it is impossible to work somewhere for fifteen years and not share something of yourself, with other staff members. I said that I had spoken to men, not gentlemen.”
How he had ever thought to question the staff before the club members was beyond her, but she couldn’t deny that he was correct (assuming the barkeeper was telling the truth).
“ I’ve written to my uncle. I gather from correspondence between him and Father, that he suspected something was wrong.”
She realised that trying to score points would not help catch her father’s killer but the idea that she might have been wrong about Nathaniel, that he may even prove to be a better investigator than she, was very vexing.
“ Then let’s hope that he knows something to help us,” Nathaniel said with equanimity, making Damaris feel even worse for her pettiness.
They stopped at the Marigold and Pettifer estates, asking the landowner to check among his staff and tenants, to see if anyone could remember seeing Mr Howard that Sunday. Thankfully he had been a genial and well liked gentleman, so the news of his disappearance had surprised most people, meaning that on the whole, the last time they saw him had been fixed in their memories.
Of course it was less likely that servants and tenants would so easily recall having seen him, indeed many would not even know what he looked like but in a stroke of genius, Damaris had sketched many likenesses of her father, which she could leave with the families to be shown around.
She had also thought to write a description of her father ’s horse (which had never been found either) but sadly, bay horses were a common sight and his white blaze was not nearly distinctive enough to make the animal memorable, especially after six years.
The next estate house was a good ten miles away but after a brief debate, they decided it was worth the journey and headed there.
Damaris then wanted to continue onto the next estate , but Nathaniel argued that they would probably already be late for dinner as it was, and he didn’t want to put his mother out. Besides, interrupting a family during their own meal would probably not be taken kindly.
With reluctance, Damaris agreed.
As they journey back to Lanford, Nathaniel suggested putting an advertisement in local newspapers asking for information, rather than visiting each estate between Lanford and London individually, and Damaris agreed that it was more efficient.
“We should also offer a reward,” Damaris suggested as they neared his estate. “That would make people far more inclined to come forward with information.”
“Or with false information, in the hopes of being right and getting the money.”
“Yes, but it is better to have too much information than too little.”
“Not if it means wasting time on false leads.”
“But surely those who would lie are few and far between. Why lie only in the faint hope of getting a reward?” she asked.
“People will do a lot for money, including killing , so lying hardly compares, no matter how small the chance of rewards.”
She could see the logic in his argument but she still felt that a reward could help.
“Why not put the idea aside, just for now,” Nathaniel suggested. “If we discover that we have followed every lead to its end without result, we can then offer a reward.”
That sounded like a reasonable suggestion , so she agreed.
***
Damaris changed for dinner and met the family in the Copley room, so called for the large portrait of Edmund Copley, the first Earl of Lanford, which hung over the large fireplace.
Lilly had been invited to join them for dinner and although she initially refused, Damaris had persuaded her. Lilly felt like a servant but she wasn’t. She had been born to a middle class family and had run her own household, until the fire that claimed her family.
She had never much enjoyed mixing with the upper class and aristocracy but as Damaris’ companion, had been required to. Knowing how
How he had ever thought to question the staff before the club members was beyond her, but she couldn’t deny that he was correct (assuming the barkeeper was telling the truth).
“ I’ve written to my uncle. I gather from correspondence between him and Father, that he suspected something was wrong.”
She realised that trying to score points would not help catch her father’s killer but the idea that she might have been wrong about Nathaniel, that he may even prove to be a better investigator than she, was very vexing.
“ Then let’s hope that he knows something to help us,” Nathaniel said with equanimity, making Damaris feel even worse for her pettiness.
They stopped at the Marigold and Pettifer estates, asking the landowner to check among his staff and tenants, to see if anyone could remember seeing Mr Howard that Sunday. Thankfully he had been a genial and well liked gentleman, so the news of his disappearance had surprised most people, meaning that on the whole, the last time they saw him had been fixed in their memories.
Of course it was less likely that servants and tenants would so easily recall having seen him, indeed many would not even know what he looked like but in a stroke of genius, Damaris had sketched many likenesses of her father, which she could leave with the families to be shown around.
She had also thought to write a description of her father ’s horse (which had never been found either) but sadly, bay horses were a common sight and his white blaze was not nearly distinctive enough to make the animal memorable, especially after six years.
The next estate house was a good ten miles away but after a brief debate, they decided it was worth the journey and headed there.
Damaris then wanted to continue onto the next estate , but Nathaniel argued that they would probably already be late for dinner as it was, and he didn’t want to put his mother out. Besides, interrupting a family during their own meal would probably not be taken kindly.
With reluctance, Damaris agreed.
As they journey back to Lanford, Nathaniel suggested putting an advertisement in local newspapers asking for information, rather than visiting each estate between Lanford and London individually, and Damaris agreed that it was more efficient.
“We should also offer a reward,” Damaris suggested as they neared his estate. “That would make people far more inclined to come forward with information.”
“Or with false information, in the hopes of being right and getting the money.”
“Yes, but it is better to have too much information than too little.”
“Not if it means wasting time on false leads.”
“But surely those who would lie are few and far between. Why lie only in the faint hope of getting a reward?” she asked.
“People will do a lot for money, including killing , so lying hardly compares, no matter how small the chance of rewards.”
She could see the logic in his argument but she still felt that a reward could help.
“Why not put the idea aside, just for now,” Nathaniel suggested. “If we discover that we have followed every lead to its end without result, we can then offer a reward.”
That sounded like a reasonable suggestion , so she agreed.
***
Damaris changed for dinner and met the family in the Copley room, so called for the large portrait of Edmund Copley, the first Earl of Lanford, which hung over the large fireplace.
Lilly had been invited to join them for dinner and although she initially refused, Damaris had persuaded her. Lilly felt like a servant but she wasn’t. She had been born to a middle class family and had run her own household, until the fire that claimed her family.
She had never much enjoyed mixing with the upper class and aristocracy but as Damaris’ companion, had been required to. Knowing how
Similar Books
