suggest we merge the two, and continue to our room,” I countered. “Who knows what else we might come across, on our way there.”

  Miles half laughed.

  “Considering what we’ve come across today already, are you willing to chance it?”

  “It’s either that, call for a ride, or permanently relocate downstairs,” I replied. “Wander blindly down the hall is another option, although that wouldn’t prevent us from stumbling over something.”