by Sonia Parin
“For me?”
“Yes. I hope you enjoy the performance. I believe Basil Rathbone is playing a lead role.”
Edgar held the tickets as if he were cradling something precious. Bowing slightly, he resumed his post by the buffet table.
One problem solved, Evie thought. Hopefully, the tickets would soften the blow. She suspected Mr. Crawford would soon be announcing his retirement, leaving her with no butler at Halton House. She could either employ someone new or… she could talk Edgar into staying on in the country instead of heading back to town.
Setting the letters aside, she turned her attention to her breakfast. A moment later, Phillipa joined her.
“My motor car has been fixed.”
“Oh, does this mean you will leave us?” An odd sensation swirled around her throat. Yes, she would definitely miss Phillipa.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Needless to say, I will welcome you back at any time,” Evie said. “After the adventure we shared, I believe you have earned a special place in our lives.” Evie picked up her teacup only to set it down again. When had she started referring to herself in the plural?
Tom strode in and greeted them.
“Does the pub not offer breakfast?” Evie asked.
“I prefer your spread.”
Phillipa clapped her hands. “I just remembered. I contacted one of the people I will be meeting at the car rally. One of his friends is from your neck of the woods and he told me they had been celebrating. So, I’ve been meaning to congratulate you on your win. I hear the New York Yankees performed extremely well—”
Evie succumbed to a fit of coughing prompting Phillipa to jump to her feet and rush to pat her on the back.
“Oh, heavens. My tea must have gone down the wrong way. Thank you, Phillipa.”
“Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Tom set down his plate and sat opposite Evie. “Phillipa. I believe you can rest easy. Sit down and have your breakfast. The Countess will be fine. She is only concerned about you hurting my feelings.”
“Really? How?” Phillipa asked.
“I believe you were about to say the Yankees had trounced the Red Sox.”
“Oh, I see I’m late with the news. When did you hear about it?”
Tom dug inside his pocket and produced the telegram he had received. “News about it arrived several days ago. But I think Evie received the news first. Clearly, she is better connected.”
Evie gasped. “You knew.”
“If you both knew,” Phillipa said, “and neither one mentioned it…” Shaking her head, she finished by saying, “I am definitely missing something.”
Tom winked at her. “I’m a Red Sox fan and Evie here happens to be a Yankees fan.”
Phillipa turned to her. “Oh, then it’s you I should be congratulating.”
“I didn’t want to make a fuss…”
Tom laughed. “What made you change your mind? A while back you gave me the impression you would have a field day at my expense.”
Phillipa smiled. “I think you’re right. Evie wanted to spare your feelings.”
Tom held her gaze.
Evie felt a flush of heat settle on her cheeks. “Nonsense. I merely wanted to choose the right moment to tease you.”
Edgar cleared his throat and announced, “Lady Woodridge.”
Henrietta hurried into the dining room. “Oh, I see I’m in time for a second breakfast. We have such a busy day ahead of us.”
“We do?” Evie asked.
“The Hunt Ball, my dear. Time is of the essence. We only have a month or so to get everything right. And, before that, we have to attend Mrs. Hallesberry’s funeral.” Henrietta shook her head. “Since the killer has been caught, this one should be a breeze. I have saved the best until last. According to my butler who heard it from one of his many admirers…” Henrietta waved her hand. “I have lost track of which one… never mind.”
Evie smiled. “What did you hear?”
“Oh… One of your tenants is getting married. Charlie Timms has finally decided to settle down. I believe there will be many hearts broken. But all is well and we will get to toast someone’s health.”
Edgar poured the dowager some tea.
“Now, what have I missed?” Henrietta asked.
“Phillipa is about to bid us farewell.”
“I must say, your visit has been quite refreshing.” Henrietta looked at Tom. “I suppose you will soon be moving on.”
Oh dear…
The complication Evie had expected had finally reared its ugly head. How would Mr. Tom Winchester transform himself into her chauffeur now?
“Not for a while,” Evie said. “Tom is going to help me find a new chauffeur.” That would take care of the immediate future, but what on earth would they do after that? How would Tom justify staying around…?
“I hadn’t realized you were without a chauffeur,” Henrietta murmured.
“Yes, I lost him recently. He… went in search of greener pastures.”
“Greener than the ones you offered?” Henrietta sounded affronted.
Floundering for a response, Evie looked at Tom but he merely raised his eyebrow.
“Yes, since you put it that way. I shall have to choose my next chauffeur with greater care…”
Evie gazed out toward the gardens and wondered how she could justify keeping Tom around. When Henrietta drew her attention to the Hunt Ball, Evie decided to postpone making any decisions. In any case, this had been Tom’s doing so he should provide her with a solution.
“Are you listening, Evie?”
“Yes, of course,” Evie said and turned her full attention to the here and now leaving everything else for another day.
*****
I hope you have enjoyed reading Murder at the Tea Party.
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Author Notes
Facts and Historical references
In my effort to ensure the story remained historically correct, I spent many hours checking and double-checking word and phrase usage. Here are some examples:
Week-end: 1630s, from week + end. Originally a northern word (referring to the period from Saturday noon to Monday morning); it became general after 1878.
Getaway: 1852, "an escape," originally in fox hunting, from verbal phrase get away "escape". Of prisoners or criminals from 1893.
Pot-hole: 1826, originally a geological feature in glaciers and gravel beds. Applied to a hole in a road from 1909.
Like a bat out of hell: The Lions of the Lord: A Tale of the Old West By Harry Leon Wilson, Copyright 1903, published June, 1903, page 107 (google book full view):
Why, I tell you, young man, if I knew any places where the pinches was at, you'd see me comin' the other way like a bat out of hell.
Come clean: Moberly Evening Democrat, August 1904
Rain check: First recorded in 1880-1885
By hook or by crook: The phrase is very old, first recorded in 1380
Also…
Baseball
May 1, 1920: Babe Ruth's first Yankee home run is a 'colossal clout' against Red Sox. As the second month of the 1920 season opened, the New York Yankees routed the Boston Red Sox at the Polo Grounds, 6-0, behind Babe Ruth's first home run as a New Yorker.
Books by Sonia Parin (to Jan 2019. For any new releases please check the Author’s Amazon Page)
An Evie Parker Mystery
House Party Murder Rap
Murder at the Tea Party
A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery series
End of the Lane
Be Still My Heart
The Last Ride
The Last Stop
The Last Dance
A Deadline Cozy Mystery series
Sunny Side Up
Snuffed Out
All Tied Up
The Last Bite
Final
Cut
Sleeping With the Fishes
A Kink in the Road
The Merry Widow
Dying Trade
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery series
Witch Inheritance
Witch Indeed
Witch Cast
Witch Charm
Witch Trials
A Mackenzie Witch Collection: Witch Namaste, Good Witch Hunting & ‘Tis the Season to be Creepy
Witch in Exile
A Mackenzie Witch Collection 2: Jingle Purrs, Potion Heist and The Power of Two and a Half
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Short
Witch Namaste (Novella)
Good Witch Hunting (Novella)
‘Tis the Season to be Creepy (Short)
Jingle Purrs (Short)
Potion Heist (Short)
The Power of Two and a Half (Short)