Mrs. Jeffries Forges Ahead, page 1
part #28 of Mrs Jeffries Series
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
“One historical mystery series that never gets boring or dull.”
—Midwest Book Review
WHAT WOULD SCOTLAND YARD DO WITHOUT DEAR MRS. JEFFRIES?
Even Inspector Witherspoon himself doesn’t know—because his secret weapon is as ladylike as she is clever. She’s Mrs. Jeffries—the charming detective who stars in this unique Victorian mystery series. Enjoy them all . . .
The Inspector and Mrs. Jeffries
A doctor is found dead in his own office—and Mrs. Jeffries must scour the premises to find the prescription for murder.
Mrs. Jeffries Dusts for Clues
One case is solved and another is opened when the inspector finds a missing brooch—pinned to a dead woman’s gown. But Mrs. Jeffries never cleans a room without dusting under the bed—and never gives up on a case before every loose end is tightly tied.
The Ghost and Mrs. Jeffries
Death is unpredictable . . . but the murder of Mrs. Hodges was foreseen at a spooky séance. The practical-minded housekeeper may not be able to see the future—but she can look into the past and put things in order to solve this haunting crime.
Mrs. Jeffries Takes Stock
A businessman has been murdered—and it could be because he cheated his stockholders. The housekeeper’s interest is piqued . . . and when it comes to catching killers, the smart money’s on Mrs. Jeffries.
Mrs. Jeffries on the Ball
A festive Jubilee celebration turns into a fatal affair—and Mrs. Jeffries must find the guilty party.
Mrs. Jeffries on the Trail
Why was Annie Shields out selling flowers so late on a foggy night? And more importantly, who killed her while she was doing it? It’s up to Mrs. Jeffries to sniff out the clues.
Mrs. Jeffries Plays the Cook
Mrs. Jeffries finds herself doing double duty: cooking for the inspector’s household and trying to cook a killer’s goose.
Mrs. Jeffries and the Missing Alibi
When Inspector Witherspoon becomes the main suspect in a murder, Scotland Yard refuses to let him investigate. But no one said anything about Mrs. Jeffries.
Mrs. Jeffries Stands Corrected
When a local publican is murdered, and Inspector Witherspoon botches the investigation, trouble starts to brew for Mrs. Jeffries.
Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Stage
After a theatre critic is murdered, Mrs. Jeffries uncovers the victim’s secret past: a real-life drama more compelling than any stage play.
Mrs. Jeffries Questions the Answers
Hannah Cameron was not well liked. But were her friends or family the sort to stab her in the back? Mrs. Jeffries must really tiptoe around this time—or it could be a matter of life and death.
Mrs. Jeffries Reveals Her Art
Mrs. Jeffries has to work double time to find a missing model and a killer. And she’ll have to get her whole staff involved—before someone else becomes the next subject.
Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Cake
The evidence was all there: a dead body, two dessert plates, and a gun. As if Mr. Ashbury had been sharing cake with his own killer. Now Mrs. Jeffries will have to do some snooping around—to dish up clues.
Mrs. Jeffries Rocks the Boat
Mirabelle had traveled by boat all the way from Australia to visit her sister—only to wind up murdered. Now Mrs. Jeffries must solve the case—and it’s sink or swim.
Mrs. Jeffries Weeds the Plot
Three attempts have been made on Annabeth Gentry’s life. Is it due to her recent inheritance, or is it because her bloodhound dug up the body of a murdered thief? Mrs. Jeffries will have to sniff out some clues before the plot thickens.
Mrs. Jeffries Pinches the Post
Harrison Nye may have had some dubious business dealings, but no one expected him to be murdered. Now, Mrs. Jeffries and her staff must root through the sins of his past to discover which one caught up with him.
Mrs. Jeffries Pleads Her Case
Harlan Westover’s death was deemed a suicide by the magistrate. But Inspector Witherspoon is willing to risk his career to prove otherwise. Mrs. Jeffries must ensure the good inspector remains afloat.
Mrs. Jeffries Sweeps the Chimney
A dead vicar has been found, propped against a church wall. And Inspector Witherspoon’s only prayer is to seek the divinations of Mrs. Jeffries.
Mrs. Jeffries Stalks the Hunter
Puppy love turns to obsession, which leads to murder. Who better to get to the heart of the matter than Inspector Witherspoon’s indomitable companion, Mrs. Jeffries.
Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
The yuletide murder of an elderly man is complicated by several suspects—none of whom were in the Christmas spirit.
Mrs. Jeffries Appeals the Verdict
Mrs. Jeffries and her belowstairs cohorts have their work cut out for them if they want to save an innocent man from the gallows.
Mrs. Jeffries and the Best Laid Plans
Banker Lawerence Boyd didn’t waste his time making friends, which is why hardly anyone mourns his death. With a list of enemies including just about everyone the miser’s ever met, it will take Mrs. Jeffries’ shrewd eye to find the killer.
Mrs. Jeffries and the Feast of St. Stephen
’Tis the season for sleuthing when wealthy Stephen Whitfield is murdered during his holiday dinner party. It’s up to Mrs. Jeffries to solve the case in time for Christmas.
Mrs. Jeffries Holds the Trump
A very well-liked but very dead magnate is found floating down the river. Now Mrs. Jeffries and company will have to dive into a mystery that only grows more complex.
Mrs. Jeffries in the Nick of Time
Mrs. Jeffries lends her downstairs common sense to this upstairs murder mystery—and hopes that she and the inspector don’t get derailed in the case of a rich uncle-cum-model-train-enthusiast.
Mrs. Jeffries and the Yuletide Weddings
Wedding bells will make this season all the more jolly. Until one humbug sings a carol of murder.
Mrs. Jeffries Speaks Her Mind
Someone is trying to kill the eccentric Olive Kettering, but no one believes her, until she’s proven right. Without witnesses and plenty of suspects, Mrs. Jeffries will see justice served.
Visit Emily Brightwell’s website
www.emilybrightwell.com
Also available from Prime Crime:
The first three Mrs. Jeffries Mysteries in one volume Mrs. Jeffries Learns the Trade
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Emily Brightwell
THE INSPECTOR AND MRS. JEFFRIES
MRS. JEFFRIES DUSTS FOR CLUES
THE GHOST AND MRS. JEFFRIES
MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES STOCK
MRS. JEFFRIES ON THE BALL
MRS. JEFFRIES ON THE TRAIL
MRS. JEFFRIES PLAYS THE COOK
MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE MISSING ALIBI
MRS. JEFFRIES STANDS CORRECTED
MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES THE STAGE
MRS. JEFFRIES QUESTIONS THE ANSWER
MRS. JEFFRIES REVEALS HER ART
MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES THE CAKE
MRS. JEFFRIES ROCKS THE BOAT
MRS. JEFFRIES WEEDS THE PLOT
MRS. JEFFRIES PINCHES THE POST
MRS. JEFFRIES PLEADS HER CASE
MRS. JEFFRIES SWEEPS THE CHIMNEY
MRS. JEFFRIES STALKS THE HUNTER
MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE SILENT KNIGHT
MRS. JEFFRIES APPEALS THE VERDICT
MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE BEST LAID PLANS
MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE FEAST OF ST. STEPHEN
MRS. JEFFRIES HOLDS THE TRUMP
MRS. JEFFRIES IN THE NICK OF TIME
MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE YULETIDE WEDDINGS
MRS. JEFFRIES SPEAKS HER MIND
MRS. JEFFRIES FORGES AHEAD
Anthology
MRS. JEFFRIES LEARNS THE TRADE
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, b
MRS. JEFFRIES FORGES AHEAD
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / May 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Cheryl Arguile.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-51452-8
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This book is dedicated to Terry P. Waters, who I agree with on most subjects, except his well-meaning but misguided politics.
CHAPTER 1
“Where on earth did she get that gown? It’s too daring and bright a color for a married woman.” Lady Emma Stafford sniffed disapprovingly as she stared at the lovely redhead in the emerald green evening gown sitting on the far side of the Banfield ballroom. “I’m sure she’s wearing rouge as well. No one has cheeks that color; it can’t be natural.”
Geraldine Banfield exchanged a quick, amused glance with the other two women at their table, her houseguests Margaret Bickleton and Rosalind Kimball. Poor Emma’s complexion was such a bright shade of red one could see her coming from half a mile away! The Staffords might be aristocrats, but poor Emma was not only cursed with a florid complexion but she had jowls so loose they draped over the top strand of her diamond choker. Her hair was white, styled in youthful ringlets that made her look absurd and held up by silver combs encrusted with sapphires. But even the most skilled of dressmakers couldn’t disguise the fat threatening to burst out of the blue silk of her gown.
Lady Emma turned her attention back to her friends and gave Geraldine a condescending smile. “Oh dear, that was very unkind of me. I do hope you aren’t offended. But we’ve been friends for such a long time, I thought I could speak freely.”
Geraldine Banfield reached for her wine and took a sip before she responded. “I’m the first to admit that she’s certainly not the sort of woman I expected my nephew to marry. But she is family now so I would appreciate it if you’d be a bit more circumspect with your opinions.” She paused and leaned closer to her companions. “At least in public. You never know who is listening. The dark-haired man behind us is an old friend of hers.”
Margaret Bickleton glanced over her shoulder at the laughing group sitting at the next table. She was a tall skeleton of a woman with deep-set eyes enclosed by dark circles, thinning gray hair worn in a tiny bun at the nape of her neck, and a long, sharp nose. “You mean the man who needs a haircut? Goodness, he is unkempt; I’m surprised you let him into the house.” She picked a fleck of lint off the tight cuff of her beige chiffon sleeve.
“As I said, he’s a friend of Arlette’s,” Geraldine responded dryly. “I thought I told you at breakfast yesterday that she insisted on inviting her artist friends.”
“Artists indeed!” Margaret snorted delicately and gazed across the ballroom at the object of their conversation. “I’m surprised that Lewis allows her to mix with such people—and why is Lady Cannonberry sitting at her table? Surely those two aren’t friends.”
“But of course they are!” Rosalind Kimball exclaimed. She was a small, slender woman with stooped shoulders growing into a widow’s hump, frizzy brown hair, and a thin, flat line of a mouth. “Ruth Cannonberry is a member of that society that’s always agitating for something or other. I saw her outside of Parliament last year and she was marching with a bunch of other women and carrying a big sign about getting the right to vote. Honestly, voting, it’s unthinkable.” She glanced at Geraldine. “Frankly, I was surprised to see that you’d invited her tonight.”
Geraldine gave her a sour smile. “I had no choice in the matter; Arlette specifically asked that she be put on the guest list.”
“You could have refused,” Rosalind snapped and then clamped her mouth shut as she realized what she’d just said. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget you’re no longer mistress here.”
“No, not anymore,” Geraldine agreed with a shrug. “But I don’t mind giving up the role of lady of the manor. Running a house this size was becoming very tiresome. Arlette, despite her unusual background, has enormous energy and is actually very intelligent. She’s quite good at going over the household accounts.”
“From what I’ve heard, that’s not the only thing she’s good at,” Lady Emma said. The women laughed and continued staring at the table where Arlette Banfield was now taking a sip from a delicate blue champagne flute.
The Banfield ball was one of the premier events on the London social calendar, and everyone who was anyone in society was eager to be invited save for the woman sitting in a place of honor at the head table. Lady Cannonberry, or Ruth, as she was known to her friends, was there because she hadn’t been able to come up with a reasonable excuse to avoid the wretched thing and she’d not wanted to hurt Arlette Banfield’s feelings. She glanced at the pretty redhead seated next to her. Arlette was leaning back in her chair, trying to get someone’s attention on the far side of the huge room. Ruth sighed inwardly, she felt so guilty. She liked her hostess and found her to be kind, witty, and intelligent. But she really wished she were at home or having dinner with Gerald. There were times when a ball or a dinner party or a tea could be very useful, but as she wasn’t “on the hunt” just now, she was bored.
Ruth turned slightly and studied the others at her table. Her host, Lewis Banfield, was discussing business with Sir Ralph Fetchman while Lady Fetchman gossiped with a lady at the next table. Sir Adrian Fortnoy was waving his empty glass at a waiter while his wife, Ellen, lifted her wrist closer to the candelabra so Nora Kingsley could see her bracelet. Rufus Kingsley, Nora’s husband, was staring at the screens in front of the buffet and impatiently tapping his fingers on the tabletop. As she was sitting next to Rufus, she mentally decided to make sure she wasn’t in his way when the barrier between him and the food was removed. He looked quite capable of bowling her over.
Her attention shifted to the room. Women in pastel ball gowns of yellow, coral, and blue, this year’s favorite colors, moved between the tables, stopping here and there to chat while the orchestra members tuned their instruments. The French doors that led out onto the terrace were open, and the summer breeze sent the candles flickering but did little to cool the increasingly crowded room.
