The Killing at Kaldaire House

by Kate Parker

  “You don’t mind? Although I doubt I could find anything in a minute.” I put some innocent eagerness in my voice. I’d heard it frequently in my shop from debutantes attempting to get another hat out of the tight purse strings of an aunt or guardian, and I enjoyed mimicking my customers.

  He stepped back and made a sweeping gesture toward the cabinet.

  I stepped forward and ran my hand over surfaces, feeling for a spot that was worn from being touched many times. Nothing. I spread out the area I touched and felt for joints that were slightly off as well as worn. The cabinet felt like what it was: a magnificently crafted piece of furniture.

  I was aware of the prince moving and Lady Kaldaire putting out a hand to stop him, but, open or closed, my eyes weren’t seeing. I’d shut off my sight and worked strictly by touch. I began to feel the grain of the wood under centuries of polish.

  That eventually led me to a tiny nick at the bottom of a drawer. I pushed and slid my fingers over the spot. My eyes sprang wide as a piece of wood dropped open into my hand. “Oh, dear. Have I broken it?”

  “No. See? There’s a small hiding place under this drawer,” the prince said as he studied me.

  Uncomfortable under his gaze, I bent over and peered into the gap. It was empty. And it was too small to fit more than a couple of short notes.

  I straightened up and gave Lady Kaldaire a sigh. “It’s empty. None of Prince Maximilian’s secrets are hidden there.”

  My overacting was enough to gain a smile from both of them.

  “We’ve taken up too much of your time, Prince. I have to return to deal with my newly arrived sister-in-law, and I’m sure Emily wants to draw up some designs.” Lady Kaldaire slipped her gloves back on and I followed her example.

  “You’re certain I’ve not damaged the cabinet?” I asked.

  He put the piece back in place. I couldn’t see where it had come off. “Not at all. I’m amazed you could find the release. My congratulations.” He took my hand and stared into my eyes. “I must remember never to underestimate you.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not important enough to concern you. I thank you for allowing me to poke around in your cabinet. It was great fun.” I hoped he bought my act. I knew there were three hidden spots in the cabinet I’d not found, and I was willing to bet the letter Lady Kaldaire wanted me to find was in one of them.

  “Come along, Emily. I want you to walk me back to Kaldaire House.” She had her parasol and was headed toward the door.

  I grinned at the prince. “Thank you, Your Highness. It’s been a lovely afternoon, but I must be on my way.”

  He glanced at Lady Kaldaire’s back and then nodded, his expression showing he was reconsidering my abilities. “It’s been a pleasure to discover your talents.”

  His manservant silently appeared and held the door open for us. After our formal good-byes, I followed Lady Kaldaire out and walked down the pavement with her.

  After a minute, she said, “One down. Three to go. That was brilliant, Emily. You obviously know what you’re doing.”

  “My grandfather taught me to open puzzle boxes. They were always fun.” As was everything I did with my father’s family before my mother died. “You do realize he knows we’re after the letter.”

  “Nonsense. Why would you think that?”

  “I could see it in his eyes. He was taunting us with that cabinet.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to be cleverer than he is.”

  “How many people have you told about the letter?”

  “No one.” She looked aghast. “Discussing the legitimacy of our royal family would be social suicide.”

  “Then how many people have you asked about a letter missing from the safe the night your husband died?”

  “I may have—hinted that a very old letter disappeared at the time of Horace’s murder and asked if anyone had heard of someone having such a thing for sale.”

  Lady Kaldaire’s hints were more like orders. “And Prince Maximilian has heard about your questions and knows you are hunting for the letter.”

  “Nonsense. I doubt he listens to gossip.”

  “I’m sure he does if it concerns him.”

  She looked at me with that “the servants are getting above themselves” stare and shook her head. “Foolish Horace, keeping that letter. If he weren’t dead, I’d—”

  “You don’t have to rescue the letter, my lady.”

  She stopped and looked straight into my eyes. “Yes, I do. I need to finish the tasks Horace couldn’t finish. Please help me. I could tell the police about the night my husband died, but I won’t. I’d rather have you as my ally.”

  I could go to jail if I were caught breaking into the prince’s home. I could hang if I were convicted of murder.

  It was odd that Lady Kaldaire and I were willing to work together and that she would say “please” to me. We had nothing in common. Not social status nor age nor wealth. Perhaps it was because she was never sneaky. I always knew what she wanted of me. And she paid on time.

  Lady Kaldaire smiled complacently as she tapped her parasol on the pavement. “Shall we proceed? I’m looking forward to seeing your sketches, Emily.”

  As we walked along, I said, “Hypothetically speaking, who else would gain from your husband’s death besides someone who wanted that letter? Was there anything else in the safe?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But it’s possible that there was something else in there. Documents someone else would kill to get their hands on.”

  “I suppose.” Then Lady Kaldaire’s tone changed from thoughtful to certain. “Horace wasn’t clever enough to stumble over the evidence in two scandals.”

  “Would his brother kill to gain the title?”

  “Yes. And will he be surprised when he realizes he’s getting a valueless title.” The lady gave a tiny chuckle.

  “So we have to consider the new Lord Kaldaire for our villain. Who else?”

  “We have two choices. I doubt there is anyone else.”

  I glanced at her. “If the police are willing to suspect me simply because I was present, then I suspect there are one or two more people who should be looked into.”

  She walked in silence for a minute. “How would we find these other candidates?”

  I admitted I had no idea.

  * * *

  The next day, I was able to carry out my business without being interrupted by the police, my father’s family, or Lady Kaldaire until three in the afternoon. Then Lady Eddington showed up at my shop.

  “I’m looking for something in green to go with this fabric,” she said as she examined the hats on display, sighing in dismissal.

  She was always a hard-to-please customer. Today she seemed to be more difficult than ever, but I was always up for a challenge where millinery designs were concerned. And I’d learned never to deliver a hat into her hands until I was paid if I could possibly manage it. I examined the sample of lawn, a brilliant white with green stripes of different widths. “How will you be wearing this fabric?”

  “Afternoon garden parties.”

  “What sort of parasol will you be carrying? What sort of jewelry will you use to accent the gown?”

  She frowned at what she must consider my impertinence. “Why would you want to know that?”

  “To determine how best to dress up the hat. Would you prefer a white hat with green detail or a green hat with white detail?”

  “Oh, I think a white hat. Green ribbon and feathers to match this.” She pointed to the swatch. “And silver details. How are you coming with your designs for Lady Kaldaire’s new house?”

  “Slowly, I’m afraid.” I tried to drag her attention back to her order. “A high crown or a low one?”

  “Oh, somewhere in the middle. No, a high crown. Will she be taking a lot of furniture from Kaldaire House?”

  “Not a lot, I wouldn’t think. And the brim. Wide and flat, since you’ll wear it out of doors to garden parties?”

  “Yes
. Roberta seems terribly cut up by Horace’s death,” Lady Eddington said in an offhand manner. Then she looked me in the eye. “Murder. Really. Who do you think did it, Miss Gates?”

  “I couldn’t guess. None of my customers, surely.” I made a great show of writing down all of Lady Eddington’s directions in my order book. “High crown, wide, flat brim…”

  “I’ve heard Horace, the former Lord Kaldaire, was involved in scandal. Poor Roberta. How she’ll be able to hold her head up after this is anybody’s guess.” Her tone was calculating. I wondered if Lady Kaldaire had her true measure.

  My first reaction was to say something scathing, but that wouldn’t help me find out what scandal Lady Eddington was referring to. And wouldn’t help me keep customers, even customers who didn’t pay on time. “Lord Kaldaire involved in a scandal? I find that hard to credit.”

  “He was. It was over some shady business involved in theft or a swindle and a lady of low repute. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Roberta bumped him off herself, or whatever the slang is these days.”

  Two of us could play this game. “Lady Kaldaire would be sorry to learn she was sharing her husband’s affections. Any woman would. Who is this lady of questionable reputation? Not a customer of mine, I hope.”

  Lady Eddington looked at me through widened eyes and gave a sniff. “I’m not one to spread gossip. You’ll have to ask elsewhere.”

  No, I decided, Lady Eddington wasn’t one to provide gossip to a mere tradesman. However, she didn’t appear to be above trying to pry it out of me. I stared back and asked, “Let me get our card with your measurements. How much do you plan to spend on this hat?”

  * * *

  That evening, I was sketching interiors for Lady Kaldaire’s new house while Matthew read, Annie drew, and Noah snored. A crash that sounded like it came from the shop downstairs sent me to my feet while Noah awoke and sat up. He gave me a puzzled look.

  “I’d better go check,” I said and headed down our interior staircase to the shop.

  Movement frequently alerted Matthew, and he bounded down the steps with youthful enthusiasm before Noah joined me. At the bottom of the stairs, I flipped on the overhead light before I poked my head through the doorway.

  I saw immediately that the glass in the street door was broken. “Noah, we’ll need to—” I began before I saw the rock wrapped in paper with a string around it.

  I walked over to the rock as Noah looked past me and said, “We’ve got boards in the workshop that’ll cover the hole until morning.” He headed out to the alley and the workshop beyond.

  Unwrapping the rock, I read the note. In block capitals, it read, STAY AWAY FROM KALDAIRE HOUSE.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sounds of a scuffle came from the back of the shop. Running toward the thuds and groans, I found Noah collapsed on the dirty bricks of the alley and a dark figure running away. I knelt next to him and dabbed at the blood coming from a cut above his left eye with my handkerchief. “Are you all right?”

  “He jumped me as I came out the door.” With Matthew’s help, Noah rose and propped himself up on the outside wall.

  “Can you make it upstairs? Matthew and I will cover the broken glass.” I shoved the note and the string in my pocket. Those words would only confirm Noah’s worries concerning Lady Kaldaire.

  He shook off our hands. “I’m not such an old man I can’t take a few blows. I don’t think he meant to hurt me as much as scare me.”

  “Well, he scared me. Go sit down inside. Matthew and I will get the boards.” I signaled Matthew and we unlocked the workshop and collected a couple of boards, a hammer, and nails.

  When we locked up the workshop again and crossed the alley, I shoved the note and the string in an ashcan. I saw no reason to upset Noah. I felt bad enough that his blows were probably meant for me.

  * * *

  In the second post the next day, a summons appeared requesting my drawings at Kaldaire House at four that afternoon.

  After I’d seen Noah’s bruises that morning, Kaldaire House was the last place I wanted to go. However, I wanted to protect my livelihood more than I wanted to admit to being frightened.

  And I wanted to find the culprit and stop him so I could keep Noah safe from more attacks.

  Leaving the shop in Jane’s hands, I took the drawings over at the appointed time. I was surprised to be joined on the front step as I rang for the butler.

  I was especially surprised to glance at my fellow visitor and discover the man reminded me of a huge rat in an expensive suit with a brand-new collar. His cuff links were diamonds. Large, expensive diamonds. He looked me over as if I were posing for a dirty postcard. I shuddered and studied the doorbell, wishing someone would quickly answer.

  As the door opened, the new Lord Kaldaire hurried up behind Gregson in the doorway. My lord gave me a look of disdain and said, “Come with me,” to the man, taking his arm and hustling him toward the study.

  Gregson faced me. “This way, Miss Gates.”

  I followed the butler to the door of the parlor, where I found three other ladies with Lady Kaldaire. They all turned to look at me with expressions that said I should not be here.

  “I’m sorry, my lady. You have company. I’ll leave the sketches with you and call again another time.” I started to curtsy my way out of the room.

  “Nonsense, Emily, bring them here. I can’t wait to see them.” She glanced at her guests and said, “You don’t mind, do you? You might advise me on her designs for my new house.”

  To various murmurs, I came forward and handed Lady Kaldaire my sketchbook opened to the drawing of the morning room. She set down her teacup and studied it for about fifteen seconds. Then her mouth curled into a smile. “Excellent, Emily. This is exactly what I was looking for.”

  The other ladies craned their necks to see.

  “How soon until you move out, Roberta?” a thin blonde with a pinched face asked.

  “It’s going to take me awhile, Cecily. Servants to hire, furnishings to move or to buy, all the details of decorating. You’re so lucky this has all been done for you by Laurence’s mother.”

  I knew Lady Kaldaire didn’t care for the furnishings in this house. From her answer to Cecily, I guessed she didn’t care for Laurence’s wife, either.

  An older woman whose hair and skin had faded to gray said, “This must be a difficult time for you, Roberta. Don’t rush your decisions.”

  “I won’t, Marjorie. You taught me well. But didn’t you have the added burden of caring for a young relative at the time of the marquess’s passing?” Lady Kaldaire flipped over a page in my sketchbook and appeared to pay close attention to my drawing of the dining room.

  “Caroline. Yes. Such a silly girl. She and Amanda used to spend every waking hour giggling.”

  She must be Marjorie, Dowager Marchioness of Linchester, I decided. The woman Lady Kaldaire said she would speak to about the mysterious Amanda and the Taylors. I thought I made it clear to Lady Kaldaire that she should speak to the woman on her own. Apparently, she wasn’t as good at taking advice as she was at giving it.

  “Oh, how tiresome. Particularly when you’re grieving,” the fourth woman said. I shifted slightly to see her face. Oh, bother. It was Lady Eddington. “Amanda is usually more sensible.”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about grieving where Roberta is concerned,” Cecily said, her nose in the air.

  In the silence, you could have heard a pin hit the flowered carpet.

  “Is Amanda a relative, too?” Lady Kaldaire asked after a pause to let Cecily’s nasty faux pas register.

  “Oh, no,” Lady Linchester said. “She’s Viscountess Taylor now. They married just last year. Before that, she was the widow of Commander Dennison. Now, there’s a story.”

  I inwardly cheered. We knew who Amanda was. Viscount Taylor’s wife.

  In the silence that followed, Lady Kaldaire said, “Now, Marjorie, you can’t just leave us all hanging like that. Do tell.”


  “Amanda was a beautiful woman. Still is. And from the way she giggles, you’d think there isn’t a brain in her head. But there must be, mustn’t there, because of the way she can keep a secret and never let men realize she knows all their private business.”

  “Wasn’t Commander Dennison mixed up in that railroad stock scandal several years ago?” Cecily asked.

  “He was in it up to his neck,” Lady Eddington said with some scorn. “And he was the only man who came out ahead.”

  “I’d forgotten, Julia, that your family was also swindled by Dennison,” Roberta, Lady Kaldaire, said. “I am sorry.”

  “As was the Prince of Wales,” Lady Eddington said with a sniff, “although he could afford it.”

  “Dennison died two years later,” the new Lady Kaldaire said, “and supposedly no one knows what happened to the money. However, I’d bet the former Mrs. Dennison knows what happened to all that beautiful DMLR railway money.”

  “If she knows, she’s never told a soul. She’s very discreet.” Marjorie took a sip of her tea.

  “Perhaps that is how she became a viscountess. Many women, both debutantes and widows, aspired to that title for a year after the first viscountess died. And Lord Taylor is a healthy specimen.” Cecily raised her eyebrows and smirked.

  Now even I was staring at Cecily. Didn’t that woman ever know when to be discreet? Healthy specimen was a euphemism that brought a blush to the dowager marchioness’s cheeks. It would have to mine, too, if my upbringing had been more ordinary.

  “Amanda Hemmings, Lady Linchester’s niece Caroline Whitaker, and I were presented during the same season. Amanda loved Commander Dennison very much. Just as she now loves Viscount Taylor. She’s a sweet but misguided woman, as well as beautiful,” Lady Eddington said with heat.

  “Lord Taylor is like all of our husbands. Scrupulously honest, at least toward one of us. If he discovered she had the missing money from the DMLR Railroad Company, he’d make her return anything she had left to the other investors,” Lady Linchester said, presumably in an effort to support Julia Eddington and her friend. “To do otherwise would be like cheating at cards. It’s not done.”