Clem flapped both hands at them. “No fighting, no fighting. My cooking is supposed to bring joy, not disharmony.”
“But….”
He held up a plump finger, stopping my entreaty. “I have many kind offers that I will have to consider.”
I narrowed my gaze. Who else had been offering for him?
“Now,” he continued, “I need someone to taste the new cakes I have been experimenting with.” He ushered us to the wide plank table the servants ate at and sat us down. He returned with two teacup-sized dainties and placed one before each of us. “You must tell me your thoughts. I am uncertain if the citrus and caraway flavors meld together as they should.”
I picked up a fork, glaring at Ryder.
His lips twitched as he picked up his own fork.
We both dug in at the same time. My eyes closed at the first taste. Exquisite. “Is that lemon?”
Clem tucked his thumbs in his apron and smiled. “Nothing so pedestrian. It is a hint, just a hint, mind you, of grapefruit.”
The flavors shouldn’t have worked together. I couldn’t imagine anyone else trying to pair the herb with the exotic fruit. But it was delicious, and I wanted Clem working for me more than ever.
Clem made excuses and left us as we finished our treats. “Who else do you think approached him?” I asked Ryder. “I’ll bet it was those Havenstones. She is always saying how Clem’s is the only cooking that doesn’t upset her digestion.”
Ryder licked a crumb from his fork and sighed. “I don’t know, but I will be at my club every afternoon if we obtain his services.”
“You won’t.” I finished my own last bite.
Ryder raised his eyebrows. “Is that a challenge?”
“We could make it a bet, but I know how you feel about those.” I stood and gave one last look at the counter where more of the cakes cooled. I did hope Clem had made enough so I couldenjoy this dessert again tonight. With a nod of my head, I left the kitchen and headed for the stairs.
I might not be able to discover who killed Perrin, and that defeat would sting.
But if Cook Clem was in my kitchen, I felt sure I would be able to overcome any disappointment.
Chapter Eighteen
Lady Mary
The constable didn’tcome to the house that day. Apparently he had been knee-deep in digging out a well that had collapsed in the rains. But he arrived at Perrin Manor bright and early the next morning, looking as though he hadn’t slept since the storm had begun.
He rubbed his eyes as Marie brought him a cup of tea. “All right. So the Earl of Perrin was found at the bottom of a staircase with a knife sticking out of his chest. A woman here”—he flipped to a page in his notebook—“a Miss Smith, admitted to being in an altercation with the lord where he either fell down the flight of stairs or was pushed. Yet you believe Perrin’s cause of death was poisoning.”
I waited for him to take a restorative sip of the hot brew. “Constable Adams, I realize this is a confused situation, but the combined facts that there was very little blood around the knife wound and that two mice died from drinking Perrin’s special wine is strong evidence of my theory.”
“And you eliminated falling down a flight of stairs as the cause of death because…?”
I folded my hands and rested them on my knees. “Perrin was already in distress when he approached Miss Smith. Again, there was no blood from a head wound from hitting the stairs. No broken neck. No, the rational conclusion is that the poison that was causing him to grab at Miss Smith was what also killed him.”
He placed his cup down and pinched the bridge of his nose. We were in the front sitting room, the constable having agreed to speak with me first as a close relation of the deceased. Adams was a young man in his mid-twenties who had country manners and intelligent eyes. His boots were streaked with mud, both fresh and dried, and Marie pinched her lips together when she saw the state of her floor. She gave a quick curtsey and departed, probably to ready her bucket.
He rubbed his smooth jaw. “The former constable of Modbury, Constable Greeley, only left his position last month, and I had only been apprenticed to him for a year before that. Normally I would only assist the magistrate in such a serious matter.”
“But the magistrate for this county is dead.” I could see his dilemma.
He shot me a look. “I’ll be sending word to the magistrate the county over, asking for assistance. Until then, I’d like to interview everyone here and see the body. I’ll have our local leech examine Perrin, but he’s most likely as out of his depth here as I am.”
“You’re young. There is no shame in acknowledging your lack of experience in certain areas.” I nodded, approving. “It’s a wise man who knows his limitations.”
“I’m so pleased that you approve,” he said, his last words distorted by a jaw-breaking yawn. “Will you send people in one at a time?”
