British Manor Murder by Leslie Meier

himself a glass of wine before seating himself on the second sofa.
    â€œHe can be a bit overbearing at times,” said Perry, “but he’s certainly a hard worker. And that guidebook was last revised when Gram and Gramps were living here.”
    â€œIt must have been wonderful when you had the whole place,” said Sue with a sigh.
    â€œWonderful and scary,” said Perry. “When I was a kid, they had a butler, Chivers was his name, who absolutely terrified me. He even frightened Gram. ‘Whatever you do,’ she used to say in this very serious voice, ‘please don’t upset Chivers.’ ”
    â€œThat was before my time,” said Desi. “I used to love coming here when I was a kid. Of course, things were rather falling apart by then. Gramps had died and Uncle Wilfred followed soon after. Money was running short and there were no servants to speak of anymore. Flo and I were city kids so we loved the freedom here, having all this space to run around and ride ponies.” He paused and took a sip of wine. “Rainy days were the best, though. Then we’d go exploring in the far reaches of the house, going from room to room and opening drawers and finding all sorts of trash and sometimes, real treasures.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Perry. “Remember when you found that sixteenth century inventory? It had been used to wrap up some jelly glasses.”
    â€œSo typical, using a priceless antique document to protect some worthless jelly glasses,” said Desi with a chuckle. “And there was that fabulous Chinese porcelain—a monkey, I think it was—used as a doorstop.”
    â€œWe’re still trying to sort things out. I don’t know what we’d do without our curator,” said Poppy, arriving with an armful of papers and a thick wad of upholstery fabric samples, all of which she dropped on an armchair where they joined the cushions and dented silver ewer she’d previously put there. “What a day.” She sighed as she sank into another chair. “I am so sorry you were involved in the recent unpleasantness,” she said, speaking to Lucy and Sue. “All I can do is offer my sincere apologies and assure you that this sort of thing is the exception rather than the rule.” She turned to her son and deftly changed the subject. “Is this that good cab you brought, Desi?”
    â€œYup. My friend Henri grows it at the family domaine.”
    Sue caught Lucy’s eye and winked, as if to say, “Look at us! Hanging out with people who know people who own vineyards.”
    â€œDelicious,” said Poppy, savoring a sip before joining her son on the sofa. She looked up as an attractive young woman dressed in the countrywoman’s uniform of cashmere sweater and tweed skirt entered the room. “Oh, Winifred, let me introduce our friends from America,” she said, naming Sue and Lucy. “Winifred Wynn is our curator and a gift from God.”
    â€œI don’t know about that,” said Winifred, smiling. “I just came by to let you know that the art restorer from the National Gallery is coming tomorrow to check out the damage to the general.”
    â€œThanks for the update.” Poppy dismissed her by adding, “Have a good evening.”
    When Winifred was gone, Poppy took a big swallow of wine. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Don’t forget Aunt Millicent is coming, along with that dragon Harrison.”
    â€œHarrison is Aunt Millicent’s lady’s maid,” said Perry. “She’s almost as bad as Chivers.”
    â€œWorse, I think,” said Poppy. “We could hide from Chivers, especially in his later years when he took to drinking Gramps’ port. Harrison is relentless. She won’t take no for an answer. Aunt wants to sleep in the countess’s bedroom—”
    â€œThat’s impossible,” said Perry. “It has to remain