Four Funerals and Maybe a Wedding Page 27

  “Poor Mr. Broadbent,” I said.

  “And I’ll give you another reason,” the inspector went on. “While neighbors thought a batty and difficult old woman was living at the house, they’d stay well away.”

  “I don’t suppose we’ll ever know if Mr. Rogers was pushed down those stairs or it was a simple accident,” I went on thoughtfully. “And what about Plunkett? Have you found out who he really was?”

  The chief inspector nodded. “We have. His name really was Edward Plunkett. He was the nephew of the Charles Plunkett who had been a butler. Edward Plunkett had been a footman and then went to jail for some petty pilfering. When he came out he stayed with his uncle, who then died. We don’t know if young Plunkett aided the death. It may just have been old age. But Edward Plunkett found the letter of recommendation and used it to get himself a plum job. However”—he looked up and wagged a finger at us—“one of Birdman’s gang recognized Plunkett from jail and held that over him to move in and take over the house.”

  “I see,” I said. “And the gardeners? Were they part of the gang?”

  “No, Plunkett hired them. They were both petty criminals and I think they soon found they were in over their heads. Now they’ll be tried as accessories too.”

  “So they all deserved each other,” I said. “What a relief that they are gone. Everything is going wonderfully smoothly now.”

  “And your wedding is coming up.”

  “It is.”

  “And your young man?” He looked around.

  “He’s gone back to London. Propriety, you know.”

  DCI Garland laughed. “Of course. It’s all right to have a gang of thieves in the house as long as there is no hanky-panky.” And I laughed too.

  After I watched him drive away I stood at the front door, watching the fountain playing in the late afternoon sunlight, thinking about the strangeness of what had just occurred. Four deaths within a week. Two weddings canceled. I had been breezy and optimistic, but deep inside I really did worry that it might be a bad omen for my wedding. I wished that Darcy was still with me. And more than that I wished the wedding was safely over and I was happily married and on my honeymoon. I gave a sigh, closed the door and went back into the house.

  * * *

  THE NEXT WEEK I went up to London for another fitting for my dress. Belinda had surpassed herself! It really was going to look stunning, and so right for me. Not too girlish but with classic lines that made the most of my slim figure and height. I actually felt quite glamorous with that train swirling out behind me.

  “Belinda, you are a genius,” I said.

  “And you wait until you see the bridesmaids’ dresses,” she said.

  We took them over to the home of the Duke and Duchess of York at 145 Piccadilly and the princesses tried them on. Elizabeth twirled around in hers. “I really feel like a princess in this,” she said.

  Little Margaret looked at her with scorn. “You already are a princess, silly!”

  * * *

  A WEEK BEFORE the wedding we were sitting at tea at Eynsleigh when there was a thunderous knock at the front door. Mrs. Holbrook went and I heard her shriek of delight. Curiosity got the better of me and I went to the sitting room door. Sir Hubert, looking tanned and healthy, stood in the front hall.

  “The master is home!” Mrs. Holbrook exclaimed. “He’s come home!”

  He held out his arms to me and I ran toward him. “What a lovely surprise,” I said.

  “Well, I couldn’t miss your wedding, could I?” he said, enveloping me in a big bear hug.

  “But how did you manage it? All the way from South America?”

  He gave a deep rumbling laugh that tickled my cheek. “It’s a wonderful little device called an aeroplane. Or rather quite a few aeroplanes. I flew from Buenos Aires to Rio, from Rio to Miami, from Miami to New York, from New York to Newfoundland, from there to Shannon, on to London and here I am.”

  “Golly,” I said. “How brilliant. I am so happy to see you,” I said.

  “Everything going well at the house?” he asked. “Are you enjoying country life?”

  “Now I am,” I said.

  He gave me a questioning look.

  “You didn’t get a cable from the embassy in Buenos Aires?” I asked. “They tried to locate you.”

  “No, I didn’t. I left the Argentine three weeks ago. So what’s been wrong?”

  “Come and have some tea and I’ll tell you.”

  I led him through to the sitting room. He paused in the doorway, frowning. “Where’s the picture of the man on the horse?” he asked.

  “Long story,” my mother said.

  Sir Hubert noticed her for the first time. “Claire?” he said.

  “Hubert.” She stood up, a radiant smile on her face, her arms extended to him. “How absolutely lovely to see you.” She came toward him and they hugged. I have to say that my suspicion was confirmed that she might be hedging her bets, in case Max did not return!

  He pulled up a chair. Mummy poured him a cup of tea and he heard the whole story.

  “My dear girl.” He reached out and put his hand on mine. “What an ordeal. And what a fiendishly clever scheme. Thank God it’s all over now. We’ll find a new lot of servants—and double-check their references—and we can start afresh.”

  Then, of course, I remembered his mother and tried to tell him as tactfully as possible. He was silent for a while. Then he shook his head. “Silly old thing. I don’t know why she wanted to come back here in the first place. She never liked this house. And I imagine she would have been a big shock to the gang who were holed up here. She was never very tolerant.” He managed a smile. “But I suppose I can’t regret her passing too much. She was eighty-five after all.”

  * * *

  THREE DAYS BEFORE the wedding I left Mummy and Granddad and went up to Rannoch House, taking Queenie with me. I was pleasantly surprised at the way my family had thrown themselves into the task with enthusiasm. The house positively sparkled. There were flowers everywhere (and lots of interesting packages sitting on the table in the drawing room). Given the large number of attendees, the ballroom at the back of the house had been opened up, the chandeliers glittered and little groups of white-clothed tables and chairs had been hired for the occasion, both in the ballroom and in the garden beyond if the weather was fine. It all looked very grand.

  Fig was being almost civil to me. I suspect she was glad that I’d finally be off her hands once and for all. She came into my bedroom bearing an old leather box. “Here you are, Georgie. The family tiara. It was given to your grandmother on her wedding day by Queen Victoria.”

  She opened the box and I saw the sparkle of diamonds. We tried it on and decided it went well with my hair. It was also rather heavy, but I didn’t think I’d notice on the day. I’d be worrying too much about not tripping over my train.

  “Now that you will be a married woman, you are entitled to wear it on formal occasions,” she said. “You might as well put it in the bank down here. God knows I have few enough occasions to wear it in Scotland.”

  Then we went up to the nursery, where Podge and Addy greeted me with whoops of delight.

  “Auntie Georgie. I’m going to be a page boy,” Podge said. “Come and see my new kilt.”

  “I page boy too!” Addy insisted.

  “You can’t. You’re a girl. And there is no such thing as page girls,” Podge said with scorn.

  “You will wear a pretty dress and flowers in your hair,” I said. “You’ll be like Cinderella.”

  “Oh yes. Me Cinderella.” She looked very pleased.

  Then it was down to the kitchen, where Mrs. McPherson showed me the wedding cake. It looked amazingly professional. “You are a miracle worker, Mrs. McPherson,” I said.

  “I added plenty of brandy to the fruit for good measure,” she said, blushing with modest pleasure at my praise. “And we’re going to put real gardenias on the top, along with the statues of the bride and groom.”

  Zou Zou came over with two cases of Veuve Clicquot. “In case you run short of bubbly, darlings,” she said. “And I have to tell you, Georgie, I saw Darcy trying on his morning suit today and he looks absolutely gorgeous in it. I almost wished I’d snapped him up myself.”

  “When is his father arriving?” I asked.

  “He’s here, darling. Arrived yesterday. And he looks rather yummy in his suit too.” She gave me a little smile. “In fact, we’ll make a handsome couple—as long as Mrs. Simpson doesn’t wear the same dress as me!”

  “We didn’t invite her,” I said. “Not with the king and queen in attendance. He’s been so ill, poor dear, that the sight of her might give him a stroke.”

  Zou Zou chuckled. Then she said, “What’s this I hear about Darcy taking a desk job?”

  “Yes. He seemed quite pleased about having a regular schedule for once.”

  “Do you really think so?” she asked.

  No more was said, but I realized how perceptive she was.

  Two days before the wedding we had to have a complete rehearsal with Her Majesty’s secretary. There was so much protocol involved about when and how Their Majesties should enter, where they should sit, how I should curtsy as I passed them. All quite alarming and fraught with opportunities for things to go wrong. After an exhausting hour, Darcy and I escaped across Park Lane and walked together in Hyde Park.

  “Did you ever think it would turn into a three-ring circus?” Darcy asked.

  “Don’t blame me. I didn’t invite them; they invited themselves,” I said. “I am still wishing we had eloped.” I took a deep breath. “So about this new job . . .”

  “It won’t start until we return from our honeymoon,” he said.

  “Have you definitely accepted it?”

  “Not exactly,” he said, staring straight ahead.

  We paused in the shade of a spreading chestnut tree. “You don’t want it, do you?” I asked. “You enjoy your life as it is. You like never knowing where you’ll be sent and what you’ll be doing.”

  “Georgie, I’m going to be a married man with responsibilities,” he said. “We need a steady income. And you’ve said yourself that I can’t go flitting off around the world and leaving you for long periods of time.”

  “I can’t say I’m thrilled about it,” I said, “but I don’t want you to take a job where you’d be miserable, just because of me.”

  He took me into his arms. “You’re very sweet, do you know that? Let’s not talk about it until after the wedding; then we’ll decide.”

  I nodded.

  “I won’t see you again until you walk up the aisle to me,” he said. “It’s my stag night tomorrow and God knows what the boys have planned.”

  “Don’t you dare come to our wedding with a hangover, Darcy O’Mara,” I said.

  He laughed. “It takes a good deal of drink to leave me with a hangover. Just as long as we don’t wind up in jail.”

  “Darcy!” I exclaimed in horror.

  He gave me a little kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry. My father will be coming along. He’ll make sure I behave myself.”

  “Your father drinks more than you do!”

  Darcy merely grinned.

  Chapter 38

  SATURDAY, JULY 27

  My wedding day! At last.

  The day arrived. Mummy and Granddad came up from the country with Sir Hubert. I noticed that Mummy had given up any pretense of mourning and instead had a stunning sheath dress of pale blue silk with a sweeping ostrich feather in her hat. I noticed Sir Hubert giving her some stealthy and appreciative glances. Granddad looked distinguished in a morning suit, hired for the occasion. Mummy came up to my room to help with my hair and makeup.

  “I can’t believe my little girl is getting married,” she said, looking quite misty-eyed. “I’m so glad everything worked out for you.”

  “I’m sure it will for you too.” I squeezed her hand.

  “Blimey, miss, you don’t half look a treat,” Queenie said as Mummy helped me arrange my veil and then secure the tiara.

  “Now I just need the white satin shoes,” I said.

  “Bob’s yer uncle.” She fished around; then she said, “I can find one of them.” She held it out to me.

  I felt a shiver of alarm. “Then find the other.”

  “It don’t seem to be here,” she said.

  I tried to stay calm. “Queenie. You can’t have lost one of my shoes. How am I going to walk down the aisle? I can’t hop.”

  She and Mummy rummaged around, opening drawers, looking under the bed, but to no avail. “Where can it be? It can’t just have vanished. You couldn’t have thrown it away, could you, Queenie?”

  “I wouldn’t do no stupid thing like that,” she said hotly; then a strange look came over her face. “Remember when we went over to Miss Belinda’s for the final fitting? We took the shoes, didn’t we? So she could get the hem right. I reckon we must have left one there,” Queenie said.

  “We must have? Queenie, I brought you to look after my things for me. You were supposed to pack everything up.”

  “Sorry, miss. It was a bit higgledy-piggledy in that room. I suppose it’s a bit late to pop over there and see if I can find it?”

  “She’ll have already left for the church,” I said. I was nearly in tears. “I can’t walk down the aisle in ordinary day shoes.”

  “Don’t worry, darling,” Mummy said. “Let me see if I have something.” She darted along the hall to her room, then came back with white leather pumps. “The best I can do, but at least they are white.”

  I tried them on. They were very tight on me but better than nothing. “Now I’ll have to hobble up the aisle,” I said.

  Queenie looked quite crestfallen. “I’ll go over to Miss Belinda’s, find the shoe and bring it to the church,” she said. “Then at least you’ll have it to wear afterward.”

  “Yes. I suppose her maid will be there, if she still has a maid, that is.” I was still fighting back tears. “Take a taxicab. Here.” I handed her some coins from my purse.

  Queenie departed. Mummy and Granddad left in their car. Now it was just Binky and me. I tapped on his door. “Binky, are you ready yet?”

  No answer.

  Cautiously I opened his door. The room was empty. Golly—Binky couldn’t have gone without me, could he? I knew he was a trifle absent-minded but . . . I rang for a servant. Hamilton appeared. “You rang, my lady?”

  “You haven’t seen His Grace, have you, Hamilton? We are supposed to be leaving for the church.”

  “I haven’t seen him for a while, my lady. I’ll go and look for him.”

  Now I was really worried. Surely Binky wasn’t clueless enough to have gone off in one of the other cars.

  “Binky?” I called, my voice echoing around the hallway and up the stairs. Then I thought I heard someone knocking. I followed the sound up the stairs, walking with great caution with my train and veil behind me and shoes that hurt.

  “Binky?” I called again.

  “In here!” came the voice from the third-floor bathroom. I made my way up the next flight of stairs.

  “What are you doing in the bathroom up here?” I shouted through the closed door. “Are you all right?”

  “The one on our floor was busy all the time so I popped up here for some peace and quiet,” he said. “A bit nervous, you know. And when I tried to come out I went to turn the blasted key and it dropped out of my hand and down a crack in the floorboards.”

  “Oh crikey.” I tried to turn the knob on my side of the door. It wouldn’t move. It was well and truly locked.

  “If I pass you some tweezers under the door could you retrieve the key?”

  “I don’t think so. I heard it land quite a way down. It’s a bloody rum do, isn’t it?” he said.

  “A bloody rum do? It’s a disaster, Binky. We should have left by now. We’ll be keeping the king and queen waiting and you know what they are like about being on time.”

  “Sorry, old thing. You know I get clumsy when I’m nervous.”

  Obviously that ran in the family. “I’ll get Hamilton.”

  Hamilton came. “His Grace has dropped the key down the floorboards, Hamilton. Do you have an extra key?”

  “I will bring all the keys I have, my lady,” he said, betraying no sense of alarm in good butler fashion.

  He returned with several footmen. A couple of maids stood on the stairs, looking on with interest. None of the keys worked. “I think we need a locksmith, Your Grace,” Hamilton said.

  “Bugger the locksmith,” Binky yelled through the door. “Get a hammer. Break down the bloody door!”

  * * *

  “DON’T WORRY ABOUT it, old thing,” Binky said as we finally drove off. “Brides are supposed to be fashionably late.”

  “That’s fine if the king and queen aren’t in attendance,” I said. “You know what he is like about time. He’ll be fussing and fuming that I’m keeping everyone waiting.”

  “Let him fuss.” Binky patted my hand. “This is your day. Enjoy it.”

  We pulled up outside the church. There was a large crowd on the pavement. I hadn’t expected that, but then I realized that the royal family does always draw a crowd. There were cheers when I was assisted from the car, and flashbulbs popped. I tried to look serene and elegant in my too-tight shoes. Mummy and Belinda were waiting for me just inside the church.

  “Don’t worry. Queenie’s got the other shoe,” Mummy whispered, and we did a quick-change act.