Page 19 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

CHAPTER FOUR

Dory poked her head cautiously round the door of the small drawing-room. Mr Sebastian was seated at the piano, a cigar clenched in his teeth, his head tilted back to avoid the smoke. His hands were rippling across the keys. When he saw her he continued to ripple with his right hand, while with his left he removed the cigar and placed it in the ashtray on the piano-top, and said, ‘Yes, that’s right, come in! I’m ready for some conversation.’

‘I don’t want to disturb you, sir.’

‘I was just doing scales and arpeggios. Trying to keep the old hands flexible.’

Dory looked innocent. ‘I thought p’raps it was one of those modern composers that don’t hold with tunes.’

Sebastian gave her a mock scowl. ‘Don’t be naughty, miss. Sit down there and talk to me – and do some mending, in case anyone comes. Here, is this enough of a tune for you?’

‘That’s nice,’ Dory said, settling in the chair he had previously placed where he could both see and hear her. ‘I could nearly sing to that. What is it?’

‘Schubert, “The Trout”.’

‘It’s pretty.’

‘Tell me what’s going on in the house. Is Lady Kitty really all right after her fall?’ He referred to her that way in their conversations to distinguish her from the dowager countess.

‘Oh, quite,’ said Dory. ‘Young things like her carry easily – their insides are like elastic bands. It’s older ladies who have to be careful.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. She seemed all right at breakfast, but of course she wouldn’t tell me anything. What’s happening below stairs? Who is William in love with these days?’

‘Still Milly.’

‘Amazing. That’s lasted a long time.’

‘Longer than I did. He was over me in weeks. I should feel insulted, shouldn’t I?’

‘Do you crave the admiration of such as William?’

‘No, sir. But a woman has her pride.’

His left hand stumbled a note. He vamped a little while he retrieved his cigar, waved it and said, ‘Do you mind?’

‘No, sir,’ said Dory. Seeing that it had gone out, she stood, picked up the matchbox and struck a match for him so that he could keep playing. With the lightest touch he guided her hand. When the cigar had caught, he looked up at her from under his shaggy brows, and for a moment their eyes met. Then she drew back, blew out the match and sat again.

‘I think Milly’s getting tired of being mooned over, though,’ she resumed, as if there had been no interruption. ‘She was too shy when she first came to say anything, but I happen to know there’s a nice boy in the village who’s interested in her, and she’s afraid he’ll find out about William and get the wrong idea.’

‘Age-old problem.’ Sebastian nodded. ‘The Two Suitors. Sounds like a Sherlock Holmes story, doesn’t it? But life is hard for the acknowledged beauty. Though she’s a little too much “white mouse” for my taste.’ Dory smiled at that and shook her head. ‘What else?’

‘There was a big fuss yesterday over some wine. There was a delivery from the merchant, and Mr Moss had James – Hook, I mean – help him put it away in the cellar and record it in the cellar book. Then Hook starts checking the book against the bins, and says there’s bottles missing. Mr Moss was terribly upset. The cellar key never leaves him, he says, so nobody could have taken it. Hook said he must just have forgotten to record some bottles when he brought them up for the table.’ She glanced up at Sebastian. ‘Mr Moss doesn’t like that suggestion either, because it would mean he was careless or forgetful or—’

‘Yes?’

‘Hook says he’s getting too old for the job.’ Dory made a face.

Sebastian looked thoughtful. ‘He’s an ambitious man, James Hook. I was aware of it when he used to valet me. He’d like to be butler himself.’

‘He’s not the right sort for a butler, though. Hasn’t got—’

‘The gravitas?’ Sebastian suggested.

Dory didn’t know the word, but it sounded right. She nodded. ‘Course, it seems most likely that Mr Moss did forget to mark out a bottle. Or else wrote the wrong figure down by mistake, or read it wrong in the first place. A three can look like an eight. It’s easily done. Doesn’t mean a person isn’t fit for their job.’

There was such a thing as loyalty among servants, and she didn’t mention that Mr Moss had once or twice fallen heavily asleep in his chair in the butler’s room in the evening and had had to be roused to go to bed. It would be possible for an unscrupulous person to lift the key from his chain while he was comatose and gain access to the cellar. She didn’t want to suggest that, either. It wasn’t right to throw suspicion without proof.

After a pause she changed the subject. ‘Oh, I don’t know if you heard: Josh Brandom – Lady Alice’s groom – has broken his foot or his ankle or something. He was exercising one of the horses and it slipped on the hill and fell, and his foot was caught under it. Dr Welkes plastered it up and says he can’t ride for three weeks at least. Josh never was the sweetest-tempered man, and now he’s worse than ever. Won’t sit quiet with it up, like anybody would, but hobbles about the stableyard on a crutch telling everybody what to do. I hear Mr Giddins is close to lamping him one, bad foot or no bad foot.’