02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall (5 page)

‘My
goodness,’ exclaimed Mrs Hodges, hands on hips. ‘Wherever were you brought up?
Have you never heard of speaking the King’s English?’

‘I talk
all right, so I do,’ the young man replied sulkily. ‘I don’t hold with all
those airs and graces and bowing and scraping. That all went out with the War,
so it did. I’m as good as the next man, I am.’

‘Then
why, pray, are you a valet by profession if you don’t agree with being in
service?’

‘’Cause
it suits me, that’s why.’

‘Have
you been in service long,’ enquired Crabtree, appearing suddenly at Mrs Hodges’
elbow and making her jump. ‘Do you know the first thing about what the job
entails?’

‘No and
no,’ replied the young man moodily. ‘But I’m a quick learner; that’s why his
lordship took me on. Besides,’ he continued, looking at them slyly, ‘I’m good
at doing other things apart from valeting.’

It was
inevitable, Rose supposed, that she and the baron would run out of things to
say and that he would feel obliged to let her turn to speak to the gentleman on
her right, unaware as he was of their history. He probably felt obliged too to
have a word with his wayward son, having first made a point of deliberately ignoring
him. She sighed. What a pity that it was expected in polite society that one
engage in conversation with the person seated on your right as well as the one
seated on your left.

Shortly
there was a lull in the conversation between Lord Sneddon and Isabella, so that
Sneddon turned his attention to Rose for the first time since they had been seated.
She took a deep breath, aware that not even the soup had yet been served and
that the dinner was likely to consist of some six or seven courses. She had
hoped that she would be able to put off speaking to Lord Sneddon until the meat
dish at the very least. She turned desperately to the baron to see if she could
reignite their dying conversation. She found however that, while the baron was still
furious with Hallam, he had resolved to take the opportunity between courses to
reprimand his son for his behaviour in words whispered angrily between clenched
teeth.

‘Ah,
Miss Simpson, this is a pleasant surprise,’ began Lord Sneddon, bestowing on her
an ambiguous smile. ‘Although I have to confess that I didn’t imagine that I’d
ever be seeing you again, certainly not so soon, not that it isn’t most
welcome.’

‘I wish
I could say the same,’ Rose retorted, primly. ‘But I’m afraid that I can’t. But
believe me, it’s just as much of a surprise for me to find you here.’

‘Oh,
don’t be like that, Rose,’ said Lord Sneddon, grinning. ‘Of course, I know that
I behaved abominably towards you at Ashgrove, but can’t we just let bygones be
bygones while we are both here?’

‘It’s
not quite so easy for me to do as you ask,’ replied Rose, remembering with a
shiver their last encounter on the staircase at Ashgrove, ‘but I suppose we
must, just while we’re both here.’ Besides, she had no intention of giving him
the satisfaction of ruining her weekend with Cedric.

‘That’s
a girl,’ beamed her dinner companion. ‘Now suppose you start by giving me a
friendly smile, or at the very least stop looking as if you’d like to disappear
under the table. Because I have to say, if looks could kill, young Cedric over
there would have finished me off three times already this evening.’

Rose
looked up. Cedric was indeed glaring at Sneddon in a manner which suggested
that he would like to do him harm. She felt herself panic. She must not let him
make a fool of himself as Hallam had done. Whatever Cedric had to say to Lord
Sneddon, and she was sure it was a great deal, she must ensure that he said it
in private.

‘You’d
never think that young Cedric and I used to be inseparable,’ continued Lord
Sneddon. ‘We were the absolute best of friends.’

That’s
before he was aware of your true character, Rose longed to say, but she held
her tongue. She would not be provoked for she felt sure that that was exactly
what he wanted.

‘I must
admit, Rose, I didn’t see your little romance with Cedric lasting, touching
though it was. It just proves me wrong, doesn’t it? He’s had a pretty rum time
of it, hasn’t he? The newspapers have been absolutely hounding him; fortunately
they don’t appear to know that I was there. I’m somewhat surprised that he
didn’t take a leaf out of dear Lavinia’s book and head for the Continent. I assume
she’s planning to stay there until all the fuss has died down, that’s what I’d
have done.’

‘Yes,
but Cedric isn’t you, is he?’ Rose said, finding it hard to keep her temper
despite her good intentions. ‘He isn’t the sort of man to run away from things.
Besides, he had all the estate affairs to sort out and of course the funerals
to arrange.’

‘Mr Crabtree,
is there absolutely no way you can manage at dinner without having young Robert
serve?’ asked the housekeeper, clasping her hands tightly together in her
agitation. She had collared the butler yet again in his parlour and he was
beginning to think that this, regrettably, was becoming a rather regular
occurrence, particularly when he saw her eyes darting around her on the search
for any sign of a hidden glass. Mrs Hodges, in turn, although never going so
far as to think that the butler had a problem with drink, was of the view that
in times of stress he had been known to overindulge to take the edge off his
anxiety.

‘I know
that you said before that you couldn’t, but I really don’t think it a good
idea. As it is we’ve had to keep him away from that awful manservant of Lord
Sneddon’s, Ricketts would you believe his name is. Mrs Gooden’s banned Robert
from her kitchen because she’s afraid he’s half a mind to take a meat cleaver
to him. He’s a thoroughly bad ‘un that one, mark my words. Still, it’s hardly
surprising if he takes after his master, is it?

‘Now,
now, Mrs Hodges, don’t let anyone else hear you say that. I’m not saying that I
don’t feel the same way about Lord Sneddon as you do, but we’ve got to set an
example to the lower servants you and I, otherwise where would we be?’ He took
a pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket, which he consulted. ‘Time to serve
dinner, I believe. We don’t want Mrs Gooden’s fine dishes to be spoilt, now do
we? And I’m afraid, as I’ve said before, if we could manage without Robert
having to serve at dinner tonight then we would. But we are already a man down
with Sidney in bed with the flu and Mr Tallow would be sure to drop a dish or
two if we asked him to stand in. I’d ask that fellow Ricketts to help out, but
I doubt whether he knows one end of a serving spoon from the other, even if we
could tidy him up a bit and get him to pass a comb through his hair.’ He bent
forward to whisper to the housekeeper in a conspiratorial manner, which Mrs
Hodges considered rather unnecessary since there were only the two of them
there in the room. ‘I’m going to be counting the silver while he’s here, I can
tell you, and keeping an eye on the master’s best port.’

‘And
I’ll be making sure that the attic door leading to the maid servants’ bedrooms
is kept securely locked at all times and all,’ Mrs Hodges said firmly.

‘A very
wise precaution,’ agreed the butler, ‘particularly after what happened before.’

Rose
looked about her, eager to find any distraction which meant that she would not
be obliged to continue her tiresome conversation with Lord Sneddon, which she
was beginning to find very tedious. It was a welcome relief when she saw the first
course being carried in. It appeared to be white soup, a rich soup made of
sweet almonds, poultry and cream, spiced with mace. The footman carefully put
the steaming hot tureen on the sideboard to enable him to ladle the soup into
the individual bowls which would be served to the guests accompanied by sherry.

Later,
Rose was surprised that she had not seen at the time that it was almost
inevitable that disaster would strike. For one thing, she noticed that the
young footman, whose task it was to serve the soup, appeared nervous and ill at
ease. Crabtree himself was looking on with trepidation, watching the footman’s every
movement like a hawk. As was the custom of the day, the footman began by serving
the first bowl of soup to Rose as she was on the right of the host. She could
not help but notice that his hands were shaking and she turned to study his
face which she noticed to her alarm was deathly white. It seemed to her that
there was a strong possibility that he might be about to collapse, and she wondered
whether she should draw this to the attention of the butler.

Before
she could make up her mind what to do, the footman had passed on to attend to the
next diner which should have been the lady on the host’s left, but as this
position was currently occupied by Hallam, the next to be served was Josephine.
Rose watched as the footman continued to serve straight round the table so that
Cedric was served next and then Isabella. It seemed to Rose, scrutinising the
footman’s behaviour as closely as she was, that he appeared to hesitate for a
moment when he came to serve Lord Sneddon. Everything then seemed to unfold in
slow motion and she wondered why she had not cried out a warning, for her eyes
had locked for a moment with those of the footman. All at once she knew
instinctively what he was about to do for she had been shocked by the look of
pure hatred lighting up the young man’s face as he focused his attention on
Sneddon. She put up her hand in a futile attempt to distract the footman from
his chosen course. He appeared oblivious to her action for, in a moment, he had
tilted the dish of hot, steaming soup so that its contents poured into Lord
Sneddon’s lap, like water tumbling down a waterfall.

Lord
Sneddon shot up out of his seat immediately with a loud cry of pain, his
trousers covered in the thick, creamy soup. The footman looked for a moment
stunned as if he could not quite believe what he had done. Quickly he became apologetic,
although Rose was certain that the spillage had been no accident. The footman
tried to wipe off the worst of the soup from Lord Sneddon’s clothes with a
napkin, but his attempts were ineffectual and lacked commitment, resulting in
Lord Sneddon waving him away angrily. The baron’s face was purple with rage as
he admonished the footman for all he was worth, advising him in no uncertain
terms that his services were no longer required and that he was to pack his
bags and leave on the morrow at first light. He then proceeded to turn his rage
on Crabtree, as if the butler was in some way responsible for the incompetence
of his staff.

Cedric,
Josephine and Hallam all acted as Rose would have expected. Not having foreseen
the mishap with the soup, they, not surprisingly, all looked shocked that such
a thing had occurred. Hallam began pleading with his father in vain on behalf
of the young footman. But this was to no avail as the baron was adamant that the
footman should forfeit his job forthwith. However, it was Isabella’s reaction
to the events that interested Rose most, because it was unexpected. While all
about her was confusion, raised voices, and gabbled apologies, with the coming
and going of servants as they tried to remove the worst of the mess from Lord
Sneddon’s clothing and the chair, Isabella alone remained calm and composed.
Rose studied her face closely and, although it seemed incredible considering
that the injured man was her fiancé, Rose was sure that the look on her face
was one of amusement. Indeed, unless she was very much mistaken, she would even
have gone so far as to believe that Isabella had smiled, as if she were
laughing at some private joke. Certainly she did not trouble herself to go to Sneddon’s
aid. Rather she remained seated, her spoon still in her right hand as if she
were debating whether or not it would be seemly for her to continue eating her
soup.

‘Crabtree,
get this man away from me,’ said the baron angrily, pointing to Robert, ‘and
get Lord Sneddon’s valet here now to see to his master. You’d better telephone
Doctor Brown as well.’

‘I’ll
be alright,’ said Sneddon, ‘no need for a doctor. But I’ll take your valet,
mine won’t be any good at dealing with this.’

‘You
heard his lordship. Get Tallow here, Crabtree’. The baron looked as if he were
about to request Hallam’s help, but thought better of it. ‘Cedric, would you
mind helping Lord Sneddon to his room and Crabtree you’d better have Mrs Gooden
make up one of her treatments for scalds.’

Within
a few minutes Sneddon was escorted from the dining room between Cedric and the
baron’s valet. An uncomfortable silence was left in their wake, broken at last
by an outburst from Hallam. ‘Well what did you expect, Father? Isabella, what –.’

‘Enough,’
thundered the baron. ‘We can talk about this later in private. In the meantime,
I suggest that we finish our soup and then adjourn to the drawing room until
Lord Sneddon is able to join us to resume our dinner. You hear that, Crabtree?’
The baron turned to address his butler. ‘Have the cook put back dinner.’

‘Yes,
my lord.’ The butler departed, fearing that the delay in serving the remainder
of the meal was likely to result in it being ruined, which would do nothing to
improve his master’s temper.

Following
a restless time in the drawing room where no one was quite sure what to do or
say, and where Hallam insisted on standing apart from the others angry and
sulky, Cedric and Lord Sneddon finally appeared, the latter in a fresh dinner
jacket which looked a couple of sizes too big for him and which Rose guessed probably
belonged to the baron. Lord Sneddon stared pointedly at Isabella for a moment,
who averted her gaze to study a picture on the wall. He gave a shrug and they
all traipsed back into the dining room, taking up their seats as if nothing untoward
had happened.