Chapter Seventeen
Lady Mary
While I’d had my reservations about investigating a darkened ground floor, I wasn’t about to be told to stay put.
Gripping the banister, I hurried down the stairs, following Mr. Ryder and Mr. Evans.
Ryder picked up the oil lamp that was kept burning by the front door on a low wick and started for the front sitting room.
“The disturbance came from that direction.” I pointed at Perrin’s study. At least that’s where the sound had seemed to emanate.
Evans picked up a large candlestick. Plucking out the candle, he tossed it aside then prowled towards the room, holding the heavy silver stick aloft like a weapon. Ryder was only a step behind.
“What has happened?” The butler blinked sleepily at me as he and several other servants gathered around, most of them holding candles of their own.
“Rocks,” Ryder called from the study. He came to stand at the doorway. “Someone threw a rock at each of the windows in here. It’s a mess.”
We all surged forward, wanting to have our own looks at the destruction.
Miss Smith inched over the threshold, toeing a large piece of glass aside. “Who would do this?”
Evans scowled at her and clomped forward.
He had taken the time to shove his feet in boots before rushing out of his room.
Reaching her, he bent, wrapped one arm beneath her rear, and stood, holding her most inelegantly.
He carried her from the room and set her down near the large round table in the middle of the hall.
“There is much glass and you have bare feet.” He stomped back to the room, examining everyone’s feet as he passed.
“It would be best if everyone left the room,” Ryder said. “There’s nothing to see besides.”
I ignored that suggestion. After all, I had put on my slippers before I’d left my room, and I was still thinking about Miss Smith’s question.
Who would have done this, and why? I surveyed the gathered crowd.
All the guests had come down and joined the servants in the main hall. Everyone seemed to be accounted for.
I pressed my lips tight. I should have counted heads at the top of the stairs to see if anyone were missing then. There had been plenty of opportunity since we’d all descended for the malefactor to have rejoined the assembly after having his sport with rocks. It was poorly done.
But I couldn’t go back in time, so there was no use nursing that annoyance.
If I couldn’t determine who, I would have to ponder on the why.
It seemed so petty, smashing up windows.
Childish. If it was the killer who had done it, surely he would have already achieved the ultimate satisfaction in destroying the master of the house.
Attacking the house itself would be a poor satisfaction in comparison.
A gust of wind blew a stack of papers from the desk, and Evans muttered an oath. I bent to retrieve them as Ryder herded the last of the onlookers from the room and Evans searched out the butler.
“Are there wood and nails available to board these windows?” he asked.
The butler nodded. “By the stables. Johnny can fetch it.” He pointed at a young footman.
Evans clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, and followed the footman out.
Mr. Ryder stood in the threshold. He looked between me and the rest of the party in the hall. “Well, there isn’t much we can do here. We may as well go back to bed.”
I stared at the windows. One of the rocks had made all of the glass fall out of its pane, except for some small jagged points around the frame. The other window had remained intact, however, only missing a rock-sized hole near the center.
Rocks through windows were petty, yes. It could be attributed to boys having their idea of fun, or a drunken lark.
But something about this act chilled my bones.
It could also be an expression of pure hatred, and if killing Perrin hadn’t been sufficient for the murderer to excise his animus, then what else might be in store?
“Lady Mary.” Mr. Ryder came to the desk and took the papers from my hand. He put them in a neat pile and placed a paperweight on top. “There’s nothing to be done here. May I escort you to your room?”
A maid came in with a broom, and I realized that not only was there nothing I could do, but that I would be in the way, a circumstance I particularly detested. “Of course.” My grim musings could be had elsewhere.
I took his arm and let him lead me out. Most everyone else had already returned to their rooms, and we followed Lord and Lady Havenstone up the staircase.
“Try to get some sleep,” Ryder told me at the door of my room.
I inclined my head and endeavored to do just that.
Sadly, I failed. When I joined the others for breakfast in the dining room the next morn, it looked as though I wasn’t the only one who had tossed and turned all night.
There were dark shadows under many ladies’ eyes, and Mr. Taylor looked as though he hadn’t had the vigor to comb his hair properly that morning.
Bertram looked even worse, his eyes red and his skin sallow.
His hand trembled faintly as he brought a bit of toast to his mouth.
I poured myself a cup of tea, adding an extra lump of sugar, and took my seat.
“How did you sleep, Lady Mary?” Miss Smith spread marmalade on a slice of toast across from her.
I decided not to respond to that question, only gave her a look.
One which she must have misinterpreted. “I had a splendid night’s sleep after all of that unpleasantness,” she continued.
Yes, she was one of the only people who did look well this morn. Her hair was glossy, her eyes bright, her attitude unforgivably cheerful. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I caught Mr. Evans giving the young woman a furtive glance or two.
Mr. Taylor, on the other hand, was scowling at Miss Smith.
“I hear the constable was finally sent for.” Lady Havenstone turned to her husband. “Hopefully we can away on the morrow. There is something in the air in this house that is unwholesome. I can feel it in my lungs.”
Lord Havenstone patted her hand. “We’ll take some walks about the grounds today. It will fix you right up.”
If the roads were clear enough to send for the constable, then I should be able to send my letter today, as well. I would have to remember to give it to the butler.
“Lord, yes.” Mr. Smith rose and filled his plate from the sideboard once more. “Pack your trunk this evening, Katherine. I want to leave first thing.”
“If we are given permission.” I tapped my thumb against the rim of my cup.
Time was running short. I had been hoping for the arrival of an authority figure since Perrin was killed, but now I saw the difficulties in investigating the murder when all of the suspects had dispersed to their own homes.
Even a trained magistrate would find it trying, having to travel to get answers to his questions.
Many of us were in London, Miss Walker local, but the Havenstones lived somewhere in the north.
And who knew where Mr. Taylor would travel to for new employment?
I stood. “Where are the rocks that were thrown through the windows?” I addressed Mr. Evans, hoping he would know.
He paused, his fork holding a bit of pork inches from his mouth. He lowered his hand. “By the front steps. Why?”
“I would like to see them.” Ignoring the curious looks, I made for the front hall.
“Why do you want to see the rocks?” Evans followed me out the front door and down the short flight of steps to the graveled drive.
I turned and spotted two stones that appeared out of place nestled along the side of the stone staircase. I pointed at them and the attorney nodded. “I want to see how heavy they are. Could a woman have thrown them through the windows?”
I strode to them. One was about the size of two of my fists held together, the other a bit larger.
I bent and lifted the larger one. My back protested when I straightened.
“Well, I can hold it, but tossing it at a window might prove difficult.” I would have to be standing quite close to the window.
One of the rocks had traveled to the far shelves, though I supposed it could have rolled most of the way.
Evans cleared his throat. “They are a bit unwieldy, I grant, but perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult for a younger woman….”
He trailed off at my glare.
“Did you notice anyone late to join the gathering in the hall last night?” I asked. “And aside from Mr. Ryder, did you notice who came out of their bedrooms after the noise?”
“No and no.” He ran his hand up the back of his head. The sun fell full on his face, and he squinted. “I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking about trying to identify the rock thrower until it was too late.”
As the same thing had happened to me, I couldn’t judge the man. I also couldn’t hide my disappointment. “I fear this is hopeless. We will have learned nothing of import by the time the constable arrives to take over.”
“No one else has been harmed.” Evans took the rock from my hands and replaced it on the ground. “That is what we were trying to prevent. When the constable arrives, I will be happy to place this burden into his hands.”
I frowned. It was a sensible opinion, but one I didn’t share. I didn’t like leaving things unresolved, and if I left for London now, it would eat at me.
Not having any other ideas, however, I decided to turn my attention to something I could accomplish. I bid my adieus to Mr. Evans and circled around the house to enter the kitchens by the servant’s entrance. Discretion in this matter was advisable.
The expression on the scullery maid’s face when I came inside was comical. She jumped to her feet, but I waved her back down. “I need nothing but a word with the…”
Mr. Ryder stood by the oven, his hand on Cook Clem’s shoulder, for all appearances in a deep discussion.
“…cook,” I ended. Inhaling sharply, I stomped over to the pair.
Ryder dropped his hand and gave me a pleasant smile. “Lady Mary. I would like to say I’m surprised to see you down here, but—”
“Don’t smile and simper at me, Mr. Ryder.
” I planted my hands on my hips. “All that nonsense about accepting Perrin’s invitation because you were concerned about me was a load of hogwash.
You came because you want to steal Cook Clem away from Perrin Manor.
” I hadn’t thought Ryder had means enough to hire a highly sought-after chef, but Cook Clem’s meals were succulent enough to suffer other privations to obtain.
Ryder had the decency to flush. “Both things can be true. I was concerned, and curious, about such a brother-in-law. But the head of my social club heard I had been invited to Perrin’s home.
He asked that I try to tempt Cook Clem away from his current employment and work for us.
London must be a more interesting locale to live in than the countryside of southeast England,” he said to Clem.
“And now with the earl gone, you might not have employment here for long, in any case.”
“Yes, London is more suited to a young, virile man like Cook Clem.” I turned my most engaging smile on the cook.
“But you wouldn’t want to work for some stuffy club.
No, a private home is a much better situation.
If you come to work for me, I can guarantee you will be admired by the cream of London society, including my nephew, the Duke of Montague. ”
I rarely entertained, but Clem didn’t need to know that. I felt a bit shameless dropping Montague’s name into the conversation, but a chef as talented as Clem would want to be admired by the highest in society. “I can guarantee your wages will be higher with me, as well.”
“Now just a moment.” Ryder drew himself up straight. His baritone voice deepened even further. “My club can—”
Clem flapped both hands at them. “No fighting, no fighting. My cooking is supposed to bring joy, not disharmony.”
“But….”
He held up a plump finger, stopping my entreaty. “I have many kind offers that I will have to consider.”
I narrowed my gaze. Who else had been offering for him?
“Now,” he continued, “I need someone to taste the new cakes I have been experimenting with.” He ushered us to the wide plank table the servants ate at and sat us down.
He returned with two teacup-sized dainties and placed one before each of us.
“You must tell me your thoughts. I am uncertain if the citrus and caraway flavors meld together as they should.”
I picked up a fork, glaring at Ryder.
His lips twitched as he picked up his own fork.
We both dug in at the same time. My eyes closed at the first taste. Exquisite. “Is that lemon?”
Clem tucked his thumbs in his apron and smiled. “Nothing so pedestrian. It is a hint, just a hint, mind you, of grapefruit.”
The flavors shouldn’t have worked together. I couldn’t imagine anyone else trying to pair the herb with the exotic fruit. But it was delicious, and I wanted Clem working for me more than ever.
Clem made excuses and left us as we finished our treats. “Who else do you think approached him?” I asked Ryder. “I’ll bet it was those Havenstones. She is always saying how Clem’s is the only cooking that doesn’t upset her digestion.”
Ryder licked a crumb from his fork and sighed. “I don’t know, but I will be at my club every afternoon if we obtain his services.”
“You won’t.” I finished my own last bite.
Ryder raised his eyebrows. “Is that a challenge?”
“We could make it a bet, but I know how you feel about those.” I stood and gave one last look at the counter where more of the cakes cooled. I did hope Clem had made enough so I could enjoy this dessert again tonight. With a nod of my head, I left the kitchen and headed for the stairs.
I might not be able to discover who killed Perrin, and that defeat would sting.
But if Cook Clem was in my kitchen, I felt sure I would be able to overcome any disappointment.