T Kinsey - Death Around the Bend (A Lady Hardcastle Mystery Book 3)

Not that Codrington Hall was in any way pedestrian. At some point in the early eighteenth century, the Earl of Riddlethorpe had clearly had a bob or two, and had spent a goodly portion of his fortune on tearing down his crumbling ancestral pile and replacing it with an enormous new home, a magnificent monument to his family’s wealth and prestige. Though many thought it old-fashioned and still preferred the Victorian frippery and folderol of the neo-Gothic, I was always impressed by the elegant symmetry of Georgian architecture. Codrington Hall was a stunning example of the beautiful simplicity of that period. Its only adornment was an ostentatiously pillared portico, sheltering vast, black painted doors, from which a gangling man in overalls was apparently coming to greet us, accompanied by two boisterous, almost exactly matching Dalmatians.

‘What ho!’ he called loudly over the excited barking of the dogs. Lady Hardcastle waved in acknowledgement while she waited for Morgan to trot round and open the door for her.

‘What ho,’ said the man again as she stepped out. ‘Wonderful to see you again, Emily, old girl.’

‘Good afternoon, Edmond, darling,’ she said, kissing his cheek.

‘“Edmond”,’ he said. ‘You know it was only ever you and Mater that called me that.’

‘Yes, darling, but I never could bring myself to call you Fishy.’

He let out a short bark of a laugh, which caught the attention of the dogs, who gave up their wagging investigation of the cases and trunks that Morgan was unloading from the motor car and came over to resume their own chorus of barking. Lord Riddlethorpe ruffled their ears fondly and pointed towards the front door.

‘Off you go, girls,’ he said. ‘Back to the house.’

To my astonishment, the two dogs immediately obeyed, bounding off towards the house with ears flapping and tails still wagging wildly.

Lord Riddlethorpe took Lady Hardcastle by the arm and steered her towards the house. ‘I’m so delighted you’ve come,’ he said. ‘Harry was a bit reluctant to ask, I think, but I said, “Nonsense, Fanners, bring Little Sis along and we can relive the old days.” It’ll be like being back up at Cambridge, what?’

‘Well, I’m glad he thought of me. It’s just the sort of break we need, isn’t it, Armstrong?’

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards me. ‘My word,’ he said. ‘So this is the famous Miss Armstrong. How do you do?’

‘How do you do, my lord?’ I said cautiously, not quite knowing whether being ‘the famous Miss Armstrong’ was a good thing or bad.

He beamed at me. ‘Don’t panic, old thing,’ he said. ‘Fanners has been singing your praises. He’s frightfully proud of his little sister, but he speaks so highly of you that a chap might think Emily here were your assistant, instead of the other way round.’

‘Gracious,’ I blurted.

‘Gracious, indeed,’ he laughed. ‘For my sins, I am Edmond Codrington, ninth Earl of Riddlethorpe. But you must call me Fishy – everyone does, you know.’

‘Thank you, my lord,’ I said.

He laughed again and turned to resume his walk to the house. ‘Morgan will show you to the servants’ hall, Miss Armstrong. We’ll make sure they look after you.’

And with that, they were gone, leaving Morgan and me standing on the drive surrounded by luggage.

‘Which one’s yours, Miss Armstrong?’ he said, gesturing to the pile of cases.

I pointed to my case, and he hauled it out and set off towards the right-hand side of the enormous house.

‘We’ll get you introduced,’ he said, ‘then one of the boys can carry your bag up to your room – I think they’ve put you in with Mrs Beddows’s maid, but she’s not here till tomorrow, so you should have the place to yourself tonight, at least.’

‘Mrs Beddows?’ I said.

‘One of Lady Lavinia’s friends. She’s a bit quiet, but you’ll like her, I’m sure.’

‘Mrs Beddows?’ I said, again.

He laughed. ‘No, her maid. Mrs Beddows is a right cow.’

It was my turn to laugh.

He conducted me down the side of the house to a flight of stone steps that led down to the servants’ entrance, where he let himself in, gesturing me to follow him. ‘Labyrinthine’ is a word much overused. Actually, it probably isn’t overused, now I come to think of it, but it’s certainly a word that has lost some of its power by being used to describe any vaguely twisty route, and now no longer seems adequate to describe the system of passages beneath Codrington Hall. I quickly gave up trying to remember landmarks and turns, and instead devoted all my attention to following my guide. Theseus would long since have run out of thread before we finally reached the servants’ hall, and poor old Ariadne would have died an old maid, ravaged by regret that her lover was lost forever for want of a bigger ball of thread. A much bigger ball of thread.

Eventually, we reached the spacious servants’ hall where the staff would congregate and eat. A footman sat at the long table with newspaper spread in front of him, polishing a large silver dish. He looked up as we walked in.

‘How do, Evan?’ said Morgan cheerfully.

The footman nodded.

‘This is Miss Armstrong, Lady Hardcastle’s maid. You couldn’t do us a favour and run her case up to the spare room next to Lily and Rose’s, could you? She’s sharin’ it with Mrs Beddows’s maid when they get here.’

‘I got this polishin’ to do,’ he said sullenly.

‘Go on, it’ll only take you a couple of minutes.’

‘Why can’t you do it?’ said the footman in the same resentful tone.

‘I’ve got to put the motor away, ’aven’t I? Go on, you lazy beggar. You could have done it in the time it’s taken you to sit there tellin’ me how busy you are.’

‘Mr Spinney won’t like it if he finds out I’ve been galivantin’ about the house while I’m s’posed to be doin’ this.’

‘Mr Spinney would be delighted that you’d helped a guest feel welcome and comfortable in his lordship’s home,’ persisted Morgan.

‘Mr Spinney would indeed,’ said a deep voice from the doorway to our right. ‘Up off your backside and do as you’re asked, Evan Gudger. This instant.’

A tall man with thinning dark hair entered the room and inclined his head towards me. ‘How do you do, Miss Armstrong? My name is Spinney, his lordship’s butler. I trust you had a pleasant journey.’

‘How do you do, Mr Spinney? Yes, thank you, it was long, but comfortable.’

‘Good, good,’ said the butler. ‘Welcome to Codrington Hall. One of the housemaids will show you to your mistress’s room while Evan here takes your case up for you, and we can get you settled into your own room later. Dinner is at eight, and his lordship prefers to dress informally. You’re welcome to dine with us, or we can have a tray sent up to your room, as you prefer.’

‘Thank you, Mr Spinney,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’m sure I shall be all in by the time I’ve finished my day’s work, so a tray would be most welcome. You’re very kind.’

‘Not at all,’ he said warmly. ‘I always feel that his lordship’s guests have come to relax, so it’s our duty to try to give their servants a break, too. Of course, should you desire some company, we’re a friendly enough crowd, but I know I relish a few moments on my own once in a while. Now then, boys, off you go. Let’s get our guests settled.’

I nodded my thanks, and followed the maid out of the hall, along more labyrinthine passages to the servants’ stairs, and eventually to Lady Hardcastle’s room.