‘Gracious. Remind me never to ask you for a character reference.’
‘“Emily, Lady Hardcastle, is a bossy, overbearing, yet flippant woman with a fine mind, a remarkable education, a breathtaking talent for music and drawing, and absolutely no common sense, nor any sense of self preservation, whatsoever. Without me to look after her she would have long since starved to death, been strangled by her own corsets (the fitting of which continues to baffle her, despite her advanced years), or have been set upon by thugs, footpads and garotters as she made her giddy way about town.” Will that suffice, my lady?’
‘You’re a cheeky wench and I shall have the carpet beater to your backside,’ she laughed. ‘And what of Joe the Publican?’
‘Mr Joe Arnold,’ I continued in the same style, ‘is a charming and toothless old soul of indeterminate years. He’s honest, hardworking and rather too fond of the locally brewed cider which is the preferred tipple in these parts. He likes to avoid arguments when he can and is slightly intimidated by women, most especially Miss Daisy. I suspect there’s a Mrs Arnold waiting upstairs of whom he is inordinately fond and profoundly afraid. He seems to have a keen sense of justice and, like Daisy, is steadfast in his belief that Bill Lovell is not the murderer.’
‘No, indeed, they both seem to favour this Arthur Tressle fellow.’
‘They do, and I’ll allow that the case against him is stronger than against Bill Lovell. But I can’t quite shake the feeling that they’re charging in as blindly as Inspector Sunderland. They don’t want it to be Lovell so they’re pointing the finger at the next person they can think of. But there doesn’t seem to be any proof for either of them beyond a bit of shouting.’
‘I say, you do seem to have picked up something of the scientific method, my girl. My giddiness hasn’t prevented me from passing that on, at least.’
I curtseyed and she smiled a wicked smile.
‘That handcart,’ she went on, ‘seems to be just the sort of thing to have made those tracks in the clearing. And the cricket lads seem like just the sort of fellows to have pinched it for a lark.’
‘I’d not be out on the street proclaiming their innocence if they were banged up for that, my lady. But pinching a handcart and doing a chap to death are two completely different matters. Joe and Daisy don’t seem to have linked any of the goings-on to the handcart, though. I just got the feeling Joe was aggrieved that it had gone briefly missing.’
‘Then we shall have to see what proofs we can come upon.’
‘Even if that means proving it was Bill Lovell all along, my lady?’
‘Even so. I’m more than happy for a guilty man to hang, but as yet I remain as unconvinced as Constable Hancock that Bill Lovell is guilty of anything more than being humiliated by that strumpet Daisy.’
‘Did the constable have any more news?’
‘Not really. We talked about the events of that night in the pub as he understands them. I came to much the same conclusion as you did about Daisy; she’s well known around the village for being something of a flirt. I expect she thought she might be able to paint herself in a more flattering light to a newcomer. She just hadn’t reckoned on meeting such a shrewd newcomer.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I confirmed my initial impression that Constable Hancock is an absolute poppet.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’
‘Like a big, eager puppy.’
‘You could keep him in a kennel in the garden and he could guard the cottage for us. Maybe that would make you take security seriously.’
‘I’ll keep you in a kennel in the garden, my girl. But I had a delightful little chat with the good constable; he’s been quite diligent in his researches.’
‘Anything more of our victim? Any rivals? Any other romantic entanglements?’
‘I say, Flo, you’re rather getting into the swing of this, aren’t you. No, sadly, despite his heroic efforts he knows nothing more.’
‘We’re really not very good at this, are we, my lady.’
‘We have to be, Flo, we have to be. But let’s leave it for now. I confess I’m not really in the mood for dinner. Would you be a dear and make some sandwiches?’
I made the sandwiches and we ate them together in the drawing room, reading until bedtime.
On Wednesday it rained; a beautiful summer downpour that made me thankful I’d had time for the laundry on the previous day and saw me instead rearranging the freshly stocked pantry. Thanks to the mischievous whim of whatever malevolent gods are responsible for the security of bags of flour, one had split just as I was transferring its contents to my flour jar and I was covered in the stuff when the doorbell rang. Wiping my hands on my pinafore and trying to brush the worst of the mess away, I went through to open the door to find a man in overalls and cap.
‘Begging your pardon, miss. Is this the right house for...’ he said, consulting the scrap of paper in his hand, ‘Lady Hardcastle?’
‘It is,’ I replied.
‘Bloomin’ ’eck – begging your pardon, miss – but you’re hard to find. We’ve got a delivery for you.’
‘A delivery of what?’
‘A piano and a blackboard, miss. You starting a school?’
‘Starting a school?’ I said, incredulously. ‘Why on earth... We’re expecting a piano, but–’
‘It’s all right, Armstrong, it’s for me.’ Lady Hardcastle had appeared silently behind me. ‘Bring them in, would you. I want the piano against the back wall in the drawing room and the blackboard by the fireplace in the dining room. Would you care for some tea? And there’s cake. I should expect delivering things is quite thirsty work.’
‘Tea would be most welcome, madam, yes. Thank you. I’ll get my lad to start shifting a few things in here if you don’t mind – give us a bit more room to get the piano in.’
I looked outside and parked in the lane was a large wagon, pulled by quite the most enormous horse. A young boy of about fourteen sat on the wagon’s driving seat, and on the bed of the wagon, covered by an oiled tarpaulin, was – I presumed – Lady Hardcastle’s new piano.
I went back to the kitchen and set about making tea while the delivery man and his “lad” began shifting furniture in the drawing room to make way for the new upright piano. Lady Hardcastle joined me. ‘I’m so glad it’s here. I’ve been missing having a piano in the house terribly.’