A Death in the Pavilion by Caroline Dunford Read Free Book Online Page B

extra – er – activities.’
    It took me a moment to catch on. ‘Mistresses, you mean?’ I gasped.
    ‘I’m not a beauty,’ said Richenda staunchly, ‘but I could make him a good wife and I think we would make good companions. With all the chaos that has happened to my family and been caused by my family I think he’s my last shot.’
    She lifted her chin in defiance, but I thought I saw she was blinking back tears. I looked away. ‘Where is that maid with the tea?’ I said.
    Richenda blinked hard. ‘Indeed.’
    ‘Richenda, would you object if I repinned some of your hair? It has come down a little. A lady should always look her best.’
    ‘Thank you, Euphemia.’ It was the first time I felt Richenda was being sincere. Who would have thought that an incident with a pigeon in an attic could lead to me feeling sorry for a woman I had, if not hated, largely despised.
    I had just finished redoing her hair and discreetly wiping away a smut or two when the door opened again to reveal the extraordinary sight of Muller carrying a tea tray. I hurried to take it from him. I have no very great opinion of gentlemen carrying china. By and large they are far too clumsy, not being trained, because of their station, to do the simple things in life. Their hands also tend to be overly large for delicate work.
    ‘Thank you, Euphemia,’ said Muller. ‘Would you mind pouring for us? I know enough of your history to believe, of the two of you, that you are the least disturbed by this incident.’
    I smiled. ‘Shall I take that as compliment?’
    Muller had the sense not to answer, but only smile. I could feel Richenda beginning to bristle at my side. I poured tea for us all and added milk and sugar as necessary. I noted that Muller didn’t know Richenda that well as he had not thought to bring cake or biscuits. Richenda always improves with cake. I was taking my first cup of tea when Muller said, ‘I must confess when I realised it was you two ladies in the attic my first thought was that you were looking for my first wife.’
    Richenda snorted tea down her nose. Muller pretended not to notice. ‘I thought it likely that, in an attempt to get you to return to Stapleford Hall, Barker would spread malicious gossip about me.’
    I felt myself blushing.
    ‘I also thought that as Euphemia is very loyal to you, despite what she may personally think she would feel duty bound to pass on your brother’s message.’
    You see, he really was a charming man. He had skilfully exonerated me from being a gossip.
    ‘Why would we think your wife was in the attic?’ asked Richenda, who was far less capable of playing the diplomat.
    Muller sat back in his seat. He looked into the empty fireplace for a moment before refocusing on us. ‘There were many rumours around the time of my wife’s death. The fact that my father was German and that there is growing ill-will between our two countries has not helped.’
    ‘There is?’ asked Richenda. I said nothing. Fitzroy had told me a number of disturbing rumours in order to enforce my complicity in his schemes. I was only surprised that Muller was so aware. As far as I knew he spent all his time in England.
    ‘I am also new money,’ said Muller. ‘I am a bank director rather than an owner of a bank and while I have invested wisely I am not one of the old school.’
    ‘But you went to the same school as my brother,’ said Richenda.
    ‘He means he is not descended from one of the known English families,’ I explained.
    ‘Neither am I,’ said Richenda. ‘Well, Mama was a Lady, but her links are mainly with France.’
    Muller nodded. ‘Socially you are far above me, Richenda.’
    ‘I daresay my brother will continue in his ways and bring our family name down,’ said Richenda bitterly.
    Muller was silent.
    ‘What were these rumours?’ I asked.
    ‘Everything from my poisoning my wife to locking her in the attic and faking her funeral.’
    ‘But to what end?’ I asked.
    ‘I have no