Phyllis will be leaving immediately. Miss Friendly, you are not to do any more work for the next two days. Go to your room and relax, or go out for a walk.”
Rose marched back downstairs and into the study, where Matthew Jarvis was working.
“Ah, Lady Rose,” he said, “I have just received a wire. My lord and lady will be returning at the end of the week. They wish you to go to Stacey Court as soon as possible.”
“Very well,” said Rose. Let rotten Harry Cathcart do the investigation himself. “Mr. Jarvis, I should be grateful if you would inform Lady Phyllis’s butler that she and her staff are leaving as soon as possible. By as soon as possible, I mean tomorrow morning at the latest.”
The outraged Lady Phyllis shouted and protested when she received the news, but all she got was a blistering lecture from Rose on her abuse of the household and its staff.
Lady Phyllis telephoned Harry, who replied that he could not contradict Lady Rose’s decision as it was her home. But he was furious with Rose and thought her action was that of petty spite.
By the end of the week, Becket could not bear it any longer. “You know, sir, that you paid me to find out gossip from the Running Footman?”
“Yes, Becket, and did you find out anything relating to the murders?”
“No, sir, it’s just that I could not help overhearing your argument with Lady Rose over Lady Phyllis.”
Harry’s face hardened. “And what has that to do with anything?”
“It’s just that some of your aunt’s staff also drink in the Running Footman.”
“I repeat: What has that to do with anything?”
“Lady Phyllis’s nickname is Lady Sponge.”
“What!”
“It seems that Lady Phyllis likes to be invited into other people’s homes and once there, she costs them a lot of money. Furthermore, she usually takes with her as many servants as she can so that she is spared the expense of feeding them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Some other servants joined our gossip. They, too, remember visits from Lady Phyllis. One said she had only been invited for tea and yet she turned up with all her baggage and servants and claimed that she had been invited to stay. It took a couple of months to get rid of her.”
Harry ran a hand through his thick hair. “Oh dear. I had better visit Lady Rose.”
But when they arrived at the town house, it was to find only a caretaker and his wife in residence. Harry was told that the whole family was now at Stacey Court. He telephoned the earl, confidently expecting to be invited down, but it was Matthew who answered his call and told him that Lady Rose had given instructions that Captain Harry Cathcart was to be told she was “not at home.”
“Not at home” was society’s snub. It was a way of saying, “I don’t want to see you.”
He sat down and wrote a heartfelt apology to Rose. Her father read it and decided not to show it to his daughter. Sir Peter Petrey was due back from Scotland soon. If only Rose would break off her engagement to this eccentric captain, Sir Peter would be so eligible and Rose seemed to like him. The earl threw Harry’s letter on the fire and decided to invite Peter to come on a visit.
Harry, on receiving no reply from Rose, thought she was childish and ungracious. It never dawned on him that such an independent spirit as Rose Summer would have her mail read by her father.
As the weeks passed and there were no new leads on the murder of Dolly Tremaine, Harry, still smarting over what he saw as Rose’s rejection of him, began to take on new cases and immersed himself in his work.
As autumn crept over the English countryside and the smoky bonfire air hung over the bare frosty fields, the earl and countess began to make preparations to remove to London for the Little Season.
Only Daisy felt as if she had been condemned to years and years of Sundays where nothing ever happened. Sir Peter had come on an extended visit and Rose seemed to enjoy his light-hearted company
Rose marched back downstairs and into the study, where Matthew Jarvis was working.
“Ah, Lady Rose,” he said, “I have just received a wire. My lord and lady will be returning at the end of the week. They wish you to go to Stacey Court as soon as possible.”
“Very well,” said Rose. Let rotten Harry Cathcart do the investigation himself. “Mr. Jarvis, I should be grateful if you would inform Lady Phyllis’s butler that she and her staff are leaving as soon as possible. By as soon as possible, I mean tomorrow morning at the latest.”
The outraged Lady Phyllis shouted and protested when she received the news, but all she got was a blistering lecture from Rose on her abuse of the household and its staff.
Lady Phyllis telephoned Harry, who replied that he could not contradict Lady Rose’s decision as it was her home. But he was furious with Rose and thought her action was that of petty spite.
By the end of the week, Becket could not bear it any longer. “You know, sir, that you paid me to find out gossip from the Running Footman?”
“Yes, Becket, and did you find out anything relating to the murders?”
“No, sir, it’s just that I could not help overhearing your argument with Lady Rose over Lady Phyllis.”
Harry’s face hardened. “And what has that to do with anything?”
“It’s just that some of your aunt’s staff also drink in the Running Footman.”
“I repeat: What has that to do with anything?”
“Lady Phyllis’s nickname is Lady Sponge.”
“What!”
“It seems that Lady Phyllis likes to be invited into other people’s homes and once there, she costs them a lot of money. Furthermore, she usually takes with her as many servants as she can so that she is spared the expense of feeding them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Some other servants joined our gossip. They, too, remember visits from Lady Phyllis. One said she had only been invited for tea and yet she turned up with all her baggage and servants and claimed that she had been invited to stay. It took a couple of months to get rid of her.”
Harry ran a hand through his thick hair. “Oh dear. I had better visit Lady Rose.”
But when they arrived at the town house, it was to find only a caretaker and his wife in residence. Harry was told that the whole family was now at Stacey Court. He telephoned the earl, confidently expecting to be invited down, but it was Matthew who answered his call and told him that Lady Rose had given instructions that Captain Harry Cathcart was to be told she was “not at home.”
“Not at home” was society’s snub. It was a way of saying, “I don’t want to see you.”
He sat down and wrote a heartfelt apology to Rose. Her father read it and decided not to show it to his daughter. Sir Peter Petrey was due back from Scotland soon. If only Rose would break off her engagement to this eccentric captain, Sir Peter would be so eligible and Rose seemed to like him. The earl threw Harry’s letter on the fire and decided to invite Peter to come on a visit.
Harry, on receiving no reply from Rose, thought she was childish and ungracious. It never dawned on him that such an independent spirit as Rose Summer would have her mail read by her father.
As the weeks passed and there were no new leads on the murder of Dolly Tremaine, Harry, still smarting over what he saw as Rose’s rejection of him, began to take on new cases and immersed himself in his work.
As autumn crept over the English countryside and the smoky bonfire air hung over the bare frosty fields, the earl and countess began to make preparations to remove to London for the Little Season.
Only Daisy felt as if she had been condemned to years and years of Sundays where nothing ever happened. Sir Peter had come on an extended visit and Rose seemed to enjoy his light-hearted company
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