“So your hypothesis is that Geoffrey brought Rivers to Marsden Manor,” Christopher said, “with enough pennyroyal to get rid of Cecily’s baby, but Violet figured out what he was doing, and because she wanted Geoffrey for herself, she picked some pennyroyal leaves and gave Cecily another dose in a cup of tea…”
I nodded. “No one would have thought anything of it if Violet had asked Cook or the kitchen maid to brew it up, I think. Both she and Cecily had been here before. And they were close friends. If Violet brought Cecily a cup of tea to help her feel better, I think Cecily might have been grateful, and not suspicious at all.”
“But then Cecily dies,” Christopher continued, “and suddenly, Geoffrey is a murderer. That makes Rivers a liability, so he bashes him over the head and leaves him for dead. And then he poisons Violet, because…”
He trailed off, and I got the impression that he was waiting for me to complete the sentence.
“She knew,” I suggested, “and tried to use it to blackmail him into marrying her? He went from the frying pan to the fire, so to speak? From a pregnant girl he had to marry to a girl who knew he was guilty of murder and who wasn’t above blackmailing him?”
“If it isn’t one thing, it’s another,” Christopher said dryly. “Or perhaps you’re right and Violet realized she was on the hook for murder, and so she killed herself rather than risk being arrested.”
“It’s possible. Although so are any number of other scenarios, I think.”
Christopher looked doubtful, but he didn’t protest. There was no time for it, at any rate, because the door to the hallway opened and Tom came in.
“Thank God,” I said. “Is it finally our turn?”
“I’m afraid not, Pippa.” Tom turned to his right. “Come along, Nellie.”
Nellie?
I looked over my shoulder, and there was the maid, daintily perched on a chair in the far corner of the room.
“How long have you been there?” fell out of my mouth, rather rudely. Uncle Harold looked appalled, and it was difficult to blame him.
“I’ve been here since tea began, Miss Darling.” Nellie skirted tables and chairs on her way towards Tom as she spoke. “Excuse me.”
She followed him out the door, which shut behind them.
“Goodness,” I said as I turned to Christopher, “did you know that she was there?”
He shook his head. “I had no idea. I thought we were alone.”
So had I, or I wouldn’t have spoken so freely.
Uncle Harold cleared his throat. “That’s the mark of a good servant. To be seen but not heard, and preferably not that, either.”
Yes, of course. But still, I’m not usually one to ignore the staff.
“I can’t believe she has lasted as long as she has here,” I told Christopher. “She said she’s been here more than a month, and Geoffrey hasn’t bothered her at all yet.”
Christopher glanced at the closed door. “That’s hard to believe. A pretty, little thing like that. You would think Geoffrey would be all over her.”
I nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Although perhaps Cecily’s predicament has put a damper on his ardor for the time being.”
If it had been his baby, of course. But if it had been, it was quite understandable that he wouldn’t want to risk making another one right away.
“It would have dampened mine,” Christopher agreed. “At least we didn’t talk about her while she was sitting there.”
“No, why on earth would we? She’s the maid. She had no reason to want Cecily out of the way. Not if she told the truth and Geoffrey hasn’t approached her.”
Christopher nodded. “A pity, really. It would have been easy for her to poison Violet’s tea.”
“Easy for her to turn pennyroyal leaves into tea for Cecily, too,” I said. “Or easier than for some of us, at any rate.”
No one would have batted an eye if Nellie had walked into the kitchen to ask for leaves to be steeped into tea, any more than they might have batted an eye if it were Laetitia or her mother.
“I hope Tom asks her whether she knows anything about any tea leaves,” I said. “If she comes and goes below stairs, she might.”
