Page 4 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford (Regency Murder and Marriage #4)

“Well, he’s definitely dead,” the doctor said as he glanced down at the body on the ground, “If you have a name, I can write up a death certificate when I return home. I was in the middle of a sumptuous leek and liver pie when I was called.”

“Can you tell how he died, doctor?” Miss Mifford interrupted, with barely concealed impatience.

“If I was to hazard a guess, I’d say he fell down drunk on his way home and was taken by the cold,” the doctor answered, as he swept another cursory glance across the body, “I have summoned Mr Burke and Mr Hare to remove the body to the chapel in St Mary’s.

Will that be all, Mr Marrowbone? As I said, it’s quite the sumptuous pie. ”

Were all the inhabitants of Plumpton this bone idle, Rob wondered with bemusement.

“Forgive me, doctor,” he interrupted, using his most Etonian accent, “I believe it would be prudent for you to examine the body thoroughly, once it has been removed.”

“And you are?” Dr Bates queried, with much belligerence.

“Lord Delaney, Baron Bloomsbury,” Rob answered, smoothly, “I stumbled across the scene on my way to Plumpton Hall; I am a guest of Lord Crabb.”

As Rob had expected, the doctor’s demeanour changed considerably when he learned that he was in the presence of a member of the aristocracy.

“Of course, my lord, that was exactly what I had intended to do,” Dr Bates assured him obsequiously, “Once I am confident of the cause of death, I will make haste to Plumpton Hall to inform you of my findings. Until this poor fellow is removed to the chapel, however, there’s very little I can do except -”

“Return to finish your pie?” Robert hid a grin, “Very good doctor, I will await you in Plumpton Hall.”

“Wonderful; I am looking forward to a good brandy,” Dr Bates declared, although he had not actually been invited for one.

His departure was followed by the arrival of Mr Burke and Mr Hare, the village’s elderly grave diggers.

“Good thing you found him when you did,” one of the men called to Mr Marrowbone, “There’s a shower of snow coming, mark my words.”

“Snow?” the constable called back in disbelief, “You’re predicting snow when the sky above is blue, Mr Hare? I won’t listen to such tosh, but if you’d like to predict when you’ll repay me that sixpence I loaned you, then I’m all ears.”

The men squabbled happily, and it was clear to Rob that they had forgotten his presence. Usually, he would not have minded, but he did not wish for them to begin their gruesome work in front of Miss Mifford.

“Miss Mifford,” Robert said, loudly, “Why don’t I escort you home? This isn’t the type of work a young lady should witness.”

“Miss Mifford,” Mr Hare called in surprise, “I didn’t see you standing there. Away home now, this is not something a lady should see.”

Miss Mifford looked as though she wanted to argue, but thought better of it when she caught Rob’s pointed frown.

“Thank you for your kind offer, my lord,” she said simply, lifting her skirts and taking off through the bushes.

Rob tipped his hat to the three remaining gentlemen, before following her at a keen pace.

“There’s no need to escort me home, my lord,” she said, as they emerged back onto the Bath Road. “I am sure you’re desperate to get to Plumpton Hall for some rest and refreshments.”

“I am more interested in learning what it was that you took from the gentleman’s pocket and why,” Rob answered, congenially. He untied his horse, which was tethered to a nearby branch, then gestured for Miss Mifford to begin walking.

It wasn’t quite the alone time Rob had imagined - with a dead body behind them and a stallion between - but he was not about to miss an opportunity to be unchaperoned with the lady who had occupied his thoughts since the season’s end.

“I’m not a thief,” she mumbled in reply, her cheeks a charming shade of pink. “I just thought that there might be something that might identify the man in his pockets. Mr Marrowbone is not the most thorough of investigators.”

“I concur,” Rob agreed, with an amused smile, “Now, tell me, what did you find?”

Miss Mifford halted her step and rummaged in the pocket of her skirts. After a moment, she produced a nondescript, white handkerchief; the type that anyone could purchase in haberdasheries the length and breadth of the country.

“Is it embroidered with initials?” Rob guessed, “Or even a full name?”

“No,” Miss Mifford flushed again, clearly embarrassed, “But it’s covered in an unusually thick white dust. It could mean something, could it not?”

She spoke with an earnestness that touched Rob’s heart - so much so, that he did not theorise aloud that it might be a snuff handkerchief. The kind used by men to protect their clothes from the popular powdered tobacco.

“It could,” Rob agreed, as they continued walking, “Hopefully Mr Marrowbone will learn the chap’s identity and any investigating on our part will be unnecessary.”

He had not intentionally used the determiner “our”, but once said aloud, Rob rather liked the sound of it. He stole a glance across at Miss Mifford, who did not seem overly perturbed by its use, and he hid a smile of satisfaction.

Miss Mifford was the type of lady who was likely to bolt if Rob tried too hard to woo her.

His campaign would have to be one of stealth and surreptitiousness.

He would have to tread carefully so that she did not realise she was being courted until it was too late and she had fallen head over heels in love with him.

He just hoped she would realise she loved him before they both reached their dotage.

They passed by a row of thatched cottages, carried on over the bridge, and found themselves back in Plumpton.

The village was quieter now, for it was nearly luncheon, but two figures remained standing at the village green, the same ladies who had earlier attempted to eavesdrop on Rob and Mr Marrowbone.

“Lud, no,” Miss Mifford groaned as the two ladies hurried across to them.

“Miss Mifford,” the stouter of the two women called, “What’s all this I hear about a dead body being found on the Bath Road?”

“Just that, Mrs Canards,” she replied, with a resigned sigh, “We found a dead body, we don’t know who he is or how he got there.”

Mrs Canards’ eyes instantly turned to Robert, who could almost read her thoughts.

And who is we?

Robert hastily hid the smile he had been wearing since Miss Mifford had uttered the charming coupled pronoun and adopted a serious expression.

“Lord Delaney, Baron Bloomsbury,” he introduced himself, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, “I’m afraid I shall have to escort Miss Mifford home at once; she’s had quite the shock.”

He nodded at the two ladies - one plump, one reed thin - and escorted Miss Mifford away at a quick pace.

“The town gossip, I presume?” Rob queried once they were out of earshot.

“Not for long, perhaps,” she offered him a shy smile, “Between the discovery of a body and spotting me being escorted home by a baron, Mrs Canards is likely to expire from the excitement of it all.”

“As long as you don’t expire from it all, that’s all that matters,” Rob said, his tone most earnest.

He caught sight of Miss Mifford blushing beneath her bonnet; she had not missed the truth in his words. He should not like to lose her to excitement or to lose her to anything at all...

“Here we are,” she called with notable relief as they arrived at a gate bearing a sign that declared “Primrose Cottage".

“Er, would you like a cup of tea? No, I expect you’ll want to head on to Plumpton Hall to prepare for dinner.”

Given his title, Robert had never before been asked a question and had it answered for him.

Rather than find it rude, he could see that Miss Mifford’s abruptness was because she was a bit flustered by him.

She had also experienced a most upsetting morning, he reasoned, as he resisted the urge to tease her.

There would be plenty of time for teasing, for he was staying for a week.

“You’re quite right,” he said, as he took off his hat to offer her a bow, “It’s best if I arrive at Plumpton Hall before my carriage, or my valet will think I’ve taken a detour to The Ring’O’Bells. Until this evening, Miss Mifford.”

Robert gave her the most flourishing bow he could muster and remained standing at the gate as she made her way to the front door. Only when he was certain she was safely inside did he mount Jupiter and continue on his way.

Mysterious corpses aside, it was looking like he was going to have a most enjoyable stay in Plumpton. Most enjoyable indeed.