Murder by Invitation Only by Colleen Cambridge EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Colleen Cambridge
- Language: English
- Genre: International Mystery & Crime
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
PHYLLIDA BRIGHT WAS DISPLEASED.
She leveled a stern look at the two young women who stood in front of
her.
One of them was dripping wet from something that smelled exceedingly
unpleasant.
The other was covered with soot and ash.
Both of them had the misfortune of being maids on her staff.
Neither were brave enough to look her in the eye, and in fact both
seemed to be trembling in fear of her wrath.
As well they should, for the two of them were about to receive a severe
talking-to . . . if Phyllida could keep from laughing. They did look
ridiculous.
“Explain how this happened,” Phyllida said once she gathered her
composure. “Ginny, you first.”
Ginny, the honey-haired parlormaid with a high-pitched voice, sniffled
and pushed back a swath of hair that dripped in her face. Her normally
pristine, starched uniform hung wet and awkwardly on her figure and her
cap sagged over what had been a neat roll of hair.
“Only, I went out to empty the pail from the library fireplace and the next
thing I know, she went and dumped a bucket of-of slop on me!” Her voice
was teary but her eyes shot daggers at Molly, the kitchen maid who stood
next to her.
“And therefore you found it necessary to retaliate by throwing a bucket
of fireplace debris on her,” Phyllida said in an arctic voice.
“No, ma’am, but it was an acci—”
“I didn’t mean to, Mrs. Bright,” said Molly earnestly, though her voice
was also tight with tears. “She got in my way as I was pitching it out.”
“I did not!” cried Ginny. “She pretended not to see me, but I know she
did!”
“It was an accident, Mrs. Bright,” Molly said, her voice breaking with
emotion. “I swear it!” She had obviously attempted to wipe some of the
ashes from her face but she’d only made it worse, as her cheeks and slender
nose were smeared with soot. Her lace cap, still settled on a head of light
brown hair, had created a sort of nest for a significant portion of the ash as
well.
One good sneeze or bob of her head—or, heaven forbid, a curtsy—and
more fireplace remains would be strewn all over. In fact, there was a trail of
ash, not to mention dripping water, that had followed the two maids into
Phyllida’s sitting room—where they had no doubt been directed by Mr.
Dobble.
Sent purposely, she was quite certain, for the butler at stately Mallowan
Hall—home of Agatha Christie and her husband, Max Mallowan—loathed
chintz and lace. Thus, Phyllida was under no illusion that it had been an
“accident” that Mr. Dobble had sent the dirty, messy maids to her sitting
room. Surely it was one of his not-so-subtle attempts to destroy—or at least
damage—said chintz and lace.
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