The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [6]
Charlotte had started towards the window and stopped abruptly, swinging around to face Emily. “His head cut off!”
“Yes. Unpleasant, isn’t it? I suppose Thomas will be in charge of it, because he was a captain, and his parents are Lord and Lady Winthrop.”
“Who are they?” Charlotte asked with sharper interest. She and Emily had first met Pitt when he had investigated the murder of their elder sister, Sarah, and ever since then they had both involved themselves in his more serious cases as much as opportunity permitted, and frequently a great deal more than Pitt would have allowed, had he been consulted before rather than informed when it was too late.
“Oh, neither old money nor new,” Emily replied dismissively. “Not really very colorful, but connected to half the Home Counties in one way or another, and very aware of it.” She shrugged. “You know the sort of person? Never achieved anything in particular, but always wanted to be important. No imagination, absolutely sure they know what they believe about everybody and everything, quite kind in their own way, as honest as the day, and no sense of humor whatsoever.”
“Deadly,” Charlotte said succinctly. “And all the harder because you cannot really dislike them, just be infuriated and bored.”
“Exactly,” Emily agreed, moving towards the door. “You know, I can’t even remember quite what Lady Winthrop looks like. She might be fairish and a little stout, or else she might be that darkish woman who is too tall. Isn’t it silly? Or she might even be the pigeon-chested one whose face I can’t place at all. I’m not usually like that. I can’t afford to be, with Jack hoping to be in Parliament.” She pulled a face. “Just imagine if one addressed the wrong person as the Prime Minister’s wife!” She pulled an even worse face. “Disaster! Even the Foreign Office wouldn’t consider you after that.”
They were in the hallway, and she stopped with a little sigh of appreciation. “I do like your stairs. Now that is really very elegant, Charlotte. This newel post is one of the handsomest I’ve seen. My goodness, it must have taken some carving.” She tilted her head back and followed the line of the banister upwards to the newel at the top, and then along the landing. “Yes, very gracious. How many bedrooms are there?”
“I told you, five, and plenty of space in the attic for Gracie,” Charlotte replied. “Really nice rooms. She can have two, and I’ll keep the box room and a spare one, just in case.”
Emily grinned. “In case what? Another resident servant?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Why not—one day? Do you know anything about the man who was murdered?” She was thinking of Pitt.
“No.” Emily opened her eyes very wide and bright. “But I could find out.”
“I don’t think you should say anything to Thomas yet,” Charlotte said cautiously.
“Oh, I know,” Emily agreed, nodding her head and leading the way up the stairs, caressing the banister rail as she went. “That’s really very nice.” She stopped for a moment and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s nice too. I do like coffering. None of that plasterwork is broken. All it needs is a little paint. Yes, I know to be careful, Thomas is so much more important these days.” She turned and gave Charlotte a radiant smile. “I’m so glad. I like him enormously, I hope you know that.”
“Of course I know that,” Charlotte said warmly. “I’m glad you like the ceiling too. I thought it was rather fine. It gives the hall dignity, don’t you think?”
They reached the landing at the top and began looking at the bedrooms. Emily was joining in the spirit and ignoring the broken tiles in the fireplaces and the peeling paper on the walls.
“Have they set the date for the by-election