poked their attractive little faces through various stems and tufts of edible vegetation, while spectacular birds and iridescent insects hovered in the skyâwhich was the ceiling. There was a vast rectangular table at the roomâs center, surrounded by eighteen dark wooden chairs with tall, Gothic-arched backs. As in my room, the segment of the circle adjoining the rest of the wing was windowless, but here it featured a monumental fireplace. It was tiled, buttressed, painted with a good deal of red paint, and highlighted with glinting gold leaf. Beside it was a massive door. My room had a little door in the same spot that led to a bathroom. I wondered what was behind the door in this room.
âSit to my right, Cait,â called Alice Cadwallader from across the room. Her rasping tones bounced around, and it was immediately clear that any sound of chatter would do the same beneath the high ceiling, which was beamed like a spider web, with a massive iron chandelier hanging from its mid-point. âAnd you, the fiancé, sit to my left. I want to find out more about you. You look rather interesting. Mair, Owain, move along.â
I felt awkward as I took the seat vacated by the daughter of the house, and my embarrassment was heightened when Aliceâs imperious demands resulted in everyone shuffling from seat to seat. We eventually all settled with Alice at the head of the table, Bud to her left, next to Mair, then Idris, whoâd just rushed in to join us, having presumably finished his grisly task in the kitchen. I sat to Aliceâs right, next to Owain, then Siân, then Janet. The rest of the table stretched away, unused, making us look like a very feeble gathering.
Dilys Jones entered from the great hall carrying a huge tray, which she placed on a discreet sideboard. She placed platters of pâté, toast, and butter in the center of the table. She rather ungraciously plopped the plates down, reaching between us as though we were in the way.
âItâs not what you were supposed to be having,â the cook announced grumpily, âbut with all that fuss about David I wasnât able to do a roast. I managed to get some toast done, and this was ready for tomorrow, but youâre having it now. Itâs rabbit pâté. The main will be cawl, which should have been your starter, but you can have bigger bowls. Then thereâll be trifle. Not really appropriate, but itâll have to do. I can make teisen lap for tomorrow instead, but I didnât have time to do the rice pudding Iâd planned.â It seemed that David Daviesâs death had been an imposition.
âMair, come and serve me,â said Alice loudly, âand tell me again what happened to David. Was it a nasty fall?â
I heard Mair sigh heavily, clearly holding back anger, as she left her seat. âI told you, Mother, heâs dead. He died. He broke his neck. Of course it was a nasty fall.â
âYou never said he was dead .â Aliceâs shock changed to horror. âYou mean he died ? Why didnât anyone tell me? It is my house, you know. I just let the rest of you live in it. I have every right to know. I should have been informed. Was it instant?â
As Mair piled pâté and butter onto a plate, then balanced a few slices of toast beside the glistening mounds, she almost hissed, âHe fell down the servantsâ stairs, Mother, and his neck was broken in the fall. He was dead before he hit the bottom.â
âYou donât know that,â said Owain. âHe might have been alive for some time, then died just before he was found. Or even after he was found.â
As Dilys circled the table she replied to Owain, âHe must have been dead by the time he hit the bottom. The way his neck was broken, he couldnât have lasted the fall. Seen enough birds with broken necks in my time to know he was dead.â
âI hope it was a quick, clean death,â said Mair