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"We're fine, Mildred," Laura
told the woman while Remington spoke to the police inspector that
had been called by the hotel manager. "But it might not be
a bad idea to do a little more digging into Mr. Steele's cousins
backgrounds."
"You don't really think one of them tried to kill him?"
Mildred questioned.
"I don't know who else in Ireland would have any reason want
him dead, Mildred. You can reach us tomorrow at the manor."
"Will do. You and Mr. Steele be careful, okay?"
"We will." She hung up and returned to the main room
of the suite where workers were already replacing the broken pane
of glass.
"I'm sure you know, your lordship," the policeman was
saying, "that someone in your profession tends t'make enemies.
It's possible that someone simply followed you t'Dublin and-"
"We have someone checking on that possibility," Remington
assured the man. "But since I *am* here to claim my inheritance,
I don't think it would be a bad idea to find out where any cousins
who might benefit from my death were this evening."
"Are you telling me how t'do my job, Mr. Steele?" the
man asked, clearly bristling at the implication that he was less
than capable.
"Not at all, Captain," Laura quickly assured him, moving
to slip her arm through that of her husband. "We're just
trying to cover all the bases. Someone *did* take a shot at Remington,
and since there weren't any attempts on his life in Los Angeles,
it stands to reason that it's someone who's unhappy that he's
in Ireland. And the people with the most reason to *be* unhappy
just happen to be his cousins."
"Of course, your ladyship. I'll have the cousins looked into-
as well as anyone else who might have had a grudge against either
of you. Of course, the only cousin who would stand to gain anything
with Mr. Steele's death would be Mr. Quinn O'Riley."
"Do you know Mr. O'Riley, Captain?" Remington asked.
"That I do. Quinn O'Riley is well known to most of us who
live in Dublin, sir. Very shrewd businessman." He closed
his notebook. "Well, I'll be letting the two of you get some
rest before your trip out to the manor tomorrow - I'll be in touch.
Welcome to Ireland, Mr and Mrs. Steele. Let's hope the remainder
of your visit is a bit less - distressing."
"Thank you, Captain," Laura said, escorting the man
out of the suite. She waited as the workers finished cleaning
up the mess, removing the broken lamp and replacing it with a
new one, vacuuming the carpet - then she closed and locked the
door behind them. Remington was sitting on the sofa. "What's
wrong?" she asked, sitting beside him, a hand on his knee.
"I wasn't certain that I should have come here at all,"
he told her. "And now -"
"You think you were right?" she suggested.
He shook his head. "I think I did the right thing. I don't
like someone taking shots at me."
"Well, we'll meet the cousins tomorrow at the manor,"
Laura reminded him. "Including Quinn O'Riley. Maybe we'll
find out more then." She rose to her feet. "Let's go
to bed, your lordship."
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep," Remington told
her, letting her pull him to his feet and lead him toward the
double doors that led to the bedroom with its king sized, four
poster bed.
Laura smiled up at him as she turned to start unfastening the
buttons on his shirt. "Who said *anything* about sleep, Remington?"
she asked, sliding his shirt from his shoulders.
**********
A limousine picked them up early the next morning, driving west
out of Dublin on a rare sunny day. The driver, a garrulous Irishman,
greeted them with a smile. "It's good t'meet you, your lordship,"
he said, tipping his cap at Laura. "And you as well, your
ladyship. Tis nice to know that you've finally found your way
home."
"Well, that remains to be seen, Jamie. Proof of my identity
-"
"Oh, you're Miss Megan's son, aright," Jamie assured
him.
"You sound certain of that."
"Certain enough. You'll see what I mean when we reach the
manor, sir," he said, as he turned the car westward.
"Is it a very long drive?" Laura asked.
"Not more than an hour - depending on the time of day."
"Have you worked for the estate very long, Jamie?" Remington
asked, nodding as Laura pointed out some scenery.
"All me life. My father was chauffeur before me. Grew up
at the manor -"
"How many servants are there?"
"Oh, let me see. I'm not sure, truthfully, your lordship.
My wife, Mary, is the cook at the Manor, now, she could tell you
sooner than I could. Most of the help at the manor comes from
the farms - maids, grooms- There are six farms still working -
I can tell you that they're all *very* grateful that you were
found. None of them were relishing the idea of leaving their farms.
Most have been there all their lives."
"So I've been given to understand. What about my cousins?"
Jamie tried not to show his disapproval, but it was evident anyway
in his sour expression. "Oh, your lordship. It wouldn't be
right for me to tell tales there. But none of them have any reason
t'welcome your arrival, I can tell you that. Wouldn't turn me
back on any of them if I was in your shoes."
Remington sat back. Laura asked, "You mentioned grooms- is
there a stable at the manor?"
"Oh, indeed, yes, your ladyship. Arisen Farms has put up
quite a few Derby entries over the years - if you like to ride,
we have some fine animals for you to take your choice from."
**********
Laura, although Remington had assured her otherwise, was expecting
another castle - she was pleasantly surprised to find that it
was indeed a typical English manor house - much friendlier and
less imposing than Ashford had been. Laura glanced up at her husband
as he stood beside the white limo, surveying the facade. Slipping
her hand into his, she smiled at him. Before he could speak, the
front door opened and the house staff arranged itself in a row
along the walk.
At the head of the line stood a very proper looking butler who
had to be seventy if he was a day. "Your Lordship, Your Ladyship.
Welcome to Crayston Manor. I am Callahan, head butler." The
Irish accent was there, but it was difficult to hear.
He followed Laura and Remington down the line, introducing the
various maids, grooms, lesser butlers, until Laura thought she
was going to scream. There was no way she could ever keep up with
the names of all these people. But Remington was enjoying playing
lord of the manor, greeting each one personally, giving some small
word of assurance and encouragement, until at last they reached
the end of the line and the servants were silently dismissed by
Callahan. He strode to the doors, opening them for Laura and Remington
to enter the manor at last.
Inside, Laura found herself speechless. It was like a museum,
filled with artwork and rich tapestries on wood paneled walls,
Persian rugs thrown on highly polished parquet floors- Yet the
overall effect was such that Laura felt comfortable here. More
comfortable than she had felt at Ashford, at any rate. Remington
took her hand and drew her attention to a Gainsborough painting
on one wall. "Your Lordship's cousins and Mr. O'Herlihy are
waiting your arrival in the main salon, sir," Callahan informed
them. "If you would prefer to freshen up before meeting them-
I can show you to your suite-" He waited for them to decide.
Laura looked up at Remington. "It's your decision."
"Let's get it over with, then," he decided. "Confront
the lions as it were."
Remington thought he saw a glimmer of humor in the butler's eyes
as the old man turned toward a set of double doors across the
entry hall. "This way, please."
Laura squeezed his hand gently as they turned from the wall beneath
the upstairs gallery, barely moving away as a heavy pewter vase
that had been on a table on the upper level fell to the floor.
If they hadn't moved, the vase would have struck Remington squarely.
"Are you all right?" Laura asked as the double doors
opened and several people joined them asking what had happened.
Remington straightened his shoulders and turned to meet his cousins.
To Be Continued . . .