There was a loud click. I awoke instantly. It took me a moment to work out that it had been the sound of a bedroom door closing somewhere. I heard the creak of a floorboard outside the door as someone made their way carefully along the passage.
I tried to get up to investigate, but the pain in my head persuaded me not to be so stupid. There were all sorts of reasons for someone to be wandering about the passages of a country house in the middle of the night – few of them wicked, but some of them decidedly naughty. I had no idea of the time, but it was pitch dark. I decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and drifted back off to sleep.
I dreamed that it happened twice more.
When I woke again, there was sunlight streaming in through the curtains and a gentle knocking on the bedroom door.
‘Enter,’ I croaked imperiously.
The door opened to reveal Betty bearing a breakfast tray. ‘Hark at you and your airs and graces,’ she said. ‘One night in the toffs’ rooms, and suddenly you’re the Queen of the May.’
‘I was born to it,’ I said as I sat upright.
‘That’s a lovely lump on your nut,’ she said as she set the tray down. ‘The story is that your mistress was trying to teach Lady Lavinia her tennis backhand and she caught you on the bonce.’
I laughed. ‘As always, the story is better than the truth. Thank you for bringing this up, though. It’s a rare treat.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’
‘Shouldn’t you be seeing to Mrs Beddows, though?’
‘Ordinarily,’ she said. ‘But she sent me away with a flea in my ear this morning. She wanted a lie-in.’
She sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Well, she did have a hectic day of being soundly thrashed at tennis,’ I suggested.
‘She barely broke a sweat. I reckon it was more likely her night manoeuvres.’ She pinched a slice of toast from my plate.
‘Mrs Beddows? Surely not. Who with?’
‘I’ve said too much already,’ she mumbled, her mouth still full of toast. ‘I really shouldn’t be gossiping.’
‘Betty Buffrey, you’re a wicked tease.’
Lady Hardcastle breezed in.
‘Good morning, O bruisèd one,’ she said. ‘Oh, and good morning to you, Miss Buffrey. No, please don’t get up. I just need to collect a few things. Do you know where my . . . actually, where anything is? I need suggestions for a morning outfit.’
I shooed Betty out of the way, and tried to clamber out of bed. I stumbled again as I became entangled in the voluminous nightgown I was wearing.
‘What on earth?’ I said.
‘It’s one of mine,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘We thought you ought to have something in case you needed to get up in the night. I must say I’ve always thought of myself as “statuesque” at worst. But seeing that on you, I rather feel like some manner of galumphing giantess. It looks like a marquee.’
‘Nonsense, my lady,’ I said as I untwined myself from the folds of cotton. ‘It just needs taking in a bit round the . . . well, all over, really. But it was a kind thought.’
‘You have things to do,’ said Betty. ‘I’d better be on my way. I’m sorry for intruding, my lady.’
‘Nonsense, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Thank you for looking after Armstrong for me.’
Betty curtseyed and left the room.
There was nothing wrong with me apart from a slight headache that throbbed a little if I bent down, so I was able to help Lady Hardcastle get ready without too much trouble.
‘What happened to my own clothes?’ I said as I put the finishing touches to her hair. ‘I dimly recall their being soaked.’
She looked around. ‘Over there on the chair?’ she suggested.
I looked and, sure enough, my clothes were folded over the back of the chair, clean, dry, and neatly pressed.
‘How the Dickens?’ I said.
‘It’s always baffled me,’ she said. ‘When I was a girl, I always believed elves did it.’
I raised my eyebrows, and instantly regretted it as the pain in my forehead intensified. ‘More likely to be the girls in the laundry,’ I said.
‘Much more likely,’ she said. ‘Will you be fit to accompany me today? There’s nothing planned, and the day has the potential to be frightfully dull without you.’
‘With all your new friends to keep you entertained, my lady?’ I said. ‘Surely not.’
‘I should love to go along with the jape and tease you a little, but the truth is that there’s hardly anyone about. Fishy has gone off somewhere with Monty. Jake and Helen are giggling together, while Harry looks on like a lovesick puppy. Viktor and Roz haven’t surfaced yet. I’m all on my own.’
‘Herr Kovacs and Mrs Beddows aren’t up yet?’ I said. ‘Betty mentioned that Mrs Beddows was having a lie-in. She suggested she was worn out from “night manoeuvres”.’
‘With Viktor? Oh, I say, that would be too, too funny.’
‘And a trifle unlikely,’ I said.
‘Why? Oh, they’re simply made for each other. Peas in a pod.’
The threat of renewed unpleasantness from the bruise on my forehead dissuaded me from raising my eyebrows disapprovingly. I ‘hmm’-ed instead.
She laughed. ‘Come on, then, lazy-bones,’ she said. ‘Get yourself dressed, and we can take the air.’
‘I take it you heard Jake talking about Harry,’ said Lady Hardcastle as we took a turn around the grounds.
‘That was what caused my tragic downfall,’ I said. ‘I was trying to get the plug out so that the bath wouldn’t overflow.’
‘Why not just turn off the taps?’
‘You’d told her it was safe to talk because the sound of the water would cover your conversation. If the water stopped, then so would she.’
She laughed. ‘Instead, you stopped her rather effectively in your own uniquely violent way.’
‘And I have the lump to prove it. What do you think, though?’
‘About the lump? It’s very fetching.’
‘No, my lady, about Lady Lavinia and Harry.’
‘Ah, of course. Sorry. I think it’s splendid. Poor Harry had a couple of ill-fated love affairs in his twenties, and then threw himself into his work. He’s risen through the Foreign Office ranks, but he’s lonely. And Jake’s a sweetheart. It takes a genuine poppet to ask a chap’s sister for permission.’
‘Which you graciously gave.’
‘Not strictly mine to give, old thing, but yes. After we’d left you to your slumbers, I told her it was actually a matter entirely between the two of them, and wished her the best of British.’
‘So you won’t tease him about it?’
‘Heavens, Flo, what do you take me for? I shall tease him mercilessly. What manner of sister would I be if I didn’t chaff him?’
We rounded a corner and found Lady Lavinia sitting on her favourite stone bench with Miss Titmus. Harry was approaching from the opposite direction at a fair rate of knots. Lady Hardcastle increased her own speed in an effort to reach the ladies before he did.
‘What ho, you two,’ she said jovially. ‘What a glorious day.’
‘We were just saying the same thing,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘How are you, Armstrong? Lady Lavinia was just telling me about your mishap.’
‘I’ve had worse, madam,’ I said.