With that done, Tom shifted his attention to the rest of the room. It was just in time for Perkins, who had been trailing behind, to appear in the doorway and announce, a little breathlessly, “Detective Sergeant Thomas Gardiner, my lord and lady.”
There was a moment’s silence, and then Aunt Roz flowed to her feet. “Thomas! How lovely to see you!”
It wasn’t her job to welcome guests to Marsden Manor, of course, but the entire Marsden family was glued to their seats, in various poses of shock and incredulity—or in justice to them, perhaps simple surprise. Geoffrey, who was sitting with Violet and Olivia and the Honorable Reggie, looked rather more worried than anything else, while Laetitia was staring daggers at Crispin, as if any of this was his fault.
“Come,” Aunt Roz added, tucking her hand through Tom’s arm. “Let me introduce you to our hosts, and then you can sit and have tea with Kit and Pippa.”
She tugged him across the floor towards the head table. I watched from the other side of the room as Lady Euphemiaand her daughter dredged up whatever pleasantries they could—Lord Maurice is always pleasant, while Uncle Harold rarely is—and then Tom exchanged a few words with Crispin (I assume they were congratulations on the engagement, because Crispin looked panicked for a moment before good manners took over) and Aunt Roz brought Tom back around to us.
“I presume this is your doing, Christopher?” she asked sternly as she handed him over.
Christopher nodded. “I’m afraid so, Mum. Hullo, Tom.” He smiled politely, but the absolute delight in his eyes gave him away. I’m not sure how many of the others in the room could see it—when I flicked a glance at Wolfgang, he wasn’t even looking at Christopher—but I had no illusions about what his mother noticed. Aunt Roz isn’t stupid, and she knows her children.
“Behave yourself, Kit,” she told him. “We’re in public.”
He flicked her a glance. “Of course, Mother. When do I not?”
Aunt Roz muttered something, but didn’t actually respond. It was probably for the best. I don’t think she knows exactly what Christopher gets up to in London, but I also think she has a good idea that he gets up to something.
She took herself off to the table she shared with Uncle Herbert, Francis, and Constance, and I took over the hostess duties. “Good afternoon, Tom. It’s good to see you. Won’t you have a seat?”
“Don’t mind if I do, Pippa.” He gave me a broad smile and a wink as he put his hand on the back of the chair next to me, opposite from Christopher. “It’s good to see you, too. You as well, Natterdorff.”
He nodded politely to Wolfgang as he pulled out the chair and seated himself. Tom was one former soldier who didn’t seem to have a problem with Wolfgang’s nationality, anyway.
“Detective Sergeant Gardiner,” Wolfgang retorted politely. I thought I heard his heels click together under the table, but itcould have been my imagination. “A pleasure to see you again. I trust everything is proceeding well with the criminals from last month?”
Tom nodded. “Oh, yes. All taken care of. They’re all three of them tucked away in Holloway and Hammersmith. They’re not getting out anytime soon.”
That was good to know, anyway. Of the murderers we had encountered over the past half a year or so—several of whom were now dead—Myrtle Cavanaugh was the one I would least like to encounter again. She had hated me when she went to prison, and would no doubt hate me whenever she was released. And she was definitely the type to hold a grudge. Hopefully she would be in there for long enough that I wouldn’t have to worry about retribution for a few decades, at least.
“I see the chaps from the mortuary finally got here,” Tom commented, just as a teacup and saucer, along with a pastry plate, dropped onto the tablecloth in front of him. “Thank you.”
He smiled up at Nellie.
“Goodness,” I said, “you get around, Nellie, don’t you? I didn’t think this was your job.”
It’s not normally the chambermaid’s duty to serve tea, and I didn’t think Lady Euphemia was the type to dispense with the usual customs.
Nellie dropped a quick curtsey. “Jenny wasn’t feeling well, Miss.”
I wrinkled my brow. “She’s all right, isn’t she?” Surely we wouldn’t have yet one more death on our hands?
Nellie seemed to sense what I was really asking, because she assured me, “She’s fine, Miss. Just tired. I offered to serve tea so she could put her feet up for a few minutes while the family is busy.”
Ah. Yes, Lady Euphemia probably wasn’t the type to look kindly upon any dilly-dallying of that nature from the staff, either.
“I won’t tell them anything,” I said, and Nellie beamed.
“Thank you, Miss.” She curtsied and withdrew. Wolfgang’s eyes lingered on her neat little figure for a moment, and so did Christopher’s, albeit with a far less appreciative look. So, for that matter, did Geoffrey’s, from across the room. Violet, who was sitting next to him, made a face as she lifted her teacup and took a sip.
I nudged Christopher’s ankle with the pointy toe of my shoe under the table, and he flushed and came back to himself. “Right you are.” He cleared his throat. “The mortuary van was actually here hours ago. This is the second time today.”
Tom’s brows arched. “You’d better tell me what’s going on, Kit. I seem to have missed some of the details.”
He sipped his tea calmly while we told him everything that had happened since last night. Cecily’s secret and her appearance in the bathroom, followed by her condition this morning when I went to wake her, and then the gunshot—which Tom already knew about.
After that there was Cecily’s death and my conversation with Dominic Rivers, the pennyroyal, poison and plant, and finally Rivers’s murder.
