Murder at the Tea Party: 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery)

by Sonia Parin

  Murder at the Tea Party: 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery

  An Evie Parker Mystery Book 2

  Sonia Parin

  Murder at the Tea Party Copyright © 2019 Sonia Parin

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  About this book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Author Notes: Facts and Historical references

  Books by Sonia Parin (to May 2019. For any new releases please check the Author’s Amazon Page)

  About this book

  Warning: Afternoon tea with Lady Woodridge can and will be fatal.

  Evangeline ‘Evie’ Parker, Countess of Woodridge, has trekked out to her country estate, Halton House. It’s time to pick up the reins and re-establish herself in the district. No easy task when one of her afternoon tea guests is poisoned. Is it a coincidence when another afternoon tea guest is found dead from poison?

  Scotland Yard steps in. While Evie trusts they will find the killer, she takes exception when the finger of suspicion is pointed at her. Her chauffeur has made himself scarce, with good reason. Mr. Tom Winchester steps in to do his job which has nothing to do with helping Evie find a poisoner among the villagers.

  Evie has her hands full trying to keep the name of Woodridge free of scandal as well as mending fences with her maid Caro who has found a unique way of expressing her displeasure.

  If the poisoner doesn’t get her then, surely, her maid will…

  If you wish to receive news about my next release, please follow me on BookBub

  Chapter One

  Home Sweet Home

  Late spring 1920

  Halton House, Berkshire

  The Countess of Woodridge’s country estate

  “Caro, at some point, I might need to call upon you to be my alibi.”

  Her maid gave a small, barely perceptible nod but didn’t comment.

  Evie watched Caro fussing with her hair and tried to determine if she had said something to upset her. She stopped short of declaring she would parade through the village in the way Lady Godiva had because she suspected Caro’s response would be an insouciant shrug...

  Since arriving at Halton House late the previous evening, Evie had been distracted but not enough to miss Caro’s odd behavior. She couldn’t remember her usually chatty maid ever looking so tight-lipped. Evie would almost go so far as to say her maid sported a look of disapproval.

  “Will you be needing a hat today, milady?” Caro asked.

  “Yes, please. I’m meeting the estate agent and we’re going out for an early morning walk around the estate. I’d like to meet and greet as many tenants as I can during my stay. After a two-year absence, they’ve probably forgotten who I am or what I even look like. I might be hauled away as a trespasser.”

  Normally, such a remark would have produced a chuckle out of Caro but her lips remained pursed.

  “Caro, is there something worrying you?”

  “No, milady. I’m perfectly fine.” Her maid drew in a sharp breath. “The same can’t be said for a little seven-year-old boy forced to attend boarding school at such a tender age.”

  Ah… She had to be referring to Seth Halton. Her late husband’s heir and current Earl of Woodridge. “It’s called a preparatory school. There’s nothing unusual about it. In fact, it’s quite acceptable for someone of his rank to spend his formative years at boarding school.”

  Caro didn’t seem to agree.

  “Don’t you think he’s too young? He should be out and about, getting into scrapes…”

  “You forget who he is, Caro. I don’t have the skills or appropriate experience to bring him up. Besides, he was quite looking forward to it.”

  Caro harrumphed. “That’s because he wanted to get away from his tutors. Both Mr. Hurlington and Mr. Swindon are so severe looking, I wouldn’t be surprised if poor Seth had been suffering from night terrors.”

  “There’s nothing poor about Seth,” Evie murmured under her breath. Her late husband, Nicholas Halton, had been an astute landowner and investor, always thinking of the future. His estate continued to pay for itself and, because of his cautious guiding hand, would continue to do so for many generations to come.

  A knock at the door preceded the butler’s entrance. “My lady, there is a telegram for you.”

  “Thank you, Edgar.” Evie took the piece of paper and unfolded it with the eagerness of someone who’d been expecting news from abroad. Reading the message, she pressed her hand to her throat.

  “I hope it’s not bad news, my lady.”

  “No, Edgar. It isn’t.” At least not for her… However, she would have to deal with a very delicate matter.

  For a moment, Evie considered keeping the information to herself. Leaving the decision until later, she set the telegram aside and smiled at Edgar. “How are you enjoying being away from London?”

  She could tell Edgar had a great deal to say about taking up the role of butler at the country estate but her snooty butler would reserve his opinions. No matter how much she invited him to open up, he always abided by the less said is better rule.

  “It is a rare pleasure to spend a few months in the country, my lady.”

  Oh, yes. She would not have expected less than a well measured response. Edgar would definitely excel in the diplomatic arena, Evie thought. Basically, his remark suggested he would much rather avoid the country but would suffer a brief visit, enduring it in absolute silence because it would be improper and impolite to remark upon her ladyship’s decisions.

  “Thank you for stepping in, Edgar. Mr. Crawford appreciates you helping out during his hour of need. I hear his sister is on the mend but we should be generous and allow him to spend some extra time with her.”

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  Evie waited for Edgar to withdraw before taking another look at the telegram.

  “Have you seen Tom?” she asked Caro.

  “No, milady. After your arrival yesterday, he made himself scarce.”

  How would he react to the news? Did he already know? Maybe that’s why he’d made himself scarce, Evie thought.

  Several weeks back, she’d felt she had made some headway with her chauffeur. Tom Winchester had proven to be a surprise package with his ability to blend in almost anywhere, playing the role of Mr. Winchester, self-made man about town, to the hilt and withou
t a single fault.

  Unforeseen circumstances had taken care of wrenching away the social barriers that had been standing between them and Evie had enjoyed their even playing field but it hadn’t lasted. As soon as they had left the Duke of Hetherington’s house, Tom had reverted to his monosyllabic responses and, instead of continuing to call her Evie, he had resumed referring to her as ma’am but only because she had forbidden him to call her my lady. To think she’d had to threaten him with a one-way ticket back to Boston…

  “Will that be all, milady?”

  “Caro, you can’t possibly still be cross with me. Trust me, it is customary for young boys to be sent to boarding school.”

  “Yes, of course… I suppose…” Caro shrugged. “I think I entertained a few fanciful ideas about you taking him under your wing.”

  In an ideal world, Evie thought it might have been possible. But she still had her own wounds to deal with. Her husband had only been gone for two years. The moment she thought she’d overcome her loss, she found herself wanting to share something with him…

  How many times had she turned, laughing at some silly remark someone had made and wishing to share it only to suddenly remember he wasn’t there to hear her?

  “The poor little mite,” Caro continued. “He doesn’t have any family.”

  “Seth will be making lifelong friends at school,” Evie offered. “You really needn’t worry about him. In years to come, everyone he meets now will be attending house parties and balls at Halton House.” Evie went to stand in front of the mirror to inspect the ensemble Caro had selected for her. “I’ll need to see Mrs. Arnold later today to discuss the menus for the week. Could you please remind her?”

  Caro nodded. “Will you be lunching here today, milady?”

  Evie tilted her head from side to side. Caro had a particular talent for matching the colors of her clothes and she’d never had reason to question her attention to detail. However, something didn’t look quite right.

  Evie narrowed her gaze and scrutinized her reflection. “No, I think I’ll walk into the village and see what I can find there.”

  “You’ll have to remember to return in time for afternoon tea with the dowagers,” Caro reminded her.

  Evie stilled. She had forgotten. “It’s just as well Seth is so young and unmarried, otherwise… I’d be a dowager too.”

  Afternoon tea with the Most Honorable, the Dowager Countess of Woodridge. Two of them. Nicholas’s mother and grandmother.

  Upon her arrival at Halton House, she had been surprised to find they had both moved out and into the dower house nearby. She supposed she would hear all about the reasons why they had taken such a hasty course of action because...

  “Ours is not to reason why,” Evie murmured and added, “they’re probably trying to make a point.” Although, she suspected it would be up to her to unravel the message.

  Her relationship with her husband’s family had been smooth sailing from the start, but only because she had chosen to turn a blind eye. Of course, there had been hints of disappointment because Nicholas Halton, Earl of Woodridge had fallen in love with a foreigner instead of one of their own, but Evie had been sensible enough to appeal to their better natures. Instead of choosing to do everything her way, she had placed her destiny in their hands, making it clear she could not possibly do the job without their knowledgeable guidance.

  Evie adjusted her hat, tilting it to one side and then the other. It really did look odd but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then, on closer inspection, she noticed the bunch of little flowers had all the petals plucked out.

  Looking askance, Caro gave her an impish smile and handed her another hat. “Try this one, milady.”

  “Oh, much better.” Evie gave her maid a small smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d taken out your frustration on the poor petals.”

  Caro’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink and she whispered, “He is only seven.”

  Meet and greet

  “Hollyhock Farm is up ahead,” the estate agent said, his tone distracted.

  Mr. Gregory Wellington had met Evie at the doorstep. While she had looked forward to a walk, he had insisted on driving her to the nearest farms, saying he only had limited time to spend on the tour.

  Evie found herself saying, “I really don’t wish to impose on your schedule. Perhaps I could trek out alone and leave you to it.”

  But he wouldn’t hear of it. Either because he didn’t find it appropriate for the lady of the house to wander around unaccompanied or because he considered the local tenants his responsibility and he didn’t want the Countess of Woodridge imposing on his territory.

  As the motor car came to a stop, she looked ahead and saw another car disappearing down the narrow road. A chauffeur driven car. She couldn’t think of any reason why such a car would be driving out this way…

  She turned her attention to the farm and hollyhocks growing in abundance. “Oh, I see why it’s called Hollyhock Farm. I’ve never seen so many of them planted in the same place, but isn’t it early for blooms?”

  The agent gave a shrug. “I believe the tenant excels at greenhouse planting.”

  Evie found the idea intriguing. They had a small greenhouse at Halton House. She didn’t know the first thing about gardening but with so many people engaged to maintain the estate, she might be able to find someone willing to give her basic instructions. The more she thought about it, the more interested she became in finding something other than embroidery to engage her attention for a few hours…

  Glancing down the road again, Evie saw the car had now disappeared. She couldn’t help wondering what they might have been doing out this way. “What’s the tenant’s name?”

  “Charlie Timms. His family has been farming here for over a hundred years.”

  The man himself strode out to greet them and showed them through to his stables saying, “We diversified and introduced a stud farm and breeding program a couple of years ago at the Earl’s suggestion and it has paid dividends, my lady. His lordship’s input is sorely missed.”

  Evie couldn’t help noticing Charlie Timms was a bit of a stud himself. Tall with broad shoulders, his easy smile spoke of friendliness. When he directed a remark at Evie, his tone lightened and his smile reached all the way to his eyes.

  “We best keep moving, my lady,” the agent suggested.

  After an hour, Evie realized the agent wanted to get through the tour as quickly as possible, which made her wonder if he really did disapprove of her attempt to become better acquainted with the tenants. A subject best left for another day, she thought as she slipped her hand inside her pocket. Feeling the folded piece of paper, she realized today would be a day of postponing all major decisions for no other reason than to avoid treading on anyone’s toes.

  “You can drop me off here,” she said when they reached the village. “I’ll be happy to stretch my legs and make my own way back to Halton House.” And next time, she thought, she would pay everyone a visit on her own and have some relevant questions to ask. Now that she’d returned to England and to Halton House, she wanted to start making some sort of headway with her life. And that, she knew, meant she had to show an interest.

  Had to or wanted to?

  Giving a small nod of approval, Evie decided she wanted to take an interest. She already felt everything beginning to fall into place, almost as if she had been in a dream and had only now woken up to face the reality of life. One simply needed to get on with it.

  She couldn’t fault the agent’s ability to perform his job but his brisk manner had impeded her attempt to establish herself as a familiar figure in the area.

  Another nod confirmed her decision to do something about that…

  From a distance, she spotted a sign written in elegant script right above the picture of an enticing looking pie.

  Mrs. Baker’s Delights

  “A new addition,” she mused. When she reached the tea room, she peered through the window
and smiled. This hadn’t been here the last time she’d visited the small village of Halton. There were several tables covered with white tablecloths and adorned with pretty bouquets of wild flowers. Seeing a waitress stride by with a tray of dainty pies enticed Evie inside the tea room.

  The moment she stepped inside, she heard someone murmur her name. She saw a group of women sitting at a table huddling together as if to exchange what information they had about her.

  “A table by the window, please,” she said when the waitress approached her.

  “Certainly, milady. This way, please.”

  Happy with her choice because it offered a perfect view of the village as well as every table in the small establishment, Evie perused the menu. “This sounds delicious. Game pie.”

  “Excellent choice, milady. It is one of our most popular pies.”

  Evie smiled at the young waitress. “And some tea, please.”

  Moments later, the waitress returned. “Begging your pardon, milady. The ladies from the Hunt Ball Committee wonder if you would do them the honor of joining them at their table.”

  A committee? She couldn’t remember the Hunt Ball ever having a committee… Also, she hadn’t participated in one of those since… Well, since she’d left England. She supposed now that she’d returned there would be no more shirking off the responsibilities expected of her. There would be flower shows and fundraisers, tea parties and luncheons. Everything the dowagers would have been taking care of during her absence.