Page 12 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
“I’ve always been a good shot, even though I came to the sport later in life.”
“Oh?”
“I’d never shot a bird until I married into this family.”
“Remarkable. I suppose it does help to practice from a young age. I presume his lordship is very good.”
Mr. Browning had shoveled a forkful of partridge between the moustache and beard so could only nod in answer.
“Does Mrs. Browning usually join the shooting? And Lady Kershaw?”
He dabbed at his moustache with a napkin, wiping off the gravy stuck to it. “My brother-in-law indulges them, but they didn’t want your cousin and aunt to feel left out this time. They each would have bagged more than Floyd if they’d participated.” He grunted a laugh. “It’s a miracle he didn’t shoot himself in the foot.”
“He hasn’t had much practice. If he did, I’m sure he’d be as excellent a shot as you. He enjoys all sports.”
He glared at Floyd, chatting to Mrs. Browning on the other side of the table. “Seems to me his favorite sport is flirting with the ladies.” He stabbed his fork into the partridge and sawed off a slice with his knife.
At that moment, Mrs. Browning said something to Floyd then pointedly turned away. The look of disdain on her face made her seem even more regal. Floyd suddenly glanced in her husband’s direction, then swallowed heavily.
Mr. Browning grunted again, this time in satisfaction. “Looks like he’s not as good at flirting as I thought.” He forked the partridge into his mouth. Before he swallowed, he turned away from me just as pointedly as his wife had turned away from Floyd.
My gaze connected with Floyd’s across the table. I arched my brows. He merely shrugged, and struck up a conversation with Janet Browning, seated on his other side.
I hoped he wasn’t trying to flirt with the daughter after failing with the mother.
I was about to engage Lord Kershaw in conversation when I noticed Lady Kershaw’s gaze lingering on the mantelpiece. I frowned. Something about the mantel’s decorations was amiss, but it took me a moment to realize the two ornate silver candlesticks that had stood at either end were missing. Their absence left two rather large empty spaces. I tried to think when I’d last seen them. They were there the previous night, I was sure.
I asked Lord Kershaw about the candlesticks.
He glanced at the mantelpiece, then at his wife. “I presume Renton was polishing them and forgot to put them back.”
“That seems careless,” I said.
He tucked into his food. With the mention of Renton, I hoped to draw out Lord Kershaw’s opinion on the butler, but he didn’t nibble at the bait I dangled.
“I’m sorry if our lack of shooting skill stopped your wife and sister from joining your party yesterday,” I said. “I hear they’re quite good shots.”
His lordship glanced past me to his brother-in-law. “They’re probably a little relieved they had an excuse not to participate, to be honest. My wife loathes the sport, and my sister would prefer to gossip. She admires your aunt greatly.”
I doubted that. While they interacted politely enough, it was clear that Aunt Lilian’s true friend was Lady Kershaw. Even though she was closer in age to Mrs. Browning, she seemed to prefer the younger woman’s company.
I decided to ask his lordship about Esmond Shepherd. Although I’d been shut down by Mr. Browning, I hoped Lord Kershaw would indulge me, even if he found my topic of conversation vulgar. “I know it’s not the done thing to bring it up, but I wanted to tell you how dreadfully sorry I am about your gamekeeper.”
Lord Kershaw’s knife and fork stilled before he continued cutting a boiled potato. “Thank you, Miss Fox. That’s kind of you. It’s been a shock. Sergeant Honeyman assures me the poacher has left the area, so you don’t need to worry. The man’s argument was with Shepherd, and Shepherd alone.”
I decided not to poke that particular hive. Lord Kershaw wouldn’t deviate from the official line. Instead, I poured on more sympathy in an attempt to lull him into lowering his defenses. “It’s no wonder Mr. Shepherd’s death has hit you so hard. He’s been with you a long time, I believe.”
“Forever, and his father before him and his grandfather before that. Not that I ever knew his grandfather, mind. I’m notthatold.” He chuckled.
I pretended not to find it odd that he was chuckling after his long-term employee had been killed that very day. “Did he have any family who’ll mourn him?”
“We were his family. The other staff, too.”
“No parents still living? Siblings?”
“His mother died not long ago, but her death was to be expected. She was older than my aunt.” He nodded at Lady Elizabeth. “Mrs. Shepherd was proof that clean country air is good for the constitution.”
“Indeed. What about siblings? Did Mr. Shepherd have any? It’s just that I thought I overheard one of the servants say there was a sister.”
