Free Deadly Desires at Honeychurch Hall by Hannah Dennison Page B

really,” said Doreen. “Well. That explains things. Poor Patty.” She gestured to Patty who had just emerged through the door from the kitchen carrying a jar of lemons. She put it down with a loud thump and trudged off again.
    â€œStan and I feel sorry for her so we’ve given her a job here—not that we can afford it,” Doreen went on in a low voice. “Patty has a rough time with her mother, you know. I think she was hoping it would work out at the Hall because she would have gotten one of the cottages on the estate if they’d kept her on. She’d still be close enough to keep an eye on Joyce but have a bit of freedom as well and some money of her own.”
    â€œHow long has Patty been taking care of her mother?” I asked.
    â€œLet me see—” Doreen thought hard. “Ever since Joyce’s Dennis—that’s Patty’s dad—died of a heart attack. About twenty years—and of course, she’s an only child.”
    Struck by the similarities of our situations, I felt a pang of compassion for Patty. I suspected it couldn’t be easy.
    â€œOh! Mercy, me!” shrieked Angela in her broad Devonshire accent. “Would you look at that duck!”
    â€œThis is Fred,” I said, rubbing his head once again. “Here, give him a scratch. He loves it.”
    Angela stepped back. “Oh, no! I couldn’t. He might bite me. I’m scared of ducks.” She gave Doreen a beaming smile and waved at Patty who was giving her a filthy stare.
    â€œI wondered if you needed any help with the sandwiches,” said Angela.
    â€œNo, thank you. I’m quite capable of bringing out my own sandwiches,” said Doreen with a sniff. “Our contribution to the cause.”
    â€œBe nice to her, Doreen,” said Eric, joining us. “She’s a newcomer—oh! Kat, I didn’t know you were coming.”
    â€œYes, I’m here.” I said, glad that he looked sheepish. “Why didn’t you tell my mother that you’d changed the meeting date?”
    Eric puffed out his chest. “I don’t know what Iris’s problem is. I was just going about my business. Her ladyship orders me to clear out the ditches, so I clear out the ditches and Iris goes mental, screaming at me and the like—”
    â€œI can’t imagine anyone screaming at you, Eric,” said Angela coyly.
    â€œSo that’s why you didn’t tell her the date of the meeting had changed?” I demanded.
    â€œWe don’t need her help.”
    â€œI think my mother was upset about all the noise under her office window, that’s all,” I said.
    â€œOffice?” said Angela. “She has an office ? I thought she was retired.”
    I was about to say “writing her books” but then I remembered that only a handful of people on the Honeychurch estate knew of Mum’s secret life and Angela was definitely not one of them.
    â€œI meant to say bedroom window,” I finished somewhat lamely. “My mother suffers from headaches.”
    â€œShe’ll have more than a headache if your place gets flooded,” said Eric. “With all this rain, you’ve got to keep the ditches clear of branches and leaves and that’s what I told her. She owes me an apology.”
    Fortunately, my phone vibrated so I didn’t have to answer. “Ah, this will be from Mum,” I said, waving it at no one in particular. “Excuse me.”
    I was glad of the chance to escape. A quick glimpse confirmed my hunch that it was a text from Valentine. “Where are you? I’m dying of thirst.”
    â€œJust dashing to the loo,” I said to anyone within earshot. I slipped into the Snug and up the staircase feeling oddly guilty.

 
    Chapter Seven
    â€œI thought afterward that my invitation to entice you to my boudoir was highly inappropriate,” said Valentine as he ushered me into a tiny bedroom. Dressed in