Murder at a Boarding School: A 1920s Cozy Mystery by Rosie Hunt

Author:Rosie Hunt [Hunt, Rosie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rosie Hunt
Published: 2024-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

If it weren’t for the swift and competent actions of Miss Driver and Miss Eversley, would Cecily have survived?

As Miss Eversley administered first aid, Miss Driver fetched one of the school’s Lanchesters to rush the girl to the hospital in Exeter, her old ambulance driving expertise coming into use. Miss Armstrong arrived from settling Jane in her room just in time to join Miss Driver, replacing Miss Eversley on the back seat of the motor with Cecily draped over her lap.

The male servants and estate workers who’d partaken in the dancing demonstration, including Alex, quickly departed from the ballroom. Felicity, Miss Petherick, and Miss Vincent helped guide the students back to their rooms. The girls were in an oddly giddy mood, chattering and giggling nervously about what they’d seen. None of them felt the full weight of the situation. None except those closest to Cecily.

“She complained of a pain in her chest. I urged her to take another sip of champagne.”

Tears welled at the corners of Gwendoline’s ice-blue eyes as Felicity escorted her into the final-year common room, a gentle hand at the girl’s elbow.

“And then she fell forward,” continued Gwendoline, turning from Felicity to where Dolores and Usha were seated in silence on a red velvet chaise longue. Like Gwendoline, they were still in their silky white gowns, their faces grim. The common room’s tall windows revealed a blanket of low grey cloud above the gardens.

“I don’t understand what happened.” A tear ran down Gwendoline’s cheek. She looked up from the soft leather armchair into which Felicity had deposited her. “Will she be all right?”

“Lady Cecily is receiving the best possible care,” assured Felicity. It was the only information she had. Felicity had questions of her own to put to the girls, but they were in a state of shock. Added to that, a group of first-year students further down the corridor had begun a pillow fight while still in their ballgowns, goose feathers flying everywhere. As a teacher, Felicity had a duty to intervene.

Miss Eversley, who had already changed back into her habitual tweeds, joined her in the effort.

With the first-year students wrangled back into their rooms and instructed to help one another in removing their gowns, Felicity paused in the corridor with Miss Eversley.

“Is there any news on Lady Cecily?” asked Felicity.

Miss Eversley nodded. “Her condition is stable. Miss Driver and Miss Armstrong will remain at her side.” She shook her head a little. She still looked unsettled. “It was as if she were having a heart attack. I’ve never seen it in one so young.”

Felicity bit her lip. She said nothing more. The symptoms of a heart attack could be brought on with digitalis. Yet Miss Petherick hadn’t once moved from the piano.

What was going on?

Felicity considered telephoning Alex. He’d no doubt returned to his home in Exeter by now, but the phone booths were exceedingly busy, news of Cecily’s collapse no doubt spreading to all corners of the land.

That night, after a subdued dinner, with many girls choosing to remain in their rooms, Felicity found it hard to sleep.

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