“Looks like you’ll be going home in a Jeep,” Polly said, as Sadie gestured at them.
“Oh, help.” Tess sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s better than walking all that way. These shoes have such high heels I’d have blisters all over my feet by the time I got there.”
Sadie came back to the table, dragging a shy-looking soldier with close-cropped red hair and worried eyes. “Here,” Sadie announced, “this is Joe. He’s a good friend of mine. He’ll give us a lift to the Manor House.”
Joe stared anxiously at Tess. “It’s not a very comfortable ride, ma’am, I-”
“Oh, stop worrying, Joe!” Sadie gave his arm a little shake. “It’ll be a lark. I can throw me bicycle in the back. You can give Polly a lift, too.” She winked at Polly. “That’s if you’re ready to go home?”
“More than ready.” Polly got to her feet. “I’ve got me bicycle with me, though.”
“There won’t be room for all of you as well as two bikes,” Joe protested.
“It’s all right.” Polly picked up her handbag and shoved it under her arm. “I’d rather ride, anyway.” She left before Sadie could talk her out of it. The truth was, it hurt to see Sadie so happy with her boyfriend. Polly tried not to let it bother her, but seeing them together only reminded her of when she was happy too, with Sam. She would never be happy like that again.
To Elizabeth’s dismay, it was Violet who answered her summons on the bell rope. As the huge front door swung open, she bounced inside, asking breathlessly, “Is Martin all right? He’s not ill, is he?”
Violet clicked her tongue. “Calm down, Lizzie. You’ll give yourself a heart attack with all your worrying. Martin is in bed, sleeping off the glass of scrumpy he managed to gulp down when I wasn’t looking. Went straight to his head, it did, silly old goat. I warned him not to touch it. The Winterhalters were nice enough to bring us home in their motorcar. Really posh it is. The sort of motorcar you should have, Lizzie, instead of that noisy, smelly old motorbike. Your father would turn in his grave if he saw you riding that around the village, I’m sure. Not at all what a lady should be riding, that’s for certain.”
Elizabeth followed her down to the kitchen, paying scant attention to her housekeeper’s prattling. Settling herself at the kitchen table, she watched Violet fill the kettle with cold water. “What about the Winterhalters? Are they here? I didn’t see the motorcar when I came in.”
“Desmond put it in the stables for them. Can’t leave a nice motorcar like that out all night. They’re in the library. I took up a bottle of that good Scotch your major brought over. I thought that nice Mr. Winterhalter was going to kiss me, he was so pleased. Can’t get good Scotch for love nor money nowadays, he told me.”
Deciding she couldn’t put it off any longer, Elizabeth said carefully, “Well, you all missed a good deal of excitement at the wedding.”
Violet set the kettle on the stove and lit the gas under it. “Don’t tell me. Rita Crumm drank too much scrumpy and did a striptease on the tables.”
Surprised her housekeeper even knew about such things, Elizabeth almost laughed. “No,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s a lot more serious than that. Bessie found a dead body in the cellar.”
Violet spun around, one hand over her mouth. “Go on! Who was it?”
“Well, no one seems to know. Apparently he wasn’t invited to the wedding, though one of the guests thought Tess might be acquainted with him.” She glanced up at the clock. “In fact, I think I’ll pop upstairs and have a word with the Winterhalters before George gets here. I want to warn them. It’s quite possible they might know the gentleman.”
“What happened to him?” Violet asked, as Elizabeth headed for the door.
“Someone stabbed him in the chest with the missing knife that was supposed to cut the wedding cake.”
“Oh, my. I imagine Rita was put out about that.”
“She wasn’t too pleased, to say the least.” Elizabeth paused at the door. “When George arrives, see if you can keep him busy down here until I get back.”
Without waiting for her housekeeper to answer, she let the door close behind her and headed for the stairs.
She found Rodney and Daphne seated in the library, each immersed in a book. They had both changed out of their wedding finery-Rodney now in a dark red velvet smoking jacket and Daphne wearing a fetching housecoat covered in pink and white embroidery.
They looked up as she entered, and Rodney immediately sprang to his feet.
“Oh, there you are, Lady Elizabeth!” he exclaimed, his voice overly loud and jovial. “Our apologies for leaving the festivities so abruptly. The little woman had a headache, didn’t you, precious.”
Daphne gave him a nervous smile. “Did I? Yes, of course. I did.”
The infuriated look he gave her made Elizabeth uncomfortable. Obviously, the Winterhalters were having some kind of disagreement. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” she said, coming straight to the point. “It concerns a gentleman guest at the wedding. A rather tall chap wearing a dark gray suit and light blue silk tie. Was he a friend of yours?”
Daphne stared blankly at her, while Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “If you are referring to Brian Sutcliffe, he’s nothing but a two-timing fortune hunter. He barged into the wedding uninvited and made a general nuisance of himself. The man is a rake of the worst kind.”
“Rodney is absolutely right,” Daphne agreed fervently. “The man is a cheat and a liar. I can’t imagine what my daughter sees in that charlatan.”
“In that case,” Elizabeth said quietly, “I imagine neither of you will be too upset to hear that someone killed him this afternoon.”
Rodney Winterhalter met her gaze without so much as a blink. “Is that so.”
Somewhat taken aback by his indifference, Elizabeth was lost for words.
Then, in the silence that followed, Daphne gasped, then whispered fearfully, “My God, Rodney. What have you done?”
Elizabeth watched Rodney’s face as he stared at his wife, his eyes burning with fury. “What the devil are you talking about, Daphne? I didn’t stick a knife in the blasted chap, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Daphne looked as if she didn’t believe him, and Elizabeth said hastily, “I think I should warn you that police constable Dalrymple is on his way up here to question Tess. By all accounts, she was one of the last people to see the gentleman alive.”
A worried expression clouded Daphne’s face. “Oh, dear. I do hope-” She broke off, and stared helplessly at her husband.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rodney snapped. He turned to Elizabeth. “I’m quite sure my daughter has nothing to do with this. Unfortunately she was quite infatuated with the rotter.”
“I don’t-” Daphne was interrupted by the sound of a sharp tap on the door.
At Elizabeth’s command to enter, the door opened and Sadie poked her head into the space. “Pardon me, your ladyship,” she said, flicking a glance at the Winterhalters, “but Violet said to tell you P. C. Dalrymple is in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Sadie.”
The girl nodded and started to withdraw her head when Rodney asked sharply, “Did Tess come home with you?”
Sadie opened the door wider. “Yes, sir. My friend gave her a ride home in his Jeep a while ago.”
Daphne rolled her eyes in horror, but Rodney merely nodded. “Be so kind as to tell her I wish to speak to her. Now.”
“Yes, sir, but I think she’s gone to bed.”
“Then get her out of bed,” Rodney ordered harshly. “I want to speak to her before the constable gets to her.”
Sadie’s eyebrows rose and her eyes widened as she looked at Elizabeth.
“It’s all right, Sadie,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Do as Mr. Winterhalter asks at once.”