world-aware of the two of us, and in some ways I suspect I still am, the past few years have worn away my natural inclination to believe people are telling the truth. It seemed this had not happened to Bertram.
He slapped his hand hard on his forehead. ‘I’m an idiot,’ he said. I didn’t contradict him. ‘The other chap is definitely a ministry man and has completely avoided giving his name.’
‘He’s from the church?’ I asked confused.
‘The government.’
‘Which department then?’
‘I don’t think we’re meant to know,’ said Bertram. ‘I’m increasingly sure that we don’t have to do anything. Fitzroy really did just want people up here that he knew didn’t have other loyalties or affiliations.’
‘To what?’
‘To whatever is relevant to whatever they’re doing.’
‘And servants who won’t ask questions about their names.’
‘Or peek through their papers,’ said Bertram.
‘You have stayed in some dubious houses, haven’t you?’ I said. ‘No maid under my control would ever do such a thing.’
‘That’s because I pay a decent wage and when you were my housekeeper you were very fair with all the staff. Generally the richer the householder the more he begrudges paying his staff. The great houses still believe it’s an honour to serve in them or even to be accosted by their lustful offspring.’
My face must have shown my shock. ‘Sorry, Euphemia, I had a devil of a lot of wine at luncheon. Only way I could get through and now you’ve topped me up with whisky. I may spend the afternoon asleep in my room.’
‘How very upper-class of you,’ I said. Bertram winced. ‘What are the rest of them doing?’ I asked.
‘That’s the thing. They’ve asked Rory to turn the shooting room into a meeting room.’
‘I hope he’s locked up the guns,’ I said forebodingly.
‘Don’t put ideas into my head, Euphemia,’ said Bertram shivering. ‘Anyway, outside of meals they will be holding meetings. My presence is not required and neither is yours.’
‘So for once this could be not an adventure at all?’ I said.
‘Lord, let’s hope,’ said Bertram. His eyelids began to drop and it became clear our discussion was at an end. I turned over in my mind what I had learned and realised how very little it was. I didn’t think the Smiths were from the government. My best guess was that they were some sort of contractor or supplier, who were bidding for a government project. Presumably one that was to take place in Scotland if Bertram was right about the maps. They only reason I could think of it being so secret was that once it was known it was going to be very unpopular, which would again be why Bertram hadn’t been let in on the secret. Richard Stapleford MP definitely had interests in the arms business, and might have offered to lend the lodge to get back in the government’s good books, but it obviously meant something that it had been his younger brother who had been chosen to play host. But what?
Miss Flowers I dismissed as a secretary with ideas above her station. She must also be foolish enough to believe she had a bullet-proof reputation if she was happy to reside in a small lodge in the middle of nowhere with her boss (presumably) and four other men. I judged the men to all be around middle age, and thus presumably at their height of their careers. It also meant they had all reached the age when men generally believe they have the right to do as they please.
I finished my sherry, relieved the sleeping Bertram of his glass – who else was there to tidy up? – and decided that after dropping off the glasses at the kitchen I would go for a bracing walk. I closed the door of the library quietly behind me, concentrating on letting it click only ever so slightly, so I would not wake Bertram, and so did not notice the man behind me.
He tapped me smartly on the shoulder and I jumped in the air and gave a little shriek. I heard a muffled ‘What! What! What!’ noise
He slapped his hand hard on his forehead. ‘I’m an idiot,’ he said. I didn’t contradict him. ‘The other chap is definitely a ministry man and has completely avoided giving his name.’
‘He’s from the church?’ I asked confused.
‘The government.’
‘Which department then?’
‘I don’t think we’re meant to know,’ said Bertram. ‘I’m increasingly sure that we don’t have to do anything. Fitzroy really did just want people up here that he knew didn’t have other loyalties or affiliations.’
‘To what?’
‘To whatever is relevant to whatever they’re doing.’
‘And servants who won’t ask questions about their names.’
‘Or peek through their papers,’ said Bertram.
‘You have stayed in some dubious houses, haven’t you?’ I said. ‘No maid under my control would ever do such a thing.’
‘That’s because I pay a decent wage and when you were my housekeeper you were very fair with all the staff. Generally the richer the householder the more he begrudges paying his staff. The great houses still believe it’s an honour to serve in them or even to be accosted by their lustful offspring.’
My face must have shown my shock. ‘Sorry, Euphemia, I had a devil of a lot of wine at luncheon. Only way I could get through and now you’ve topped me up with whisky. I may spend the afternoon asleep in my room.’
‘How very upper-class of you,’ I said. Bertram winced. ‘What are the rest of them doing?’ I asked.
‘That’s the thing. They’ve asked Rory to turn the shooting room into a meeting room.’
‘I hope he’s locked up the guns,’ I said forebodingly.
‘Don’t put ideas into my head, Euphemia,’ said Bertram shivering. ‘Anyway, outside of meals they will be holding meetings. My presence is not required and neither is yours.’
‘So for once this could be not an adventure at all?’ I said.
‘Lord, let’s hope,’ said Bertram. His eyelids began to drop and it became clear our discussion was at an end. I turned over in my mind what I had learned and realised how very little it was. I didn’t think the Smiths were from the government. My best guess was that they were some sort of contractor or supplier, who were bidding for a government project. Presumably one that was to take place in Scotland if Bertram was right about the maps. They only reason I could think of it being so secret was that once it was known it was going to be very unpopular, which would again be why Bertram hadn’t been let in on the secret. Richard Stapleford MP definitely had interests in the arms business, and might have offered to lend the lodge to get back in the government’s good books, but it obviously meant something that it had been his younger brother who had been chosen to play host. But what?
Miss Flowers I dismissed as a secretary with ideas above her station. She must also be foolish enough to believe she had a bullet-proof reputation if she was happy to reside in a small lodge in the middle of nowhere with her boss (presumably) and four other men. I judged the men to all be around middle age, and thus presumably at their height of their careers. It also meant they had all reached the age when men generally believe they have the right to do as they please.
I finished my sherry, relieved the sleeping Bertram of his glass – who else was there to tidy up? – and decided that after dropping off the glasses at the kitchen I would go for a bracing walk. I closed the door of the library quietly behind me, concentrating on letting it click only ever so slightly, so I would not wake Bertram, and so did not notice the man behind me.
He tapped me smartly on the shoulder and I jumped in the air and gave a little shriek. I heard a muffled ‘What! What! What!’ noise
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