4★
“ ‘Still, it could be worse. You could have been called upon to foil the assassination of the Bulgarian ambassador. Again.’
‘That was a lark, though, wasn’t it?’
‘A lark indeed, my lady. I think we’re better off without all that, though.’ ”
This is a delightful dip into what is apparently the middle of the lives of Lady Hardcastle and her lady’s maid, Flo Armstrong, in England in 1908. The widowed Lady Hardcastle, Emily to her friends, has bought a country house to lead a quiet life among simple country folk, enjoy fresh food and clean air.
Flo narrates the story with wit and humour and loving concern for Lady Hardcastle, who is not Her Ladyship, incidentally, as Flo explains.
“ ‘Telegram for her ladyship,’ he mumbled quickly, holding it out for me to take.
‘My lady doesn’t sail,’ I said. He looked blankly at me. ‘She doesn’t have a “ship”.’ I tried to explain. ‘She’s a knight’s widow so she’s “Lady Hardcastle” or “my lady”.’ ”
They decide to go for a walk, get the lay of the land, explore the countryside, maybe stop to make sketches, have a cup of tea – but wait. Seems they’ve trespassed onto private property. Still, the owner realises who they are (very small village, so they’re a topic of local conversation) and asks:
“ ‘Just you mind you shut the gates and don’t frighten the beasts and we’ll get along fine.’ ”
That they can do. Off they tramp through the woods, with Lady Hardcastle reminding Armstrong that she needn’t keep looking over her shoulder as if they were still being pursued. They are safe now.
These little comments pop up frequently, teasers to suggest a mysterious past, and each one suggests more danger and mention is made of yet more derring-do by these two seemingly harmless women. Hardly harmless!
As they wander through the woods, Lady Hardcastle chatting as she goes:
“ ‘And in the centre of the clearing, my dear Florence,’ she was saying, without apparently having broken her conversational stride, ‘we have . . . I say!’
‘A dead body, my lady?’
I said. ‘I was going to say, “a magnificent English oak”,’ she said, somewhat distractedly, ‘but the body is definitely the more arresting sight.’”
A body! Now we’re in business! The police arrive and trample over the scene, but not before Lady Hardcastle and Armstrong have noticed some important details. Following this, they begin sleuthing as they used to, deciding the countryside is perhaps a little too quiet for them otherwise.
Meanwhile, there’s the usual society scramble to meet the new Lady. People are surprised how close a relationship Lady Hardcastle has with her maid, but the two women work well together.
Armstrong is a servant, but more in the way a daughter might be to a frail mother – cooking when necessary, etc. – but she is paid and does manage any other household staff. Lady H is not frail, however!
As they move around, Flo Armstrong mixes with the staff below stairs - cooks, chauffeurs, gardeners and the like - while her boss mingles with the gentry above stairs, so when they compare notes, they have a lot of ground covered.
Lady Hardcastle is invited to a dinner party where, after some questioning, the hostess recognises Emily (Lady H) as the daughter of one of her oldest friends. She had met Emily when she was just a tot and kept up a correspondence with the mother for years. Lady H finds her and her husband “ ‘sweet and charming and quite as barmy as a sack of gibbons and I had a lovely time.’ ”
As for the rest of the evening:
“ ‘What I’d expected to be an intimate supper with the local landowners turned into some manner of formal introduction to the Great and the Good. Or the local equivalent, at least. The Moderately Significant and the Well-Intentioned, perhaps. Still, they think themselves frightfully important and that’s what counts, I suppose.’ ”
In addition to the mystery of the body in the tree is added an engagement party, a suspicious business affair, and a stolen gem. Something for everyone, and all neatly figured out by this pair with some help from the local police, who quite admire the women, fortunately.
When Lady H needs to clear her head, she recommends music.
“ ‘But enough of thieves and bludgeoners, what say we clear our minds completely and indulge in some of the finer things in life. I seem to be in the mood for some ragtime. Fetch your banjo. We shall drink cognac and syncopate the night away.’ “
Count me in! I intend to enjoy more adventures with this colourful pair.
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