Nobbled at Christmas (A Right Royal Cozy Investigation Mystery): A whodunnit with a hint of humour by Helen Golden

Author:Helen Golden [Golden, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Drew Bradley Press
Published: 2025-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

10

A HOUSEMAID’S CONFESSION…

Lottie McBride’s hands twisted in her lap, her fingers interlacing and separating in a ceaseless dance of anxiety.

Bea leaned forward, her voice gentle. “Lottie, are you all right? You seem a bit shaken.”

The girl’s head jerked up, her eyes darting briefly to Pembroke before returning to Bea. “Yes, my lady. I’m fine, thank you.”

She stilled her hands, but Daisy wasn’t fooled. She's definitely not fine. The fear-smell had intensified, mixing with something else—a sour note of guilt that made Daisy’s fur prickle along her spine. Is she the dog-napper? Have we caught the villain? Except she didn’t look like a villain… more like a scared rabbit.

Bea continued, “I won’t keep you long. I just have a few questions about this morning.”

Lottie swallowed, a crimson stain appearing on her cheeks.

She’s definitely guilty of something…

“Have you noticed any strangers around the house or grounds today? Anyone who shouldn’t be here?” Bea asked.

“Strangers, my lady?” Her hands relaxed. “No, I don’t think so.”

The housemaid’s shoulders had lowered a fraction, and her breathing slowed a little.

Daisy watched Bea expectantly. Surely now, Bea would ask the obvious question about the Scottish voice on the ransom call? Aren't you going to ask about that? If Ethan thought Lottie could do a convincing Scottish accent, surely that warranted immediate questioning.

But she didn’t. Instead, she asked, “Did you happen to see Ria MacKenzie today? The woman who delivers the dog treats?”

Lottie nodded at once—no fear, no hesitation. “Oh yes, my lady. She was talking to Ethan and… one of the footmen. I saw her as I said goodbye to Ryan and the bulldogs.”

Bea nodded thoughtfully, seemingly satisfied.

Daisy was not satisfied.

Daisy stared hard at her human. Hello? She even has a Scottish name, Bea!

“I see,” Bea said. “And did Ria seem her normal self to you? Nothing unusual about her behaviour?”

Lottie shrugged. “She seemed the same as always. A bit flustered maybe, carrying too many bags. But that’s just how she is.”

“And what time was that, approximately?” Bea asked.

Daisy hid her head in her paws. Has she not remembered that Lottie does a Scottish accent? It was unlike Bea to forget something so important.

Lottie’s brow furrowed in concentration. “About five past eleven, I think. I was on my way to…” She hesitated, then continued, “er, clean the Blue Salon.”

The girl’s breathing had quickened again, and her eyes briefly flicked to Pembroke, who stood impassive as ever by the door.

Daisy looked up at Bea with growing confusion, then she straightened her small white body and fixed Bea with her most intense stare. Come on. Ask it! Ask it! She smells scared. Something is wrong with her. Ask about the accent!

Bea glanced down at Daisy, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Then she turned back to Lottie. “I’ve heard that you do quite a good impression of Ria’s father, the gamekeeper. Is that right?”

Finally! Daisy settled back on her haunches with satisfaction. My subtle guidance has worked.

Lottie’s eyes widened in surprise, then she darted a nervous glance at Pembroke.

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