British Manor Murder by Leslie Meier Page B

with words,” said Lucy. “I feel as if I’m in a Winnie the Pooh book.”
    â€œIt’s more like a fairy tale,” said Sue. “This beautiful house, the garden, the folly—it’s all so magical.”
    Lucy stared into her wineglass where the surface of the wine reflected light from the downlights in the ceiling. Sue was right, she thought. Moreton Manor was like a castle in a fairy tale, and fairy tales were full of wicked witches, evil queens, nasty trolls, and big, bad wolves.
    Gerald glared briefly at Sue, then downed half his glass of wine. “Is there any more of this plonk?” he demanded.
    â€œIt’s not plonk,” protested Desi. “It’s 2013 cabernet from Henri Le Vec’s vineyard in France. It’s rather special. It’s the wine the family reserves for itself.”
    â€œWell, whatever it is, it’s all gone and we’re going to need another bottle,” said Gerald. “Are you going down to the cellar or shall I?”
    â€œI’ll go,” said Desi, promptly disappearing through a door.
    â€œI think we can start. Desi will be back in a minute,” said Perry, setting the tureen on the island and handing a plate to Sue.
    Lucy’s mood improved as everyone gathered around the island and helped themselves to generous servings of Perry’s delicious ribollita. The vegetables were fresh from the garden and bursting with flavor, the whole grain bread had a crunchy crust, and the wine was plentiful. Even the butter was marvelously flavorful, tasting of sunshine and sweet meadow grass.
    â€œThis isn’t at all what I expected,” said Sue. “I have to say it’s a pleasant surprise.”
    â€œDid you expect Downton Abbey ?” asked Poppy.
    â€œI guess I did, a little bit,” confessed Sue, who was fetching second helpings for herself.
    Lucy watched in amazement. In all the years she had known her, she had rarely seen Sue finish her firsts, much less go back for seconds.
    â€œWell, you’ll get plenty of Downton Abbey tomorrow when Aunt Millicent arrives,” said Desi.
    â€œI didn’t bring any dressy clothes,” admitted Lucy, getting an eye roll from Sue. “Can you recommend any shops in Oxford?”
    â€œI’m afraid I’m no help. I haven’t bought anything from a shop in years. Most of my clothes were bought at agricultural fairs,” admitted Poppy.
    â€œWe’ll put that question to Flo,” said Desi. “She’s certain to have some ideas.”
    â€œGreat,” said Lucy, rising to help Poppy clear the table for dessert.
    â€œRhubarb and custard,” said Perry. “I hope you like rhubarb.”
    â€œLove it,” declared Lucy, thinking of the huge plant in her garden at home. That led to thoughts of Bill and Patrick and the girls and she was suddenly stricken with a huge wave of sadness and longing for home.
    â€œCoffee, Lucy?” asked Perry, sounding concerned.
    â€œBetter not,” she said, quickly rallying. “Jet lag, you know.”
    â€œI don’t think even coffee will keep me awake,” said Sue, accepting a cup. But even she turned down a second cup when it was offered. “I think Lucy and I need an early night.”
    â€œOf course,” said Poppy. “You’ve had a difficult day. We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”
    Lucy and Sue started up the stairs to their guest rooms, Sue pausing midway to give her nose a good blow. “Dogs,” she said by way of explanation. “I think I’m allergic.”
    They had reached the first landing when an odd sound caught their attention. Lucy pushed open the doorway. Leaning into the corridor that contained the family’s bedrooms, they clearly heard someone sobbing.
    â€œThat must be Flora,” said Lucy. “I bet she’s crying over the fellow in the maze.”
    â€œDo you think she knew him?” asked