Murder Most Royal — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

As a non-gardener, Rozie had to take Flora’s word for it that the bare bushes and half-empty beds would look spectacular in spring and summer when they were full of white roses, lilies and fat hydrangeas.

Rozie stole another glance at her as they walked along the gravel path between box-edged flower beds. The dry humour of the aristocracy still caught her by surprise.

They rounded a couple of large greenhouses and the twisted chimneys of the hall came back into view to their left, with the gatehouse further away to the right.

‘There,’ she said, as if Rozie had asked her a question.

Flora was very still and thoughtful.

‘That’s where I saw Ned for the last time, driving away with Dad in his ridiculous pink Land Rover. He called it the Pink Panther, you know. It was painted to match his house. He waved his trilby at me.’ She imitated the movement with her right hand. ‘I honestly thought the next time I’d see him would be at his wedding.’ She hesitated. ‘Can I tell you an awful secret?’

Rozie glanced across at the ancient bricks and stones of the hall, sitting serenely above the moat that mirrored the sky.

‘I can imagine this place would encourage you to think that way.’

Rozie had in fact been wondering if Flora – practical, competent, sharp-thinking Flora – was putting on an act. If so, it was a neat double bluff. She certainly felt as if she had been more of an audience than a confidante.

‘I don’t think you’re an idiot at all,’ she said, and wondered how the Queen was getting on.

The Queen was letting Lady Caroline do most of the talking again.

‘Do you know? I haven’t been here since I was eighteen. I was here with Lee. It must have been before you got married. Do you mind if we have a quick look in the Long Gallery? I remember thinking it was one of my favourite rooms in Norfolk.’

They walked down a long, panelled corridor from the hall’s east wing, where the family’s living accommodation was, past a series of large tapestries featuring knights and ladies in a mythical green landscape with a river running through it, whose banks were dotted with spring flowers.

‘Were these here before?’ the Queen asked.

‘Yes,’ Hugh said, ‘but I had them cleaned last year, for Lee. Arthur and Guinevere. Lee always loved those landscapes. She said they reminded her of her gardens. Water and flowers and so on. I had them hung in her suite when she was bed-bound. They gave her a lot of pleasure in her final weeks.