Murder at a Funeral: A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (The Kitty Worthington Mysteries) by Magda Alexander

Author:Magda Alexander [Alexander, Magda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hearts Afire Publishing
Published: 2024-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

THE DRESSMAKER AND THE PUB

The following day after breakfast, I said goodbye to Ned. As busy as Worthington & Son was, he couldn’t be spared for more than two days.

After driving him to the rail station, the chauffeur returned to Rutledge Castle to drive Robert and me into Chipping Bliss. And then he proceeded with Hollingsworth to Upton, the village where the marriage between Robert’s father and Susan Rutland had taken place. Finally, he would head to the railway station to meet the solicitor’s train.

I did not join Robert at the apothecary. My female intuition would not be needed for that interview. Instead, I headed to the dressmaker shop. Past experience with my modiste had shown me this would be the best place to discover the town gossip about the murder victim as well as other tidbits of interest.

The proprietor was a lovely woman with flaming red hair who went by the name of Mrs. Bretton. As soon as I walked into the shop, she and her assistant Jenny welcomed me with open arms.

“Would you like some tea, dearie?” Mrs. Bretton asked. “We have some lovely biscuits as well. Mabel’s Cozy Tearoom prepares them fresh daily.”

“What a charming name. Yes, I’d love some.” Even though I’d recently eaten breakfast, I gladly accepted the offer. Tittle-tattle was best lubricated with a cup of tea.

When I turned the subject to Freya Poole, Mrs. Bretton didn’t hesitate to offer her opinion. “She was a regular curtain twitcher, she was, always into other people’s business.”

“Anyone in particular?” I asked after nibbling on a lovely biscuit.

“Well, as of lately, she had developed a romantic fixation on the vicar.”

“Vicar Mayfield?”

“The very one. When he gently turned her down, she turned her vile ways on him.”

“What did she say?”

“She claimed he and the curate enjoyed an unnatural liaison. At the vicarage, no less. Can you imagine? Vicar Mayfield is fifty if he’s a day, and Mister Lawson is in his mid-thirties.”

“How very shocking! How did the vicar respond?”

“He preached about false rumors every other Sunday. A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall perish. That’s from Proverbs 19. Not that it did a bit of good. Freya continued to spew her poison every chance she got.”

“How perfectly awful.” I sipped the delicious tea. “What about her brother? What’s your opinion of him?”

“A wrong ‘un, through and through. His father beat him because he was slow. And Freya? Not an ounce of sisterly affection for him. She enjoyed watching the punishment.”

Heavens! The woman had been downright evil. “Any inkling why she was that way?”

“Well, her mother abandoned them, left them to the care of that awful man. Rumor has it he beat her. I think Freya snitched on her brother to keep him from using the strap on her as well.”

“Was anyone ever interested in her? In a romantic fashion?”

“Not really. Everyone knew her for a shrew. She was sweet on a man once, though. The former marquis. The very spitting image of your man he was, or so I heard.

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