Death at the Dance: An addictive historical cozy mystery (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery Book 2)

by Verity Bright

  ‘Oh, Eleanor, come on, we’re just girls together here. You’re dying to find out what he said about you and don’t pretend otherwise.’ She accepted her refilled cup with a coy smile. ‘Everyone likes a fun, handsome chap to be interested in them.’

  Eleanor’s face flushed. ‘Coco, honestly, I’ve only been here a few months and I’ve already got caught up in things I never dreamed of.’ She sighed. ‘I really haven’t got time for any other… complications.’

  ‘Whatever you say, but that’s exactly why I thought you could help. We all heard about how you solved that last murder.’ She shuddered. ‘I can’t understand how another human being could actually take a life. What a monster you’d have to be!’

  Eleanor peered at her elegant, slim guest, recalling one or two of the more unsavoury characters she’d encountered on her journeys who would have slit a stranger’s throat for a shilling without a moment’s regret.

  Coco was still speaking, ‘… and it was Lancelot who told us about it all.’

  The mention of his name pulled Eleanor out of her reverie. ‘Coco, how long have you known Lancelot?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Sometimes when he’s being annoying, it feels like forever.’ She giggled. ‘He does go on with his jokes and his wheezes. Actually, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I say, that makes me sound frightfully old, doesn’t it?’ Before Eleanor could politely disagree, she hurried on. ‘May I tell you something in total confidence?’

  ‘Of course.’ Eleanor had to fight to keep her eyes off Clifford as he stood just inside the door out to the terrace.

  ‘Well, I came here… to help Millie really.’

  Eleanor digested this piece of unexpected information. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, poor old stick, she’d kill me if she found out I’d told you. It’s embarrassing really, but she’s had a thing for Lancelot for simply yonks.’ Coco’s face fell. ‘Golly, I’m probably treading on your toes, how insensitive of me.’

  Eleanor pretended not to be jealous. ‘Not a bit, do carry on.’

  ‘Well, Millie has done everything to catch Lancelot’s eye but no matter what she does, he just seems to think of her as a friend, a chum. It’s awful. I’ve watched her break her heart over him for so long. Millie’s gutted about him being arrested, as we all are. I thought if you could help, it might help her particularly.’

  Eleanor set her cup down and sat back in her chair. ‘Coco, I appreciate your honesty and for taking me into your confidence regarding your sister’s feelings. I don’t believe Lancelot is guilty and I intend to make sure justice is done by him.’

  Coco sat back with a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, Eleanor, thank you so much, I can’t tell you how grateful I am. We’re supposed to be Lancelot’s oldest friends but the others are all just mooching about saying things like, “Would you believe it!” and “Who’d have thought!” We’re pretty useless at the whole sleuthing thing.’ She gave a weak smile. ‘Good at partying though. At least that’s what people say about us.’

  ‘What do they say?’

  ‘Oh, you must have heard. Someone like the colonel would surely have climbed aboard his hobby horse when you were within earshot. It’s so tired, all the stiffs…’ Coco clapped both her hands over her mouth. ‘Oh no, no, I didn’t mean “stiff” as in… no longer with us. Oh, I wish I was better with words.’ She shook her head. ‘The talk is that we’re brash, frivolous, over-privileged and well, rather vacuous. But we do get invited to all the top society events, so there must be something people like about us.’

  Lancelot’s words came back to Eleanor again: No one knows the identity of the jewel thief… but he does seem to pick parties we’re at.

  Perhaps he was onto something? Perhaps one of his gang was the jewel thief? The few leads she’d picked up from interviewing the staff and guests at Langham Manor seemed tenuous at best, so she was willing to grasp at any straw, and Clifford had said they should follow up on Lancelot’s gang.

  Her guest was staring at her, a puzzled look on her face. Eleanor shook her head.

  ‘Sorry, Coco, maybe I can help. And perhaps the best way would be to chat to Lancelot’s friends who were at the ball. You could arrange that, couldn’t you?’

  ‘Lovely idea!’ she said quickly but then hesitated. She turned her cup back and forth on its saucer. ‘You know we’re pretty select about who we invite to hang out with us. There’s been so many desperately awful hangers-on who want to be seen with the “In Set”.’ She shrugged and then leaned forward. ‘Hang on! I say, why don’t you come along tonight? We’re partying at the Blind Pig, it’s a fabulous club on the outskirts of Oxford. It really is the bee’s knees. I’ll tell the others I’ve invited you.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Wonderful. And thanks again for offering to help out.’

  ‘No problem, we’ll do everything we can.’

  ‘We?’ Coco glanced at Clifford, seemingly seeing him for the first time. ‘Gracious, I had forgotten that you worked with your butler on the other case. You really are quite the unconventional cat! See you tonight.’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ said Eleanor, kissing Coco goodbye.

  ‘Thank you, darling, you’re a lifesaver.’ She left with a wave.

  Once they were alone, Eleanor turned to Clifford. ‘Well, what do you think, Clifford? Millie Childs is in love with Lancelot. Who’d have thought?’

  ‘Who indeed?’ said Clifford. He looked a little amused.

  She hurried on. ‘You see, I remembered something Lancelot said in jail, that the bright young things gang were at most of the society events at which the jewel thief struck. So I thought if I met up with them again, I could do a bit of digging.’

  Clifford nodded. ‘A fine idea, my lady. However, their presence at those events is interesting, but not necessarily that incriminating. The social set at that level is quite limited here, compared to, say, London. The guest list for most high-end social gatherings tends to be distressingly similar.’

  Eleanor shook her head. ‘That may be, Clifford, but at the moment it’s the best we’ve got apart from following up on the few leads I ferreted out from my interviews earlier.’

  She glanced at Clifford when he didn’t reply.

  ‘What?’ She made a face at him. ‘Okay, maybe I also want to find out if Millie and Lancelot had a fling, and if it really is all over. Mind you, I don’t care much for the sound of this nightclub. What was it? The Bloated Pig? Sounds charming!’

  ‘The Blind Pig, my lady. It really is quite the place to be seen if you want to be one of the “in” crowd.’

  ‘Well, I definitely don’t, but I’d better pretend I do. Oh blast that Lancelot, the things he’s got me doing are ridiculous!’

  Thirteen

  ‘If you remember, my lady, Lord and Lady Fenwick-Langham are due in ten minutes to discuss our progress.’

  It was just after midday, and Eleanor had indeed remembered. In truth, she was glad of the distraction. She wiggled out from under Gladstone’s bulky form and brushed down her dress.

  Out in the bright sunshine she settled on a bench, while Gladstone, who to her surprise had woken up and followed her out, collapsed at her feet and promptly started snoring. ‘Great help you’re going to be, old chum,’ she said softly as she ran her hand over his warm round belly.

  She looked across the perfect lawn at the exquisitely decorated table Clifford and the ladies had prepared. Below individual ivory parasols, four white wicker wingback chairs sat precisely spaced, the cushion on each matching the silk embroidered tablecloth of delicate pink and crimson roses. Their cheerful ambience was echoed in the bright, fine-china tea service of exquisitely painted birds, each bearing a different flower in their beak.

  Mrs Butters appeared on the terrace and waved to Clifford.

  ‘Ah, I believe your guests are just arriving, my lady.’

  ‘Eleanor, my dear. It is so good to see you.’ The corners of Lady Langham’s deep-blue eyes crinkled as she held both of
Eleanor’s hands and smiled fondly at her. Two rebellious grey curls fluttered against her pale and drawn cheeks.

  Eleanor smiled back. ‘Likewise. I confess I’ve been worried about how you are holding up. And Harold too, of course.’ She turned to him and was relieved to see a glimmer in his deep-set grey eyes. His handlebar moustache quivered as he grinned.

  ‘Keeping up appearances, what. Frightfully proud of the memsahib though, backbone of steel my wife has.’

  Eleanor looped her arm through Lady Langham’s. ‘I think you’re both doing an incredible job. Please, come and sit down.’ She steered them to the table. Eleanor sat opposite Lady Langham and Lord Langham plopped down beside his wife. Gladstone sprawled by Eleanor’s feet with a contented huff.

  ‘Clifford, I believe we are ready for refreshments. And if you would join us, please.’

  ‘Very good.’ Clifford gave a discreet semaphore with three gloved fingers to Mrs Butters who was poised at the top of the terrace steps. He stood beside the last chair, hands clasped in front of him.

  Lord Langham flapped his napkin at him. ‘That’s not joining us, Clifford. You’re a major part of this bally detective enterprise.’

  Eleanor patted the arm of the chair. With a deep breath, Clifford allowed himself to perch rigidly on the edge of it.

  The tea and several silver stands of savoury pastries arrived with a smiling Mrs Butters and an anxiously jiggling Polly. Much to Eleanor’s delight, there was an impressive array of different options. At her feet, Gladstone’s nose began to twitch.

  Lord Langham rubbed his hands. ‘Spiffing show, my dear Eleanor. Advance compliments to Cook.’ Mrs Butters curtsied and gently pushing Polly in front of her, disappeared up the steps.

  Eleanor nodded to Clifford to pour the tea, which he dutifully did, adding a generous measure of brandy to Lord Langham’s. Lady Langham indicated that a soupçon should be added to hers as well.

  ‘No pressure, Eleanor my dear, you know how grateful we are that you are trying to help our son, but do you have any good news for us?’

  Knowing she couldn’t put off the inevitable, Eleanor nevertheless tried to ease into the conversation gently. ‘Possibly, but I must congratulate you, Augusta, on your ingenious idea of the croquet match.’

  Lord Langham smacked his lips after his glug of tea. ‘Marvellous creature, eh? So inventive and resourceful. Could have done with her out in the woolly wilds of the subcontinent on occasions.’

  Clifford coughed. ‘Lady Swift told me all about it. Most ingenious. She and I were just going over the facts of the case before you arrived. There were a great number of guests at the ball.’

  At the ‘b’ word, Gladstone jumped up, tail wagging. Eleanor shook her head until he flopped back onto the grass with a heavy sigh that made his jowls flutter.

  Clifford continued. ‘How to narrow them down? Well, we know that the notorious Oxfordshire jewel thief was present, so we’re likely looking for someone at your ball who was present at the other parties where the robberies took place.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Eleanor. ‘We’ve come up with a list of the other parties and the dates on which they were held. It doesn’t seem that the colonel was at many of the other parties where jewels were taken, so it is unlikely that he was intimately acquainted with the jewel thief.’

  ‘Therefore with your permission,’ said Clifford, ‘might I offer the suggestion that the colonel’s demise may have come as the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Regrettably, he disturbed the jewel thief and paid the terrible consequences.’

  ‘Of course,’ Lady Langham said quietly. ‘Maybe you’re right, although he ruffled some feathers over the years. He could certainly poke his nose in when it wasn’t wanted.’

  Eleanor noted her cool tone and hastened on. ‘An alternative possibility is this. Your head housemaid, Miss Glew, mentioned that the colonel had asked to move from his original rooms. Perhaps he left the ball for a moment to retrieve something and happened into the study on his way past?’

  Lady Langham pursed her lips. ‘He did rather take it upon himself to wander around as he wished. But he had no business being in the study at that time. He should have been downstairs, playing second host with Harold.’

  Lord Langham stroked his chin. ‘Something made him toddle off up there, though. Perhaps one of the staff knew why. They seem to have a better bally hold on who comes and goes in my house than I do.’

  ‘That, my dear Harold, is because unless it looks like a pheasant and you’re up to the top of your favourite hunting boots in mud, it rarely registers with you.’ Lady Langham’s stern tone was undermined by the affectionate smile she gave her husband. She turned to Eleanor. ‘Did any of the staff see the colonel just before the fateful moment?’

  Eleanor nodded. ‘Parsons, Sandford’s second in command. He said he saw the colonel going upstairs just after I landed on my face in the ballroom.’ Clifford raised a questioning eyebrow. She waved a hand. ‘Long story. Anyway, he mentioned seeing the colonel go on up muttering something about “there goes the cad!”’

  ‘The bounder!’ Lord Langham spluttered. ‘I’ll put the fellow in his place, what!’

  ‘Those weren’t Parsons’ words, Harold. Eleanor was quoting the colonel.’ Lady Langham sighed and patted his hand. ‘Do keep up, dear.’

  Lord Langham looked suitably contrite. ‘Right-oh, old thing. Sounds like something Pudders would say, though. But who was he referring to?’

  ‘I was rather hoping you might be able to help us there.’ Eleanor mentally crossed her fingers.

  ‘’Fraid not, my dear. Haven’t a bally clue,’ said Lord Langham. ‘Clue! I’m starting to sound like a real detective, what!’ he said, sounding delighted.

  ‘Ah well, never mind. Clifford and I shall return to the attack after lunch,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘All credit to you, my dear Eleanor.’ Lady Langham shivered. ‘Discussing murder on a full stomach would surely bring on my dyspepsia, I fear.’

  ‘Perhaps a strong stomach is another of my blessings.’

  ‘And a hearty, country appetite.’ Lord Langham laughed, pointing at the multitude of pastries Eleanor had been munching through.

  ‘Harold!’ his wife chided. ‘Sorry, my dear. I do hope Lancelot is more courteous than his reprobate of a father.’

  Eleanor smiled at them both. ‘Shall I give you the short version of what I learned at the croquet match?’

  Lord Langham held his hands up. ‘My dear girl, tell us the pertinent facts while we lay waste to more of these delicious pastry fellows. Have you tried this mushroom concoction, Augusta? Sublime little beast.’ Gladstone’s stare intently followed Lord Langham’s hand as he waved the pastry. ‘Carry on, old thing.’

  Eleanor took this as her cue. ‘The only unfortunate revelation was that the delightful Miss Wynne said she witnessed Lancelot having something of a tiff with the colonel in the garden. No one else saw, so hopefully that will not reach the ears of the police.’ She fiddled with her teaspoon. ‘Cora did also discreetly mention that perhaps Lancelot had been, erm…’

  ‘Lined up by Daphne to be her saviour?’ Lady Langham said. ‘It’s alright, my dear, we can be candid here amongst ourselves.’

  ‘Thank you, but I’m sure Cora wouldn’t do anything that might get Lancelot into trouble, even if she were miffed that he hadn’t ridden in on his white charger and swept her up.’

  Lady Langham shuddered. ‘He’d have been more likely to roar in on that wretched motorbike he insists on keeping.’

  Eleanor hoped they wouldn’t get on to the subject of the dowager countess and her motive for wanting revenge on Lancelot. The dowager countess, after all, was one of the Fenwick-Langhams’ oldest friends and the idea was preposterous anyway. Which didn’t mean that she and Clifford had ruled out the possibility, just that she had no idea how to broach it with Lady Langham.

  Clifford seemed to sense her embarrassment. He rose and refilled each of the teacups and offered the
pastries round again. ‘Perhaps we should move on to Viscount and Viscountess Littleton?’

  Eleanor smiled in relief. ‘Good idea, Clifford. I believe Viscountess Littleton said that her husband had been called away the morning after the poor colonel’s passing?’

  Clifford coughed discreetly. ‘It did strike me as most odd that Viscount Littleton would leave his wife in such a situation, whether the murderer had apparently been caught or not.’

  Eleanor turned to Lady Langham. ‘Have you known them long?’

  Lady Langham set her cup back on its saucer. ‘To answer your question, Eleanor dear, we’ve known Cuthbert for about six… no, seven years now. Obviously, his wife for less long. He came to advise Harold on some difficult legal aspect when we had a dreadfully tiresome matter hanging over us and he has somehow become part of our regular guest list ever since.’ Lady Langham looked thoughtful. ‘I confess he suffered at the colonel’s waspish tongue all too often.’

  ‘Over anything in particular?’ Eleanor asked.

  ‘It seemed to be a long-standing dispute that the colonel refused to drop. I believe it was regarding some legal advice Cuthbert gave which the colonel felt had disadvantaged him considerably. Isn’t that right, Harold?’

  ‘’Fraid so. Pudders was never one to let go of an old argument. Total terrier when he thought he had reason to be aggrieved. Dashedly vocal about it too, silly fool.’

  Eleanor noted the tinge of sadness in his voice and racked her brain for a new direction to steer the conversation in. She clicked her fingers. ‘One of the most important things we needed to do was account for everyone’s movements over the course of the evening, notably around the time that the… er, unpleasant event brought a finale to your wonderful ball. Your staff were very diligent in their duties and consequently were able to assure me of most people’s movements throughout.’

  ‘Sandford is a gem, keeps the staff in good order,’ Lord Langham agreed. ‘Like you, Clifford, a quiet force to be reckoned with.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. It is fortuitous that all of your guests were well known to you, although of course, it was a masked ball, I understand.’