Free Murder At Rudhall Manor by Anya Wylde Page A

Lucy said sombrely.
    Pat quickly scuttled off the bed.
    Hepsy tilted her head and eyed her like a bird. "I
didn't want to come but Pat insisted. He said he wanted to take a good look at
a murderer. We may never see one again."
    Lucy felt a little hurt by that. One of the servants must
have warned the children this morning. She kept her face neutral and said,
"Would you like a souvenir from a murderess? You can show it to your
children when you are older."
    Pat grinned and snatched the old blue ribbon dangling
between Lucy's fingers. “I am not going to have any children."
    Hepsy took the red ribbon from Lucy's other hand. "I
will have ten of them. I can cut this up into tiny, tiny pieces and put it in
decorative boxes for all of them."
    "Would you like me to sign them for you?" Lucy
asked.
    Hepsy brightened. "Oooh, then I can show it to Rosy.
She got a new doll from her father last week, but I wager she hasn't anything
from a killer."
    Lucy felt another pang in her heart. She wasn't particularly
keen on the little monsters, but times like this reminded her of how they were
orphans just like her. In a flash of abandon, she pulled out a second green
ribbon and shoved it at Hepsy. "Here, keep this as well. Think of it as a
gift this time … from your governess."
    Hepsy clutched the ribbon to her chest, her eyes large.
"We won't be able to see you again, Miss Trotter."
    "We will sneak up here though," Pat objected,
"and see her all the time."
    "She will be hanging to her death soon," Hepsy
said shaking her head.
    Pat's eyes brimmed, but before the tears could fall, Lucy
pounced on him and started tickling him.
    Hepsy forgot her fear and raced over to join in the fun.
    ***
    Sometime later when they had gone Lucy leaned back on the
single, hard backed chair in the room and closed her eyes. Her heart was still
beating rapidly from playing catch with the children. It took her a few moments
of breathing slowly to calm herself and once again plunge into a world of
grownups.
    Things were looking grim.
    She glanced towards the orange she had left at the grate for
the scullery maid. It remained untouched, and after last evening, she wasn't surprised.
    The servants had rolled together to form a tightly wound up
ball of yarn. Oh, the butler may toss her a couple of affectionate words now
and then, grateful that she had apparently knifed the old man, but he was no
fool. He would never go out of his way to help her. He would remain loyal to
the servants.
    She shook her head in disgust.
    It was fruitless trying to unravel the downstairs syndicate.
    Now, upstairs was a different story. The Sedley family
comprised of independent minded creatures who were as indifferent to each other
as a rooster is to a squirrel, unless, of course, the rooster decided to steal
the squirrel's nuts or the squirrel the rooster's grain.
    Nuts, grains and roosters, Lucy mused, distracted.
    She was hungry.
    Abandoning her meditations for a later time, she decided to
go get some breakfast. After that, she promised herself, she would sit down in
the library and form a decisive plan.
    For breakfast she was presented with two limp eggs, a bowl
of unhappy porridge and no tea. Lucy squared her shoulders, picked up her fork,
and like a soldier readying for battle who knows to take nourishment when they
can, she attacked the food.
    It was a lonely meal, and she had no reason to linger
considering the taste of it. Earthworms, she decided, would have tasted better
sliding down her throat. With a shudder, she rose from the table and carried
the plate back to the kitchen.
    She retreated quickly from the kitchen. The way the servants
had looked at her had given her a sudden insight into what the French must have
felt when faced with a large English army during Waterloo.
    She paused in the damp hallway undecided as to where to go.
Normally she would be teaching the children in the nursery at this time, but
now with all the free time she had, she felt a little lost.
    The library,