Snobbery With Violence - M. C. Beaton [43]
“I beg your pardon! Oh, you feel obliged to flirt like the other men in the party. You do not have to waste time on such frivolities with me.”
“Are you being deliberately infuriating, or are you just gauche?”
Rose bridled. “I think you should keep your mind on essentials. Miss Gore-Desmond may have been murdered.”
“You would make a good nanny. Stop giving me orders. It is time we went back.”
Luncheon was a jolly affair for all but Rose and Harry. Everyone seemed brightened up by the fact that accidental death had been confirmed. What goes on in their heads, wondered Rose. Look at Margaret, elegant and serene. How could she? Perhaps it was time to unsettle them all. She turned to Sir Gerald Burke on her right and said, “I met Miss Gore-Desmond’s maid, Quinn, at the inquest. She told me her mistress had never used arsenic cosmetically to clear her skin.”
“It’s not very fashionable these days,” he said. “She probably kept it a secret.”
“I didn’t think one could have secrets from one’s lady’s maid.”
“Oh, one can, I gather, with professional, well-trained lady’s maids. If you will forgive me for saying so, I notice that you are a trifle over-familiar with yours.”
“I do not believe servants should be treated as pieces of machinery. They have hearts and souls and feelings, just like us.”
“Nonsense. They do not have the sensitive finer feelings of their betters. They are made of coarser fibre.”
“Surely that is nonsense.”
Sir Gerald stared at her a moment and then turned away to speak to Deborah Peterson.
Rose decided to try her luck with Clive Fraser on her right. “I went to the inquest this morning,” she began.
“How horrid for you,” he said, his handsome face creased in sympathy. “No place for a lady. Still, good verdict.”
“I met Quinn, Miss Gore-Desmond’s lady’s maid. She said her mistress had never used arsenic.”
“Jolly good. Loyal servant, what.”
“But I think she was telling the truth.”
His eyes stared at her as if trying to solve a complex problem. Then he shook his head and said, “The weather’s turned a bit sharp. Jolly castle, this. Like the ones in Young England. Only thing I ever read were the stories in those magazines. Knights and ladies. You must think me sentimental, but I’m a softhearted chap.”
“Then you must have noticed the distressing state of the Telby villagers—being soft-hearted, I mean.”
He goggled at her. “What about them? Tidy little pub.”
“I believe the pub, like the village, is owned by Lord Hedley. He obviously favours it, but not the housing or condition of the villagers.”
“Wait a bit... wait a bit.” He banged his head. “You’re one of the Shrieking Sisterhood. That’s why you’ve these odd ideas. Pity. YOU being so pretty and all.”
He turned away to speak to Lady Trumpington on his other side. By order of precedence, Rose should have been at the head of the table next to the marquess, but Hedley seemed to delight in the unconventionality of ignoring strict rules of protocol.
Harry covertly watched Rose repulse first the one and then the other. He felt impatient. If she would only try to flirt a bit, be a bit more feminine, she would get more out of them.
So after the male guests had set out for an afternoon’s shooting, he asked Rose if she would care to go for a walk.
Soon they were walking out over the drawbridge under a steel-grey sky. Daisy and Becket were walking behind.
“I could not help noticing your behaviour at luncheon,” began Harry.
“And what was wrong with it, may I ask? I was simply trying to elicit information.”
“You won’t get any information out of any of them if you hint at murder and go on like the grand inquisitor. If Hedley gets to hear of your suspicions, he’ll send you home.”
“Perhaps that would be a good idea,” said Rose. “I am weary of this fake castle, its guests, and you.”
“See what I mean? If you wish me to treat you like an equal—then go and boil your head, you rude ... thing.”
“How dare you speak to me like this.” Rose stopped and glared at him, her fists clenched.
“You deserve it. I bet you I can get more information over the tea-table than you