Free Murder Goes Mumming by Charlotte MacLeod

Solomon. This is marvelous bacon, Squire. Home-cured, by any chance?”
    “Every bite of it. Herbert’s a great hand with the hogs. There’ll be roast suckling pig tonight.”
    “My word, you do your guests proud. Tell me, sir, do we go ahead with the mumming you mentioned?”
    “Absolutely. They’ve all been working on their costumes for months, I shouldn’t wonder. Can’t deprive them of the chance to show off.”
    “I’m afraid Janet and I didn’t come prepared for a masquerade.”
    “Oh, we’ll rig up something for you. Ah, Janet, there you are now. Looking blithe and bonny, I must say. Did you sleep well?”
    “I slept later than I should have, I’m afraid,” she replied in a neat evasion. “I do hope I’m not the last one down. Where is everybody?”
    “Most of them are still in bed, the wretches. May’s out in the kitchen holding a staff conference. Babs is up in the attic hunting out the Christmas trimmings. We always set up the tree on Christmas Eve. Clara came to my room earlier, but I sent her back to bed. I expect she’ll be down to help with the tree, though. Perhaps you’d like to lend a hand after breakfast?”
    “Of course, I’d love to.” Janet hesitated a moment, then came over and gave Squire her hand. “I expect Madoc has told you how sorry we are about your mother-in-law.”
    “Thank you, my dear, he has. And I’ve told him we’re grateful to have had Granny with us for so many years longer than we could have hoped, and we’re not going to spoil our happy time by useless mourning. We’ve done what little we could for her until the storm lets up and the undertaker can get through, and now we’re going straight ahead with our plans as Granny would have wanted us to.”
    He patted the hand he was still holding. “You know, my dear Janet, back in earlier and happier times when Old England was truly Merrie England, there’d be a Lord of Misrule appointed to preside over the holiday festival, and everybody was expected to obey his royal commands. I’ve given myself that exalted position, and I hereby command you to step over to that sideboard and choose whatever suits your fancy. Come along and I’ll show you what we have.”
    “No you won’t.” Janet deftly freed herself from his grasp. “It would be highly improper for the Lord of Misrule to wait on one of his subjects. You stay where you are and look regal. No, Madoc, sit down and finish your eggs before they get cold. I’ll be a lady-in-waiting and wait on myself.”
    Squire chuckled. Madoc had no trouble managing a suitably fatuous laugh.
    “Yes, my love. You see, Squire, I’m practicing to become a happily henpecked husband. It’s the only way, don’t you think?”
    “It’s the path of least resistance, at any rate. By the way, Janet, you did say you’d been working for Donald?”
    “For the firm, at any rate. Not very long, actually. I worked for a while last year, then went home for the summer, and now I’m back and set to quit. He’ll be glad to get rid of such a feckless creature, I daresay.”
    “I find that impossible to believe,” Squire replied gallantly. “And you’ve been sharing an office with Val’s friend Roy?”
    “Heavens, no. Roy has an office all to himself. I’m only in the typing pool.”
    “But didn’t I hear you say you did his letters?”
    “I used to sometimes. Not lately.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because Miss Stewart hasn’t assigned me to him, I suppose. Miss Stewart’s our department head. She parcels out the work to whichever of us happens to be free, and we just do what she tells us to.”
    Miss Stewart was as aware as everybody else around the office of the way Roy had chased Janet, then dumped her when she came down with acute appendicitis and spoiled his birthday party. She was much too kind a woman to put Janet in the awkward position of having any further dealings with him. Even though it didn’t matter any longer, Janet was not about to explain that to