Page 26 of A Murder, a Marquess, and Miss Mifford
It was going to be a long night, Freddie thought with a sigh.
"Is there anything else I can get for you, my lord?" Farley queried, as he gently placed the dinner jacket on a hanger and began to brush it down.
"No," Freddie yawned, longing for the comfort of his bed--but then a thought struck him.
"Actually, Farley," he said, wrapping his silk banyan tightly around him, "Could you check which play is showing in The Theatre Royal tomorrow?"
Farley's eyebrows knitted together in surprise, but he was too well trained to ask just who his employer would be attending the theatre with.
"Of course," the valet replied, smoothly, "I'll let you know in the morning."
"Thank you," Freddie nodded his head in gratitude, before slipping from the dressing room to his bed chamber--where, no doubt, a night of tossing and turning awaited him.
Chapter Seven
Emily's plan to interrogate the staff of Northcott House was not going as well as she had expected. It was, she knew, mostly her own fault for having expected them to behave as Nora did at home.
While the Mifford's maid would take any excuse to stop working and gossip over a cup of tea, the staff of Northcott House were far more dedicated to their tasks.
Even Sylvie, who Emily found hiding in Mary's dressing room, flicking through a copy ofLa Belle Assembléehad no wish to speak with her.
"I do not fraternize with the other servants," the pretty French maid huffed, following Emily's woeful attempts at interrogation. "I do not know what they do, nor do I care. Though I do care, Miss Mifford, that you appear to be wearing my mistress' best day-dress."
"She told me I could borrow it," Emily lied, before beating a hasty retreat to the drawing room, in case Sylvie demanded she change.
There, she found Mary, with her slippered feet propped up on a silk cushion, snacking on a plate of brightly coloured macaroons.
"I was just having a short rest," Mary said defensively, as Emily entered, "I was rushed off my feet all morning."
"If I was a duchess, I'd stay in bed until noon and eat only bonbons," Emily answered, evenly, "I am not Mama, I do not care how you spend your mornings."
"Well, Iwasvery busy," Mary continued, in a slightly martyred air, as she sat upright, "Going over menus with Mrs Finch, writing a list of guests for the ball Northcott wishes to host, and then listening to Cecilia witter on about baby names. Did you know that the Northcotts have a long history of naming their sons Baldwin? Cecilia thinks I should take up the tradition again, though she conveniently skipped over it forherson."
"Baldwin's not so bad a name," Emily offered, unconvincingly. She was certain it meant something nice like "brave one", but it did unfortunately bring one to mind of "bald one" instead. One didn't want to tempt fate with by bestowing an unfortunate aptronym upon the poor babe.
"I am not carrying a child for nine months, then birthing it, only to bestow it with a horrid moniker to satisfy my mother-in-law," Mary answered, with such ferocity that Emily made a conscious decision to offer her elder sister absolutely no opinion whatsoever on baby names for the remainder of her confinement. Mary looked so ferocious, that Emily decided, actually, it might be best not to have an opinion onanythingfor the next few months.
"Did you have many callers or just Her Grace?" Emily queried, as she took the seat opposite her sister. Mary had placed the plate of macaroons down upon the table, and they looked most tempting, but she did not dare reach out to take one in case she angered the duchess, who was still scowling darkly.
"No," Mary conceded, then reached out to push the plate of macaroons closer to Emily, "Though I pray that you won't fret; with each day that passes, more people will forget that you were accused of murder. Soon, no one will think it at all when they hear your name!"
The macaroons did not look nearly so tempting, now that they were being offered in consolation, but Emily still reached out and took one, for it would be a shame for them to go to waste.
"Actually," Emily began, with a resolute nonchalance to her voice, "Lord Chambers and I are working together, to try figure out who the true culprit is..."
This news was met by startled silence from Mary, though after a moment, a rather smug looking smile began to bloom on her lips. Her joy at having instigated a match, however, soon turned to concern, and Mary cleared her throat.
She was, Emily realised, about to deliver an older sister's speech.
"As marvellous as it is that you are spending time with Lord Chambers," Mary began, "I do not think it seemly for you--an unmarried young lady--to spend so much time investigating a murder with a bachelor."
"That's exactly what you did with Northcott," Emily huffed, outraged by the hypocrisy of it all.
"Yes, but we did that in Plumpton," Mary replied, "Without the eyes of thetonupon us. And, besides, I am older than you."
"I will accept your first argument, but not your second," Emily responded, evenly, "And to counter your first argument, I must stress that Lord Chambers and I have never been alone together. Any interactions we have had, have taken place in drawing rooms or ballrooms, all under the watchful eye of the ton. We have behaved with the utmost propriety."
"Oh, really?" Mary sounded rather disappointed.
