Free A Mourning Wedding by Carola Dunn Page B

wedding’s going to have to be postponed too,” Erica pointed out. “Too tedious! Mrs. Fletcher, I really need to go home right away and start notifying people.”
    â€œI have to leave today.” That was Flora, Lord Fotheringay’s unmarried daughter. She was dressed for the city, in a tailored black costume and white silk blouse. “I only came down yesterday to advise Aunt Vickie on decorating the chapel. I have a meeting with an important client in town this afternoon. They won’t stop me going, will they? They’ve no reason to suspect me.”
    â€œIt’s not for me to say,” Daisy insisted. “But I wouldn’t advise anyone to leave without permission. It’d look very fishy.”
    â€œVery fishy indeed.” Mr. Henry agreed with apparent relish. “We’ll just have to wait for Mr. Fletcher to arrive to separate the sheep from the goats, if you’ll pardon the mixed metaphors.”
    â€œHow can you all be so petty, with poor Grandmama lying murdered upstairs?” Veronica Bancroft sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “Wanting to rush off as if she was a stranger who had inconvenienced you!”
    â€œHush, my dear.” Peter Bancroft put his arm around his wife’s
shoulders. “You can’t expect everyone to feel the horror as deeply as you do, close to your grandmother as you were.”
    In fact, Daisy thought, no one she’d spoken to appeared heartbroken by Lady Eva’s demise. Her brother Montagu seemed the most affected. Even Veronica Bancroft’s eyes, though slightly reddened, were quite dry, for all her dabbing at them.
    Her reproach was reasonable, however. Most of the others had beaten a retreat as she spoke. Only Oliver Fotheringay and Jennifer Walsdorf lingered, at a little distance.
    â€œIt’s true, is it, Mrs. Fletcher,” said Peter Bancroft, “that your husband is going to be in charge of the case?”
    â€œI believe so.”
    â€œHe’ll soon find out we had nothing to gain. Lady Eva was aware that I am perfectly able to provide for Veronica and the children. She left practically everything to Angela, you know.”
    â€œFor her stupid dogs. Angela cares more for dogs than people. She’d do anything for her abandoned dogs, absolutely anything.”
    â€œIt’s good to know someone’s willing to help the poor things, isn’t it?” said Daisy, wondering what could have caused such spite—worse than spite, if it was a deliberate attempt to suggest that Angela was capable of killing her grandmother for the sake of her dogs.
    At least Daisy’s response got rid of the Bancrofts. As they went off, Oliver Fotheringay came closer. He looked worried.
    â€œDaisy—Mrs. Fletcher, I should say—”
    â€œPlease go on calling me Daisy.”
    He smiled. “Then you’d better call me Oliver, without the ‘Uncle,’ since you’re now a married lady. Daisy, Vickie is desperately concerned about Lucinda. She’s saying now that she’s not sure she’s going to marry Bincombe after all, that perhaps it was all a mistake.”
    Was Lucy wavering again, or just leading up gently to revealing her decision? “To tell the truth,” Daisy said with caution, “I think
she just has cold feet, as well as being thoroughly fed up with all the pomp and circumstance.”
    â€œVickie’s been trying so hard to give her a dream wedding.”
    â€œLucy’s dream? Or her mother’s?”
    â€œIn that case, why didn’t Lucinda say long ago that she wanted something different?”
    â€œPartly she didn’t know exactly what she wanted, and partly she didn’t want to disappoint her mother. That’s my guess, anyway.”
    â€œShe’s always had different ideas from the rest of us. We’ve never known just how to deal with her.” Oliver sighed. “We’ll try to understand. At least,