British Manor Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online Page A

seem to appreciate our presence earlier,” said Sue, nervously eyeing the yellow Lab that was leaning its shoulder against her leg. “They were sleeping on the sofas and growled at us.”
    â€œThey were just worried you’d make them give up their comfortable perches,” said Poppy. “The trick with dogs is to be firm. Isn’t that right, Monty?”
    Hearing his name, the yellow Lab trotted over to Poppy and sat down in front of her, one paw raised.
    â€œGood boy.” She pointed to one of the two dog beds that were arranged in a corner. “Now go lie down. You, too, Churchy.”
    The dogs obeyed, but not without reproachful glances and sighs.
    â€œThey’re such actors,” said Perry. “They could go on stage.”
    Poppy set a big bowl on the center island and began pulling salad greens out of the fridge, which prompted Lucy to offer to help.
    â€œThanks,” said Poppy, handing her a head of lettuce.
    After giving her hands a quick wash, Lucy began tearing the lettuce into bite-size pieces and adding them to the bowl. The butter lettuce was lovely, crisp and silky to her touch, much nicer than anything she had grown in her Maine garden, and she said so.
    â€œThat’s one of the advantages of having professional gardeners on staff,” said Poppy.
    â€œPerry was saying most of your food comes from the estate,” said Sue.
    â€œWe have quite a farm, and there’s game, too,” said Poppy as a rather stocky man dressed in Wellies and an aged Barbour jacket came in through the French doors. “Ah, here’s my husband, Gerald. He manages the estate farm. Gerald, meet Perry’s friends, Lucy and Sue. They’ve come for the hat show.”
    â€œVery good,” he said, nodding affably as he removed his jacket and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall next to the door. Several other pieces of clothing were already hanging there, and a neat row of boots stood at attention beneath them. He paused for a moment, rubbing his hands and studying Sue and Lucy, almost as if he were sizing up a pair of fillies offered for sale at an agricultural show. Then he cocked an eyebrow and turned to his wife. “Since we have company, shall we open a bottle of wine?”
    Lucy was quick to speak up. “None for me.”
    Gerald turned to Sue and, detecting a hint of interest, gave a chuckle. “I bet Sue here wouldn’t mind a drop. Am I right?”
    â€œI wouldn’t mind, but don’t open a bottle on my account.”
    â€œI’ll have a glass,” said Perry.
    â€œAnd Gerald will have several,” said Poppy with a disapproving expression.
    â€œJust being sociable, m’dear.” Gerald disappeared through a doorway, returning a few moments later with two dusty bottles.
    â€œNot the Margaux, I hope,” said Perry, casting a suspicious glance at the bottles.
    â€œJust a nice old claret,” said Gerald.
    â€œI see I’m just in time. Dad’s got the plonk out,” said a young man, who had also come in through the French doors. He was smiling.
    Lucy noticed he had an air of confidence and physical ease that seemed quite remarkable. With his blond hair, high cheekbones, and cleft chin, he could have been a model, she thought, or an actor. He was dressed stylishly in a dark pea coat and had a Burberry plaid scarf wrapped around his neck.
    â€œDesi!” exclaimed Poppy. “You made good time!”
    â€œJust sailed along on the M40,” he replied, giving his mother a peck on the cheek.
    Poppy introduced Lucy and Sue, explaining that Desi was her son and he was visiting, taking a break before taking up a position as a soloist at the Royal Ballet.
    â€œCongratulations,” said Sue, accepting a glass of wine from Gerald. “That’s quite an achievement.”
    â€œJust luck,” he said modestly as his father handed him a glass of wine. “I brought Flo with me, but she wanted