Page 18 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
“Then we shall eat them in the pantry,” Eudora decided, ushering the girl inside and closing the door behind them.
They seated themselves precariously on the woven sacks of potatoes which lined one wall of the large, cool room. Eudora offered Flora the plate first, then took a pastry for herself. She allowed herself a moment to savour its sweetness - the investigation into Lord Albermay’s murder was not so urgent that she didn’t have time to appreciate a good cake - before she spoke.
“Delicious,” she declared, as she wiped some stray crumbs from her lap.
“Heavenly,” Flora sighed, her pretty face a picture of happiness. “I’m glad they won’t go to waste; they were prepared for her ladyship’s afternoon tea, but it was cancelled, given what happened to Lord Albermay. Wasn’t it dreadful?”
“Yes, dreadful,” Eudora agreed, glad that Flora had brought the subject up herself. “Perhaps you might help me with a matter relating to the murder? A plate was found by Lord Albermay’s bedside, which means he called for food at some stage during the night. If we knew what time he called for it, we might have a better idea of what time the murderer struck.”
Eudora exhaled as she finished, then waited for Flora to answer her. She had expected the maid to offer to find out, but to Eudora’s surprise, she knew immediately.
“He called for food at about ten o’clock,” Flora replied cheerfully, “I was alone in the stillroom, preparing a mint tincture for indigestion when the footman came down to fetch him a plate.”
The stillroom was just one of the large rooms adjoining the main kitchen. It was used for preparing wine, beers, and an assortment of medicinal potions and tinctures. Flora had learned the secrets of the stillroom from her grandmother, who had, for decades, offered herbal remedies to the villagers of Plumpton who could not afford the services of the druggist in nearby Cirencester.
Eudora was so pleased to have so easily found the answer that, for a moment, she forgot to thank Flora.
“That’s very helpful,” she said, smiling at Flora. She hesitated as she thought of the knife which had been used to kill Lord Albermay - a kitchen one - was it possible that Flora might also be able to furnish her with clues on that?
“Er, did anyone else call into the kitchen last night?” Eudora ventured.
To her surprise, Flora chuckled as she nodded “yes”.
“Who?” Eudora pressed, barely able to believe her luck.
“Half the guests did!” Flora answered, with a smile, “Lady Albermay came in search of a tincture to help her sleep, then Mr Wellesely required some bread to soak up all the brandy he’d imbibed. The handsome captain asked for some warm milk, then Lord Percival asked for something for his gout, so I gave him a glass of heated Penny-wort.”
“Is that everyone?” Eudora queried despondently - all their main suspects had visited the kitchens; any of them might have filched a knife while there.
“Your mama came in search of a drop of medicinal wine, though she took half a bottle,” Flora finished, smiling a little, “Mr Lowell required a pitcher of water, for the footman had forgotten to fill his for the evening—such a kind man, he offered me a penny for my troubles. Finally, Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling arrived for a snoop.”
“Did they say they’d just come to poke about?” Eudora asked, surprised at their audacity.
“No, I assumed it,” Flora laughed, “They said they were looking for their bedchamber - but I knew they’d only been shown to it a few minutes before.”
Eudora discreetly rolled her eyes at the pair’s brazenness; still, despite how irritating they were, she did not think that they’d stolen the knife used to kill Lord Albermay.
“Thank you for your help, Flora,” she said as she rose to a stand, “It was most illuminating.”
“Any time, Miss Mifford,” the scullery maid replied, as she too rose and followed Eudora from the pantry, “You wouldn’t believe the things I see as I go about my work...”
This comment was accompanied by a dark look, thrown in the direction of the buxom Mable.
For a moment, Eudora longed to press Flora on what was clearly a tasty morsel of below-stairs gossip, but her mind was already a muddle. Each one of the suspects had visited the kitchens last night, meaning that any of them might have swiped a knife whilst they were there—she did not have time to deal with servants’ scandals!
A feeling of hopelessness washed over her as she realised that she was no closer than before to discovering who had killed Lord Albermay until she recalled that Flora had named the time that Lord Albermay had last been seen alive.
It wasn’t much, but it was something, she decided, willing herself to feel some optimism.
From the kitchen, she made her way to the grand entrance hall, where she bumped into Jane. Her elder sister’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she noted the direction from which Eudora had appeared.
“Sneaking pastries in the kitchen?” Jane queried, “Or pressing the staff for clues?”
Despite being guilty of both crimes, Eudora feigned grave insult.
“Honestly,” she huffed, “Just because I am the youngest and the only unmarried sister, it does not mean that I can be questioned merely for taking a walk. I don’t know if you have noticed, Jane, but there’s four feet of snow outside, and we’re all stuck here with nothing to do.”
Jane’s expression softened, causing Eudora to feel a stab of guilt. Jane was the sister least likely to throw her weight around because she was older - that particular crown went to Mary - and it wasn’t fair for Eudora to have accused her of doing so.
