Snobbery With Violence - M. C. Beaton [35]
“Late guest.”
“I do not believe it. I believe Hedley wants you to use your grubby skills to get rid of the police. What are you going to do? Blow up the castle?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think it murder?”
“I don’t know. When did you arrive?”
“This afternoon. I have a splendid new motor car, a Lan-chester.”
“Nasty, smelly things. It’s a fad. It’ll never catch on.”
“Lady Rose. The horse is a thing of the past. Some of the cabs in London are already motorized.”
“Of almost twenty-five thousand vehicles which passed along Piccadilly in one day of this year,” said Rose, “less than four hundred were motor cars. Now what does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you have a fantastic memory for facts, and that memory of yours has led you to believe your intelligence superior. I think you are showing off. I think that desire to show off has blinded you to the obvious fact that the motor vehicle is here to stay.”
Rose walked away from him, her face flaming. Margaret came to join her. “The handsome captain appears to have insulted you.”
“He’s insufferable,” hissed Rose.
“What did he say?”
“He insists the motor car is here to stay.”
“He’s quite right. Was that all?”
Rose suddenly felt she had made a fool of herself. “Oh, he said other things. How are you?”
“Worried. I cannot find Colette. I had to dress myself for dinner. Do you think your maid might know where she is?”
“I’ll find out,” said Rose. She summoned a footman and told him to fetch Daisy.
She waited until Daisy entered the drawing-room and she and Margaret went up to her.
“Colette is missing,” said Margaret. “Do you know where she is?”
“Colette didn’t appear for dinner in the housekeeper’s room,” said Daisy. “So the housekeeper sent one of the maids to her room but she wasn’t there.”
“Does she have a room off yours?” Rose asked Margaret.
“No, you were favoured.”
“I know where it is,” said Daisy.
“Would you please go there and find out if her belongings are still there?”
Daisy bobbed a curtsy and left the room.
“Has she ever disappeared before?” Rose asked Margaret.
“Never.”
They waited impatiently until Daisy reappeared. “Her clothes are gone and her suitcase,” she said. “Why would she go like that?”
Margaret sighed. “I’ll need to engage another. May I share Daisy with you?”
Daisy and Rose exchanged startled looks. Daisy had learned a great deal quickly but was far from being a perfect lady’s maid, but Rose did not know how she could possibly refuse her new friend.
“Of course,” she said. “You may go, Daisy.”
Daisy had just left the room when she heard a voice behind her, calling her name. She turned round and saw the tall figure of Harry Cathcart, who had just emerged from the drawing-room.
She bobbed a curtsy. “Sir?”
“I overheard something about a missing lady’s maid.”
“That’s Colette, Miss Bryce-Cuddlestone’s maid.”
“When did she disappear?”
“Today, sometime or another, sir.”
“Would you please take me to her room?”
“Follow me, sir.”
Daisy, who knew that the captain had been brought to Stacey Court to deter the king’s visit, having been part of the plot herself, shrewdly guessed he had been summoned by the marquess to help to subdue any scandal. Servants’ gossip had also informed her that it was Captain Cathcart who had found out what a cad Blandon was.
They reached the servants’ quarters at the top of the castle, stopping on a landing to pick up and light candles, gaslight not extending to the servants’ rooms. Daisy led the way along an uncarpeted corridor and pushed open a door.
“Why did she have a room of her own?” asked Harry. “There are so many visiting servants.”
“This is one of the smallest and her mistress was one of the first arrivals.”
Harry looked around. A cupboard with a curtain over it to serve as a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a narrow bed, a table and chair, and a hooked rug beside the bed on bare floorboards.
Daisy held back the curtain over the cupboard. “See! All her clothes have gone.”
Harry set his candle in its flat