EMPTY NEST an utterly charming English birding murder mystery by MARTY WINGATE

Author:MARTY WINGATE [WINGATE, MARTY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books cozy mysteries and crime
Published: 2024-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

No family photos adorned the walls and mantels, registering the years that Isabel had lived at Hoggin Hall, only snapshots of Cecil as a boy, so how was I to know?

I kept up my bright and cheery professional manner despite the unaccountable pounding of my heart. “Yes, of course. Very nice to meet you, Lady Fotheringill. I’m the manager of the Tourist Information Center in the village.”

“Please do call me Isabel. Cecil has told me about you and the amazing work you’re doing.”

Somehow that sounded a bit extreme for Cecil. “Well, thank you. We’ve a fantastic group of people working on events — that’s the secret of our success.”

I started back on my mess, but Sheila pulled a broom from the cupboard and shooed me off. “Here now, I’ll take care of that. You’d best go change.”

Brown tea spots now decorated my blouse like polka dots. “Yes, right.” I moved to the door, and Isabel shifted slightly so that I could pass her. “I’ll see you at dinner,” I said.

“Will you?” she asked with a note of surprise.

* * *

I shut the door to my room and slipped off my shoes. What would I wear to dinner? Isabel had been quite turned out, and I felt compelled — as the only other woman at the table — to meet the challenge. My black trousers were none the worse for the tea spill. I was studying a gray silk jumper when Sheila knocked and came in.

“Are you all right?” she asked, handing me a fresh cup of tea.

“I’m fine.”

She blushed crimson. “We were taken quite by surprise this morning,” she said. “I don’t think even Master Cecil knew she was coming. And his Lordship, the poor man, he was gobsmacked, to be sure.”

“She doesn’t visit often, I take it?”

I thought how odd it was we were talking about Isabel without naming her.

“I haven’t seen her in nearly two years. Occasionally she would accompany Master Cecil when he came for his summer holidays, but she never stayed long. Always had somewhere else to be.”

“And she’s never remarried?”

“And cease being Lady Fotheringill?” Sheila shook her head. “Mind you, she’s always had an admirer or two — someone to whisk her off to Switzerland or Monaco or some such place. There now,” she said, her cheeks red, “I’ve said enough. Give me that blouse, and I’ll get those tea stains out.”

I pulled the top off over my head. “I can do it, Sheila, leave it for me.”

“I know you can, but I’ve barely anything to do to look after you — allow me this one thing.” She walked to the door. “That is, if the laundry room isn’t already occupied. When I walked in a bit ago, Lady Fotheringill was starting a wash of her own clothes. There’s a change in the world order.”

Sheila Bugg had never said a word against Isabel since I’d known her, but now that the lady herself was in the house, the housekeeper fairly bristled with indignation. After

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