Page 4 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
The Marquess of Highfield was - by Plumpton standards at least - something of a dandy. He took great pride inhis appearance, wore only the latest fashions, and exuded a confidence that could be mistaken for vanity by those who did not know him well. Despite all this, he had been roundly accepted into the Mifford clan, bar the occasional teasing remark.
Emily took off for home, still wearing Eudora’s bonnet, leaving Eudora alone with her father.
“Why so glum?” Mr Mifford enquired as Eudora gave a morose sigh.
“I fear that I’m being left behind,” she explained, gesturing around the now-empty kitchen, “No matter what I do, I always feel like I’m playing catch-up with the others. Marriage, babies, murders - they’ve all accomplished everything before I even have a chance to get started.”
“You must try not to feel like you’re in competition with your sisters,” Mr Mifford counseled gently. "You are each unique, and all the things you wish for will happen at a time that is right for you.”
“I know,” Eudora agreed, holding a petulant sigh. “It’s just that I’d like something to happen soon.”
“Well, you shan’t find a husband in the kitchen,” her father answered with a grin, “Why don’t you take yourself out for a walk and clear your head? With any luck, you might stumble across a handsome bachelor - or a dead body. At this stage, I’m not entirely certain which of those you would find a more exciting prospect.”
On that chipper note, Mr Mifford left to return to his library. Eudora, with little else to occupy her - for she dared not set foot in Plumpton Hall while her mother was there fussing - retrieved her bonnet and pelisse from upstairs and set out on a walk.
She took off toward Plumpton, where she found the village bustling with activity as its residents went about their morning tasks. Outside the greengrocer’s, she spotted Mrs Canards - thevillage gossip - standing alongside her constant shadow, Mrs Wickling.
As Mrs Canards was not the sort of woman to take a sleight quietly, Eudora battled against her impulse to cross the road to avoid her. Instead, she pasted a bland smile across her face and attempted to pass the pair with a simple salute.
Unfortunately, Mrs Canards was determined to have some gossip from her, and maneuvered herself so that she blocked the footpath, preventing Eudora’s escape.
“Why, Miss Mifford,” she said, her tone laced with false sweetness, “How nice to see you out and about. Given that your guests are soon due, I thought we wouldn’t see any of you for days.”
“The others are up at Plumpton Hall, preparing for them now,” Eudora replied, though she wondered why she felt the need to explain herself. Something about Mrs Canards’ way of asking questions made her feel like a green girl about to be caught out fibbing.
“Yes, such preparations are best left to married ladies,” the older woman agreed, in what Eudora perceived to be an intended barb, before continuing, “Tell me, is it true that Lady Albermay is included on the guest list?”
“She is,” Eudora replied, “She’s a good friend of the family.”
“How strange,” Mrs Canards held a gloved hand to her chest, “From what I’ve read of her in the gossip columns, she doesn’t seem the sort of woman one would choose as a friend. Still, a duchess, a viscountess, and a marchioness can’t be wrong, now can they?”
“I suppose they’re called gossip columns for a reason, Mrs Canards, for they report rumours, not facts.” Eudora replied, mulishly, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m in a tremendous hurry.”
Eudora stuck her nose in the air and hurried past Mrs Canards, inwardly stewing at her thinly veiled attack on LadyAlbermay. The viscountess had become a target for the tabbies of the ton, who held her American background, her vivacious good looks, and the fact that she was some sixty years younger than her husband against her. If Lady Albermay was seen merely conversing politely with a gentleman, it could be assured that it would be written about in the next day’s papers.
Eudora continued on at a fast pace to lend credence to her lie that she was in a hurry. She crossed the bridge over the stream which divided Upper and Lower Plumpton and hurried up the London Road, as though she was headed for Northcott Manor. She passed the church of St Mary’s and the rectory beside it, which had once housed the late vicar, Mr Parsims. His was the first murder to have been solved by a Mifford girl.
The first of three and there was unlikely to be a fourth, Eudora thought, with a great deal of self-pity, as she veered off the road toward a dirt path that would take her down to the river. From there, she could make her way back to Primrose Cottage without having to traverse through the village again.
The briars that lined the path were slightly overgrown, and as Eudora pushed through them, she found that she was very glad that she was wearing Emily’s bonnet instead of her own.
“A marchioness can afford a few new ribbons,” she said aloud to assuage her guilt as she untangled herself from a particularly thorny branch. She took another step, but her boot connected with something rather soft but very big, causing her to jump back in fright.
“What on earth?” she whispered, and she glanced down to find the body of an elderly gentleman lying at her feet.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN LORD ROBERTDelaney, Baron Bloomsbury, had set off for Plumpton, it was with the intention of seeing Miss Mifford. He had imagined catching her eye over the dinner table in Plumpton Hall or snatching a moment’s alone time on a walk around the grounds.
He had not imagined first seeing her as he journeyed there, emerging from a bush, bonnet charmingly askew, and calling for help.
“Miss Mifford,” Robert cried, tugging the reins of his mount to bring the beast to a halt, “Whatever’s the matter?”
Miss Mifford paused and looked up at him, her expression momentarily confused as she realised who had addressed her.
“I found a body,” she stated, gesticulating wildly to the bush from which she had just emerged, “A dead one.”
“Are you certain?” Robert asked as he dismounted his saddle. He realised too late that his question sounded rather condescending, so he rushed to clarify himself.
