A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder. Dianne Freeman

the housekeeper, Mrs. Ansel, pushed through the baize door at the end of the hall and called out to me. She rushed forward with some urgency.

      “Yes, Mrs. Ansel? Is something wrong?”

      “My lady, there’s a terrible ruckus below stairs, and I’m afraid I just can’t settle everyone down. Mr. Hazelton has been gone since dawn, and Lady Fiona took the rest of the guests on a jaunt early this morning, so there’s been no one about while all the staff is screaming bloody murder.”

      How strange. The staff had seemed so disciplined, it must be quite a crisis to have set them all off. I turned and walked with her toward the service door. “Of course, I’ll do what I can, Mrs. Ansel. What exactly happened?”

      She raised troubled eyes to mine and heaved a sigh. “One of our footmen died during the night, and some are saying it’s murder.”

      Chapter 6

      Murder? Good heavens!

      Mrs. Ansel set a brisk pace through the gallery back to the north wing, and through the service door to the kitchen and the servants’ hall. It did indeed appear to be in chaos despite the sharp words from the butler who stood with his back to us. Two young maids, probably from the kitchen, huddled together in the corner, while tears streamed down their faces. An older woman sat at the table, her face buried in her hands, while two footmen argued over her head. Several of the other staff muttered among themselves. The butler looked on in horror, clapping his hands in a fruitless bid for order.

      I raised my voice to speak above the din. “I understand you’ve suffered a tragedy.” The butler, Crocker, swung around, and upon recognizing me, a wave of relief cleared the displeasure from his expression. Everyone scrambled to their feet and silence fell on the room.

      “Is it true one of your footmen has passed away?”

      He nodded. “Yes, my lady. It appears he died in his room last night or early this morning.”

      “Has someone sent for a doctor? And Mr. Hazelton?”

      “We have sent for the doctor, but not Mr. Hazelton as yet. He did not leave word where the shoot was taking place today. I was just about to have someone inquire of Mr. Tuttle.”

      One of the footmen who’d been in the shouting match approached us. “I heard one of the gentlemen at breakfast this morning say where they were shooting. Shall I run and fetch Mr. Hazelton?”

      “Go to the stables and send one of the grooms for him,” Crocker said. “Make sure the groom tells him what has happened and that we are in need of his assistance.”

      The young man bobbed his head and made off. I wondered how distorted the story would be by the time George received it. I motioned for Mr. Crocker and Mrs. Ansel to join me off to the side of the room. “Now tell me, why is the staff in such a state? Who called it murder and can it be true?”

      Mrs. Ansel cast a worried glance at the butler. “Mr. Crocker,” I prompted. “Did the footman not die peacefully in his sleep?”

      “No, ma’am.” The lines in his forehead deepened. “The lad was clearly ill, violently ill even. We are short one footman, so he did not share a room with anyone. Mores the pity, for then we could have called a doctor in sooner.”

      “I see. This is a somber event. I can understand why the staff is so distressed, but why the uproar? Why did someone call it murder?”

      Mrs. Ansel made a grunt of disgust. “They’re saying he must have eaten something that made him so sick. Some are pointing a finger at our cook, saying she poisoned his food.”

      Her remark left me speechless. Someone dies, and members of the household are prepared to suspect one of their own of murder? I couldn’t imagine my staff acting in such a manner. “Have they any reason to believe she’d do such a thing? It sounds rather foolish to me since all evidence would point directly back to her.”

      “No reason at all, ma’am.” Mrs. Ansel spoke up when the butler remained silent. “I don’t know why they’d make such foolish claims. It all seemed to grow out of nothing. First, three of the maids left the house, shouting about Russian influenza. The under-butler called that a convenient excuse, a way to cover poisoning.” She fluttered her hands helplessly. “Someone suggested one of the maids poisoned him. The next thing I know, everyone’s looking at the cook with a suspicious eye.”

      What an odd group. “I’m sorry you’ve had to bear this burden. Once the doctor has arrived and given his verdict, send word to those maids that they should return to their duties.”

      Crocker gasped and looked at me in horror. “After abandoning their posts, you’d bring them back?”

      “Lady Fiona may feel differently, but once the doctor can assure them there’s no fear of contagion, we should allow them back. I can understand the girls’ concern after all. Do you recall how quickly the Russian flu spread? I can hardly blame them for running off. As for Cook, well, accidents do happen, but it would seem unlikely a bad bit of meat would affect only one of you.”

      I took in the handful of staff in the common room. “Has everyone else returned to their duties?”

      “Most of us were already going about our business when we heard the news.” Mrs. Ansel fidgeted with her cuffs. “Mr. Crocker set everyone else back to work. Mrs. Humphries’s girls are at a loss without her guidance.” She nodded at the cook. “And I can’t say why the footmen are still milling about.” She raised her voice, causing the two footmen to look up, then scramble to the door. I’d have stopped them, but what was the point? If someone on the staff had caused the footman’s death, he’d had plenty of time to cover his tracks by now.

      Mrs. Humphries drew a shuddering breath. “Try to calm her, Mrs. Ansel. I daresay, the doctor will be here soon and will likely exonerate her of all wrongdoing.”

      In fact, it was the doctor I expected to see when I turned at the sound of boots on the stairs. Instead, it was George who rounded the corner, his face full of alarm. His gaze took me in.

      “Frances, er, Lady Harleigh, have I heard right? Has someone died?”

      “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hazelton, but yes, you did hear correctly.” I explained the whole of my knowledge of the matter in a few short sentences. “The doctor should be here soon.”

      He nodded. “I’ll check on the lad in the meantime.”

      Crocker made as if to lead the way, but I placed a hand on George’s arm. “Do you think that’s wise? What if it was influenza?”

      He shook his head. “I’ve heard nothing of influenza in the county, and I’d like to see for myself what happened to the young man.”

      “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

      He stopped and gave me a quizzical look. “I thought you were concerned about influenza?”

      “But you’ve just said that’s not possible.”

      His brows drew together as he turned and placed a hand on his hip in a show of impatience. “I didn’t call it impossible, just highly unlikely.”

      “If highly unlikely will do for you, it will do for me.” I gave him a look that dared him to say no.

      “It won’t be a pretty sight, Lady Harleigh.”

      “We have cleaned up the room, sir.”

      George threw a glance at the butler. “Have you removed the body?”

      Crocker took a step back. “No, sir.”

      George pursed his lips and turned to me, leaning in close. “I think you had better stay down here.”

      By no means did I wish to be in a small room with a dead body, but I truly hated to be coddled. I gave George a look of deepest disdain. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen a dead body before. I’m coming with you.”