Death Among the Diamonds: A totally addictive cozy murder mystery (A Cressida Fawcett Mystery Book 1) by Fliss Chester

Author:Fliss Chester [Chester, Fliss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803146447
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-09-20T16:00:00+00:00

23

Feeling slightly bruised, ego-wise at least, from her run-in with Andrews, Cressida decided to investigate something completely different for a bit. Namely, the noise she could hear coming from the ballroom. It was a cacophony of shouts, crashes and ‘ooohs’, and Cressida rightly surmised that it was all due to the curtains, ghastly as they were, being hung.

‘Ruby, t’is a sad day indeed, and not just because Major Elliot has died. Those curtains really should never have seen the light of day, let alone be responsible for dressing this beautiful room once the light of the day is over,’ Cressida whispered to her pup as she entered the room.

‘Cressida dear, thank goodness you’re here,’ Lady Chatterton beckoned her over. ‘These chaps are doing their best, but the curtains – and I know you’ll have something to say about them – simply will not hang correctly.’

Cressida put Ruby down and let her waddle off to sit by the fireplace. ‘I can’t blame the pattern of the fabric for the way they hang though, however much I’d like to. Who made them up for you?’

‘The usual people. They did a splendid job of the ones in the drawing room and the silk drapes in your Blue Room. I can’t imagine what might be making these ones crinkle and catch.’

Cressida nodded in agreement. The curtains in her bedroom here at Chatterton Court, The Blue Room, and the ones in the drawing room, were made perfectly, not a stitch out of place. But Lady Chatterton was right; the curtains that the workmen were currently struggling to hang from the high rails above the great sash windows didn’t sit right at all as they skimmed the wooden parquet floor. Cressida, careful of the scaffolding tower and the workmen leaning off it in order to access the rail above her, ran her hand down the silk. The lining felt luxurious and well stitched in, the inside hem of the curtains bearing no sign of sloppy workmanship or poor stitching. The pattern of the garish purple and gold stripes seemed to hang straight, it was only at the bottom that they dipped and crinkled.

‘Well, I suppose it’s another reason, if one were needed, to make sure that they’re taken down as soon as possible and replaced. Speaking of which, I telephoned my friend Maurice Sauvage at Liberty and have asked him to look out for something suitable. Damask perhaps? Or a touch of florals?’

‘Yes, dear, do what you can.’ Lady Chatterton, pale-faced against the black woollen skirt suit she was wearing, looked thoroughly spent, exhausted by the whole thing, and Cressida paused to consider what the poor lady had been through over the last few days. Not only had she coped with the horror of having two deaths in the household, one of which was of a very dear friend, but she’d also had her bedroom ransacked, her jewellery stolen, her guests questioned and her home taken over by policemen.

Cressida placed a hand at Lady Chatterton’s elbow and guided her over to the chairs by the fireplace.

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