01 - Murder at Ashgrove House Read Online Free

she had made in the dress shop. The
other shop girls had not known what to make of her and were definitely working
class, whereas Rose had appeared at ease in her presence. She would even hazard
a guess that Rose was originally from the middle classes although, from what
she could gather, her family had now fallen on hard times.  Horrid Sylvia
had made a point of either ignoring Lavinia completely or being rude to her
when Madame Renard’s back was turned, and Mary had gone to the other extreme,
hanging on her every word and trying to show her everything and do everything
for her, when all she had wanted was to be treated like just any other shop
girl, well not quite, of course, she didn’t want to do anything too boring or
back breaking or mundane. Only Rose had treated her normally and had been
genuinely friendly. She had probably been as fascinated by her as Mary had been
but, unlike Mary, she had not felt intimated by her, or felt the need to try
and please her. No, she liked the friendship she had with Rose because she felt
that Rose liked her for herself.     
     
    ‘Excuse me, m’lady,’ Stafford gave a little cough and half bowed towards
her ladyship. Lady Withers, who had been in the process of arranging some
flowers rather haphazardly in a vase, jumped, knocking the vase over, water and
flowers spilling out on to the table and floor.
    ‘Oh, Stafford, now look what you’ve made me do! I do wish you wouldn’t
creep up on one so, it isn’t natural. Why can’t you make a noise like everyone
else?’
    ‘Quite so, m’lady, please forgive me. I’ll arrange for Martha to clear up
straightaway.’
    Although certainly not his intention to make her ladyship start, he
thought on reflection that the outcome was not disastrous. After all, he always
sent Martha to rearrange the flowers whenever Lady Withers took it upon herself
to start flower arranging. Her ladyship, in his opinion, had many fine
qualities, but arranging flowers in a vase was not one of them. Of course, when
only Sir William and Lady Withers were at Ashgrove it did not matter so much
because Lady Withers always thought her flower arrangements looked wonderful
and Sir William was not one to notice such things, but when guests were
staying, and titled ones at that … Stafford almost grimaced despite himself,
that would never do at all. ‘But I thought you’d like to know m’lady,’ he
continued, ‘as soon as I had been informed.’
    ‘Informed of what, Stafford? Oh, do stop talking in riddles or drawing
things out.’ Lady Withers sunk into a nearby chair and dabbed at her wet hands
ineffectually with her handkerchief. ‘Out with it, Stafford. What was this
thing that was so important to tell me that you had to sneak up on me and worry
me half to death?’
    ‘Yes, m’lady, very sorry m’lady.’ Had Lady Withers looked at him instead
of busying herself with drying her fingers she would have seen that, despite
his tone, he did not look particularly contrite. ‘I thought you’d like to know,
m’lady, that I’ve just taken a telephone call from Sedgwick Court. It appears
that the Earl and Countess of Belvedere are on their way down.’
    ‘On their way down, whatever do you mean, on their way down?’ Lady
Withers had stopped dabbing at her fingers, her handkerchief now clutched in
one hand that was beginning to tremble. 
    ‘It appears, m’lady, that the Earl and Countess have it in mind to stay
the weekend, here at Ashgrove.’     
    ‘What!’ The handkerchief was flung to the floor as Lady Withers sprang up
from her seat with a speed that surprised even Stafford, although he was
careful as always not to show it.
    ‘William! William!’ Stafford was just in time to rush over to the door
and hold it open for Lady Withers as she fled from the room in search of her
husband. Such was her distress that she did not wait until she had found him,
before starting her conversation. ‘Oh, William, William, it’s so awful.
Stafford