AN UNSOLVABLE CRIME, page 1
THE MAID AND THE MANSION:
AN UNSOLVABLE CRIME
(The Maid and the Mansion Cozy Mystery—Book Four)
FIONA GRACE
Fiona Grace
Fiona Grace is author of the LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books; of the TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY series, comprising seven books; of the DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY series, comprising three books; of the BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY series, comprising six books; of the CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books; of the ELIZA MONTAGU COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the ENDLESS HARBOR ROMANTIC COMEDY series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the INN AT DUNE ISLAND ROMANTIC COMEDY series, comprising five books (and counting); of the INN BY THE SEA ROMANTIC COMEDY series, comprising five books (and counting); and of the MAID AND THE MANSION COZY MYSTERY series, comprising five books (and counting).
MURDER IN THE MANOR (A Lacey Doyle Cozy Mystery—Book 1), AGED FOR MURDER (A Tuscan Vineyard Cozy Mystery—Book 1), SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF MURDER (A Dubious Witch Cozy Mystery—Book 1), BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A KILLER CUPCAKE (A Beachfront Bakery Cozy Mystery—Book 1), and A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER (A Cats and Dogs Cozy Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Kobo!
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Copyright © 2024 by Fiona Grace. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally.
BOOKS BY FIONA GRACE
THE MAID AND THE MANSION COZY MYSTERY
A MYSTERIOUS MURDER (Book #1)
A SCANDALOUS DEATH (Book #2)
A MISSING GUEST (Book #3)
AN UNSOLVABLE CRIME (Book #4)
AN IMPOSSIBLE HEIST (Book #5)
INN BY THE SEA ROMANTIC COMEDY
A NEW LOVE (Book #1)
A NEW CHANCE (Book #2)
A NEW HOME (Book #3)
A NEW LIFE (Book #4)
A NEW ME (Book #5)
THE INN AT DUNE ISLAND ROMANTIC COMEDY
A CHANCE LOVE (Book #1)
A CHANCE FALL (Book #2)
A CHANCE ROMANCE (Book #3)
A CHANCE CHRISTMAS (Book #4)
A CHANCE ENGAGEMENT (Book #5)
ENDLESS HARBOR ROMANTIC COMEDY
ALWAYS, WITH YOU (Book #1)
ALWAYS, FOREVER (Book #2)
ALWAYS, PLUS ONE (Book #3)
ALWAYS, TOGETHER (Book #4)
ALWAYS, LIKE THIS (Book #5)
ALWAYS, FATED (Book #6)
ALWAYS, FOR LOVE (Book #7)
ALWAYS, JUST US (Book #8)
ALWAYS, IN LOVE (Book #9)
ELIZA MONTAGU COZY MYSTERY
MURDER AT THE HEDGEROW (Book #1)
A DALLOP OF DEATH (Book #2)
CALAMITY AT THE BALL (Book #3)
A SPEAKEASY DEMISE (Book #4)
A FLAPPER FATALITY (Book #5)
BUMPED BY A DAME (Book #6)
A DOLL’S DEBACLE (Book #7)
A FELLA’S RUIN (Book #8)
A GAL’S OFFING (Book #9)
LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY
MURDER IN THE MANOR (Book#1)
DEATH AND A DOG (Book #2)
CRIME IN THE CAFE (Book #3)
VEXED ON A VISIT (Book #4)
KILLED WITH A KISS (Book #5)
PERISHED BY A PAINTING (Book #6)
SILENCED BY A SPELL (Book #7)
FRAMED BY A FORGERY (Book #8)
CATASTROPHE IN A CLOISTER (Book #9)
TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY
AGED FOR MURDER (Book #1)
AGED FOR DEATH (Book #2)
AGED FOR MAYHEM (Book #3)
AGED FOR SEDUCTION (Book #4)
AGED FOR VENGEANCE (Book #5)
AGED FOR ACRIMONY (Book #6)
AGED FOR MALICE (Book #7)
DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY
SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF MURDER (Book #1)
SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF CRIME (Book #2)
SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF DEATH (Book #3)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A KILLER CUPCAKE (Book #1)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A MURDEROUS MACARON (Book #2)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A PERILOUS CAKE POP (Book #3)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A DEADLY DANISH (Book #4)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A TREACHEROUS TART (Book #5)
BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A CALAMITOUS COOKIE (Book #6)
CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY
A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER (Book #1)
A VILLA IN SICILY: FIGS AND A CADAVER (Book #2)
A VILLA IN SICILY: VINO AND DEATH (Book #3)
A VILLA IN SICILY: CAPERS AND CALAMITY (Book #4)
A VILLA IN SICILY: ORANGE GROVES AND VENGEANCE (Book #5)
A VILLA IN SICILY: CANNOLI AND A CASUALTY (Book #6)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER ONE
“What do you think, Mary? The pale sky blue, or the darker sapphire?”
Mary Adams narrowed her eyes, staring at the small tiles which would form accents in the striking mosaic wall at the back of the great ballroom. This was the last feature to complete, in the massive project of renovating Bellamy Hall.
The question had been asked, anxiously, by her second cousin, Lucas Everington. For the last few months, he’d been working on this rundown stately home in Herefordshire, turning it from a crumbling, spider-infested wreck, into an immaculate property that looked brand new, and was attractive to buyers.
When Lucas, a house restorer and reseller by trade, had set out to search for his remaining family, he’d discovered that twenty-three year old Mary was the only surviving member of her particular branch. Having tracked her down, Lucas had offered Mary and her friend Hannah a job, helping with this renovation project as cleaners and housemaids.
She'd jumped at the opportunity and the chance to work with a family member she'd never known she had. As well as sweeping, scrubbing and tidying, Mary had discovered she had an eye for design, and had helped Lucas with some of the color choices, and the rooms’ layout and furnishings.
Now, there was a lot riding on this decision.
The refurbished Bellamy Hall had recently been bought by Lord and Lady Hardwick, who were busy moving in.
Mary hadn’t seen much of Lord Hardwick, who seemed to spend most of his time either on the back of a horse, or socializing outside the estate’s walls. She’d seen much more of Lady Hardwick, a brisk, lean-faced woman in her early forties.
It hadn’t taken Mary long to realize that Lady Hardwick was both fussy and critical. Her favorite time to comment on a repair job was after it had been done.
If she didn’t like the tile colors, it would mean a time-consuming and expensive redo.
“Hmmm.” Mary knew she shouldn’t consider her own preference here, which would be for the darker blue, providing a more intense contrast with the white and pale gold tiles. Instead, she had to think of what Lady Hardwick would prefer. She was the decision maker in the family.
The Hardwicks had one grown son who was studying in New York, six horses who’d moved into the stables the day after the sale had been concluded, and a large, tabby cat called Bailey, who shunned the house and seemed to spend most of his time down at the stables, catching rats and mice.
“You can’t ask Lady Hardwick now?” she said.
Lucas sighed, running his hands through his butter-blond hair – exactly the same color as Mary’s – and giving a frustrated sigh.
“She’s currently busy measuring all the shelves I put in, in the fifteen guest bedrooms, looking to see if any of them are different in size or height. They aren’t, but she’s insisting on checking anyway and won’t stop until she’s finished. Plus, she could easily decide on one color, and then change her mind when she sees it,” he said.
“In that case, I would go for the pale blue,” Mary said. “Remember when you used a deeper violet for her bathroom tiles,
Lucas nodded, looking more confident than Mary felt about this potentially difficult choice.
“That makes sense. Pale blue it is.”
At that moment, brisk footsteps sounded from the passageway, and Mary spun around. Was this Lady Hardwick coming in to check if there was any dust on the floor? If so, at least Lucas would get a chance to ask her about the tile colors.
But the person who rounded the corner, with a stressed and harassed look on her face, was Mary’s friend Hannah.
“Hannah!” Instantly, Mary saw that her friend looked upset. Anger and resentment flared from her. A few of her brown curls had come loose from under her headscarf, and she was shaking them back angrily, stomping her feet as she strode.
“Never,” she snapped through gritted teeth, “have I been spoken to so rudely.”
“What happened?” Mary rushed over to her in concern.
“Let’s talk about it outside.” Huffing with annoyance, Hannah made for the door, with Mary hurrying behind her.
Outside, where a warm spring breeze was rustling the hedge plants, and causing daffodils to nod in the green meadows beyond, her friend let out an angry snort.
“I never thought I’d be grateful to see this job finishing up soon, and the Hardwicks’ staff moving in.”
“You’re grateful?” Mary stared at her in surprise.
Over the past three weeks, as the cooks and maids, the butlers and footmen, the gardeners and grooms, had moved from the Hardwicks’ old residence to take up duties in this one, Mary’s sense of worry had been increasing.
The Hardwicks had their own staff, and would not require Mary and Hannah to stay on. She’d hoped to have had another job lined up, but as yet, nothing had materialized. With the buyers’ staff all in place, and the renovations finished, their days here were numbered, and she and Hannah had penciled in this weekend as a probable date for moving out.
“Lord Hardwick is an overbearing bully! If you thought his wife was bad – well, all I can say is avoid him. At all costs!”
“Was he rude to you?”
"He ordered me around just now as if I was one of his own servants and not working for Lucas at all. I was busy for an hour, straightening rugs and putting horse riding trophies on the drawing room shelves, and he treated me and the other staff like dirt the entire time."
“Hannah, that’s terrible!
“It gets worse.”
Mary's eyes widened as Hannah lowered her voice while she removed her headscarf and rearranged it more neatly.
“Worse, how?”
“I was holding my tongue, saying nothing, knowing that we need to be polite because we’re looking for work. But one of the other housemaids mentioned to him that I was Lucas’s employee, and just helping out as a favor. And at the word Lucas – well, he went off like a rocket.”
“He doesn’t like Lucas?” Mary asked.
Hannah shook her head. “Clearly not. Maybe he resents the fact Lucas is self-made, rather than highborn? At any rate, he was saying such insulting things about him that I had to bite my tongue, never mind just hold it. It felt like he was deliberately provoking me.”
Rude to Lucas? How dare he, Mary thought, feeling irate.
“I’m so sorry. That is totally unacceptable. No wonder you’re upset.”
Mary hoped this inherent grudge wouldn't lead to a confrontation between the imperious Lord Hardwick and her usually easygoing second cousin. With any luck, the two men wouldn’t be in close enough proximity. But then, with a sick feeling, she realized they would be – and soon.
“There’s that event tonight, isn’t there? The one that the Hardwicks’ staff are busy preparing for? And both Lucas and Lord Hardwick will be there?”
“Yes. The official housewarming party.” Hannah nodded. “Lucas has been invited as the home's renovator. Monsieur Lepeche, the cook, and Mrs. Cecil, the housekeeper, asked yesterday if we’d help out with preparing and serving the dinner, because they’re expecting around thirty guests, and I agreed. Now, I wish I hadn’t.”
“I’m glad I didn’t hear Lord Hardwick talking badly about Lucas,” Mary said, her heart plummeting as she helped Hannah retie her headscarf in a neat bow behind her head. “And thank you for warning me. At least I’ll know what to expect tonight during dinner service, and make sure that I force myself to keep calm if Lord Hardwick does say anything out of line.”
She felt badly for the household staff, who’d seemed friendly toward them so far, and didn’t deserve an overbearing bully for a boss, although she guessed that having moved from the Hardwick’s old place, they must be used to this treatment.
“I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t insult somebody, most probably poor Lucas. Horrible man! We’ll be well out of it when we leave,” Hannah emphasized, her tone giving Mary some much-needed reassurance that leaving Bellamy Hall had its advantages.
Perhaps now those butterflies in her stomach would stop fluttering around at the thought of what next week would bring.
She and Hannah headed back inside, walking down the corridor that led from the ballroom to the home's lavish entrance hall.
But then, as Mary glanced out of one of the corridor’s narrow windows, those butterflies all took off inside her for another reason.
A car was pulling up outside the front door – one she recognized. One she'd been eagerly looking out for these past few weeks. The shiny Bentley belonged to Gilbert MacLeod.
Last time they’d seen each other, they’d shared a kiss, and Mary could still remember every spine-tingling moment of it. She’d thought about it, and about him, nonstop since then.
Now, he was here again. Time to see if he still felt the same way when he saw her – and likewise.
“I have to go,” she said, taking in Hannah’s knowing look as she rushed toward the hall.
CHAPTER TWO
This was the longest separation she and Gilbert had had from each other since they’d first met up at the estate where Mary had been working, and Gilbert visiting.
There had been an instant spark between them, and in their brief meetings since then, it had kindled into a flame. But would it still be there now, Mary worried, with a stab of nerves as she headed into the enormous, carpeted entrance hall. It had been two months and two days and sixteen hours since that kiss – not that she’d been counting, of course.
They hadn’t been out of contact with each other in the interim, thank goodness. They’d kept in touch via correspondence – with some difficulty, as Gilbert had been traveling all over the north of Britain, busy with his family’s seed business. But the Royal Mail delivered reliably throughout the country, sometimes even the same day if a letter was posted early, and otherwise, the next day.
Whenever Gilbert had been staying somewhere for more than one night, he’d written Mary a letter with his latest address, and she’d written a letter back immediately, so that he’d receive her reply before he moved on.
That system had worked perfectly. Mary now had a small but treasured pile of letters from him, which she eagerly grabbed up from the pile of mail that was sorted by the butler twice a day. Her letters were always placed in the letter rack on the table at the back of the kitchen, which was reserved for the servants’ mail.
Thanks to those letters, she had learned much more about Gilbert than she’d known before. She’d learned that he loved dogs, but that his very favorite animals were the two young ginger cats his mother had adopted.
She learned that he hated porridge, which was a very difficult predicament for someone living on an estate bordering Scotland. Everyone proudly gave him porridge oats when he traveled, expecting him to be pleased. And he’d told her that the thing that made him maddest in the world was people who refused to let go of old, wrong, cruel beliefs when new knowledge was available.
In turn, she’d told him that one of her dreams was to be a writer one day, to write stories based on her own experiences and adventures as a housemaid and a factory worker. She thought they'd be of interest to readers if she focused on all the exciting and dangerous parts of her life. Even if she had to put that ambition aside for a while, and focus on studying for a career such as school teaching, as soon as she could afford to go to college.
