Free Death of a Dishonorable Gentleman by Tessa Arlen

referring to the footmen who, Mrs. Jackson had to silently agree, had been showing off for Violet’s benefit ever since she had started at the house eight weeks ago.
    Mrs. Jackson closed in on the kitchen table and said, “Servants’ dinner is in two minutes. I hope you have things in hand, Mrs. Thwaite, we must not be late,” and she left to walk down the corridor to take her place at the top of the table on Mr. Hollyoak’s right, as the servants filed in to take their places for their midday meal.
    Mr. Hollyoak was clearly irritated as he took his place at the head of the table, and waited for the visiting servants to seat themselves in the order of their masters’ precedence. She followed his glare to its far end and Violet’s empty chair next to the scullery maid, Mary. Mrs. Jackson did not tolerate unpunctuality for meals, nor did the butler; latecomers forfeited their dinner. She caught his eye as he cast a glance of silent criticism in her direction. She lifted her eyebrows, tilting her head a little, mutely asking for tolerance after the arduous weeks they had all been through. Catching his minimal acquiescing nod, she sent Mary up to the room she shared with Violet.
    When Mary returned, Mrs. Jackson listened to the tiny whisper that everyone strained to hear: Violet was not in their room. She turned her head to catch Mr. Hollyoak’s frown. He made no comment but proceeded to say grace, and Mrs. Jackson said that Violet would go without her dinner today.
    After their meal, Mrs. Jackson spent a valuable half hour, when she should have been placing her weekly order with Fortnum & Mason on the telephone, looking for Violet. She searched the house while the family and their guests were gathered in the dining room for their luncheon, but there was no sign of the girl. She checked the kitchen courtyard, and sent Dick off to the kitchen gardens and the stable block. But when he came back to report that there was no sign of Violet, she decided that she would wait before she made a fuss about Violet’s apparent disappearance—something she did not forgive herself for later on that day.
    She became aware that the tenor of the afternoon had changed when Theo Cartwright arrived at the scullery door as they were cleaning up after upstairs luncheon. She heard his voice quite distinctly demanding to speak to Lord Montfort on a matter of great importance. He sounded so agitated that it caused Mrs. Jackson her first tremor of real anxiety about the missing housemaid. She sent for Mr. Hollyoak, who was enjoying forty winks in his pantry, to speak to the gamekeeper.
    Whatever it was that Theo told Mr. Hollyoak, it was bad news of the worst sort, Mrs. Jackson grasped, as she watched the butler shrug himself into his morning coat and make for the scullery door with more haste than he usually employed. Convinced that Theo’s waxy white face and agitated manner had something to do with Violet’s disappearance, she hovered by the butler’s pantry, waiting for Mr. Hollyoak to return. Her inner panic and horror knew no bounds when twenty-two minutes later he reappeared and told her that Theo had found a dead man hanging from his gibbet.
    â€œDid he say who it was?” She had asked the butler this question a half-dozen times until she could tell by the set of his shoulders that she should not say another word on the matter.
    â€œYou are worried about Violet, aren’t you?” She heard kindly concern in his voice and nodded her head.
    â€œI want to send Dick to the village to see if she’s with her father,” she said.
    â€œNot yet, Mrs. Jackson. A man has been killed on the estate, a missing housemaid is of no consequence right now. We will wait until his lordship returns to the house and then we’ll see.”
    She had patiently waited in suppressed anxiety as she watched the kitchen clock and was almost worn to a frazzle when two hours later Lord Montfort returned