‘Gracious! You have? That looks bad enough as it is. You’ve really had worse?’
‘Don’t get her started, Helen, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘You’ll be stuck there all day listening to tales of danger, derring-do, and disaster. Meanwhile, I’ll be left feeling terribly guilty because most of her wounds and injuries were sustained while protecting me when I’d foolishly overreached myself.’
Harry had caught us up by now and was hovering in the background, clearly eager to interrupt, but uncertain about doing so.
‘Oh, do stop dithering, Harry, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Either come over or sling your hook.’
‘Good morning, ladies,’ said Harry as he joined the growing group. ‘Good morning, Strong Arm.’
‘Good morning, Mr Feather-Stone-Huff,’ I said with a curtsey.
‘That’s quite a bump you’ve got there,’ he said as he peered closely at my aching forehead. ‘Rumour has it that our Emily clouted you with an ornamental doo-dah. Something to do with finally growing weary of your infernal cheek.’
‘It was bound to happen sooner or later, sir,’ I said. ‘Usually, she doesn’t leave marks.’
‘Oh, Flo, you absolute beast,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Take no notice, ladies. Harry, I blame you for encouraging her.’
I grinned unapologetically while the ladies laughed.
‘Now, Helen,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘I wonder if I might have a word or two in private. Away from my brother’s flapping lugholes.’
‘Oh,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘Why, of course. Do excuse me, Jake, Harry. It seems my attention is required elsewhere.’
She stood, and the three of us strolled away, leaving Harry and Lady Lavinia on their own.
‘Heavens, Emily,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘Whatever’s the matter? Have I done something terrible?’
‘No, you goose,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘I just wanted to leave the two lovebirds alone. Harry’s a dear, sweet boy, and quite a whizz at the Foreign Office, but in matters of the heart he’s as hesitant and useless as a . . . as a . . . Help me out, Flo. As hesitant and useless as . . . ?’
‘You’re on your own, my lady,’ I said. ‘If you’re going to set off on these reckless similes without any idea of how to complete the journey, you’ve only yourself to blame.’
‘Harrumph,’ she said. ‘You see what I have to put up with, Helen, dear? I think you’re better off without a lady’s maid. They’re nothing but trouble.’
‘I couldn’t disagree more,’ said Mrs Titmus. ‘I shall be placing an advertisement for a companion as soon as I get back to London.’
‘Good for you. I should warn you, though, that Flo here is a unique treasure. You’ll not find her like in even the finest agencies in London.’
‘I very much get that feeling,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘Changing the subject: how are your investigations coming along?’
‘Not so well, I’m afraid. We strongly suspect that Mr Kovacs might have had something to do with it, but it’s just supposition – we’ve no proof. I’m beginning to think there might be a touch of xenophobia mixed in with it as well. We’ve had more than our fair share of run-ins with the fine folk of Austria-Hungary over the years, and I fear I might have taken against them as a nation.’
‘I’ve never trusted the Belgians myself,’ said Helen absently. ‘Not quite French, not quite Dutch. They make delicious chocolate, mind you.’
‘At least they’ll be on our side if things cut up rough. Them and the French.’
‘Are things likely to cut up rough, do you think?’
‘It’s only a matter of time, I feel. The German Empire seems to be spoiling for a fight.’
‘I do feel like such a duffer sometimes,’ said Miss Titmus sadly. ‘I make no effort to keep up with international affairs.’
‘I can’t honestly say I feel like a better person for knowing,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘It’s just a habit from a past life. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in the philosophies of the politicians and diplomats. I’d as soon keep up to date with developments in science and the cinematic arts. Much more relevant, if you ask me.’
‘I don’t even do that. Well, I suppose I’m au fait with the world of photography.’
‘Specialization is the modern way, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Expertise. That’s the key . . . Oh, I say, how did we end up here?’
Our aimless wandering had led us into the kitchen garden. I waved to Patty who was, once again, carefully harvesting herbs for Mrs Ruddle.
‘Let’s cut through the stable yard and make our way to the front of the house,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘I’ve not really seen that side of the estate.’
We did as she suggested, using the arched doorway in the corner of the walled garden. Morgan Coleman, the mechanic, was already there. He was unlocking the large coach house doors.
‘Good morning, Morgan,’ said Lady Hardcastle brightly. ‘Time to give the thoroughbreds a run out?’
He laughed indulgently. ‘Something like that, m’lady,’ he said. ‘His lordship has an idea for some adjustments to the carburettor on the number two car. Thought I’d make a start before it becomes “urgent”, like.’
‘Good plan,’ she said. ‘He’s lucky to have you on his staff.’
‘Thank you, m’lady,’ he grunted as he heaved the first of the enormous doors open. He walked back to do the same with the other door, but something caught his eye. ‘What the devil?’ he said. He made his way cautiously inside the coach house.
Intrigued, we stopped to watch.
‘Lady Hardcastle!’ he called. ‘Could you come in here, please?’
Lady Hardcastle and I exchanged puzzled looks. She set off at once. Miss Titmus made to follow her, but something about Morgan’s tone suggested that it might not be something she would want to see. I laid my hand on her arm.
‘I think we should wait here, madam,’ I said. ‘Just in case.’
‘In case what?’ she said. ‘Oh, I see. Very well.’
Lady Hardcastle re-emerged a few moments later.
‘Helen, I need you to go into the house and find Fishy. Tell him I need him in the coach house. Tell him it’s urgent.’
‘But what . . . ?’
‘Now, dear. Go.’
Miss Titmus looked bewildered, but Lady Hardcastle’s tone brooked no disobedience. She left on her appointed mission.
‘Come with me, Flo,’ said Lady Hardcastle, once Miss Titmus had gone. ‘This is a most unpleasant development.’
I followed her back into the coach house. Morgan was crouching at the far corner of one of the motor cars. He was examining something on the floor. As we approached, I was able to see the object of his scrutiny. Lying on the floor, a pool of dark, congealed blood around the remains of his skull, was the body of Viktor Kovacs.
Chapter Twelve
It wasn’t long before we heard two pairs of footsteps in the yard. The door clattered as Lord Riddlethorpe pulled it further open. He was accompanied by Mr Waterford.
‘What’s all the fuss, Emily?’ asked Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘All Helen would say was that it was urgent but she . . .’ He caught sight of the body. He swore.