The Corpse with the Sapphire Eyes by Cathy Ace Read Free Book Online Page B

“Yes, we have a very unusual layout here. It’s all a bit confusing because each part of the castle has a different number of floors. This wing has three floors, our wing has five, and the middle of the castle, the oldest part, only has two floors, properly speaking, plus the basement, which houses the kitchens. So, in this wing is this floor, which houses the morning room, this dining room, and the library, through there”—she waved an arm in the direction of the “mystery” door—“then there are the four guest rooms on the floor you’re using: the bridal boudoir above our heads, the groom’s room, and two more guest rooms. But there is another floor above that, where we could open up more guest rooms. To do that we’d need to remodel to allow for ensuite facilities, and all the new health and safety regulations. That would take a lot of money, so the floor is shut up for now. But—” She stopped speaking and literally bit her lip. I felt sorry for her. I suspected that the income from a possible contract with a television company would provide the cash necessary for the updating of the potential additional guest facilities.
    â€œYou mentioned my private library, Eirwen,” said Owain. “Please don’t give the impression that the room is open to the public.” He nodded in our general direction. “I’m sure you appreciate that a man’s library is his own domain.”
    â€œIt’s my library, Owain,” said Alice Cadwallader, wiping the corners of her mouth with an embroidered napkin. She picked up her glass of sherry and drained the last few drops. “I’ll take some wine now, Mair,” she called.
    â€œYes, Mother,” replied her daughter patiently, pushing aside her plate and rising from her seat. Mair moved to a second sideboard set so perfectly against the rounded wall that it must have been made for the room, just like the one upon which Dilys had carefully placed her serving tray. I thought it odd that Mair didn’t serve her mother from the bottles of wine that sat upon the table, and from which we’d been invited to pour for ourselves. I began to wonder why she would do that, when my attention was taken by a sudden gust of wind that blew open the shutters on the window next to the sideboard, sending the curtain billowing into Mair. The bottle fell from her hand and shattered on the worn rug covering the flagstones.
    A general hubbub ensued, which only ended when Dilys Jones, initially summoned by means of a bell-rope beside the fireplace, came rushing back in again with a dustpan and brush, and a copious amount of salt. “That’s all I can do for the stain right now,” she announced glumly, shooting an accusing glance toward Mair, who was ensuring that the window was closed. Mair took her seat when she was finished.
    Alice, whose wheelchair had remained in place at the head of the table, called to her grandson, “Check she’s done that right, Idris. You know what she’s like.”
    â€œIt’s shut, Mother,” said Mair.
    â€œI’m sure it’s just fine, Alice,” added Idris, obviously not wanting to be used to belittle his aunt.
    â€œCheck it, Idris, we don’t want another mess. Look at all that over there,” snapped Alice imperiously.
    Idris succumbed.
    â€œIt wasn’t my fault, Mother,” bleated Mair. “The wind blew it open. It is a terrible night out there, or haven’t you noticed?”
    â€œYou are the housekeeper, Mair, and, as such, you were responsible for preparing this room for dinner. The fire is hardly alight; the shutters are blowing open every two minutes. Are you trying to make me catch my death of cold? Trying to kill me off? Is that it? Are you trying to get your hands on your inheritance that way?”
    Just as Dilys Jones re-entered the dining room carrying another wide tray bearing an impressive tureen, Mair