Snobbery With Violence

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DELICIOUS PRAISE FOR
MARION CHESNEY AND HER NOVELS

“Tourists are advised to watch their backs in the bucolic villages where M. C. Beaton sets her sly British mysteries.... Outsiders always spell trouble for the inbred societies Beaton observes with such cynical humor.”

—
The New York Times Book Review

“[Beaton’s] imperfect heroine is an absolute gem!”

—
Publishers Weekly

“Beaton’s Agatha Raisin series just about defines the British cozy.”

—
Booklist

“Anyone interested in . . . intelligent, amusing reading will want to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Agatha Raisin.”

—
Atlanta Journal Constitution

“Beaton has a winner in the irrepressible, romance-hungry Agatha.”

—
Chicago Sun-Times

“Few things in life are more satisfying than to discover a brand new Agatha Raisin mystery.”

—
Tampa Tribune Times

“The Raisin series brings the cozy tradition back to life. God bless the Queen!”

—
Tulsa World

“The Miss Marple-like Raisin is a refreshingly sensible, wonderfully eccentric, thoroughly likable heroine ... a must for cozy fans.”

—
Booklist

SNOBBERY WITH VIOLENCE

“Fans of the author’s Hamish Macbeth and Agatha Raisin mysteries, written under the name M. C. Beaton, will welcome this new series of historical whodunits.”

—
Booklist

“Old-hand Chesney maintains her charm and sassiness while indicting evergreen pomposity and class-status stupidity.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“Combines history, romance, and intrigue resulting in a delightful romantic mystery.... The who-done-it is well developed and captures reader interest from the outset.”

—
Midwest Book Review

AGATHA RAISIN AND
THE DAY THE FLOODS CAME

“A true village mystery with a heroine so timely and real, you’ll want to meet her at the pub.”

—
St. Petersburg Times

“Funny, breezy, and very enjoyable.”

—
Midwest Book Review

AGATHA RAISIN AND THE LOVE FROM HELL

“Among the many joys of all Agatha Raisin adventures are Beaton’s sweetly formal prose and her vivid descriptions of colorful villagers. This one, however, adds a crackerjack plot and a delightfully comic ending to the mix, making it clearly the best of the lot.”

—
Booklist
(starred review)

“[Agatha] is a glorious cross between Miss Marple, Auntie Mame, and Lucille Ball, with a tad of pit bull tossed in. She’s wonderful.”

—
St Petersburg Times

AGATHA RAISIN AND THE FAIRIES OF FRYFAM

“Witty... [a] highly amusing cozy.” —
Publishers Weekly

“More great fan from an endearing heroine.”

—
Library Journal

“Agatha is as fractious and funny as ever. Don’t miss this one.”

—
Tulsa World

“Outwardly bossy and vain, inwardly insecure and vulnerable, Agatha grows more endearing with each installment.”

—
Cleveland Plain Dealer

AGATHA RAISIN AND THE WIZARD OF EVESHAM

“Another deUghtful cozy featuring Cotswolds surroundings, a bit of history, and buoyant characters.”

—
Library Journal

“[A] smartly updated Miss Marple... . Beaton’s books about this tough little Raisin cookie are well made and smoothly oiled entertainment machines.... Trust Agatha to solve it all in style.”

—Amazon.com

“The return of Agatha Raisin, amateur sleuth extraordinaire, is always a treat and M. C. Beaton does not miss a beat.... Another fabulous English cozy by the great M. C. Beaton.”

—
Painted Rock Reviews

S
T
.M
ARTIN’S
/M
INOTAUR
P
APERBACKS
T
ITLES
BY
M
ARION
G
HESNEY

Snobbery with Violence
Hasty Death

W
RITING
AS
M.G. B
EATON
The Skeleton in the Closet

THE AGATHA RAISIN SERIES

Agatha Raisin and the Case of the Curious Curate

Agatha Raisin and the Day the Floods Came

Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

Agatha Raisin and the Fairies ofFryfam

Agatha Raisin and the Witch ofWyckhadden

Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham

Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death

Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist

Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage

Agatha Raisin and the Walkers ofDembley

Agatha Raisin and the Rotted Gardener

The Vicious Vet

The Quiche of Death

The Deadly Dance

SNOBBERY
WITH
VIOLENCE

M. G. BEATON WRITING AS
MARION CHESNEY

NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed’’ to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book/’

All characters in this book are figments of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead.

SNOBBERY WITH VIOLENCE

Copyright © 2003 by Marion Chesney.

Excerpt from
Hasty Death
copyright © 2004 by Marion Chesney.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 20030411351

ISBN: 0-312-99716-7
EAN: 80312-99716-8

Printed in the United States of America

St. Martin’s Press hardcover edition / July 2003
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / May 2004

St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

For my husband. Hairy, and my son, Charlie With Love

Sapper, Buchan, Donford Yates, practitioners in that school of Snobbery with Violence that runs like a thread of good-class tweed through twentieth-century literature.

— ALAN BENNET

ONE

All the world over, I will back the masses against the classes.

-WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE

Unlike White’s or Brooks’s, it was simply known as The Club, lodged in a Georgian building at the bottom of St. James’s Street, hard by St. James’s Palace. Its membership was mostly comprised of the younger members of the aristocracy, who considered it a livelier place than the other stuffy gentlemen’s clubs of London.

Some of them felt that the acceptance of Captain Harry Cathcart into The Club was a grave mistake. When he had left for the Boer War, he had been a handsome, easygoing man. But he had returned, invalided out of the army, bitter, brooding and taciturn, and he seemed unable to converse in anything other than cliches or grunts.

One warm spring day, when a mellow sun was gilding the sooty buildings and the first trembling green leaves were appearing on the plane trees down the Mall, Freddy Pomfret and Tristram Baker-Willis entered The Club and looked with deep disfavour on the long figure of the captain, who was slumped in an armchair.

“Look at that dismal face,” said Freddy, not bothering to lower
his voice. “Enough to put a fellow off his dinner, what?”

“Needs the love of a bad woman,” brayed Tristam. “Eh, Harry. What? Rather neat that, don’t you think? Love of a bad woman, what?”

The captain, by way of reply, leaned forward, picked up the
Times
and barricaded himself behind it. He wanted peace and quiet to think what to do with his life. He lowered his paper once he was sure his tormentors had gone. A large mirror opposite showed him his reflection. He momentarily studied himself and then sighed. He was only twenty-eight and yet it was a face from which any sign of youth had fled. His thick black hair was showing a trace of grey at the temples. His hard and handsome face had black heavy-lidded eyes which gave nothing away. He moved his leg to ease it. His old wound still throbbed and hurt on the bad days, and this was one of them.

He was the youngest son of Baron Derrington, existing on his army pension and a small income from the family trust. His social life was severely curtailed. On his return from the war, he had been invited out to various dinner parties and dances, but the invitations faded away as he became damned as a bore who rarely opened his mouth and who did not know how to flirt with the ladies.

He put the
Times
back down on the table in front of him, and as he did so, he saw there was a copy of the
Daily Mail
lying there. Someone must have brought it in, for The Club would never supply a popular paper. There was a photograph on the front of a suffragette demonstration in Trafalgar Square and an oval insert of a pretty young girl with the caption, “Lady Rose, daughter of the Earl of Hadshire, joined the demonstrators.”

Brave girl, thought the captain. That’s her social life ruined. He put the paper down again and forgot about her.

But Lady Rose was possessed of exceptional beauty and a large dowry, so a month later her parents felt confident that her support for the suffragettes would not be much of a barrier to marriage. After all, the very idea of women getting the vote was a joke, and so they had told her, in no uncertain terms. They had moved to their town house in Eaton Square and lectured their daughter daily on where her duty lay. A season was a vast expense and England expected every girl to do her duty and capture a husband during it.

Normally, the independently-minded Lady Rose would have balked at this. She had been refusing a season, saying it was nothing more than a cattle market, when, to the delight of her parents, she suddenly caved in.

The reason for this was because Lady Rose had met Sir Geoffrey Blandon at a pre-season party and had fallen in love— first love, passionate all-consuming love.

He appeared to return her affections. He was rich and extremely handsome. Lady Rose was over-educated for her class, and her obvious contempt for her peers had given her the nickname The Ice Queen. But to her parents’ relief, Sir Geoffrey appeared to be enchanted by their clever daughter. Certainly Rose, with her thick brown hair, perfect figure, delicate complexion and large blue eyes, had enough attributes to make anyone fall for her.