T Kinsey - A Quiet Life in the Country (A Lady Hardcastle Mystery Book 1)

‘I knew Emily’s mother, you know,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud. ‘Splendid woman. Met her when Hector and I were in India.’

‘How charming,’ said Mrs Seddon. Her accent was hard to pin down. She seemed to be trying hard to sound like a lady, but traces of her Bristol accent poked through the veneer, making her sound like a music hall artist playing a lady for a satirical skit. Or Mrs Elton from Emma , perhaps.

‘I’ve known Emily herself since she was very young,’ continued Lady Farley-Stroud. ‘It’s so wonderful to have you here with us, m’dear. Are you settling in? Not missing London at all?’

‘We’re enjoying ourselves immensely,’ said Lady Hardcastle, including me as she always did. Lady Farley-Stroud’s eyes flicked casually towards me but Mrs Seddon maintained her steadfast denial of my existence. It was as though she was continually having to remember to pay the likes of me no attention. The ability to ignore ‘the lower orders’ came naturally to those born into the gentry, as did an easy affability when circumstances allowed. Mrs Seddon was trying far too hard.

‘You’ve moved here from London?’ said Mrs Seddon. ‘I don’t blame you at all. I could never live in London.’

‘No?’ said Lady Hardcastle.

‘No. James is senior partner in a shipping firm, you know. Family business. They’ve been an important part of business life in Bristol for several generations. London holds no attraction.’

‘I’ve heard many people say that. We shall have to venture into town one day and explore Bristol properly.’

‘You should,’ said Mrs Seddon. Her championing of Bristol over the nation’s capital was starting to seem a little defensive.

‘Do you enjoy the theatre?’ asked Mr Seddon. ‘We have the Prince’s Theatre and the Theatre Royal—’

‘I’m sure Lady Hardcastle doesn’t want to hear you wittering on about the theatre, James,’ interrupted Mrs Seddon.

Lady Hardcastle would almost certainly have loved to hear all about it, but with her customary grace and tact, she navigated them to calmer conversational waters. ‘Would you be kind enough to convey my congratulations to your son, Mrs Seddon. I wish him and Clarissa a long and happy life together.’

‘Thank you, Lady Hardcastle. It makes one think of medieval times, doesn’t it – two important noble families coming together to form a powerful alliance.’

Domestic servants are required at all times to maintain an air of respectful discretion. It was only my years of experience that prevented me from laughing out loud at this pompous nonsense.

Sir Hector, on the other hand, felt no such professional obligation to tactfulness. He rolled his eyes again but this time was caught in the act by his wife. Her own eyes narrowed in warning as she saw him. He grinned sheepishly at her before winking at me.

‘Yes,’ said Lady Hardcastle, with an earnestness that must surely be put on. ‘It really does, doesn’t it?’

‘You’ll come to the party, of course, m’dear? I’m sure we mentioned it at dinner,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud. ‘Invitations have already gone out, but we didn’t know you were going to be among us.’

‘Oh, you really must,’ said Mrs Seddon. ‘Everyone who’s anyone will be there.’

‘I should be delighted, I’m sure,’ said Lady Hardcastle graciously.

‘Good show, good show. Well, we mustn’t keep you, m’dear. Sure you’ve got lots to do. We’re only halfway through our tour of the village ourselves.’

‘Have fun, Gertie, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Good day, Mr and Mrs Seddon. I’m glad to have met you at last.’

We left them to their ‘tour’ and resumed our own meanderings.

‘I may be wrong,’ said Lady Hardcastle as we passed Mrs Pantry’s grocery shop, ‘but I get the impression from what I’ve heard so far that Mr Seddon is very, very important indeed.’

‘Quite the most important businessman in Bristol by all accounts,’ I said. ‘Well, by his wife’s account, at any rate.’

‘Doesn’t say much, for such an important chap, though, eh?’

‘I’d be afraid to say anything at all if I were him,’ I said.

4

Lunchtime that day was a source of some amusement. For me, at least. When I explained to Edna and Miss Jones that I usually ate with Lady Hardcastle, it had caused them some consternation. I could see in their faces all the phrases I’d heard before over the years. ‘Who does she think she is?’ ‘Ideas above her station.’ ‘She ought to know her place.’

‘Don’t tease them, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle, when I told her about it. ‘You know how people get when you ignore the rules.’

‘They’re stupid rules,’ I said, almost petulantly.

‘I can’t say I wholly disagree with you, but don’t antagonize the staff or we’ll lose them.’

We ate and chatted as we usually did, and I soon forgot the narrow-eyed disapproval of the new housemaid and cook. When we were finished, I cleared the table and returned to the kitchen, expecting more mute disapprobation. I found, instead, Edna and Miss Jones behaving as if nothing were the matter. It was a rapid change of course, but I decided not to question it. For all I knew they were still clucking disapprovingly behind my back, but as long as we were able to rub along in person without any direct antagonism, life would be pleasant enough. Things were certainly easier for me with the cooking and cleaning taken care of, so I decided I could probably endure some mild disapproval.

A few minutes later Constable Hancock rang the front doorbell.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Armstrong,’ he said amiably, as I answered it. ‘Is Lady Hardcastle at home?’

‘She most certainly is, Constable,’ I said. ‘Won’t you come in? I’ll tell her you’re here.’

‘Thank you, miss, most kind.’

I left him in the hall and announced his arrival to Lady Hardcastle.

‘I heard, dear,’ she said. ‘Bring him in and you can join us with that pot of tea you were making.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘the tea. I’d forgotten all about that.’ I led Constable Hancock into the dining room and left them to talk. I went through to the kitchen, leaving the doors open the better to hear their conversation as I prepared the tea tray and made a separate pot for Edna and Miss Jones.

‘Well, then, Constable, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?’

‘It i’n’t nothin’ to worry about, m’lady, I just thought you might be interested to know what was happening in the Frank Pickering case. You remember Inspector Sunderland?’

‘I do. He seemed intelligent enough, but not very . . . interested. No, that’s not quite fair. But he gave the impression of having more important things to be getting on with.’

Constable Hancock paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to voice his thoughts. ‘He gave me that feeling too, m’lady, to tell the truth. But, anyway, I thought you’d like to know he’s arrested the man who done it.’

‘I say, really? That was quick work.’

‘We don’t hang about in the modern force, m’lady,’ he said with some pride.

I arrived with the tea tray at this point and poured tea for them both.

‘Thank you, dear. It seems not, Constable. But tell all, dear boy, how did he solve it?’

‘Well, m’lady, he started interviewing people on Thursday after he’d spoken to you and Miss Armstrong. He went to the Dog and Duck and talked to old Joe Arnold there. It seems Frank Pickering had been in the pub on Tuesday night. He got in a fearful row with Bill Lovell, one of the lads from the village, about a girl they was both sweet on. Seems all the cricketers was there, havin’ some sort of meeting, when Frank and this other lad started a terrible to-do. This lad Lovell said he was engaged to Daisy Spratt and how dare Frank be taking her out for a walk. And Frank said he could walk out with whoever he liked and Lovell could go hang. And Lovell had said he’d be the one who got hanged if he had anything to do with it and stormed out.’