“Hi Daphne, I’m Georgiana Valemont. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” I reached to shake her hand, releasing an imperceptible amount of soothing magic, and found myself being careful not to squeeze it too hard.
“Ms. Valemont. Oh, dear. Thank you for welcoming us weary travelers into your beautiful home.” She pursed her narrow lips together and batted her eyes at me. Then she looked at Henry with interest.
“Oh, and this is my friend Henry,” I responded.
“Cookie?” He smiled and held the basket out toward her.
For a split second, Daphne’s upper lip rose in disgust. “Oh no, thank you. I’ve got several food allergies.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Would you mind if we chatted with you for just a moment? I have some questions.”
“Questions?” The word rolled slowly over her tongue, like she was deciding whether it tasted all right.
“Yes, we’ve had an eventful afternoon, to say the least,” I answered, stepping past her and pretty much inviting myself into the room.
Henry tipped his head, smiled at Daphne, and followed me inside.
“Oh, do come in,” Daphne said flatly when we were already inside her room. I sat on the leather loveseat next to a Christmas tree, and Henry followed.
Despite the oversized armchair, Daphne didn’t sit. “Tell me what kind of questions you have,Ms. Valemont?”
I had no interest in playing games. So I bluntly stated, “Well, we had a death on the property earlier in the day. We’re trying to figure out what happened, and I wondered if you saw anything unusual during your tour.”
“Oh.” Daphne’s already pale face grew whiter. “Oh, my. I thought you were going to try to sell me a piece of art. Someone died? How?”
“They were shot,” I answered. Getting to the point seemed like the best strategy with her.
“Oh, that’s terrible.” Daphne finally sat down on the armchair, her little body barely taking half of the cushion.
“Yes, we’re not suspicious of anyone right now. But we’re trying to piece together what everyone was doing, what they might have seen. Do you mind giving me an idea of what your afternoon’s been like?” I asked. “You may know something and not even realize it.”
“Certainly. It’s true, I did come to see the artwork. And yes, I know it’s not currently for sale, but there’s a little piece in the grand foyer that I’ve had my eye on for a few years. I wondered if maybe I could come to an arrangement with you or your brother.” She looked to the side as if she were admitting a terribly embarrassing secret.
“Maybe. We can talk about it later.” She had no idea that I wasn’t attached to any of the art on the main level. The pieces that were precious to me were all in our private living areas.
“Really?” Her face brightened. “Oh, that’s… well, now let me tell you about my afternoon. I arrived around 1:30, I believe. I thought about visiting the gardens, but it was so cold, and I’m not fond of a lot of noise. So…”
“Noise?” Henry looked confused. I was too.
“Well, you know the four-wheelers or whatever it was they were driving out there. I came to the country for some peace and quiet. It sounded too much like the city.” She waved her wrist as if we would obviously know what she was talking about.
“Did you by chance see who was driving the four-wheeler?” I asked, though I remembered the Longfields mentioning the four-wheeler as well.
“I assumed it was your security team. That’s what it looked like, anyway.” She shrugged and continued, “Inside the house, I examined the historical portraiture and impressionist landscapes. It’s interesting to see what’s featured in these nice houses. It helps me know what my clients might be interestedin this season.”
“Right,” I answered, not wanting to tell her we always focused on the classics instead of featuring whatever was popular. So Pemberley was probably the last place to check if she were following the trends.
Daphne droned on about some artist I’d never heard of, and we politely listened for a few minutes.
“Well,” I finally interrupted. “Thank you so much for sharing with us. Dinner is at 7:00 p.m. in the main dining hall. We’re having butternut squash bisque, salad, rolls, and whatever else they surprise us with. Would you like me to request something special for your dietary needs?”
“Oh, that will be fine. It’s usually just the sugary treats that give me any problems.” She blinked as if she made perfect sense.
Henry and I left the room and walked further down the guest hall. On one side of the hall were the guest bedrooms, and on the other was a series of large-paned windows. The world outside was buried in white. Earlier in the day I could make out pine trees, patches of grass, and country roads, but now snow blanketed the horizon.
“I don’t think she was out shooting anyone this afternoon,” I said, watching the snowflakes fluttering down from the darkening sky.
“I don’t either. But we’re looking for someone who might’ve known Zac. Two things made me a little suspicious. First, she didn’t ask who died. And second, she had a slight French accent,” Henry said. “Oh, wait, and third, she didn’t eat any of your amazing cookies. I mean, these smell so good…”
