‘But then the only suspect is Richard and you won’t allow that.’
‘Perhaps the police have come up with something else. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know half the people here.’
‘But what if they say it’s death by misadventure.’
‘Then I will accept that,’ said Bertram. ‘I cannot see any way we can unravel this tangle. It may indeed me that Mama did react to something she ate. It may seem unfeeling of me, but I want to live my life looking forward. Mama adored me in her own way and I know she would want me to carry on.’
‘But what about justice!’ I protested.
‘Euphemia, haven’t you realised by now there is very little justice in this world?’
‘That’s no reason to give up!’
He took my hand in his and stroked his index finger across my palm. ‘I admire your dedication and your integrity, but sometimes it is necessary to concede the fight in order to win the war.’
‘I don’t agree. I will make a point of speaking to Chief Inspector Brownly tomorrow and telling him all I know.’
‘That is your choice,’ said Bertram, ‘but be careful you do not get yourself into a situation you cannot get out of. Now, I am tired. I am retiring. I suggest you do the same. Perhaps the police will be able to explain things fully in the morning.’
He did look tired. There were shadows under his eyes and his shoulders slumped. Bertram was clearly still not fit and I saw no point in forcing an argument he was determined to deflect. I could have railed at him about his sense of justice, but I knew what it was like to lose a beloved parent and now Bertram had lost both his parents in a short space of time. Instead of thinking his morals were weak, I determined to think of him as one battered and bruised by recent misadventures. I felt sure the quick-blooded, impassioned man I had once known would be back on form when he had recovered. Perhaps even after a decent night’s sleep. So I wished him well and retired for an early night myself.
I told Merry the little I had learned. She suggested we tackle Suzette together the next day, but I told her I’d rather not bother. I reminded her that we were not the police and did not need to tackle everything. I said I could not see how it could possibly be relevant to what had occurred.
And in saying this I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. A mistake I will regret until my dying day.
Chapter Thirty-four
Secrets Will Out
I awoke to find the sunlight trying to creep through my heavy curtains. I sat up and immediately huddled back under the blankets. No one had lit the fire in my room yet. No one had drawn the curtains. I am able to draw my own curtains, but I draw the line at laying my own fire. I threw the covers back and rushed for my dressing gown. Once I had tied myself firmly into this I gave the bell a hearty tug. Then I took the topmost cover off the bed and wrapped myself up in a seat that was pointedly by the fire. No one came.
Sunlight flooded the room and pushed the temperature up slightly. I could no longer see my breath in front of my eyes. However, now I was beset with chills of another kind. My imagination, which has always been healthier than my mother would wish, began suggesting all kinds of terrors. I rang the bell again. Still nothing. By this point I had become convinced that some serial madman had run through the house murdering people in their sleep and for some unaccountable reason had overlooked me. Fitzroy seemed to like me. Perhaps he had chosen to let me live.
I folded back the blanket and stood up. This is arrant nonsense, I told myself. I may have seen more deaths than is proper for a young woman, and I may have inadvertently become caught up in a suspicious number of murder cases, but that is no reason to think that the world has descended into chaos. It is far more likely, I told myself, that the aging Robbins took the key to the servants’ block to bed within after having one too many tipples and has overslept or has misplaced the key.
But, said my rational mind which was meant to be working to calm me, if that was the case wouldn’t someone else have a key – like the housekeeper or the Countess. I began to mentally scold myself before I realised that this form of internal communication was surely a road to madness and the very best thing I could do was go out and see what was happening.
I opened my wardrobe. The dresses hung there, beautiful and complicated. I could possibly scramble into one, but I would have to leave parts undone. I could try and cover these with a shawl, but not knowing what I would find I wanted to keep my hands free.
This is why at 10 a.m. on the morning of Lady Stapleford’s funeral, I found myself creeping along the corridors in my night clothes. I went to Richenda’s room first. I scratched at the door in the way a lady might, but receiving no answer I gave it a hard knock. The door swung open beneath my hand.
If I hadn’t had the privilege of tidying her rooms at Stapleford Hall, I might have thought the room had been ransacked. She was the messiest woman I had ever met. Clothing and periodicals were strewn across the room. A large amount of powder lay split across the dressing table. I noted her bed had been slept in, so whatever had happened she had awoken or been awoken. I did not see any blood or obvious signs of a fight, so I thought there was no point searching the room further. All I would accomplish would be getting the smell of her clothing on me. Richenda had a terrible habit of not allowing anyone to clean her clothes as frequently as they should be. I had cause to remember this as she had once shut me in a wardrobe with her favourite frocks.
The only other room on my corridor was Lady Stapleford’s. I had no intention of trying that. Anyone in that room would be either up to no good or making an unearthly appearance, and without breakfast I was not up to facing either.
I returned to my room and swapped my slippers for stronger shoes. I brushed my hair quickly and pinned it back simply. I had no choice, but to attempt to get into the simplest gown. Fortunately Merry had found me one for the funeral that was both black and unfussy. In the mirror I saw someone who looked very like Euphemia the housekeeper rather than the Princess I was pretending to be. My reflection showed signs of worry and her hair had tendrils already curling loose from their moorings, but at least I was now fit to be seen in the public areas of the house – and in particular the quarter that houses both the bedrooms of Bertram and Fitzroy. I wanted to go to Rory, but I knew that nothing short of the collapse of the British Empire itself would explain a Princess entering the servants’ quarters.
I crept out of my room and long the corridor leading from the main staircase. From over the banisters I could see a number of policemen standing in the great hall below. Chief Inspector Brownly strode across the hallway as I was watching. He did not look up. His shoulders were set well back and he walked with confidence. From his carriage I surmised he felt he had solved the mystery, but it was more than satisfaction I saw in his movement. He moved very differently than the man who had been forced to be so deferential to the Earl.
You may think I am making too much of this, but in truth servants learn to tell a lot about those they serve by the attitudes by which they carry themselves. In a large gathering the upper classes are no different than a pack of dogs; they will always respect the leader of the pack. Brownly was no longer metaphorically showing his belly. He was very much the man in charge.
Could he have arrested Richenda? That would explain her absence, but I had seen her all too believable relief when she learned that Tipton had not been the culprit. I did not hold the illusion that the two of them loved each other, but I knew they had made a pact that would serve them both well. Tipton would gain money and Richenda status. Had they murdered Lady Stapleford together? But what would be the point?
I crossed the gallery into the area where the single men had been put. I moved as silently as I could for being seen here by the wrong person would shred mine, or rather the Princess’s reputation for ever. Who should I go to? Who did I most trust to be alone with? The answer came to mind at once: Bertram. I hurried along to his room, knocked briefly and went in.
There
was no one there. Unlike Richenda’s Bertram’s room was a model of neatness. But his bed too had been slept in. Being left with limited options I went and knocked on Fitzroy’s door. He opened it at once. Fitzroy wore a travelling coat. Behind him I could see a valise on the bed. Until this moment I hadn’t quite realised how tall he was. He looked down at me and frowned heavily. ‘There’s no use coming to me now,’ he said. ‘I told you yesterday to get out of here.’ Then he went back into the room and continued to pack. He had left the door open, so I followed him. I even took the dangerous step of closing it behind me.
‘You’re leaving?’
Fitzroy didn’t even both answering this. ‘Why now?’ I asked.
‘Brownly’s had a call. He’s happy to let me go.’ He pulled a draw from the chest and upended it. A cascade of socks fell haphazardly into the valise.
‘That’s no way to pack!’ I said. ‘You’ll ruin your shirts.’
To my surprise he gave a crack of laughter. ‘It’s the last thing on my mind,’ he said. ‘Though I will get the suits sent on. It would be a pity to have to outfit Milford again, as well as expensive.’
‘So that isn’t who you really are?’ I asked.
This won me a genuine smile, ‘My dear Euphemia, there are days when even I can barely remember who I am. I am sorry for the trouble that is going to come your way, but I need to remove myself from the situation as quickly as possible.’
‘Trouble?’ I asked. ‘I came to you – well, I tried a few other doors first,’ I said with the devastating honesty my father instilled into me, ‘but I have seen no one this morning. Not even the maid who should have lit my fire. I have no idea what is going on.’
‘Tipton’s killed himself,’ said Fitzroy as he did a cursory sweep of the room. He locked the valise and turned to face me. ‘You had no idea?’
‘None,’ I said. My voice shook on the single word. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I know he’s dead,’ said Fitzroy, ‘and I didn’t do it. Other than that I have no firm evidence in any direction.’
I moved over and sat down on a chair. ‘I can’t believe it. Tipton gone.’
‘Death has the reputation of being sudden,’ said Fitzroy. ‘One minute you’re here the next you’re not. The best any of us can hope for is we go quickly.’
He gave me a pat on the shoulder. ‘I hate to be lacking in chivalry, but I need to go and I don’t think it’s going to help your case if you’re found in my room.’
‘The police will be asking a lot of questions, won’t they?’
‘Yes.’
‘You think they will discover who I am, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
I pressed my fingers to my temples. ‘I need time to think.’
‘I’m sorry Euphemia. I’m out of here.’
An idea flashed through my brain. ‘Take me with you!’ I said.
Fitzroy’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why Euphemia,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you cared.’
Chapter Thirty-five
Exit of a Princess
‘I don’t,’ I said bluntly. ‘I don’t want you to take me with you literally. I want you to take the Princess.’
Fitzroy didn’t respond, but neither did he walk out the door. I took this an encouragement.
‘You said those in the know suspect that you and she were …’ I blushed.
‘Lovers,’ supplied Fitzroy.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that. Would it not be likely that if the police had cleared you to leave, you would help her out of this mess for old times’ sake?’
‘What do you think I might do?’ asked Fitzroy, who was by now looking slightly amused.
‘Take her away before the questioning began. She can hardly be a suspect. Get her to a train or a boat, so she can return home with no noise or fuss? In fact even suggest to the police that any mention of her here might cause a diplomatic incident?’
‘Possible,’ said Fitzroy. ‘But what in practice do you expect me to do?’
‘I’m not sure. I’m still working it out,’ I said.
‘Give me a plan now or I will have to leave.’
‘Right. This might work. Take me with you. People can see me leave. I’ll wear a hat with a veil and a long coat.’
‘You’d need to. You’re a mess,’ said Fitzroy.
‘Thank you, ‘I said. ‘You can take me in whatever vehicle you were leaving in anyway at some nearby inn. I’ll change back into my housekeeper clothes. Then I’ll make my way back here later when there has been time for news to reach me. Richenda has no living relatives. I can say I have come to act as companion for her.’
‘Hmm, that could work. I’d have to take you further afield than you think and you’d have to arrive as a housekeeper. That means either you change while we are on the move or in a bush.’
‘You could deliver the Princess to a railway station,’ I said hopefully. ‘I could change in the Ladies’ powder room.’
‘Alright,’ said Fitzroy. ‘We’ll sort out the final details on route. You will owe me for this. Don’t imagine for one moment I won’t reclaim this favour.’ He picked up his valise. ‘I’ll come back with you to your room so you can get your coat and hat.’
‘I can manage,’ I said.
‘I have to ensure no one sees you.’
‘What if they do?’ I asked.
‘Then I’ll have to kill them.’
‘This is no time to joke,’ I said angrily. ‘A man is dead by his own hand.’
‘What makes you think I am joking?’ said Fitzroy.
I followed him out of the room, well aware I was completely out of my depth. Not that I would let him know this, of course.
What we did, and how I changed from Princess to housekeeper, are not for the pages of this book. I will say Fitzroy was as ruthless efficient as ever and at no time spared my blushes, but he did help me. He even showed me how to darken my hair. Also, I am thankful to say, he did not kill anyone in the process.
Late the next afternoon I arrived at the servants’ entrance to the Court. I was neatly dressed, devoid of make-up and the very kind of servant no one would look at twice. Fitzroy had suggested I did my best to stay within the confines of the servants’ quarters when I was not attending Richenda and I intended to adhere to his advice. He made me give my word I would not reveal how and with what means we had left. I knew this would anger Rory, but I could see no other way than to accept his rules.
To my great surprise Merry opened the door. She threw her arms around me. ‘Thank goodness you’re back,’ she said half strangling me. ‘Rory is being impossible. He’s convinced you eloped with Lord Milford.’ Then she let go and stood with her hands on her hips. ‘I told him not to be so blithering stupid.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You didn’t, did you?’
‘No, of course not,’ I said incensed. ‘I have no intention of eloping with any one.’
‘Well, come on in then and prepare yourself for a frosty reception.’
I followed Merry into the servants’ quarters. Before I would have thought them clean and well-lit now, after my time above stairs, they seemed mean and small. The quarters must have been specially built for servants. The ceilings were low and the walls either painted in a dull green or tiled in white. The floors were bare and cold. The lack of colour struck me most.
Merry bustled along a passage way and took me into what I assumed was the butler’s pantry. ‘Stay ’ere,’ she said. ‘I’ll fetch Rory.’
‘Won’t Robbins mind me waiting here?’ I asked.
Merry stopped. ‘’Course, you don’t know. It was ’im that found Mr Tipton swinging in the music room. Had an ’eart attack.’
‘Tipton?’
‘No silly. He was already dead. Robbins.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ I said. ‘Did he die.’
‘No, but he’s right poorly. Rory has been acting a butler.’
‘Rory! But surely they had other staff here ready to step into Robbins’s shoes?’
‘Gosh,’ I said, thinking that it might be difficult to marry if we were working in different houses.
‘Yeah, I know,’ said Merry. ‘Some people land on their feet. Won’t be a mo.’
I sat down in a chair that must once have graced the upper rooms, but one too many wine stains and a spring that stuck you in an entirely improper place must have relegated it to the servants’ quarters. All about me I could hear people moving about their duties. The kitchen must be down here too, but we hadn’t passed it on our way in. I began to understand that the servants’ quarters here were vast. If Rory took a position here it would be the height of his career.
I gave myself a shake. Here I was thinking only of my romantic life when there had been two deaths in this house and no good answers given. Hopefully, having been on the spot Rory would have some idea of what was occurring.
Almost as if my thoughts had summoned him, Rory appeared in the doorway. He was impressive in the new butler uniform of the Court. He stood in the doorway, unsmiling.
‘The uniform suits you,’ I said standing.
‘Why are you here, Euphemia?’ he asked and his voice was colder than I had ever known it.
‘Isn’t the question rather why did I go?’
‘I think we know the answer to that one,’ he said. ‘Fitzroy. I told you he had his eye on you, but I never thought …’
I took two steps across the floor and slapped him hard on the face. He flinched and put up his hand to touch his reddening cheek. ‘How dare you,’ I said. ‘How dare you, who should know me better than anyone, believe that I would do anything so morally outrageous.’
‘You disappeared without a word. What was I supposed to think?’
‘I woke up with no servants in sight, the place crawling with police and no one but Milford, Fitzroy, whatever he is calling himself now, on hand to answer my questions.’
A Death in the Wedding Party Page 18