by Sonia Parin
Speaking of which, Evie’s gaze slid over to the door. “I’m surprised Tom hasn’t made an appearance.”
“Perhaps he’s canvassing the village,” Phillipa suggested.
Evie set her fork down. Without her? “Did he mention something?”
“No, but he looks like a man of action. I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes matters into his own hands. Although, he seems to rather enjoy working with you.”
“Working? That’s rather an odd way of putting it.”
“How would you describe what you have been doing together?”
Evie arranged some scrambled eggs onto her fork. “We are collaborating on a puzzle but only because I have been dragged into it by groundless accusations. Otherwise, I can assure you, I would keep my nose right out of it.”
Edgar refilled her cup and she looked up in time to see a raised eyebrow.
“Edgar? Do you disagree?”
“I don’t believe it is my place to hold an opinion, my lady.”
“What nonsense. Out with it,” Evie encouraged.
Edgar straightened and gave her a most imperious look. “I suppose I believe you have a certain advantage over the detective. You are welcomed as a social equal in places where he will always be considered an outsider.”
Surprised by his response, Evie brightened. “I believe you are encouraging me, Edgar. Thank you.”
He inclined his head slightly and resumed his post by the buffet table.
“I only wish Tom had been here to listen to your fine testimonial.”
At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Evie turned. “Oh, I spoke too soon. Did you catch any of that, Tom?”
Adjusting his tie, he made his way to the buffet table and helped himself to breakfast.
“Yes, do join us for breakfast,” Evie teased when in actual fact she rather enjoyed seeing him make himself at home.
“Edgar does have a point,” Tom said. “You can move about with far more freedom than the detective. Yet, you seem to be restraining yourself.”
“Oh? What am I missing?”
“You haven’t made any efforts to speak with Dr. Browning’s maid and she seems to be a source of information.”
True. However, Mrs. Browning remained at the center of the original debacle and Evie did not feel inclined to grace her doorstep with her presence. “It would have to be a clandestine meeting.” She stared at the landscape beyond the window. “Oh, I’ve got it. We even have an enticing carrot. We can use Henrietta’s butler to lure the maid. We should organize that today. And while we’re in the village, we might drop in on Mrs. Baker’s Delights and try one of her other pies. We must support local businesses.”
The edge of Tom’s lip lifted.
“I believe Tom wishes to say I have just justified paying the local establishment another visit when, in reality, I wish to eat another one of their scrumptious pies.”
“Well?” Phillipa asked. “Did the Countess get it right?”
“I wouldn’t dare contradict my hostess,” Tom said. “I’m sure I would have formed the same opinion. However, I had been busy thinking how good these sausages look. Pity I shall have to leave room for the pies.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“It’s a fine day for a stroll and a good way to ensure we have enough room for the pies.” In reality, Evie had suggested walking to the village so Phillipa could come along with them. The roadster could only really accommodate two people and that meant leaving her out of their adventures and missing out on her valuable input.
“You must feel like a princess, coming down from her tower to mingle with her people,” Phillipa mused. “Do the local villagers bow and curtsey?”
“I don’t expect them to. The ones I come into contact with are quite polite. That’s enough for me.” Slipping her hands inside her coat pockets, her fingers collided with the envelope she had been transferring from pocket to pocket every day. Evie glanced over at Tom and decided to once again postpone discussing the contents of her telegram.
“I have been meaning to ask you if you could have a talk with my maid, Caro. She had trouble finding a new dress and I believe she is lacking confidence.”
Phillipa chuckled. “I’m not sure I’m the person to inspire her. Most people find this new fashion rather daring and outrageous.”
“I think you look smashing in your trousers.” The colorful ensemble included tangerine orange with white stripes trousers and a white jacket. “I don’t mean to be intrusive and just ignore me if I am, but how did you manage to make your way to England?” She had mentioned her parents owned a cattle ranch, so Evie assumed they had funded her trip.
Phillipa gave her a sheepish smile. “A tiny inheritance from a spinster aunt. I seem to have a few of those. I wonder if that bodes well for me? Spinsterhood seems to run in my family. Anyhow, I’m hoping to eventually make my own way through my writing but first I must gain some sort of life experience.”
“You’ve landed in the right place,” Tom murmured. “Have you considered writing mysteries? Or perhaps Lady Woodridge can engage your services to document her adventures.”
Evie nudged Phillipa. “He is poking fun at me.”
“I am not,” he assured her.
“You make me sound like a swashbuckling buccaneer and I am nothing of the sort.”
Arriving at the village green, they stopped to appreciate the blooms, spending a few moments of quiet reflection at the monument which had been erected to honor the fallen. The little village was alive with activity with the locals going about their business.
“The dower house is up ahead. We should find Henrietta attending to her morning correspondence. I’m sure she won’t mind our impromptu visit.”
“I shouldn’t think so,” Phillipa piped in. “Considering how she drops in on you all the time. Anyone would think she is keeping tabs on you.”
“She means well. Now, I need to remember her butler’s name.”
“I’ve heard her mention her chauffeur, Hobson. But I’m afraid I can’t help with the butler.” Phillipa laughed. “Although, I am keen to meet him. He seems to have quite a following.”
Evie thought about bees buzzing around a flower. That led her to think about the possibility of a third woman having an affair with Charlie Timms. A woman who then decided she didn’t wish to share him with anyone else. She had already considered the possibility but had found it too ludicrous to pursue. Something she now found odd. If two women had been prepared to risk everything and act on their fantasies then she couldn’t see any reason why there couldn’t be a third one.
She had a good mind to follow Mrs. Browning to see how she spent her days. Smiling to herself, Evie looked toward the village. Her smile wavered. “Is that the detective’s car?”
“Where?” Tom asked.
“At the end of the street. He’s looking away now but a second ago, I would swear he’d been keeping an eye out for someone.”
They hurried past the gated entrance and along the path decorated with large earthenware urns heavy with colorful springtime blooms. The garden paid homage to the season with bursts of color and decorative trees including maples and oranges with a few fruit still on the trees.
At the door, Tom pulled on the bell. When the butler answered the door, Tom introduced himself. “And you must be the butler.”
“Bradley.”
Evie sidled up to Tom. Oh, yes. She could see why the doctor’s maid had fallen for the butler. Tall with broad shoulders, he had an easy smile and eyes that sparkled with hidden amusement. Unlike most butlers she’d met, he couldn’t be older than thirty.
“Hello, Bradley. Is the dowager receiving visitors this morning?”
“I shall announce you, my lady.” He gestured for them to follow him.
Evie felt like a giddy debutante, awestruck by the sight of a good-looking man. Phillipa nudged her and giggled as she murmured, “Scrumptious.”
Trust Henrietta to hire a handsome butler.
“Eva
ngeline.” Henrietta set her fountain pen down and rose to her feet. “What a pleasant surprise. Bradley. Please bring some tea.”
Evie took a seat near Henrietta’s desk. “Oh, my goodness. You have an uninterrupted view of the village.”
“Oh, yes. Now that you mention it. I rarely notice these days. Although, I had to have the hedge trimmed as it had been growing out of control and blocking my view of the vicarage.”
And they couldn’t have that…
“Have you come to once again extend your generous invitation to return to Halton House?”
Evie could see she would have to beg. Instead of playing into the dowager’s hands, she chose to draw out the game. Shifting to the edge of her chair, Evie said, “Henrietta. We need your butler to lure the doctor’s maid here.”
“Your choice of words suggests this should be done by stealth.”
Evie gave a vigorous nod. “Yes, the less people who know about it, the better. Is there some way she can come in through the back? I noticed the detective out on the road and I wouldn’t want him to know what I’m up to.”
“I shall instruct Bradley to take the lane. It should give him some alone time with the maid. He’ll either appreciate it or curse me for it. But what is this all about?”
In all truth, Evie couldn’t remember. “Some tea first, please. The walk made me thirsty.” She glanced at Phillipa and tried to recall what they had been discussing at breakfast. “Oh, yes!” she exclaimed.
Henrietta looked at her as if she had just grown an extra head. “Are you quite right there, my dear?”
“We need to know where Mrs. Howard-Smith went after…” Evie frowned and tried to remember if she had told Henrietta about the affair with Charlie Timms.
“After?” Henrietta prompted.
“After her visit with Charlie Timms. He says she stopped by at five in the afternoon.”
“Stopped by, did she?” Henrietta shook her head. “I just had an image I know nanny would have heartily disapproved of.”
“If it helps any, they argued because Charlie Timms told her he wanted to end the affair.”
“And what does all this have to do with the doctor’s maid?”
“I have a theory. I think Mrs. Howard-Smith might have sought out a friend or someone to lend her an ear.”
“And you think that person might have been the doctor’s wife.”
“Yes.”
When Bradley brought in the tea, Henrietta took him aside and explained what they wanted. Resuming her seat, Henrietta nodded. “He pretends to be reserved but I suspect he harbors a secret identity which yearns for excitement. You might just have provided the key to unlock this. Although, I don’t know what will come of it. I only hope I don’t lose my butler over this. I shall hold you responsible if I do.”
Tom moved toward a window and peered out. Had the detective been waiting for them to appear? How would he have known they would be coming to the village? What if the detective wanted to keep an eye on Henrietta? Evie suggested Tom find a room upstairs where he might gain a better view of the street and report back on the detective’s moves.
Henrietta murmured, “This is becoming more intriguing by the minute.”
They had nearly finished their tea when the young maid walked into the drawing room, bobbed a curtsey and introduced herself as Pearl, all the while keeping her adoring eyes on the butler who appeared to be struggling to maintain his composure.
“You won’t get the doctor or his wife into any sort of trouble,” Henrietta assured Pearl. “We only wish to know if Mrs. Howard-Smith visited on the night she died.”
Pearl gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth. “Visited? As a ghost?”
Henrietta shook her head in disbelief. “No. No. Before she died.”
Relieved, the maid nodded. “Yes. She did.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I don’t quite understand,” Henrietta exclaimed. “Have you made progress or not?”
Pearl, the doctor’s maid, had confirmed Evie’s suspicions. Mrs. Howard-Smith had visited Mrs. Browning.
But they had then left together.
Where had they gone?
“We do know more than we did a while ago.”
“I would be incredibly disappointed if you didn’t, Evangeline. As the Countess of Woodridge, you need to set a fine example. People are watching and some are even waiting for you to flounder.”
Really? Evie wanted to remain focused otherwise, she would have asked for more details. If someone wished to see her putting a foot wrong, what did that say about the person and their feelings about her?
Sara came in. Surprised to see them all, she stopped at the door. “If I had known we had visitors, I would have come in. It’s such a lovely day and I’ve been reading the most interesting book… What did I miss?”
“Henrietta will fill you in. I’m afraid we must be going now. We’ll see you both at dinner tonight?”
“Oh,” Henrietta exchanged a glance with Sara. “That sounds so uncertain.”
“Henrietta. Sara. Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?”
The dowagers both nodded. “Oh, how marvelous. Yes, thank you.”
They stepped out into the hallway and headed toward the back of the house. Half way along, Evie heard Sara wonder why they were headed out that way.
“She might be right,” Phillipa murmured. “Don’t you think we’ll draw more attention to ourselves? The detective must be waiting for us to emerge from the house. What is he going to think when we don’t make an appearance?”
“He will probably tire of waiting long before then. He’ll end up thinking we have been invited to stay on for luncheon and move on to spying on someone else.” Evie didn’t have any room in her head to think about that. “The chauffeur,” she whispered.
“What about the chauffeur?” Tom asked.
“You heard me?”
“I have a keen sense of hearing.”
They trekked across the back garden and headed toward the gate, walking in single file along the path. “We’ll have to go through the paddock.”
“Evie?” Tom prompted. “What about the chauffeur?”
“Oh, yes… There is one person who knows where Mrs. Howard-Smith went the night she died. Her chauffeur.” And Tom had already spoken with him at the funeral service. So, he shouldn’t have any trouble engaging him in conversation.
A minute later, Evie said, “Now that I think about it, this doesn’t make sense. Surely the detective talked to him. In which case, he would know exactly how or rather where Mrs. Howard-Smith spent her evening.” Evie slowed down. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Tom striding a couple of steps behind, his hands in his pockets, whistling a light tune under his breath as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Instead of opening the gate, she waved her hands and urged Tom and Phillipa to turn around. “We must go back out the way we came in.”
When Tom widened his eyes in surprise, Phillipa said, “It is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind and yours is not to reason why.”
Entering the manor house by the back door, they walked along the hallway and as they reached the front of the house, they heard Henrietta and Sara having a quiet conversation.
“Is there a reason why we had to go through the house again?” Tom asked. “We could have gone around…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“My apologies,” Evie offered. “I’m fixated on the task.” They encountered the butler who inclined his head and, without asking questions, led the way to the front door.
“Thank you, Bradley.” Turning to Tom, she said, “He had no problem with us going through the house.” She thought she heard Tom murmur something about aristocrats and eccentricity.
Once outside, Tom asked, “Are we to follow your lead or are you going to fill us in on your plan?”
“There’s no plan,” Evie admitted. “Not really. I just think it’s about time I come
clean and share some information with the detective.”
They found him still standing by his car. Seeing them, he brushed his mouth with a serviette. That’s when Evie realized he’d been eating something.
“Hello, detective. Fancy meeting you here. I see you’re eating al fresco.” Taking a look at what he held, she exclaimed, “Oh, a pie. Is it one from Mrs. Baker’s Delights?”
“It most certainly is. Chicken and quite tasty too.”
The detective’s friendly tone caught Evie off guard. Had he decided to soften his approach to honey sweetness in order to win Evie’s co-operation? It could certainly work both ways. “Tom and I highly recommend the game pie. In fact, we were on our way over to get some. Would you care to join us?”
“Yes, thank you. I only hope I can keep this from my wife. I would get an earful if she finds out I have had more than my fair share.”
Convinced the detective had changed tactics and now wanted a friendlier approach, Evie set her mind to getting a fair exchange of information.
At Mrs. Baker’s Delights, the waitress, Florence, showed them through to a table and handed them a menu each.
As Evie studied the list, she smacked her lips. “I’m really trying to stick to my purpose and select something different, but my taste buds are clamoring for another game pie.”
“I’ve heard so much about it,” Phillipa said, “I’m not even bothering to look at the menu.”
“How is your investigation progressing, detective?”
“Not as smoothly as I would wish. I’m beginning to think everyone is intent on safeguarding a secret almost as if they have far too much to lose.”
Florence approached them and took their orders.
“I suppose Mrs. Howard-Smith’s chauffeur couldn’t provide much information.”
The detective looked up and met her gaze. Evie had been brought up to appreciate and practice the art of conversation, engaging people with light but witty dialogue. She managed well enough, but she knew she didn’t have what it took to be truly invasive.
Personally, she had never enjoyed pushing for more than a person had been willing to reveal. Of course, that never stopped other people from putting her in the line of fire and wearing her out with incessant questions about her life as if a single secret about her could empower them with some sort of ownership over her.