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    Death At Wentwater Court: The First Daisy Dalrymple Mystery
    Death At Wentwater Court: The First Daisy Dalrymple Mystery
    Death At Wentwater Court: The First Daisy Dalrymple Mystery
    Ebook259 pages4 hours

    Death At Wentwater Court: The First Daisy Dalrymple Mystery

    By Carola Dunn

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    In a series debut from Carola Dunn that is sure to delight fans of the classic British cozy mystery, Death at Wentwater Court brings readers old and new back to the "golden age" of mystery.

    It's the early 1920s in England--the country is still recovering from the Great War and undergoing rapid social changes that many are not quite ready to accept. During this heady and tumultuous time, the Honorable Daisy Dalrymple, the daughter of a Viscount, makes a decision shocking to her class: rather than be supported by her relations, she will earn her own living as a writer.

    Landing an assignment for Town & Country magazine for a series of articles on country manor houses, she travels to Wentwater Court in early January 1923 to begin research on her first piece. But all is not well there when she arrives. Lord Wentwater's young wife has become the center of a storm of jealousy, animosity, and, possibly, some not-unwanted amorous attention, which has disrupted the peace of the bucolic country household.

    Still, this is as nothing compared to the trouble that ensues when one of the holiday guests drowns in a tragic early-morning skating accident. Especially when Daisy discovers that his death was no accident....

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateMay 15, 1994
    ISBN9781466820616
    Death At Wentwater Court: The First Daisy Dalrymple Mystery
    Author

    Carola Dunn

    CAROLA DUNN is the author of many mysteries featuring Daisy Dalrymple, including Sheer Folly, Gone West and Heirs to the Body, as well as numerous historical novels. Born and raised in England, she lives in Eugene, Oregon.

    Read more from Carola Dunn

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    Reviews for Death At Wentwater Court

    3.5/5

    312 ratings27 reviews

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    • 3/5
      Take a step back in time when mysteries were solved by questioning not forensics. Fast enjoyable read.
    • 3/5
      Digital audiobook performed by Bernadette DunnDaisy Dalrymple is the daughter of a Viscount, but she has made the rather shocking decision to make her own way as a writer. She lands an assignment for a series of magazine articles on country manor houses, and finds herself at Wentwater Court in January 1923 to begin research on her first piece. Lord Wentwater’s young wife has recently been the focus of some unwanted amorous attention, and several guests express obvious jealousy and animosity. So the atmosphere is tense and somewhat uncomfortable … and then one of the house guests drowns in an ice skating accident. Or was it murder?I really enjoyed this cozy mystery debut. Daisy is a delightful central character and amateur sleuth. She smart, resourceful, observant, and compassionate. The plot is sufficiently complicated to keep the reader guessing; I identified the culprit only a few pages ahead of Daisy. I also like the developing new relationships between Daisy and Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher. I’m a little unhappy with how the book ends –but it’s true to the time, place and social class. Bernadette Dunn does a fine job voicing the audio book. She reads at a good pace, and I was never confused about which character was speaking.
    • 5/5
      This is the first in the series and although I thought I had read all of the Daisy D books, this was not at all familiar. I really liked seeing how the series started knowing where it was going. Dunn is a very smooth writer and I never got jerked out of the period by an anachronism.
    • 4/5
      I was very taken with the lively mystery Death At Wentwater Court by Carola Dunn that is the first in the series of mysteries that feature the Honorable Daisy Dalrymple. Set in the 1920s, Daisy is the daughter of a viscount but prefers to earn her own living. On assignment for Town and Country Magazine, she arrives at Wentwater Court to write about the Earl and his family. When a death occurs and the police are called, Daisy meets the handsome Scotland Yard Inspector Alec Fraser. Since everyone at the estate is under suspicion, Daisy acts as the liaison between the working class police and the landed gentry. Sympathetic, intelligent and inquisitive, Daisy figures out who the murderer is and is also able to suggest a solution that is most pleasing to everyone concerned.Since Daisy seems to show a knack for crime solving I expect that she and the Inspector will be spending a lot of time with each other in subsequent books. Death at Wentwater Court is the first in this series of over twenty mysteries and I expect that I will be delving into a few more of these cozy mysteries as I enjoyed this one very much.
    • 3/5
      3.5. Very good narrator and fun English cozy that takes place in the 1920s.
    • 4/5
      Death at Wentwater Court
      3.5 Stars

      The Honorable Miss Daisy Dalrymple is invited to Wentwater Court to interview the Earl of Wentwater and photograph the estate for Town and Country magazine. But when another guest is found dead, Daisy finds herself working with DCI Alec Fletcher from Scotland Yard to uncover the identity of a killer.

      Daisy is an engaging heroine, and her sleuthing skills are actually better than the heroines of similar cozy-historical mysteries, such as Lady Georgie (Her Royal Spyness) and Bess Crawford. She is intelligent and resourceful without being arrogant or patronizing, and her interactions with Fletcher are believable despite the fact that she is not a police officer.

      The mystery itself is quite straightforward and progresses at a smooth pace with numerous suspects and motives to sort out. That said, the revelation is sudden Daisy stumbles across it almost accidentally, and Daisy's actions in helping the culprit escape justice are morally ambiguous at best. The entire situation at the end reeks of elitism.

      All in all, a good beginning to the series and I look forward to seeing how Daisy and Fletcher's relationship develops.
    • 4/5
      The Honorable Daisy Dalrymple is a journalist, trying to make a life for herself outside her family When she is given the assignment to write about the family at Wentwater Court, it looks like it will simply be a routine assignment. But then a death occurs, and brings all the family secrets to light.Daisy is a really strong, fun, smart, and likable female character. She assists the police, and stands on her own two feet, contributing a lot to the investigation. The budding romance between her and the detective is a great and believable one.I love mansion murder mysteries, and this is a good one. There are so many family secrets, and so many clues in the various rooms.Before the actual murder, the book moves a little slowly. But once it picks up, it really gets going.I can see this becoming one of my favorite cozy mystery series. I definitely want to get my hands on the rest of the books.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 3/5
      As sweet and comfortably domestic as a murder mystery can be. When the Honorable Daisy Dalyrmple visits a school chum's ancestral home to write a magazine article, she does not expect to find a roiling mess of emotions and secrets. The earl's new wife is young, beautiful, and clearly caught up in something with the underhanded Lord Stephen. And when Lord Stephen is found dead, everyone is a suspect.

      Daisy and her new friend, Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher, try to sort out the tangled loyalties and motives, and while they do so each finds themselves quite attracted by the other. An unprompted confession and explanation later, the story ends, leaving readers with the memory of some lovable characters and a well-wrought snapshot of 1920s Britain.
    • 3/5
      Mostly enjoyable first book in a cozy mystery series set in England during the 1920s. I did find myself questioning some of the slang used (such as a maid in a country house saying "wizard" to mean 'cool', 'neat', 'exciting' -- I know that this term originated in the early 1920s but it seems out of place for this character).I also had some problems with the ending. While I sympathized with the desire of the family to avoid a scandal, I am opposed to the idea of letting the guilty go free. This was in fact manslaughter rather than murder and the possibility of working out a deal seems high. Because of this, I am unsure whether I will continue with this series...
    • 4/5
      cosy-mystery, england, 1920s, family-dynamics, friendship, death-investigation, law-enforcement, due-diligence, theft*****The best thing is that I get to see the characters as they improve in clarity and presence as well as listen to Bernadette Dunne narrator settle into the roles of the characters as the series progresses.This is first in series and we get to meet all the main characters for the first time. I had started with the one after this, and while it did well enough as a stand alone, I wanted to begin at the beginning. The plot is well drawn and the conclusion is startling but it's the characters that really drive the story! Especially when it appears that another case might be involved. Loved it!
    • 4/5
      Now, I am fond of this era of book, the interwar period is a sweet spot for my reading pleasure. This one falls well into the era and echoes many of the writers of the period. She does point out gently that the habit of letting upperclass killers away with it is abuse of privelidge, and I found it an interesting counterpoint to Agatha Christie et al. Daisy Dalrymple is trying to break into journalism, visiting Wentwater Court to do an article for Town & Country magazine using the fact that she knows some of the people to get admittance. The next morning a body is found and she's pulled into the investigation. And pulled into finding the investigating officer interesting. I liked it, I want to read the next book soon.
    • 4/5
      When journalist Daisy Dalrymple goes to Wentwater Court to write a magazine article about the estate, she finds herself in the middle of a murder investigation. One of the guests is found face down in the nearby pond and Chief Detective Inspector Alec Fletcher of Scotland Yard has come to investigate. He relies on Daisy’s help to get the information he needs. Strange and intense secrets come to light between family members and guests at the estate.Death at Wentwater Court is the first installment in the Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries by Carola Dunn. I listened to an audio edition published by Blackstone Audio Inc. Agatha Christie meets Downton Abbey in this story set in Britiain 1923. We follow Daisy Dalrymple who comes from a wealthy family, but wants to work as a journalist. She discovers intrigue both past and present among the family and guests. Lord Stephen Astwick is found face down in the nearby pond. Many of the inhabitants had it in for him as he was a swindler, extortionist and a cad. Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher of Scotland Yard comes to investigate the case. Daisy is a skilled stenographer and takes very helpful forensic photographs for the police and helps with valuable insight into the family.Main character Daisy Dalrymple, 25, is the daughter of a baron. Family and guests trust her and she clearly knows her way around the rich and titled, but I felt she took over and behaved a bit like the hostess instead of the guest at times.Supporting character Annabel, Countess of Wentwater seems desperately unhappy. I was pleased to see Annabel trusted Daisy because she seemed to be in need of a friend. She was my favorite character in this story.Different from Agatha Christie’s plots is that the sleuth arrives before the murder happens. The setting is an isolated opulent place. Guests and people who live at the manor all become suspects. While investigation is ongoing, police order everyone to stay put. All this is similar to Agatha Christie’s plots. Not similar is the questioning of servants as a vital source of information about the family.Following some exciting twists and turns, the ending was a thoroughly shocking surprise I could never have anticipated.The dialogue and language in this story were very entertaining. It felt like seeing a movie. Skating as the winter activity for the wealthy was an enjoyable and different element I haven’t read about before. I loved the unique and amusing, posh language which drew me into the story. My favorite part of the story was descriptions of Alec’s thought process and deliberations during the investigation and when Alec and Daisy discussed the findings of the investigations.My least favorite part was descriptions of the intrigue and dysfunctional family relationships within this family.Conclusion: Death at Wentwater Court is the Agatha Christie meets Downton Abby like story which included some exiting twists along the way and a surprise ending in more ways than one. Fans of Carola Dunn will love this book. As will readers who enjoy the cozy mysteries genre. Similar authors to explore might be Rhys Bowen or Victoria Thompson.Rating: 4 stars / 5 Main reasons: interesting plot, great language and dialogue, very surprising ending
    • 3/5
      Okay. An easy read but Daisy and her childhood buddy—as well as a few others—are caricatures, not characters.
    • 5/5
      This lighthearted Downton Abbey era 1920’s mystery totally charmed me. Daisy Dalrymple comes from a titled family, but after her brother was killed in the Great War and her father died in the flu epidemic their estate passed to a distant relative (shades of Jane Austen!) leaving the remaining female family members somewhat impoverished. Daisy is quite cheerful about working for a living though, and being a society girl doors open for her, so she’s off to Wentwater Court to to write a story for Town & Country magazine. Then nasty Lord Stephen Astwick dies in what looks like an early morning ice skating accident bringing police on the scene. Naturally Daisy is ready to help officials and the family in any way she can, placing her in the heart of the investigation. The handsome detective in charge isn’t, of course, in her class, but Daisy is an open minded young woman so who knows what may develop in the course of this series? This is the first of so far 21 books and another is coming out in June 2015 so I envision many happy hours of reading.
    • 4/5
      Aw that was very nice. I loved Daisy, she's such a comfort. I also really enjoyed the atmosphere and the cast of characters - Daisy knows them already which made a nice change from stories where the detective just pops up in a community to carry an investigation. The resolution is unusual and slightly unrealistic but very humane and well explained. Overall, a good cosy with plenty of details and a lovely pace. I look forward to more.
    • 4/5
      Daisy Dalrymple finds herself in an awkward place at Wentwater Court. There to write an article for Town & Country magazine in her new job adventure, she finds the family at odds, and a corpse in the ice. What's a girl to do?I was delighted with this story. It made me laugh, and to my surprise, it made me cry, too. Not many cozy mysteries have the power to do that, but Carola Dunn has a way with her characters. She endears them to us, warts and all.
    • 3/5
      The first in the Daisy Dalrymple series–a journalistic assignment sends Daisy to Wentwater Court where she finds more than an old family estate when Lord Stephen Astwick apparently drowns during an ice skating accident. Will Daisy’s photos help the police, and what will her relationship be with the handsome Scotland Yard Detective, Alec? A nice opener to a cozy mystery series though like many first books, the establishment of the key players makes it a bit slow.
    • 4/5
      Daisy Dalrymple arrives at Wentwater Court to write an article about the house and its occupants. While she is staying there another guest of the house meets an untimely death. At first they all think it’s an accident, until Daisy notices something that suggests it might not be. Scotland Yard is called in and Alec Fletcher from C.I.D arrives to investigate the incident. As the facts are unravelled it becomes clear that everyone in the house has a secret, but which of them would kill for it?This is an intriguing mystery that kept me guessing throughout. The characters are interesting and I enjoyed discovering their secrets. There seems to be a romance blossoming between Daisy and Alec, I would like to see this develop through further books in the series alongside other intriguing mysteries.The book is set in the 1920′s, and it is written so naturally that I felt as though I was right there.
    • 4/5
      This is the first in the Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries, which I've heard about for years but never got to them through my towering TBR pile.Daisy is a young aristocrat who is in a new world, the world after World War I. Life is changing in so many ways and Daisy has taken up writing as her profession. Her first big assignment is to go to the country home of Lord Wentwater and take photographs, get some background on the family and write up a long article on the family and family home.Once there Daisy is pulled into intrigue and eventually, murder. Another guest at Wentwater is a Lord Stephen Astwick, who seems very sinister and an odd fit in the house party.Daisy gets into the middle of the murder investigation because everyone involved, including the police inspector, seem to trust her and want her to hear all their versions of the tale.I enjoyed this, I will have to read more in the series.
    • 4/5
      Daisy Dalrymple goes to Wentwater Court to write an article for a magazine on the country estate. Daisy wants to earn her own way, even though she is of a class where most women would not work. It's not long until the body of a man that no one really likes is found in the ice. It appears to be an accident until Daisy notices an irregularity in one of the photographs she took at the scene. Although it should have been assigned to the local constable, the family is able to use its influence to get an inspector from Scotland Yard involved. He notices a tie-in to a case he's already working. He involves Daisy in the investigation. I found that particular element of the book to be the most far-fetched thing. A Scotland Yard DCI is not going to involve a civilian in a matter, even if she is the one who raised the possibility of its being a homicide. While she might be low on his list of suspects, she had the same opportunity as others to have done the deed, even if she had not known the victim prior to her arrival. Still, the case was entertaining, and I like Daisy and the Chief Inspector. I hope Alec is in future installments of this series.
    • 4/5
      Even though Daisy Dalrymple is the daughter of a viscount, she's trying to earn her living by writing stories about the rich and famous for a magazine. Her first assignment at Wentwater Court is going smoothly until one of her fellow guests is found dead, having fallen through the ice while skating on the frozen pond. Was it a tragic accident, or was the hateful man murdered?This delightful cozy mystery has an undercurrent of sadness. The series begins in early 1923, just a few years after the First World War. Many of the characters, Daisy included, lost loved ones during the war, and the social conventions are undergoing a transformation. Daisy seems to be ready to move on with her life, and she's thinking more about the future than the past. Daisy had a good reason to become involved with the investigation of the circumstances surrounding the death, unlike many other cozy heroines. She was helpful to Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher of Scotland Yard, and the pair worked well together. I could see their relationship becoming similar to that of Anne Perry's Thomas and Charlotte Pitt. I'm looking forward to reading more of their adventures.
    • 4/5
      The first of the Daisy Dalrymple mysteries, this is an amiable, cosy mystery set in an English country house. Daisy is an engaging heroine, perky and ever-so-slightly bossy, a modern young woman determined to earn her own living after the death of her fiance in World War 1. It's a quick and undemanding read, and I moved on quickly to the second in the series.
    • 4/5
      Fun addition to the crime genre. The Honourable Daisy Dalrymple is trying to be an independent woman in 1920s Britain and has taken a job with 'Town and Country' magazine writing articles about British country houses. This is a brilliant opening novel in a series of crime novels featuring Daisy, and, hopefully, the lovely Inspector Fletcher of New Scotland Yard. The books are packed with period detail as Daisy moves amongst Woodhousian characters. Fun and diverting.
    • 4/5
      This is a classic British cozy. Daisy is a "modern" woman trying to make it on her own in 1920's England. Since she is part of the British peerage, she snags a job for a magazine to write articles on the great estates of England. Her first assignment is at Wentwater Court, a grand old Tudor estate. No sooner than she arrives, one of the guests in the home falls through the ice and drowns, or did he???This is the first of the series. I enjoy Daisy and her interactions with others. For some reason, people find it very easy to confide in her. This is an interesting peek into British society in the 1920's too.
    • 4/5
      This is the first in the Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries. The Honourable Daisy Dalrymple has recently entered the journalism world as a light reporter on the various estates for Town and Country. When she arrives at Wentwater Court, the atmosphere is charged with deceit and deception. Then, when Lord Stephen Astwick is found dead on the frozen pond, her pictures show an interesting twist. Chief Inspector Alec Fletcher is brought in to figure out what happened.This book sets the stage for future novels involving Daisy and Alec. It's light, frothy and fun. The book uniquely captures the post WWI feelings in England, that American readers will find very interesting.
    • 4/5
      Entertaining period mystery, the first in a serious. Enough to encourage me to pick up the second volume.
    • 5/5
      Fun, sweet, and yet sassy, story. Might appeal to fans of Agatha Christie's Tommy and Tuppence Beresford series and fans of sweet historical romance.

    Book preview

    Death At Wentwater Court - Carola Dunn

    PROLOGUE

    Midnight at Ciro’s. The strains of the Charleston died away amid applause for the coloured band. As a babble of talk and laughter arose, the young man led his partner from the dance floor. The older man watching him noted that his well-cut evening togs were slightly rumpled, his face too red even for the aftermath of the vigorous dance. The youthful tart hanging on his arm didn’t seem to care, though an excess of face-paint made it difficult to be sure.

    Her spangled, low-waisted frock was short, in defiance of fashion, which this season had sunk hems back to near the ankle. With her shingled hair and the dangling bead necklace, she might be either a chorus-girl or a bright young thing.

    With a contemptuous sneer, the watcher approached and accosted her partner. A word with you, old chap.

    The young man regarded him with sullen dislike. Hang it all, can’t it wait? His words were slurred.

    I have just learned that you are going down to Hampshire tomorrow.

    Yes. The gov’nor insists on all the family turning up for Christmas, but I’ll be back in town in a fortnight. What’s the hurry?

    I’ve taken a fancy to see your ancestral acres. Invite me.

    Dash it, I can’t do that! Here, Gloria, you go on back to our table. He gave the girl a light swat on her rear end, clad in pink artificial silk—a chorus-girl, then. Carmine lips pouting, she obeyed, but glanced back as she went and gave the older man the come-hither look of a would-be vamp.

    I suppose my sister put you up to this, her escort continued sulkily.

    You may suppose what you please. I want an invitation.

    The pater’ll think it deuced odd.

    ‘The pater’ will think it something more than deuced odd if he should happen to get wind of a certain transaction. The note of menace in his smooth voice made the other’s face pale. I’ve no ambition to join your family’s Christmas celebrations. Boxing Day or the day after will do, and I’ll stay to see in 1923—a year of great promise, I feel sure.

    Oh, very well. Now the young man sounded merely petulant. Consider yourself invited.

    He turned away, pushed through the noisy crowd to his table, and ordered cocktails. Five minutes later, as the band struck up again, he took his giggling chorus-girl back to the dance floor to shimmy away his troubles.

    By then, the source of his discomfiture had already left the nightclub. He gave the chauffeur his orders and leaned back in the Lanchester, a cold smile of anticipation curving his thin lips.

    1

    "He’ll come to a bad end, mark my words, and she won’t lift a finger to stop him. It’s the little ones I’m worried about. The stout lady heaved a sigh, her old-fashioned mantle, a hideous yellowish-green, billowing about her. Four already and another due any day now."

    Daisy Dalrymple was constantly amazed at the way total strangers insisted on regaling her with their life stories, their marital misfortunes, or their children’s misdeeds. Not that she objected. One day she was going to write a novel, and then every hint of human experience might come in handy.

    All the same, she wondered why people revealed to her their innermost secrets.

    When the plump lady with the drunkard for a son-in-law left the train at Alton, Daisy had the 2nd Class Ladies Only compartment to herself. She knelt on the seat and peered at her face in the little mirror kindly provided by the L&SW Railway Company. It was a roundish, ordinary sort of face, pink-cheeked, not one calculated to inspire people to pour out their souls. A confidante, Daisy felt, ought to have dark, soulful eyes, not the cheerful blue that looked back at her.

    Near one corner of a mouth of the generous, rather than rosebud, persuasion dwelt the small brown mole that was the bane of her existence. No quantity of face-powder ever hid it completely.

    The scattering of freckles on her nose could be smothered, however. Taking her vanity case from her handbag, Daisy vigorously wielded her powder-puff. She touched up her lipstick and smiled at herself. On her way to her first big writing assignment for Town and Country, blase as she’d like to appear, she had to admit to herself she was excited—and a little nervous.

    At twenty-five she ought to be sophisticated and self-confident, but the butterflies refused to be banished from her stomach. She had to succeed. The alternatives were altogether too blighting to contemplate.

    Was the emerald green cloche hat from Selfridges Bargain Basement a trifle too gaudy for a professional woman? No, she decided, it brightened up her old dark green tweed coat just as intended. She straightened the grey fur tippet she had borrowed from Lucy. It was more elegant than a woollen muffler, if less practical on this icy January morning.

    Sitting down again, she picked up the newspaper the woman had left. Daisy was no devotee of the latest news, and on this second day of January, 1923, the headlines she scanned looked very much like those of a week ago, or a fortnight: troubles in the Ruhr and in Ireland; Mussolini making speeches in Italy; German inflation raging out of control.

    Opening the paper, she read a short piece describing the latest wonders unearthed from Tutankhamen’s tomb, and then a headline caught her eye:

    FLATFORD BURGLARY

    Scotland Yard Called In

    Daisy had been at school with Lord Flatford’s daughter, though not in the same form. Shocking how the merest mention of an acquaintance was more interesting than the most serious news from abroad.

    In the early hours of the New Year, thieves had walked off with the Flatfords’ house-guests most valuable jewellery, not yet returned to his lordship’s safe after a New Year’s ball.

    She had no time to read more, for the clickety-clack of the train over the rails began to slow again and the next station was Wentwater. Wrestling with the leather strap, Daisy lowered the breath-misted window. She shivered in the blast of frosty air, heavy with the distinctive smell of a coal-fired steam engine, and wondered whether a cold neck was not too high a price to pay for elegance.

    At least the knot of honey brown hair low on her neck, out of the way of the hat, provided a spot of warmth. For once she was glad she had indulged her mother by not having her hair bobbed.

    The train rattled and shuddered to a halt. Leaning out, Daisy waved and called, Porter!

    The man who answered her summons appeared to have a wooden leg, doubtless having lost the original in the Great War. Nonetheless, he made good time along the platform, swept clear of snow. He touched his peaked cap to her as she stepped down, clutching Lucy’s precious camera.

    Luggage, madam?

    Yes, I’m afraid there’s rather a lot, she said doubtfully.

    Not to worry, madam. He hopped nimbly up into the compartment and gathered from the rack her portmanteau, tripod, Gladstone bag, and the portable typewriter the editor had lent her. Laden, he somehow descended again. Setting everything down, he slammed the door and raised his arm. Right away! he shouted to the guard, who blew his whistle and waved his green flag.

    As the train chugged into motion, Daisy crossed the footbridge to the opposite platform. She surveyed the scene. The station was no more than a halt, and she was the only person to have descended from the down-train. Signs over the two doors of the tiny building on the up-platform indicated that one end was for Left Luggage, the other serving as both Waiting-Room and Ticket Office.

    The Hampshire countryside surrounding the station was hidden by a blanket of snow, sparkling in the sun. Frost glittered on skeletal trees and hedges. The only signs of life were the train, now gathering speed, the uniformed man carrying her stuff across the line behind it, and a crow huddled on the station picket fence.

    Your ticket, please, madam.

    She gave it to him to clip. I’m staying at Wentwater Court, she said. Is it far?

    A mile or three.

    Oh, Lord! Daisy looked in dismay at her luggage, and then down at her smart leather boots, high-heeled and laced up the front to the knee. They were definitely not intended for tramping along snowy country lanes, and the station was obviously too small to support a taxi service or even a fly.

    I shouldn’t worry, madam. His lordship always sends the motor for his guests, but likely it’s hard to start in this weather.

    The trouble is, Daisy confided, I’m not exactly a guest. I’m going to write about Wentwater Court for a magazine.

    The porter-cum-station master-cum-ticket collector looked properly impressed. A writer, are you, madam? Very nice, too. Well, now, if you was to walk, I can get a boy from the village to bring your traps after on a handcart. Or I can telephone the garridge in Alton for a hired car to come pick you up.

    Daisy contemplated these alternatives, one uncomfortable, the other expensive. Her expenses would be paid by the magazine, eventually, but she hadn’t much cash in hand.

    At that moment she heard the throb of a powerful motor engine. A dark green Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost pulled up in the station yard, the brass fittings on its long bonnet gleaming. A uniformed chauffeur jumped out.

    I reckon his lordship’s counting you as a guest, madam, said the porter with vicarious satisfaction, picking up her baggage.

    Miss Dalrymple? asked the chauffeur, approaching. I’m Jones, from the Court. Sorry I’m late, miss. She were a tad slow starting this morning, which she ain’t usually be it never so cold, or I’d’ve got going earlier.

    That’s quite all right, Jones, said Daisy, giving him a sunny smile. God was in His Heaven after all, and all was right with the world.

    He opened the car door for her, then went to help the porter stow her bags in the boot. Daisy leaned back on the soft leather seat. There were definite advantages to being the daughter of a viscount.

    Of course, she’d never have got the assignment to write about stately homes were it not for her social connections. Though she didn’t know the Earl of Wentwater, she was acquainted with his eldest son, James, Lord Beddowe; his daughter, Lady Marjorie; and his sister, Lady Josephine. Her editor had rightly expected that doors forever closed to any plebeian writer would swing wide to welcome the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple.

    The Rolls purred out of the station yard, down the hill, round a bend, and through the village of Lower Wentwater. The duck pond on the village green was frozen. Shrieking with laughter, several small children in woollen leggings were sliding on the ice, nothing but bright eyes showing between striped mufflers and Balaclava helmets.

    Beyond the little stone church, the lane wound up and down hills, past fields and farms and scattered copses. Here the snow on the roadway lay undisturbed except for two eight-inch-deep wheel ruts made by the earl’s motor on its way to the station. Daisy was increasingly glad she had not had to hoof it.

    In the middle of a wood, they came to a brick lodge guarding tall wrought-iron gates that stood open. As they drove through, Jones sounded the Rolls’s horn. Daisy glanced back and saw the lodge-keeper come out to close the gates behind them. A moment later, they drove out of the trees.

    Wentwater Court spread before them. On the opposite slope of a shallow valley stood the mansion. The crenellated and turreted central Tudor block, red brick dressed with stone, was flanked by wings added in Queen Anne’s time. Virginia creeper, though now leafless, masked the transition from one style to another, and a pair of huge cedars softened the rectangularity of the wings. Closer, at the bottom of the valley, the gravel drive crossed an elaborate stonework bridge over an ornamental lake. The ice had been swept clear of snow, and skaters in red and green and blue skimmed its length or twirled in fanciful curlicues.

    Jones, stop, please, Daisy cried. I must take some photographs.

    The chauffeur retrieved the tripod from the boot for her. Do you want me to wait, miss?

    No, go ahead, I’ll walk up. She set up her equipment on the edge of the drive and adjusted the camera. A frown creased her forehead.

    Most of her photographic experience had been in Lucy’s studio. Peering through the viewfinder, she tried to picture the scene before her shrunk to half a magazine page. The skaters on the lake would be mere dots, she decided.

    Nonetheless, she took a couple of shots of the entire scene before directing the camera at the mansion alone to take several more. Then she picked up the whole apparatus and trudged down to the lakeside to get close-ups of the skaters and the pretty arched bridge.

    The skaters had already seen her, and one or two had waved. As she approached, all five gathered at the nearer foot of the bridge.

    Hullo, Daisy, called Marjorie. We thought it must be you. Her fashionably boyish figure was emphasized by a tailored cherry red sports coat and matching skirt. Daisy knew that the white woollen hat concealed bobbed hair set in Marcel waves. Her Cupid’s-bow lipstick matched her coat, her eyebrows were plucked and darkened, and her eyelashes were heavily blacked. At twenty-one, Lady Marjorie Beddowe was a quintessential flapper.

    Welcome to Wentwater, Miss Dalrymple. Her brother James, a stocky young man some three years older than his sister, wore plus-fours and a Fair Isle pullover patterned in yellow and blue. His face, heavy jaw at odds with an aristocratically narrow nose, was pink from exercise; he had discarded coat, cap, and muffler on the heap piled on a bench on the far side of the lake. You know Fenella, don’t you?

    Yes, very well. We’re from the same part of Worcestershire. Daisy smiled at the shy girl whose engagement to James had recently been announced in the Morning Post. And Phillip is an old friend, too, of course.

    What-ho, old thing, haven’t seen you in an age. Fenella’s brother, a tall, fair, loose-limbed young man, grinned at her. Good-looking in a bland sort of way, Phillip Petrie had been Daisy’s brother’s best chum until Gervaise was killed in the trenches. Taken up photography, have you? he asked.

    In a way.

    He seemed to be ignorant of the reason for her arrival. She would have explained further, but Marjorie broke in eagerly to introduce the fifth skater.

    Daisy, this is Lord Stephen Astwick. She gazed with patent adoration at the older man. You haven’t met, have you?

    I’ve not had that pleasure, he said suavely. How do you do, Miss Dalrymple. At about forty, Lord Stephen was an elegant figure in a leather Norfolk-style jacket, his black hair pomaded back from his handsome face.

    Lord Stephen. Daisy inclined her head in acknowledgement. She didn’t care for the way his cold grey eyes appraised her. Don’t let me interrupt your sport. I want to take some pictures from a bit farther along the bank.

    Let me carry that apparatus for you, Phillip offered, stepping forward. It looks dashed heavy.

    No, do go on skating, Phil. The more people in the photographs, the merrier.

    A flagged path around the lake had been cleared and sanded. As she started along it, Daisy noticed Marjorie taking Lord Stephen’s arm in a proprietorial grip.

    Show me that figure again, she said to him with an artificial titter. "I will get it right this time, I swear it."

    If you insist, Lady Marjorie, he acquiesced, with a slight grimace of distaste. Daisy’s instant dislike of the man was confirmed. Marjorie might be a bit of a blister, but Lord Stephen had no call to show his contempt so plainly.

    Finding the perfect position on a short jetty beside a wooden boathouse, Daisy set up her camera. She took several shots of the skaters, with the bridge in the background. Obligingly, they all stayed at the near end of the lake, though she had seen them whizzing under the bridge earlier. It was a pity that colour photography was so complicated and unsatisfactory a process, for the bright colours of their clothes were part of the charm of the scene.

    Daisy finished the roll of film. The other rolls were in her Gladstone bag, so she packed up, detaching the camera from the tripod and carefully closing its accordion nose. As soon as she stopped concentrating on her work, she became aware of the biting chill nibbling at her toes and cheeks.

    The folded tripod tucked awkwardly under one arm, the camera case slung by its strap over her shoulder, she trudged on around the lake. A path of sanded, well-trodden snow led up from the bench towards the house. Before she reached it, Phillip skated over to her.

    Finished? I’ll give you a hand up to the house if you’ll hold on half a tick while I take off my skates.

    Thanks, that would be a help.

    He skated along to the bench to change his footwear. As she strolled to join him, Daisy wondered if he was about to take up his inconstant pursuit of her. Ever since she had emerged from her bottle green school uniform like a butterfly from its chrysalis, the Honourable Phillip Petrie, third son of Baron Petrie, had intermittently courted her. More for Gervaise’s sake than her own, she sometimes thought.

    She smiled at him as he relieved her of her burdens. Though she steadfastly refused his periodic proposals, she was fond of her childhood friend and erstwhile pigtail-puller.

    Did you bring skates? he asked, shortening his long strides to match hers up the hill, slippery despite the sand.

    No, I didn’t think to.

    I expect you can borrow some. We could come straight down again. It’s a pity to waste such a topping day.

    Yes, but I’m not here as a guest, or at least, not for pleasure. I’m going to be busy.

    He looked startled. What on earth do you mean?

    "I have a commission to write about Wentwater Court for Town and Country," she told him with pride.

    You and your bally writing, he groaned. Dash it, Daisy, it shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to put together a bit of tomfoolery for the gossip column. You can scribble it off later.

    "Not a paragraph or two, a long article. With photos. This is serious, Phillip. They are paying me pots of money to write a monthly series about some of the more interesting of the lesser known country

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