Page 82 of The Tartan Trap

“Lord Lawrence, do assure us you’re all right.” Lily clung to Ellis’s arm as if for real support; her features were a bit pale.

Lord Lawrence squinted open one eye and looked to Rachel.

She sighed. “Very well, you may speak.”

“I’m wonderful, Miss Preston,” he said. “I’ve never been more comfortable at a dinner party, actually. What a treat, to get to lie down and be the center of attention!”

Margaret had to grin. The fellow was a delight—even if the sight of a bloodied corpse speaking was somehow worse than when he was inert.

There was a polite shuffle as they found their assigned places at the table. Margaret was sandwiched between Callum and Ellis. Rachel sat at the furthest end of their side, with Beatrice sitting next to Lord Shaw and Lily across from them, with an empty place setting left for Lord Lawrence. The chair at the head of the table had been removed, allowing the guests an excellent view of the fireplace and the victim in front of it.

“Now,” Rachel said as the servants began to pour the wine. “The victim of the evening is one Mr. Haberdashery, a successful merchant. He was a guest of this countryside manor⁠—”

“Oh, I do love the countryside,” Lily said.

Beatrice shushed her. “No more interruptions, or I have the feeling we’ll be here all night.”

“Indeed, it feels as if it’s nine already,” Lord Shaw said in a droll tone.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him. “Apologies, Rachel. Please, continue.”

“Mr. Haberdashery was a guest of this countryside manor,” Rachel repeated, “but several of the inhabitants have grudges against him. Each of you will find a small piece of parchment beneath your plate. Read it aloud, please. We’ll start with Lily.”

Lily held up her paper and read, “I’m to play Miss Cosette, the governess of the house—” Here she gave a nervous sort of squeak, cleared her throat, and took a sip of water. “Apparently, I held a grudge against the victim because he was trying to have me fired.”

Beatrice frowned. “Why would Mr. Haberdashery try to have Miss Cosette fired?”

“Indeed,” Margaret said. “I think Lily would make an excellent governess.”

Lily motioned to the footman who was pouring the wine as if trying to hurry him along.

“As long as none of her charges ever skinned their knees, that is,” Beatrice added.

“I don’t like blood,” Lily sniffed. “That hardly affects my ability as a governess.”

“Wonderful,” Rachel encouraged. “Excellent job, making your character your own like that. Lord Shaw, you’re next.”

He read, “I’m Mr. Goldbuttons, a wealthy shipping magnate and the owner of the house. I have a grudge against the victim because he cheated me out of payment for a shipment.”

“Then whyever did you invite him to your countryside manor?” Ellis asked, grinning over his glass of wine.

“Heaven knows,” Lord Shaw said. “If I were in possession of a grand countryside manor, I doubt I’d invite anyone.”

“Charming,” Beatrice said sarcastically.

“You’re next, Beatrice,” Rachel said.

She picked up her slip. “I am to play Mrs. Copperbottom, the cook. I don’t like Mr. Haberdashery because he knows my deepest secret—that I’m an escaped convict from the penal colonies.” Beatrice blinked in surprise.

Rachel said, “I will play Mrs. Grumbles, the housekeeper⁠—”

“Mrs. Grumbles?” Margaret gasped with laughter. “Rachel, I must insist if you do ever marry, that you enlist your husband’s help when it comes time to name the children.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “You know very well how I feel about that.”

“Please, I must know…why might the housekeeper wish Mr. Haberdashery harm?” Ellis asked with a smile.

“She overheard Mr. Haberdashery acting in a untoward way toward her parlor maid, Matilda.”