Page 53 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
“Mr Allen reckons I will be able to set off after breakfast.”
Mr Lowell sat a little to Eudora’s right and spoke across the table to the captain.
“You won’t get far in a carriage,” Captain Ledger advised, his gaze moving to the windows though it was too dark to see the snow-covered ground outside.
“Lord Crabb has been kind enough to offer me the lend of one of his mounts,” Mr Lowell replied. “I have urgent business in Plymouth to attend to. I will fetch the carriage when I return the horse.”
“I’ve half a mind to join you on your travels,” the captain answered wistfully, “It feels years since I last glimpsed the sea.”
Eudora did not have a chance to hear Mr Lowell’s reply, for her attention was caught by the entrance of Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling. Beside her, Lord Delaney gave a sharp intake of breath, indicating that he, too, had noted their arrival.
“Pay them no heed,” he whispered.
The old adage ‘easier said than done’ sprang to mind as the pair took a seat perilously close to Mrs Mifford. Eudora couldnot even imagine the hell that would break loose if her mother was informed of her engagement by her greatest enemy.
Thankfully, Mrs Canards did not appear at all inclined to engage Mrs Mifford in conversation and instead focused on her plate wearing an expression of great suffering. Mrs Wickling followed suit, her own face marred by a frown of displeasure.
Eudora said a silent prayer that Mrs Canards’ bitterness would hold out for all three courses and prevent her from congratulating Mrs Mifford on the happy news.
“She won’t say a word,” Robert whispered, his gaze following her own to the unhappy pair, “People like Mrs Canards only revel in bad news, not good.”
“True, my lord,” Eudora agreed, somewhat relieved to have her suspicions echoed back to her.
Once the last guests had trickled in, the footmen set about serving the first course with lightning speed. They were, Eudora guessed, as delighted as the guests that the party was finally nearing its end.
The atmosphere at the table was one of great joviality. Lord Albermay was in high spirits, even offering to accompany Mr Lowell on his journey the following day.
“You can leave me at the nearest tavern,” he chortled, “So long as you leave me anywhere that isn’t here.”
Eudora caught Lady Albermay’s eye, and the viscountess smiled, which seemed to say she, too, supported the idea of her stepson departing at daybreak.
Eudora attempted a smile in return, but it pained her. It felt duplicitous of her to smile at the viscountess when she knew that soon Ivo would be accusing her of murder.
As soon as the third course was finished and the plates whisked away by the servants, Jane stood up to speak.
“As our gathering will begin to break up tomorrow, might I suggest that the men forgo their brandies and join the ladies in the drawing room for tea?”
“You might suggest, but some might refuse,” Lord Albermay guffawed in response.
As no one was particularly upset to lose his company, the viscount was quickly ushered off to the library alone while the rest of the guests filed into the drawing room.
“Do you know,” Cecilia declared, once all the guests were seated and the tea poured, “Despite not one—but two!—murders, I’ve really enjoyed my time here. To our host and hostess for keeping us so well.”
Cecilia lifted her china cup in salute to Jane and Ivo, and the other guests followed suit.
“I have it on good authority that the second murder was nothing more than tomfoolery,” Ivo clarified quickly.
Cecilia’s face fell a little at this news, disappointed perhaps that her time had been spent at a party that was now only half as scandalous.
Another person appeared stricken to learn that Mable had not been killed by a serial murderer—Lady Albermay.
Eudora watched discreetly as the viscountess turned pale, her eyes nervously seeking out Captain Ledger. They shared a glance that could only be described as worried until Lady Albermay turned her face away.
Eudora’s stomach clenched with anxiety; the hope that Lady Albermay might be innocent slipped further and further away with every second that passed.
“Has Mable been found?” From her spot in the corner, Charlotte piped up, “Or are you putting your neck out on a limb by guessing that her disappearance was not as bloody an event as it first appeared?”
Despite the gravity of the question, Eudora had to stifle a laugh at the look of pure confusion that crossed the dowager duchess’ face as she tried to decipher the meaning of Charlotte’s words.
