“How is The Countess this morning?” Adelia asked.
Lady Agnes nodded at the tray. “She has eaten all her breakfast which is always a positive start. I thought I’d take the tray back myself to speak to cook about dinner tonight. Unless perhaps Lady Buckshaw herself has already done so, do you know?”
“I very much doubt it. So, you take on many of the duties of the lady of the house?”
Agnes pursed her lips and looked away for a moment, sighing. “Sadly, yes, but you must not think for one moment that it is my choice. I am not the mistress here and have no ambitions in that regard. I know my place and my role, and I am content in it. I step in where I am needed, that is all. When Lady Buckshaw is incapacitated for whatever reason, then of course I do what needs to be done.”
“And I am sure she is grateful for it.”
“Do you think so? For my part, I suspect she doesn’t even notice.”
“Well, then, I am grateful for it, on her behalf. But it is a constrained life for you, nevertheless. What of the future, Lady Agnes?”
She blinked and furrowed her brow. “I do not think of the future. That is in God’s hands and it would be wrong of me to second-guess the divine plan, would it not?”
“Are you so full of faith? I did not see you at church last Sunday although perhaps you are a chapelgoer?” Adelia said. She was hoping to get the confirmation – or denial – of an alibi for Mrs Rush.
“I? I am as faithful as anyone, I suppose; but in this matter, I do trust only in the Lord’s path for me because what else is a spinster woman of my age to do? I have been through my years of anguish. I have walked through the vale of tears and the valley of sorrow and weeping; I have had to come to peace with the future that appears to be mine, and to do more than find mere peace; the only way to really be is to find fulfilment in the lot that befalls one.” She nodded at the tray in her hands. “Here is my lot, and I can do nothing but embrace it. And no, I was not at church or chapel because I sat reading the Bible with my mother.”
“Of course. I understand. Yet if a man of mature years with a steady past came into your future...?”
Just the barest hint of a flicker of interest showed on Lady Agnes’s face. A tinge of pink coloured the thin skin around her eyes, and she almost smiled. She hastily composed herself. “That would never happen. I embrace my fate.” She shifted the weight of the tray in her hands, a clear signal that she wanted to continue down the stairs to the kitchens. Adelia stood aside to let her pass but said, as she went, “So you and The Countess were both here when the death occurred outside?”
Lady Agnes stopped. Now she was looking angry. “Yes. But we saw nothing and heard nothing. If you must know the truth, my mother was asleep and I was reading quietly to myself.”
“So...”
“So no, I have no real alibi – how dare you!”
“No, forgive me, that was not what I was going to say.”
“I have had enough of this. Good day!” Lady Agnes stormed off, and Adelia was left feeling very wrong-footed. Lady Agnes’s reaction was out of all proportion to the innocent questions that Adelia had levelled on her. And that reaction was, therefore, one that made Adelia suspicious. For there were tensions over who was in control here, and Lady Agnes knew more than she was letting on.
And there was someone else who had not been seen that day. It was time, Adelia reflected, to pay a call upon Lady Katharine, out in her gatehouse.
OSCAR BRODIE MUST SPEND half his life lurking in the shrubbery, Adelia thought. Theodore had told her that he had been accosted by the young man the previous day, and now it was her turn. Theodore said that he didn’t mind Oscar and his awkward manner but something about him made Adelia’s flesh creep and she felt ashamed of herself for that. Her unbidden reaction to him made her overcompensate and act with more friendliness than she really felt.
“Good morning, Lady Calaway!” He was dressed like a country squire in tweeds and slightly crumpled yellowish linen, as if it hadn’t been dried in the sun properly. “What news on the death, if I might ask?”
“Nothing as far as I know. Inspector Wilbred has concluded his investigations. The funeral will be soon. We hope Lord Buckshaw will return in time for it.”
Oscar’s face lit up. “Have you heard from my lord?”
“Not yet.”
“Ah. If you do, might I beg a favour? Please let me know. I cannot wait for his return. He means a lot to me.”
“I am sure that he must. He has paid for your education and seems to treat you as a son rather than a nephew. You are very lucky.”
“I am very lucky indeed and I give thanks for it every day. I want only to make him proud of me. So, regarding the death ... you say the investigations are concluded ... might I ask ... do you know ... what those conclusions are?”
He was obsessed with the matter, his eager words coming out in short bursts as if he could not order his thoughts logically. She suppressed a sigh. “I understand it is to be considered an accidental death.” She wasn’t lying, and that was information Oscar could easily get from the newspapers.
“I see, I see. Even though your husband suspects otherwise? What if there is a killer on the loose?”
“Please don’t be worried. I don’t think any of us are in danger.”
He put his hands in his pockets, pulled them out
