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Authors: Caroline Dunford

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BOOK: A Death in the Wedding Party
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‘Apart from the man that attacked me, you mean,’ I said scathingly. ‘Get up, Rory. This is silly.’

Rory let go of my hands and stood. He had a mulish look in his face. ‘If you won’t do what must be done to protect you then I will. I’ll not put my pride before your safety,’ he said and stormed out leaving me quite speechless.

I dusted myself down as best I could as a fair bit of the dust in the room appeared to now be clinging to me and decided what I needed more than anything was a breath of fresh air to clear my head. A turn in the garden, in full view of the house, would keep me safe and best of all, solitary. As well as trying to solve this mystery, my head was abuzz with the voices and actions of Bertram and Rory. Both of whom I thought were acting far out of character. I caught sight of myself in a mirror as I was about to leave. The woman who looked back at me was a stranger, finely dressed and with a reserved and concerned impression on her face. My hair was different as were my make-up and clothes, but my eyes, the windows of my soul, told a different story; that I was the same inside as I had ever been. I could not help but wonder if either Bertram or Rory knew me at all. My reflection blinked back tears. How could either of them believe that a few fancy clothes would change the real me?

I walked briskly and with purpose down and out into the garden. I was doing my best to avoid the majority of the guests. I knew the longer I was in conversation with a stranger the more chance I had of people discovering who I really was.

I also had a strong feeling there was something I was missing. Not something I had heard, but something I had seen. If I could only work out what this was then I would be several steps closer to understanding what was going on. I needed time and space to think.

It was a fine day. A gardener had been at work somewhere and the scent of freshly mown grass was strong and sweet in the air. Birds called and a faint breeze stirred between the leaves on the trees. Ahead of me I could see a little wooden house, built , I imagined for some long grown up children. The green paint was peeling and spider had spun thick webs across the windows. Still, it was a sweet reminder of happier times. The sounds and smells were so familiar I shut my eyes and imagined myself back in the vicarage garden long before any of this had all begun. In my mind’s eye I could see my father, in a battered old straw hat that my mother hated, apologizing to the weeds as he pulled them from the flower beds.

I was so lost in reminiscence that I never heard the footsteps behind me. I had no idea I was not alone until I was firmly taken by the arms and bundled into that sweet little summer house.

Chapter Twenty-nine
A Surprising Appeal for Help

The interior of the summerhouse was dark. A weak light filtered through the cobwebs. This increased substantially when I put my hand through one cluster of webs trying to steady myself. A shaft of sunlight landed on my capturer’s face. Electric blue eyes bored into mine. The angry words on my tongue faded. Fear crept over my skin, turning me cold with dread.

‘Mr Tipton,’ I said in suitably confused tones, ‘what is this all about?’

Tipton took a step towards me and I shrunk back against the dirty wooden wall. I could feel my splendid dress catching on splinters. Baggy Tipton held up both his hands. He backed away from me towards the door and shot a bolt home. I took a deep intake of breath and prepared to scream.

‘Don’t,’ said Tipton, ‘I don’t mean you any harm.’

‘It’s your normal practice to lock women in summerhouses for their entertainment, is it Mr Tipton? Because I’m not finding this very entertaining.’

‘I couldn’t think of a way to speak to you alone,’ said Tipton. ‘When I saw you walking in the garden it seemed too good a chance to miss.’

‘You could have simply asked me to meet you?’

‘Would you have come?’ asked Tipton. I didn’t respond. ‘I didn’t think so. Besides, Rich gets rather jealous, and I didn’t want to put her back up before the wedding.’

‘What is that you think I can help you with – precisely?’

Tipton sat down on a pile of old stacks, but he kept himself between me and the door. ‘I don’t know. Can’t seem to think straight at the moment. Wedding nerves I expect. If there is going to be a wedding.’

‘Has it been called off?’

‘Not yet, but I get the distinct impression that Richard doesn’t want it to go ahead. Apparently he and Rich are completely at odds. Had a right old ding-dong. And I have no idea why.’

‘You argued with Richard on the night of the murder, didn’t you? What was that about?’

Tipton frowned. ‘Did we? I was very drunk. Someone, a servant, fetched me when Richenda and her stepmother were at it. I got there too late and Richie refused to speak to me. I thought she was giving me the heave-ho, so I went downstairs and got very drunk. Very, very drunk. Everything after that’s a bit of a mist. Woke up in me own bed with a thumper of a headache and a mouth like the inside of …’ he broke off. ‘But that’s not the point.’

I waited. Tipton hadn’t threatened me yet and he didn’t appear violent. I had no intention of provoking him.

‘Thing is,’ said Tipton rubbing his face in his hands, ‘thing is I want you to take back your words. What you told the policeman about Lady S being murdered.’

‘I don’t believe they think she was,’ I said carefully.

‘Know me brother, Tip-top? One of the best. Everyone likes him. No, I don’t suppose you do. I keep forgetting you’re only a servant in that get-up. Looks good on you. Almost a lady and all that.’ He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. ‘Thing is, Tip-top gave me a sort of brotherly warning that one of our guests might be linked to people high up. People who make a habit of knowing stuff. So I need you to tell the police you were wrong.’

‘Mr Tipton, I think you overestimate the weight my opinion carries with Chief Inspector Brownly. ‘

‘Damn it,’ spat Tipton leaping to his feet and a fist into his palm. ‘That’s not what I need to hear.’ He began to pace up and down the little summer house breathing heavily. Every few steps he slammed his fist into his other hand. Then he start talking very quickly under his breath. I kept very still, but cast my glance about looking for something, anything I could use as a weapon if he came for me. The cob webby windows were tiny. Even if I smashed one I’d never get through it in this dress and we were far enough away from the main house that no one was likely to hear it.

‘I’ll do whatever I can do help,’ I said. Tipton stopped pacing and threw me an enormous smile. ‘I knew you were good stuff,’ he said. ‘Stepping up to the mark in Richie’s hour of need and all that. Thing is, I don’t know what you can do. Don’t know what any of us can do.’

‘Why don’t you tell me what’s worrying you,’ I said. ‘And I’ll do what I can to help.’

At this he launched himself at me, grabbed one of my hands and brought it to his lips. ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Good girl. I told Richie you were a good ‘un. Damn thing is she’s one of those who always takes against the pretty girl and you’re a stunner.’ He kissed my hand again. I resolved to wash it as soon as I got out of here. If I got out of here. He let me go and began pacing again. ‘But it’s no good,’ he said. ‘No good. Can’t think of a way out of it. Richard and his bloody deals have drawn too much attention. He’s got enemies, you know.’ He turned his gaze to me and I saw his eyes were feverishly bright. ‘They’re out for him.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

Tipton tapped the side of his nose. ‘Better you don’t know,’ he said, ‘but they’re there. Waiting in the shadows and they’re not going to let this drop. I know they’re not. Once we’re married it will be all righty-tighty. Related to an Earl and all that. She’ll be safe once she’s mine.’

‘Richenda?’ I asked. ‘You think someone wants to harm Richenda?’

‘No, damn and blast it! Don’t you understand? Richenda killed Lady S and I’ve got to protect her. I’ve got to be her knight in shining armour and take her away from all this.’

‘She told you this?’

‘No. No. She’s trying to protect me the darling, but I know. She had that fight with her. Stands to reason Lady S must have been trying to stop the wedding. Richie’s dead set on marrying me. Determined girl. Doesn’t let anything get in her way once she’s set her mind to it. Great girl. Fond of her. Have to help. We need to get the policemen out of the house. Maybe we could find a pasty.’

I couldn’t see how a picnic was going to help matters. Then light dawned. ‘Do you mean patsy?’

‘That’s what I said,’ said Tipton. ‘You are taking this seriously, aren’t you? You are Richenda’s friend, my friend, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ I said wondering if I could edge past him to the door. Suddenly he launched himself at me and caught me by the throat. His hand cruelly gripping me. ‘Cos if you’re not our friend then I’ll have to do something about it. I have to protect Richenda. I have to. Nothing. No one will stop me.’

I couldn’t speak, but I nodded my agreement as vehemently as I could. He let me go as suddenly as he had attacked. ‘Good girl,’ he said in a normal voice. ‘Good girl. Here, watch those cobwebs, you’ll spoil that lovely frock.’

‘Thank you,’ I said and forced myself to stay still as he brushed them from my sleeve and skirt.

‘What we need to do is find someone else to blame.’

‘Good idea,’ I said carefully. ‘Do you have anyone in mind?’ If at this point he had suggested that the moon was made of small lost cats I would have agreed with him.

Tipton waved his hands airily. ‘Anyone will do.’

‘It might be a good idea for it to be a servant,’ I said. ‘They are unlikely to have anyone to defend them.’

Tipton approached me and again and pointed a finger at me for emphasis. ‘Excellent idea. Excellent. That’s the kind of thinking I need.’

‘Merry knows all the servants,’ I said. ‘I could get her to tell me about them. You know how she loves to gossip and she wouldn’t have any idea why. Then I could pick someone out and let you know.’

Tipton put his head on one side. ‘She wouldn’t know why we were doing it? I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Merry and I’d hate to have to …’ This was said in a tone of genuine regret as if we were debating whether or not to invite Merry to a tea party. His casualness frightened me. I kept thinking I must have misunderstood.

‘I promise she’d have no idea,’ I said and crossed my heart.

‘Good-ho,’ said Tipton. ‘I knew I did the right thing coming to you.’ He unbolted the door and flung it open. ‘Great little chat. I’ll catch up with you later when you’ve got the dirt. Good girl.’

I walked to the door. He didn’t move. I walked head high out into the garden. As soon as I rounded a corner in the path and was out of sight I lifted at my skirts and ran as fast as I could for the house.

Chapter Thirty
Something Wicked This Way Comes

I sprinted past an alarmed Robbins and made straight for my room. Once I was there I locked the door and popped the key down my neckline. Then I threw myself onto the bed and hugged a pillow to my face to muffle my sobs. I had every intention of seeking help, but not until I was once again mistress of my emotions.

Robbins must have reported my disgraceful entry to Merry because it wasn’t long before she was knocking at my door. I let her in. She took in the tears on my face and my tattered dress and drew all the wrong conclusions. I ended up explaining the whole story to her, in I admit less than my usual concise manner, and Merry became immediately practical. Being Royalty I had been given a room with an attached bathing chamber. She ran me a bath full of bubbles, more or less pushed me into it, after helping remove my dress, told me to have a good soak and she would arrange for cakes and tea in my room when I was out.

An hour later I sat down at a little table in my room and Merry poured me tea. She also helped herself to a small, iced cake. She bit into it greedily and icing stuck to her nose. ‘They don’t feed the staff here as well as Mrs Deighton does,’ she said in self-defence.

It suddenly struck me as funny that we were sitting down eating afternoon tea and it was almost time for the dinner dressing gong. What’s more, I was pretending to be a housekeeper pretending to be a minor foreign Royal, when in reality I was an Earl’s granddaughter whose grandfather was about to sit down to dinner on the floor below; he had even sat beside me without knowing who I was. Moreover, the man I suspected of being a killer, and doing away with Mrs Wilson and possibly Miss Wilton too, had just asked me to help him find a pasty for the girl he wanted to marry, who he was sure had killed her stepmother. It was all too ridiculous. I laughed so hard tears ran down my cheeks. I doubled up with laughter, only pausing to draw breath before I went into whoops again. Before I had only read of going into whoops, but now I was actually doing it.

The door flew open. Richenda stormed in. ‘What the hell is that noise?’

Merry jumped to her feet, thrusting the remains of the cake behind her back. The sight of Richenda, nostrils flaring and looking more like a warhorse than ever, was too much. I fell off my seat.

‘Cor blimey, she’s lost it,’ said Suzette, peering over Richenda’s shoulder. ‘I told the mistress she was an odd one, but it’s all been too much for the little blighter.’

The sight of Suzette’s pinched face, she looked as if she had been crudely made out of not enough clay, sobered me dramatically. I sat up, wiped away my tears with the back of my hands. ‘You!’ I said, ‘Your face. I remember that look. You looked … you looked,’ but the memory wouldn’t come back fully.

‘Very sad, milady,’ said Suzette. ‘I’m sure her maid can contain her. It’s time for me to dress you for dinner.’

Richenda gave me a pitying look. ‘Don’t let her come down tonight, Merry. I’ll say she is indisposed.’

I stood up, drawing my dressing gown around me in what I hoped was a regal manner, and said, ‘It is not your place to order me around, Richenda.’

‘How dare you?’ screamed Richenda. ‘How dare you address me like this!’

‘Not two hours ago I was with your beloved in the summer house,’ I said suddenly calm as ice, ‘and he told me that you murdered Lady Stapleford.’

BOOK: A Death in the Wedding Party
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