Free A Death in the Highlands by Caroline Dunford Page B

as loaders and I began to clear what we could without disturbing the diners. Lord Richard had insisted on using the best of everything and, while we had more of the sets of cutlery and plates at the lodge, many of the serving dishes would be required this evening.
    The party showed no signs of returning to the shoot. I paid little attention to them for I was quickly realising some of the plates were far too greasy to repack as they were. I was aware of the bantering nature of their conversation. I cannot say why, but for some reason their jocularity set me on edge. At one point I looked up and caught Mr Bertram’s eye. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. Lord Richard’s loud blustering tones were interspersed with shouts of laughter. I heard Rory murmur quietly on more than one occasion that time was passing.
    ‘Oh for God’s sake, man! Quit nagging!’ shouted Lord Richard. ‘We’ve killed plenty of the bloody birds. It’s a day for relaxation.’ He upended a bottle himself. ‘Never tell me we’ve run out of wine!’ He fixed one of our footmen with his beady eye, ‘Willie, is there no more?’
    I saw Rory ever so slightly shake his head at Willie, who blanched and remained silent.
    ‘Speak up, man!’ bellowed Lord Richard.
    In the meantime Mr Tipton had risen unnoticed. He tugged at a large hamper on the cart. ‘Damned heavy, this. I think it’s got a little more shampoo in it.’
    ‘Help him, you fool,’ barked Lord Richard. Willie threw a helpless glance at Rory and ran over to help Tipton.
    The glance did not escape Lord Richard. He gestured for the butler to approach more closely and to bend down close so he could whisper. At this point I noticed that a salad fork was missing. It was only inadvertently that, in my search, I moved close enough to overhear.
    ‘… I am the kind of master you can control,’ Lord Richard was hissing, ‘you will be making a very great mistake, McLeod. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.’
    ‘I assure you, Lord Richard, nothing could be further from …’
    ‘Save it. I know your kind. Bowing, scraping, servile, thieving bastards, who rob us blind as soon as our backs are turned. You need to learn your place, McLeod. You might be a big man to the people round here, but you’re no more important to me than …’ and he snapped his fingers suddenly before Rory’s eyes making him blink in surprise and start back. The table erupted in laughter. Rory straightened. ‘I will see to the resetting of the cooling buckets, sir,’ he said levelly. He seemed totally composed, but from my vantage point I could see a faint reddening on the back of his neck.
    ‘Oh lor’, Dickie,’ said Muller. ‘You might want to dally around in the sunshine all day, but I want to damned well kill something.’
    ‘I too have had sufficient,’ said Mr Smith gently. ‘It was an excellent repast, Dickie. I fear any more champagne and my eye will be put out.’
    ‘Can’t say I mind that,’ answered Lord Richard. ‘You’ve been killing far too many of the blasted birds! If I’d realised what a ruddy good shot you were, I’d never have invited you!’
    The mood broke and the men laughed. ‘Just one more round of shampoo,’ pleaded Tipton.
    ‘Oh, let him have his last drink,’ said McGillvary. ‘It’s not like it’s going to make any difference to Baggy’s shooting!’
    There was more laughter. Mr Smith rose. ‘I shall return to the site and prepare myself.’
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Fitzroy. He had been so quiet during the meal I had quite forgotten he was there.
    A cork popped and Rory appeared with the new bottle. I gazed in dismay at a large dish covered in the melting remains of aspic.
    ‘Miss,’ said the bootboy. ‘There’s a stream nearby. We could wash the worst off.’
    I looked down at the boy. He was little more than ten and looking quite contrite. ‘Is that where you went earlier, Bobby?’
    The boy hung his head. ‘I was only having a bit of a