Page 14 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford (Regency Murder and Marriage #4)
“Mama!” Mary objected, casting a furtive glance across to Northcott to ensure he had not heard, “Cecilia’s playing was wonderful. Why must you make everything a competition?”
As Mary and her mother bickered, Eudora slipped away from the room.
She followed the light from the candles in the sconces from the entrance hall, up the stairs and toward The Long Room.
Unlike the rest of the house, the room was in darkness - even in a house as grand as Plumpton Hall, it was considered frivolous to waste even tallow on a rarely used room.
Luckily, the night outside was clear, and a large moon hung high in the sky, lending The Long Room some of its glow.
Eudora twice paced the Oriental runner, which ran the length of the room, before Lord Delaney appeared.
“Forgive me,” he said apologetically. “We were somewhat waylaid by your mother’s impromptu performance on the pianoforte.”
“Oh, dear,” Eudora bit her lip.
“I have never heard Mary Has a Little Lamb played with such passion before,” the baron assured her, his tone almost sincere.
Despite her embarrassment, Eudora could not help but laugh as she imagined her mama attacking the keys of the pianoforte with the seriousness of Bach or Mozart.
“My family are a tad…unusual,” Eudora offered, settling on the least alarming adjective to best describe her clan.
“As are all families,” Lord Delaney answered sympathetically, “If my sisters were present, I’m certain their behaviour would bounce between syrupy sweet and outrageously obnoxious - and they would say the same of mine.
I shall not even attempt to guess what my younger brother would get up to—thankfully, he’s safely imprisoned in Oxford, terrorising the locals there. ”
He offered Eudora such a disarming smile - humble and boyish - that she could not help but return it.
“We are agreed that families can be tiresome, my lord,” she declared.
“Robert,” he corrected her gently, “Partners in an investigation cannot stand on such formalities as titles, Eudora.”
Eudora willed a blush away; partners in an investigation did not blush like a green girl when spoken to. Nor did they read flirtation into every word said to them, she reminded herself sternly.
“Indeed, Robert,” she agreed, her tone as formal and brusque as the captain of the King’s Horse Guard, “I have much to share with you in that respect.”
In a rushed whisper, she explained her trip to the kitchens and Flora’s revelation that all of their suspects had visited in the hours before Lord Albermay’s death.
“Any one of them could have swiped the knife while they were there,” she finished, “I know it does not narrow down the list, as such, but it does show that the murderer had the means to obtain the weapon.”
“Very good,” Robert nodded, “So our main suspects - Lord and Lady Albermay and Lord Percival - were all in the kitchen on the night. I must admit, I still have my doubts about Lord Percival’s ability to murder a man, no matter that they were of the same age.”
“Actually, Robert -” Eudora interrupted, then explained Cecilia’s tale and her comment on the earl’s athleticism.
“One wouldn’t suspect, from looking at him,” was all that Robert had to say on that matter. His expression turned decidedly uncomfortable, as though he wished to say something but was too afraid.
“What is it?” she pressed.
“My valet has become quite friendly with Lady Albermay’s maid,” he began, his hesitant tone causing Eudora’s stomach to flutter with nerves.
“The morning that the murder was discovered, she asked Higgins to come look at something in the viscountess’ room,” he continued, “It was a dress, damp from having been scrubbed, covered in what looked like blood stains.”
“What looked like blood stains?” Eudora stressed, unwilling to believe ill of her friend.
“The dress was washed,” Robert conceded, his tone unnervingly kind. “However, Higgins described rust-like stains as being clearly visible.”
“Perhaps it was just rust,” Eudora answered, petulant despite his kindness.
“Perhaps,” he agreed cheerfully, “However, we must open our minds to the idea that the culprit might be someone we’d rather it not be.”
He paused warmth and concern in his brown eyes. Eudora nodded glumly in response; he was correct, unfortunately.
“We’ll see what - if anything - turns up tomorrow after Lord Crabb has conducted his interviews,” Robert decided, “You never know, Lord Albermay might be so deep in his cups that he confesses to everything.”
Eudora smiled at the idea, but inside, she rather hoped that he did not confess. It was childish, but she wished to solve the mystery herself, to prove to her sisters that she was just as good as them.
“We’ll meet again tomorrow to discuss any new revelations,” she agreed, “In the meantime, we shall keep our eyes and our ears peeled for more clues.”
“Yes, captain,” Robert agreed, giving her a mock salute.
Eudora bit back a smile of delight; no one had ever called her “captain” or thought she was in charge of anything. It was rather exhilarating.
She paused, wondering what she should say in response. As silence fell between them, she became acutely aware that they were alone - alone in a room made romantic by moonlight, no less.
She glanced up at Robert and saw that his brown eyes were dark and brooding. Did he wish to kiss her? Did she wish for him to kiss her?
Eudora thought about it for a moment and realised that, yes, she did. She glanced at his firm and generous mouth and imagined it pressed against hers. The image gave her such a giddy thrill that she flushed.
She glanced down at her slippered feet, wondering when Lord Delaney might make his move, but to her disappointment, he remained still.
“I shall wait here for a few minutes,” he said evenly, “Lest we are caught together traversing the corridors alone.”
“Oh, of course,” she agreed, feeling slightly foolish.
Had she imagined the desire in his eyes?
Was it possible that as well as convincing the world that Lord Delaney was on the verge of proposing, her mother had also convinced her?
It was entirely possible that his romantic interest in her was nothing more than a figment of her mother’s imagination.
Humiliation caused tears to sting Eudora’s eyes, though she blinked them back bravely.
“Goodnight, my lord,” she said, her formal tone hiding her hurt, “We shall speak again tomorrow.”
Eudora took off on her slippered feet without so much as a backwards glance. She dashed along the Oriental runner toward the door, slipping quickly out. In the hallway, she took the first turn she chanced across, desperate to reduce her chances of bumping into Lord Delaney again.
She spotted a set of servants’ stairs and slipped down them, idly nursing her hurt.
For a moment, she felt a stab of annoyance toward Lord Delaney, but that was quickly quashed as she recalled that it was her mama who had set her up for her spectacular fall.
Chagrin at her mother’s antics was so familiar a feeling that it offered Eudora a moment of comfort from her humiliation.
At the bottom of the staircase, she found a door that led to a hallway in the West Wing of the house. The hallway was dark, made even darker by the mahogany panels that lined it.
Eudora stepped out, thinking of returning to her room, but as she moved down the pitch-black corridor, she heard footsteps approaching.
Panicked, she slipped behind a large suit of armour, hoping that she would not be seen. She held her breath as the footsteps neared, wondering who was traipsing around Plumpton Hall so late at night.
“-and I think that we should tell the truth,” she heard a man’s voice whisper.
“We should just stick to our stories, Michael,” a female voice argued. “Lord Crabb is unlikely to overpress us.”
Eudora froze, still with shock; the voice speaking belonged to Lady Albermay. If she wasn’t mistaken, the man to whom she spoke was Captain Ledger.
She strained her ears, hoping to hear more, but as the pair moved further along the hallway, their whispers faded.
Oh, dear, Eudora thought as she stepped out from behind the metal suit. She didn’t want to believe it, but it was looking more and more likely that Lady Albermay had murdered her husband.