Page 15 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
After a few moments of awkward silence, Mrs Mifford picked up where she had left off, detailing the plights she suffered during the snow of eighty-nine.
“We were running out of food,” she said to no one in particular, “And I thought that if the snow didn’t melt soon, we would be forced to eat the spiders from the attic. Imagine! What on earth would I have seasoned it with? Thyme for beef, rosemary for lamb, parsley for fish - what would one put on a spider?”
The table considered her question rhetorical, and the assembled guests continued to eat their breakfast in silence - though with less gusto than before, as they each imagined partaking in an arachnid-themed feast. Gradually, they began to slip away one by one; Captain Ledger to the drawing room to catch up on correspondence, Lady Albermay to her room to rest, the dowager duchess and Lord Percival to play cards, and Mr Lowell to the library to read.
Finally, only the immediate family - and Rob - were left.
“This is terrible,” Lady Crabb said, dropping her head into her hands as the door shut behind Mr Lowell.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Mrs Mifford replied soothingly to her daughter. “I’m sure when news spreads of Lord Albermay’s murder, your party will be the talk of the ton. Everyone will wish they’d been invited!”
“I don’t think she’s upset about her reputation as a hostess, dear,” Mr Mifford interrupted, “Rather, she’s upset because one of her guests was murdered.”
“I don’t see why when he wasn’t very nice,” Mrs Mifford huffed, voicing the thought everyone had shared but had manners enough not to say aloud, “Even his son said he deserved it.”
Rob caught Miss Mifford’s eye; by the looks of things, she shared his suspicions about the viscount’s son.
“We will discover the perpetrator,” Northcott assured them, sounding most impressive and ducal.
“I do have previous experience in solving murders,” his wife added with a slightly smug look.
“We all have experience,” Lady Chambers replied mildly, though her face fell as she caught sight of Eudora, “Er, well, most of us do.”
“Let’s get all of our ducks lined up on the same page,” Miss Charlotte Mifford interrupted, her choice of words momentarily perplexing Robert. “There’s a murderer under this roof and we shall have to work together to find out who it is. There’s no time for arguments or competition.”
“True,” the duchess agreed, though she sounded somewhat petulant for a lady of her standing.
“We’ll all work together as best we can,” Northcott added his voice to the chatter before continuing sternly, “But leave the bulk of the investigative work to the menfolk. If there is a murderer under this roof, then I do not wish for any of you ladies to put yourselves in danger, is that understood?”
The four Mifford sisters and their cousin reluctantly agreed with the duke. Still, from the determined gleam in her eye, Rob could already tell that Miss Mifford had no intention of obeying poor Northcott.
“I think I’ll take a walk in the Long Room,” she said, removing her napkin from her lap. “It’s so stuffy in here.”
“You might freeze to death there,” Lady Crabb observed with a wry smile, “Take a shawl; one dead guest is enough.”
Miss Mifford stole from the room, though as she left, she gave Robert a rather pointed stare—she wished for him to join her.
Rob blushed like a green girl as he worried how on earth he might take his own leave without attracting suspicion. Mercifully, the others took the lead from Miss Mifford and decided that they, too, were finished breakfast.
“I think I shall retire to my room and read for a spell,” Rob said to no one in particular. His statement was met with vague murmurings and smiles, which he took as permission to leave.
Once out in the entrance hall, he collared the first servant he could find for directions to the Long Room.
“Take a left on the second floor and carry on to the end of the corridor, my lord,” the footman advised him, “I’d wear an outdoor coat; it’s cold up there.”
Rob thanked him but paid no heed to his advice to layer up. Who needed a coat to keep him warm when his burning desire for Miss Mifford would do just that?
CHAPTER FIVE
THE AIR INthe Long Room was frigid, but Eudora did not mind. She was too excited to pay any heed to her environment - at last, a murder of her own to solve.
Her mind raced as she paced the length of the room, the walls of which were lined with portraits of Lord Crabb’s long-dead relatives. She paused before a picture of the third viscountess - whose face was most equine-like - and idly wondered if Lord Delaney had understood that she wished for him to join her to discuss matters.
The instant that she had learned of Lord Albermay’s murder, Eudora knew that he was the only person who would support her in her investigations. She didn’t know how she knew; she just knew…
An odd feeling stole over her, which she stubbornly quashed. Lord Delaney was simply the only person who treated her as an adult, that was all.
“Ahem, you wished to see me?”
