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Bellfield Hall: Or, The Observations of Miss Dido Kent
Bellfield Hall: Or, The Observations of Miss Dido Kent
Bellfield Hall: Or, The Observations of Miss Dido Kent
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Bellfield Hall: Or, The Observations of Miss Dido Kent

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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1805. An engagement party is taking place for Mr Richard Montague, son of wealthy landowner Sir Edgar Montague, and his fiancee Catherine. During a dance with his beloved, a strange thing happens: a man appears at Richard's shoulder and appears to communicate something to him without saying a word. Instantly breaking off the engagement, he rushes off to speak to his father, never to be seen again.

Distraught with worry, Catherine sends for her spinster aunt, Miss Dido Kent, who has a penchant for solving mysteries. Catherine pleads with her to find her fiance and to discover the truth behind his disappearance. It's going to take a lot of logical thinking to untangle the complex threads of this multi-layered mystery, and Miss Dido Kent is just the woman to do it.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 2, 2010
ISBN9781429968225
Bellfield Hall: Or, The Observations of Miss Dido Kent
Author

Anna Dean

ANNA DEAN began writing early on under the impression that everyone was taught to do so in order to pen books. By the time she discovered her mistake, the habit was too deeply ingrained to give up. The author of Bellfield Hall, A Gentleman of Fortune, A Woman of Consequence, and A Place of Confinement, Dean lives in England.

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Reviews for Bellfield Hall

Rating: 3.7784090625 out of 5 stars
4/5

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    When her niece Catherine's betrothal hits a strange snag, Dido Kent finds herself among a house party full of secrets. Where has Catherine's fiancé gone? What can explain the curious behavior of certain other members of the party? And who shot the unidentified woman who was found dead in the shrubbery?There's a lot to like about this historical mystery. The writing is good, with plenty of clues and hints (I figured out at least some of the plot twists a little ahead of our protagonist) and red herrings. And, unlike some historical mysteries I've read recently, Dido reads as an authentic Georgian spinster, not a modern woman inserted into an historical setting. There's one sub-plot where every modern reader knows exactly what's going on, but Dido has no clue -- and yet, she still manages to deal with the situation effectively. Like I said, good writing. I did find Dido a little bit cold and calculating, but that's true of many fictitious detectives. Sherlock Holmes, for instance, is not exactly cuddly. So, if you enjoy historical mysteries, I'd recommend this one. I'll probably continue with the series sooner or later.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A truly excellent novel which we cannot rate too highly. An entertaining mix of a smidgen of a Georgette Heyer Regency Romance cum complex Georgette Heyer murder mystery BUT with the strong addition of Jane Austen barbed wit and sensibilities.Having read all four I am sure they are destined to become classics.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Ah ha ha ha ha ha, I Finally finished a historical mystery!

    Miss Dido Kent is a spinster aunt, whom along w/ her sister, Elsie (to whom she writes long boring letters to...that we get to read or not), has raised her niece Catherine. Catherine (spoiled & very head strong and does not get along w/ her step-mother) is engaged to a young man who has done a bunk towards the end their engagement ball and she calls upon her Aunt Dido to come solve the mystery of the missing fiancee.

    Shortly after arriving, Miss Dido Kent: learns of a body of an unknown young woman found in the hedgerow, deals with two very well off sisters who are being courted by two men of dubious reputation, and clears up some pretty deceptions.

    This was an engaging story that was simply told, but had just enough mystery to keep me interested. I like Miss Dido Kent's character & intelligence, but I do not like her letters to her sister, so for the most part I skip over them......
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A Moment of Silence is an entertaining murder mystery set in the early 19th century. It's the first in a series of novels featuring the wonderful Miss Dido Kent.The story begins when Dido is summoned to Belsfield Hall, the country estate of the Montague family. Her niece Catherine is engaged to Sir Montague's son Richard - who has mysteriously disappeared during their engagement party. Dido agrees to help Catherine solve the mystery behind Richard's disappearance, but events soon take a more sinister turn when a dead body is found in the shrubbery...This was a light, easy read which should appeal to fans of Jane Austen due to the setting and the elegant, witty writing style - although I'm not a huge Austen fan and I still loved it! A Moment of Silence has all the elements of a classic English country house mystery: clues, red herrings and lots of possible suspects, with almost every one of the guests and family members concealing a secret of some kind. Although some of the clues were quite obvious, there were others that I didn't figure out and the mystery was interesting enough to hold my attention right to the end.But rather than the mystery itself, the main reason I loved this book was because of Miss Dido Kent, who is a wonderfully engaging character. She's intelligent, observant and always speaks her mind, though usually in a good-natured way. Although we're not told exactly how old she is (unless I missed it) she's unmarried and her 'spinster' status gives her the freedom to investigate and to wander around the estate asking questions and interfering - always with the best intentions of course! I loved reading Dido's letters updating her sister Eliza on the progress of her investigations (we never actually meet Eliza, but the letters are intended to allow us some insights into Dido's private thoughts and musings).I can't wait to read more Dido Kent mysteries. This was a great start to the series and I'm looking forward to reading the second, A Gentleman of Fortune.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a charming mystery. I want to read the next one asap.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I adored this book. The writing is excellent, the characters believable and engaging, and the mystery satisfying. I especially enjoy that there is no scenes of explicit sex or violence. And I love happy, satisfying endings. Can't wait to read the next
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I like it - although she certainly doesn't rise to the level of Heyer she's in many ways above her contemporaries. The plots are interesting without feeling frenetic or over crammed, and the characters are enjoyable to read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Enjoyable heroine caught within the bounds of her society and class, quietly observing, finally solving a mystery.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    When Catherine Kent's fiance suddenly breaks off their engagement and vanishes, she is distraught. Who better than maiden aunt Miss Dido to rush to the country house of Catherine's in-laws-to-be, to solve the mystery of the missing heir and groom? And while there, also to solve the mystery of the young woman found murdered in the shrubbery?All the mystery happens before we start our journey with Miss Dido Kent, but we get plenty of shots at it with assorted re-tellings and interviews. Dido gets it all hopelessly wrong lots of times, but on each occasion her deductions seem logical. I spotted one or two things before she did, but they turned out to be wrong anyway. There was a great deal of plot thickening with assorted character twists and revelations, all great fun.Miss Dido Kent is right up there with my favourite investigating protagonists. She'll brook no nonsense, she indulges her niece too much, she knows her way in the world and doesn't stand on ceremony. The rest of the characters left a little to be desired - the bullying Sir Edgar, mad Lady Montague, the two silly Misses Harris and their busybody mother... it was a carefully crafted cast of caricatures. However, crucially, there were enough other characters to keep this interesting - often these ye olde country mysteries can feel a bit stifled when the guest list is too short. And there was the odd promising side character who might hopefully turn up in a sequel...Dean cheats a little, having Dido recount much of the tale through letters to her sister Eliza, but the writing is generally smooth and clever. Dido is given to some rather modern opinions for the time (or rather, less snobby opinions than one might have held in her position at the time) and unsurprisingly has a lot to say about the roles of women and professional people - which is of course what a modern reader wants! The sub-title was "Or, The Deductions of Miss Dido Kent" which sets the tone perfectly - a very cozy mystery but longer and better developed than other cozies (e.g. M. C. Beaton's works)I loved this - hopefully Dean will write some more Dido Kent mysteries! My copy of this had a preview of "A Gentleman of Fortune" in it so I shall be keeping an eye out for it!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I like historical mysteries. I also tend to gravitate toward book titles that sound like the names of stately homes. And the main character's name-- Miss Dido Kent-- rolls trippingly off my tongue. I had to give this book a try, and I am so glad that I did. Reading the first pages of Bellfield Hall is like sinking blissfully into a novel written by Jane Austen. The dialogue, the characters, the setting... they all ring true, and not as a slavish Pride and Prejudice knockoff. The character of Miss Dido Kent is a strange and wonderful blend of Jane Austen and Miss Marple. Her letters home to her sister are the perfect means to let readers into her thought processes. In one such letter she states, "Indeed, I begin to think that, terrible though this whole business is, it has at least the advantage of allowing full play to my genius, which I have long considered wasted in the contriving of new gowns and roast mutton dinners out of a small income; and if there was such a profession as Solver of Mysteries, I think I should do as well in it as any man."As indeed she would. Miss Dido Kent isn't the only draw to this novel. I loved the well-plotted mystery, the wonderful dry, witty sense of humor, and the feeling of being immersed in Regency England. I'm hoping that Miss Dido Kent's circle of acquaintance is wide enough for her to forsake contriving new gowns and roast mutton dinners on the cheap because I want to read many more books about this Solver of Mysteries.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was on my paperbackswap wishlist (I don't remember why); it became available, and I pounced. While still in a sort of "I don't care, there's too much crap going on for me to worry about reading anything besides what I want to read" mood I firmly ignored all the Netgalley books clamoring on the sidelines, picked this off the upper slopes of Mount TBR, and settled in. I loved it from the start. I was a little afraid at first – the Regency period spinster aunt swooping in to Detect felt like a mish-mash of various storylines that Have Been Done. Happily, this was, like Miss Dido Kent, highly individual – and delightful. You know how there are certain words that just aren't fashionable anymore, aren't used much anymore, just don't often apply to much anymore? "Delightful" is one of those. I do enjoy a book I can apply it to. In some ways it's not the most original premise in the universe – it feels like it borrows from everything from Austen to Miss Marple – but I don't say that to run it down. I say that to grin about how a really fine writer can merrily mix together familiar ingredients and produce something unique and lovely. Bellfield Hall is a bit of a classic English Country House Mystery (™), in that there is a group of people gathered together in a home not their own, and Miss Kent (coming in after the fact) must work with a topography and schedule and staff new to her to discover whether it is her niece's fiancé who has committed a dreadful murder – which is certainly what he has made it seem like, since he up and disappeared, breaking the engagement by letter with no real explanation before making his exit. Dido alone supports her niece in the belief that he had some other reasons, reasons of honor, to vanish, and Dido alone begins to dig. In the process of the investigation she comes to know the other temporary denizens of the house, most of whom must be considered suspects. There are the two sisters being shopped around by their father for husbands, who don't seem to be what they seem to be; there is the reckless young man who has gambled and drunk away a small fortune he never had in the fine Edwardian style of young dandies, and his honorable father who is going distracted trying to find a way to extricate his son, and himself, from the mess. The latter happens to be an intriguing gentleman, and handsome, and very attentive to Miss Kent … Dido makes for an interesting, engaging sleuth. She doesn't stray so very far from what is probable and acceptable in a woman of her period; she adheres to the mores of the time, for the most part, and manufactures plausible excuses for the departures she must make in order to find the truth. There's no pretense that she's Sherlock Holmes in skirts – she utilizes her particular skills (observation, good relations with the servants, and a knack for knowing what questions to ask combined with a disregard for unspoken rules that would prevent some of said questions), and gets herself into jams, and doggedly unravels the mystery. I enjoyed the format, partially epistolary as Dido writes to her sister with news and asking for counsel; the book is entirely from her point of view, and these segments of her first-person voice deepen the picture. I think the only problem I really have with the story is the love that begins to bloom for Dido. Besides the simple fact that it's kind of nice to have a mostly-un-angst-ridden spinster as the main character (doesn't everyone like to read characters they can easily identify with now and then?), the object of her affection, Mr. Lomax, is … inappropriate. His station is acceptable, I believe – but the problem I see with him is one that would be valid today: his son goes through money like water, and he takes very seriously the duty of repaying the son's debts. It's another indication of his honor – but it's also not really a situation likely to change. As long as Father steps forward to take care of his debts, how likely is the son to stop racking them up? However "on the shelf" Dido may feel (and in fact, in her society, be), however much she might like Mr. Lomax, the cold-blooded and practical must be considered: will her life be more or less precarious if she eventually marries this man? Yet at no point does the consideration really seem to trouble Dido. For someone as eminently sensible as she seems, this felt like a wrong step. Overall, I liked it very much, and I'm looking forward to the series. The mystery was not beyond the capabilities of someone like Dido; her motivations for involving herself didn't tax my willing suspension of disbelief; I'll have to deal with the keeps-tripping-over-murder-victims aspect of the cozy series further down the road. I liked Dido and the to-the-point letters from her sister, and the language in general. It's a keeper.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I just adore Victorian murder mysteries and this was no exception. Miss Dido Kent is a spinster who enjoys her freedom. And helping her family. This time it is her spoiled niece, Catherine who needs her help as her fiance has called off the engagement and disappeared. At first Dido thinks this may be for the best but soon realizes that Catherine truly loves Richard. Dido has a lot of sorting out do do as there are many odd characters staying at Bellfield Hall, plus the strange behavior of Richard's parents. And did I mention the dead body found in the bushes?This was fun and light read, but not an easy mystery to solve. I plan on reading the next installment soon.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A debut novel: Miss Marple does Regency England. Had some interesting elements and some choice tidbits about that time and life in a country manor. Dido is a good main character, though her personality is not fully drawn for me. Were I to read more in the series, I might come to like her better. A bit heavy handed in some things (aka the colonel's not being the marrying sort of man, the fate of poor Jack the footman), but some other subtleties were handled well. The mechanism of letter-writing to sister to reveal, didn't appeal to me, until sister actually wrote back in a no-nonsense sort of way.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Bellfield Hall is the first in a planned series of mysteries based in the Regency Era and the character of Miss Dido Kent.A fun book, rather light and not very challenging, but pleasant with enjoyable if not fascinating characters. I did enjoy the main character quite a bit which makes sense since this was really more about her than the mysteries she was trying to solve.Over all she did a good job of weaving at least three or four different plots throughout the book and making them fit the overall story without any of them feeling contrived or pasted on and she did a good job of invoking the Regency Era both in terms of atmosphere and character behavior and I really enjoyed the use of letter writing throughout the book to pass on information without feeling like she was sliding into exposition.I'm looking forward to more in this series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    First in new cozy mystery series featuring Miss Dido Kent. A sharp, observant woman in time & place where women of her class were there for decoration. A good read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    When Miss Dido Kent receives a mysterious letter from her favorite niece requesting her to come and stay at her fiance's home of Bellfield Hall on an rather urgent matter, Dido can not know what a journey the next few weeks will be. Dido's niece, Catherine, is engaged to be married to Richard Montague, the son of a wealthy estate owner but at their engagement ball Richard receives some distressing news and tries to persuade Catherine to call off the engagement. He than leaves Bellfield and Catherine with few answers as to his strange behavior. Not to mention the dead body of a young woman is discovered in the shrubberies of the garden on the property. Catherine enlists the help of her very clever spinster aunt Dido in uncovering the truth and helping in the search of her finance. I found the novel to be very entertaining and witty. Dido Kent is a wonderful heroine and I think that her observations and wit sparkle on page. I thought the writing style kept in smilier spirit of Stephanie Barron's Jane Austen Mystery series and I thought the plot was fun and concise. The mystery itself is a bit disappointing, some things are very obvious but it has some surprising twists based on small details that our Dido never fails to catch. I did really enjoy it and I think that it has great potential to become a series, for some major character development. I found myself becoming attached to each of the main characters and I can not wait to see what mystery our Dido can uncover next.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A Moment of Silence is an entertaining murder mystery set in the early 19th century. It's the first in a series of novels featuring the wonderful Miss Dido Kent.The story begins when Dido is summoned to Belsfield Hall, the country estate of the Montague family. Her niece Catherine is engaged to Sir Montague's son Richard - who has mysteriously disappeared during their engagement party. Dido agrees to help Catherine solve the mystery behind Richard's disappearance, but events soon take a more sinister turn when a dead body is found in the shrubbery...This was a light, easy read which should appeal to fans of Jane Austen due to the setting and the elegant, witty writing style - although I'm not a huge Austen fan and I still loved it! A Moment of Silence has all the elements of a classic English country house mystery: clues, red herrings and lots of possible suspects, with almost every one of the guests and family members concealing a secret of some kind. Although some of the clues were quite obvious, there were others that I didn't figure out and the mystery was interesting enough to hold my attention right to the end.But rather than the mystery itself, the main reason I loved this book was because of Miss Dido Kent, who is a wonderfully engaging character. She's intelligent, observant and always speaks her mind, though usually in a good-natured way. Although we're not told exactly how old she is (unless I missed it) she's unmarried and her 'spinster' status gives her the freedom to investigate and to wander around the estate asking questions and interfering - always with the best intentions of course! I loved reading Dido's letters updating her sister Eliza on the progress of her investigations (we never actually meet Eliza, but the letters are intended to allow us some insights into Dido's private thoughts and musings).I can't wait to read more Dido Kent mysteries. This was a great start to the series and I'm looking forward to reading the second, A Gentleman of Fortune.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Also published in the US as "Bellfield Hall",this is a very clever and entertaining book which starts with a body in the shrubbery and then piles on layers of mystery for the reader to solve. Or rather, the reader follows breathlessly behind the delightfully astute Dido Kent, a Regency lady sleuth, who gently teases the truth from the clues. An excellently-crafted novel with all the atmosphere and wit of classic Jane Austen,I loved the wickedly observant Dido Kent and will be over to the bookstore for more.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A broken engagement, a dead body, and a country house party; what do all of these have in common? Miss Dido Kent, a spinster with an admittedly curious nature, aims to find out. While the mystery was more cozy than I generally enjoy, and there was an odd sub-plot or two, I really enjoyed this book. Miss Dido is funny and intelligent and her voice will keep me looking for the sequel to this mystery.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Told partially in letters, this is the story of a murder and a twarted engagement, and mostly about secrets and lies. I have to admit that I kept thinking about deeper and nastier secrets and to be honest the biggest question/secret wasn't really resolved, though it was heavily hinted at.A story that would lend itself to sequels. I liked Dido and I thought she had a potential for more and possibly some further explorations of a possible relationship. The big fault I had with it was the lack of anchorage in a specific time, while the text states 1805 it didn't really have a good grasp of this and really could have been anytime in the 19th century
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Perceptive and self-aware, Miss Dido Kent puzzles out a country house party murder that threatens the happiness of her niece. Wry humor, dialogue and vocabulary appropriate to the time period, well-painted sense of place and time. A charming puzzler and an interesting protagonist. A bit much with the letter-writing, but otherwise very engaging.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Cosy country house mystery, set in the Regency. Partly third person narrative and partly narrated in the first person through the letters which Miss Dido Kent sends to her sister, the speech and the mindset of the characters are convincingly of the period, without any sense of over-cleverness or tweeness, and we get a real feel for the grim situation of the unmarried older woman, entirely dependant on the whims of her relatives and expected to move from household to household whenever her services as companion or nurse are required. A gently charming book to while away a rainy afternoon.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Evoking the times of Jane Austen, this mystery takes place at a country house. The spinster Dido Kent, is attempting to find out why her nieces fiancee has disappeared. Her deductive skills enliven the plot,very enjoyable.

Book preview

Bellfield Hall - Anna Dean

Chapter One

Bellfield Hall,

Monday, 23rd September 1805

My dear Eliza,

I must begin another letter to you, although it is not six hours since I sent my last. I have some news to communicate which I think will surprise you not a little.

Miss Dido Kent hesitated, her pen suspended over the page. All her education and almost thirty years’ experience of writing letters had not quite prepared her for this situation. As well as she could recall, the rules of etiquette said nothing about the correct way in which to convey the news that she now had to impart. However, her governess had once told her that the very best style of writing was that which gave information simply and clearly without any excess of sensibility.

She dipped her pen into the ink and continued.

There has been a woman found dead here – in the shrubbery – this evening.

She read what she had written, thought for a little while, then added:

It was the under-gardener who found her.

Her sister would wish to be reassured that it was not a member of the family, or one of their guests, who had made the horrible discovery.

Looking at the words gleaming blackly in the light of her candle, Dido thought for a moment how strange it was that something so extraordinary should be contained within the familiar, flowing pattern of the script, looking no more strange than a report upon the weather or an account of a sermon heard in church. Then she continued, her pen beginning to move more steadily as she found herself drawn away from the simple giving of information to that commentary upon men and women which seemed to come most naturally to her whenever she had a blank page before her.

No one knows who the dead woman can be. Sir Edgar and Lady Montague are quite sure that they know nothing of her. They are both, of course, deeply shocked. He, as you may imagine, is very much exercised over ‘what people will think,’ and how a dead woman in his shrubbery is likely to reflect upon ‘the honour of the family name’. Altogether, I think it is the novelty of the event which distresses him more than anything else; if only his ancestors – those innumerable previous Sir Edgars who stare at one from dark portraits in every conceivable corner of this house – had suffered the shock before him, then dead women in shrubberies would be a family tradition and hold no horrors for him at all. Meanwhile, her ladyship sits upon her sofa and wrings her hands and declares that ‘one does not know what to think’, hoping, I suppose, that someone will tell her what to think and so save her the trouble of forming an opinion of her own.

Her sister-in-law, Mrs Harris, is quite as animated upon the subject as my lady is languid and has been occupied with relating every shocking detail which she has been able to gather or can imagine – details which a woman of more sense would not give credit to, and one of more breeding would certainly not retail in the drawing room. Her husband, though one must believe he is a sensible man – or at least a clever one, or else how would he have made such a fortune in India? – instead of trying to check her, hangs upon her words and laughs over her extravagances as if they were the pinnacle of feminine wit and vivacity – a very disgusting display of conjugal affection which I think we might be spared from a husband and wife with more than twenty years’ married life behind them – and two grown daughters into the bargain.

The daughters in question are, I believe, as undecided as her ladyship over ‘what one should think’ and want to know whether interest, horror or indifference would be most becoming – or at least which Colonel Walborough would find most becoming. Although I think it might be a kindness to just mention to them that neither Miss Harris’s pursed-lip silence, nor Miss Sophia’s excessive sorrow over the death of ‘the poor, poor unfortunate woman,’ are likely to charm a sensible man.

The colonel himself seems to have expressed all that he feels upon the subject with a long, rather dull story which he told us at dinner about a similar incident that occurred when he was stationed in Bahama – at least I think it was Bahama. It was somewhere that has very hot weather and odd diseases. The colonel has not quite that power of narration which chains the listener’s attention. And then, when the story was done, Mr Tom Lomax must try to enliven our dessert by calling on Mr Harris to better it, since he was sure, from all he had heard from his numerous acquaintance in the place, that India was ‘as full of strange and shocking events as ever Bahama was.’ That sally did not amuse anyone, least of all Mr Harris, who seemed to be extremely discomposed by it; though I confess I liked it rather better than Mr Tom’s next attempt at wit, which was to lament that his friend Richard was not at home to ‘see all this carry on, which by G_ _ is as good as play!’ Which distressed poor Catherine terribly and I thought it quite unpardonable of him to draw attention to Mr Montague’s absence in that way. I was glad when Mr William Lomax – his father – spoke the only bit of sense we had heard all evening, calling him to order and reminding him to show a little respect for the dead. By the by, I am excessively fond of Mr William Lomax; he is so kindly and so well made and he has a very fine profile. He has also the very great recommendation of being a widower. And, all in all, I am rather sorry that I gave up the business of falling in love some years ago.

Well, I have given you a picture of them all now – except those who, I make no doubt, you most wish to hear of. And I expect to be thoroughly called to order by you in your next letter for abusing my fellow creatures so dreadfully. Remember that I quite rely upon your strictures, for why else do I allow my pen to run on so cruelly, but that you may prove yourself my superior in candour and liberality as you are in everything else?

And as for our nearest relations, well, they are as you have probably imagined them. Margaret is almost as concerned for the health and welfare of the name of Montague as Sir Edgar can be, for, ever since Catherine’s engagement to Mr Montague, she has considered the name as pretty much her own. And I daresay Francis feels the same; though I have not seen him. He left on business to town some hours before I arrived here. And dear Catherine? Well, to own the truth, she is too distressed over the business I explained in my last to notice much what happens around her. And yet, if this matter is not settled soon, I fear it will hurt her dreadfully.

You see, there is to be an inquest. It seems it cannot be avoided because of no one here even knowing who the dead woman is. Even the servants – and I have spoken to most of them myself – cannot guess who she might be. Though I suppose they may be lying.

She lifted her pen and smiled wryly at the last words, reflecting that she had not, as she wrote, thought to question the truth of the account which the baronet and his wife had given. She wondered whether to scratch the last words out, but decided that there was no need to spoil her neat white page, for Eliza would certainly see nothing amiss in what she had written. It was only her own strange mind which noticed such things. She continued.

So how she came to be in the shrubbery is almost as much of a mystery to us all as how she should be shot. For she was shot.

Another pause, for such details seemed indelicate. But Eliza would, quite naturally, wish to know, so: give the information simply and clearly and, of course, avoid excessive sensibility.

Well, it seems there was a great deal of shooting here today for the men from the house were out above three hours with their guns this morning. As is usual in these places, shooting is very much the order of the day and the gentlemen regard the birds as a kind of enemy army upon which they must wage a continual war. However, they are quite sure that there can have been no accident, for they were at the top of Cooper’s Spinney and there is the hill and the Greek Temple and the ha-ha too between there and the shrubbery.

We understand that the body was not to be seen at nine o’clock this morning when two of the gardeners were on the very spot trimming the laurels, and no strangers are known to have come to the house. No one from the house set foot in the shrubbery all day. I do not believe that this is much of a walking household. The Misses Harris are too much engaged in being accomplished to take a great deal of exercise and their mother must save all her breath to gossip with. Catherine, as you know, lost her taste for gardens when she lost her taste for dirt. Lady Montague does, I understand, usually walk out in the shrubbery at about three, but today she was indisposed and spent the whole morning in her dressing room.

And, by the by, this isolation of her ladyship did arouse the delightful fancy in my mind that perhaps she had found from somewhere the energy to creep out into the shrubbery with one of her husband’s shotguns and commit murder. However, I was obliged to abandon this intriguing idea when I discovered that her maid was with her all the time and the footman visited her repeatedly to take, at different times, logs for her fire, a letter and chocolate.

So, the main point is that no one has been able to give any information about what happened. The constable was here above an hour and searched the shrubbery with enthusiasm; but, finding no murderer concealed among the laurels, he has gone away again declaring that it is a mighty strange business and he ‘never saw the like of it before, and that’s a fact!’

And now Sir Edgar, who is the magistrate here, has told the coroner, Mr Fallows, that an inquest must be held – which will be of great interest to the whole neighbourhood, I don’t doubt, for no one can remember when there was last an inquest held here. Poor Catherine. I would hope that such an event, terrible though it is, might at least serve to divert the gossips from her sad affair; but with the woman dying within the very grounds of this house, I fear it may only fix their minds upon her. And…

She stopped and this time decided that the smoothness of the page must be sacrificed. She scratched out the last word. Some things were best left unsaid and her fear that the idle chatter of the neighbourhood might connect this dreadful event with Catherine’s disappointment was one of them.

She did not want to think that such a connection was possible.

She finished her letter with a hasty promise to write again as soon as there was more to tell, and blew out her candle – for she was a thrifty woman and wax candles were too costly to be wasted. Then she turned to the hearth where – even though this was the smallest and humblest of all the guest bedrooms in the house – there was a fire burning. It was but a small grate, and a small fire, giving little light and throwing long shadows from the old bed-curtains and turning the cloak and bonnet hanging on their peg behind the door into a hunched little fairy-story witch. But it was a fire nonetheless and a fire in a bedroom was a wonderful luxury. Dido held her hands to it gratefully as she turned matters over in her mind.

It was Catherine that she worried about. Which did not seem quite right with that unfortunate woman lying dead somewhere out in the stables. But, she reflected, it was really very hard to care for someone you did not know. One tried, of course – it was a Christian duty to show compassion for all God’s creatures; but the truth was that a dead woman without a name was more a puzzle than a grief. And Catherine’s anguish was much more immediate. After all, Catherine had asked for her help; she would not be here at all – she would have known nothing about the dead woman – if her niece had not asked for her.

Or ‘summoned’ her, as she had said herself to Eliza when she first received the letter.

For an invitation to Sir Edgar Montague’s country seat would most certainly not have found its way to Miss Dido Kent at Badleigh Cottage if the woman that Sir Edgar’s only son was engaged to had not demanded her presence.

Catherine had told her father, ‘I want Aunt Dido.’ The invitation had been requested, and Francis had sent off an express informing his sister of the precise hour at which the carriage would be at the door to bring her here. No one, least of all Dido herself, had considered that she might refuse to come. For family was family, she loved her niece dearly and, besides, since Francis paid as large a share of her allowance as any of her other brothers, he considered, like the rest of them, that her time was entirely at his disposal when it came to illnesses, lyings in, funerals, house removals or, as in this case, wayward daughters.

Catherine has always been difficult, he had written, and now, when she is at last to make us proud of her, I would not have anything go wrong through one of her strange fits of temper. This morning she has done nothing but weep and shut herself away from us all. You must talk to her, Dido, and, if there is any danger at all of her breaking off this engagement, get her to see sense. Make her see how foolish she would be to give up such an alliance.

Alarmed for her niece’s happiness, Dido had travelled in some uneasiness. It was a wretched journey and the final stage, enlivened as it had been by the company of Margaret, Catherine’s stepmother, was the worst part of all. For in between a lecture on Sir Edgar’s extreme wealth and a minute description of Bellfield and its grounds which encompassed almost the history of every window in the house and every tree in the parkland, Margaret repeated very determinedly, ‘She must not give up this engagement. I tell you, she must not!’

But, on arriving at the Hall, Dido had quickly discovered that Catherine had no thoughts of ending her engagement. The difficulty lay in quite a different quarter.

‘I think,’ Catherine had wailed tearfully within minutes of the two of them being alone together, ‘I think that he does not love me any longer.’

And then, before the distressed Dido could say a word about the danger of holding a man to a promise when his affection was lost, the girl had contradicted herself.

‘But he does love me,’ she sobbed. ‘I know he does. It is only…’

‘Only what, my dear?’

‘Only that he has taken a foolish idea into his head about it being better if we part.’

‘But why should he do that?’

‘I don’t know!’ Catherine thrust out her bottom lip, reminding Dido irresistibly of the three-year-old Catherine who, on the death of her mother, had been entrusted to the inexpert care of her young aunts. She used to look very much like this whenever they had had to drag her from rolling about and making mud pies in the garden to be scrubbed and presented to company in the parlour.

‘I don’t know,’ repeated Catherine, her blue eyes shining through her tears and her curls trembling with every little sob. ‘That’s what you have got to find out for me, Aunt.’ She mopped at her eyes and gave the smile which she had learnt could usually get her whatever she wanted. ‘You’re so clever. I know you can do it.’

The fire was burning low. Sighing deeply over the task she had been set, Dido bent to replenish the grate from the basket which was piled high with logs.

It was a curious fact that just at that moment Colonel Walborough, far away at the front of the house in the grandeur of the very best guest chamber, was reaching into his log basket and finding it empty. As he went shivering and cursing to his cold bed, the colonel would have been mortified to learn that the shabby little maiden aunt whom he had not thought worth talking to at dinner was comfortably toasting her toes before her fire, secure in the knowledge that there were two hot, flannel-wrapped bricks warming her small bed. But then, Colonel Walborough had had woodcock to kill today; he had not been able to spend any portion of his valuable time in talking to the housemaids, or administering cough mixture to the footman, or writing a letter for the kitchen maid to send to her brother in the army.

Dido had long ago learnt the trick of being comfortable in a great country house, and she usually enjoyed her visits to them very much indeed. But this time things looked bad and she doubted very much whether she would look back on her visit to Bellfield with much pleasure. For the story which half an hour’s questioning had got from Catherine had an unpromising sound to it.

Things did not bode well for her niece’s future happiness, even if – as she prayed would be the case – the late discovery in the shrubbery should prove to be quite unconcerned with her affairs.

Chapter Two

By Catherine’s account, her troubles had begun at the ball three nights ago, the ball which had announced her engagement to the neighbourhood.

Before the ball there had been nothing to concern her? Dido had wanted to be clear about that.

No, there had been nothing… Well, almost nothing. Once or twice in the weeks before the ball, Mr Montague had been a little quiet, but he had said that it was nothing but the headache. She had had no reason to suppose he was unhappy in the engagement. And even at the ball…for most of the night he had seemed very well satisfied.

It had been a very grand affair and it ought to have been one of the happiest nights of Catherine’s life. A memory to store up for the future; a triumph of successful love and beauty.

For Catherine would have been beautiful; she appeared to particular advantage in a ballroom. Her figure was light and graceful; her complexion was clear and delicate and, though sometimes thought lacking in colour, it had at least the advantage of not reddening in the heat of a country dance; and her hair, curling naturally, did not, like many fine coiffures, become lank and disordered as the evening wore on.

And her character, too, was as well suited to a ballroom as her person. In company, with a great many to please and be pleased, the sunniest aspects of her disposition were in full play and the little peevishness was hidden.

Dido could imagine her moving elegantly through Sir Edgar’s state rooms, among his hothouse flowers and his well-bred guests, charming everyone; even Margaret, watching eagerly from her seat by the fire with the chaperones, had probably found remarkably little to

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