Page 10 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
“So he went straight from one to the other. Charming.”
“Lady Kershaw’s maid rolled her eyes when she told me. I got the impression she thought the previous girl was pathetic, or perhaps stupid for letting her feelings for Shepherd ruin a perfectly good position here.”
“You sound as though you do, too.”
Harmony gave it some thought before answering. “Not pathetic, but I do think she shouldn’t have become so upset when he moved on to another. Lady Kershaw’s maid says she warns all the new girls about him, but some just don’t listen. They only have themselves to blame when he tires of them, if you ask me.”
“He’s a cad. Orwas. It’s not the fault of the girls for being naïve. Some are quite young, and not as worldly as you or I.”
To my surprise, Harmony chuckled. “You’re not worldly, Cleo. You’re wise and sensible, but that’s not the same thing.”
I supposed she was right. I’d always lived a comfortable life, protected by people who loved me, although I was cautious by nature when it came to trusting strangers, something that saved me from men like Shepherd. An innocent country girl who’d been thrust into the world too soon might not have any defenses against charming rogues.
“I may not be worldly,” I said, “but I wouldn’t fall for Shepherd any more than you would.”
“That we can agree on.” Harmony wiped her hand down my skirt. “You’re covered in dust.”
“Shepherd didn’t like doing housework.”
I continued to look around the rather bare bedroom, but found nothing that pointed to a reason why he would have been killed.
We left the cottage and locked the door. Before returning to the house, we walked around the perimeter of the building. We’d found no sign that he kept guns on the premises, or evidence of secrets buried beneath mounds of earth that had been recently turned over.
“What now?” Harmony asked as we headed back through the woods to the main house.
We emerged onto the driveway where the long shadows cast by the trees lining it hinted at the lateness of the hour. “The ladies will be back soon. I have to change for afternoon tea. Then we both need to talk to as many witnesses as possible, as subtly as possible. We leave tomorrow morning, so this could be our last opportunity to find the killer.”
“You could ask to extend your stay. I’m sure Lady Kershaw wouldn’t mind. She seems to like you.”
“I’d rather return to London.”
She smiled silkily.
“Why are you smiling like that? Never mind. I don’t want to know.” I lengthened my strides.
Harmony easily caught up. “I think you want to return to London as soon as possible because you miss a certain tall, dark and handsome private detective.”
“I don’t miss Harry. I miss London. It’s galleries and museums, the parks, my friends and the hotel. Anyway, I’m not the only one who wants to return. I believeyouwant to return because you miss a certain cook.”
“I do miss Victor and, yes, I would like to see him.” Her ready agreement rather took the wind out of my sails. She couldn’t be teased. “Just like I knowyoumiss Harry. The sooner you admit you like him, the happier you’ll be, Cleo.”
We parted ways so that she could enter the house via the service entrance while I went through the front door. Her words left me reeling. Was I unhappy? I didn’t think so. Not when I was in London, anyway. But I hadn’t been completely happy here in Berkshire. Despite all the distractions the country house party had to offer, I’d felt somewhat lackluster since leaving London. I was mature enough to admit that it was because Harry wasn’t here, too.
Tomorrow, I could see him again. The question was, should I?
Chapter3
As an only child, I’d been spared the teasing and competitiveness of siblings, but I’d also missed out on the special bond unique to brothers and sisters. Moving into the same building with my two cousins as adults had been a little like having siblings, although I could never attain the deep understanding Floyd and Flossy shared. It placed our relationship into a different category altogether. I was neither sibling nor friend, yet they respected me more than they respected each other, and when they teased me it lacked the bitterness that edged their own interactions.
Floyd still found it necessary to treat me as if I needed protecting, however. I put that down to his upbringing, in a family where men ruled and women were raised to be decorative. It was quite different to how I was brought up. Different, too, to how Harry was raised, first by an independent mother who worked as a teacher at an all-girls school, and then by a couple who were a team of equals. Based on what I’d observed, the behaviors of adults laid the foundations for the lifelong values of the children they raised.
Floyd’s protectiveness came to the fore when I asked him if he’d seen anyone return a rifle to the armory. He flatly refused to answer the question. “The police know who fired the fatal shot, so you can stop investigating, Cleo.” He strode along the corridor toward his room.
I picked up my skirts and followed. “Who is it?”
“A poacher. Apparently, you saw him arguing with Shepherd in the woods.”
“I never saw that man’s face, and there was no indication he was a poacher. Besides, the police haven’t spoken to me directly. How can they arrest someone based on a complete lack of evidence?”
