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Book Details
A Dowager is Done In
A mysterious summons. A fatal hot chocolate. And a duchess who never expected mourning to be this dreadfully dull.
Hampshire, 1891. Six months into widowhood, Alice, Duchess of Stortford, is restless. Black gowns and seclusion in the country have their limits, so when Clarissa, Dowager Countess of Romley, sends a personal summons asking for her discreet assistance with a troubling matter at Lawrence House, Alice seizes the excuse for a change of scene.
But what begins as a family gathering to welcome home the Dowager’s once-disgraced son ends in shock. Clarissa is discovered dead, her passing swiftly dismissed as a heart attack. Alice knows better. The Dowager had been afraid — and had trusted her to uncover the truth. Someone silenced her, but why? Was it to do with the announcement she made over dinner, or something even more dangerous?
Now everyone in the house is a suspect: the resentful heir, the returning prodigal, the mysterious guest with a too-familiar face. With her sharp-witted maid Maud, steadfast footman George, and her reluctant ally Lord Rushton at her side, Alice must act quickly. If the Dowager was murdered to keep her secrets buried, the killer will not hesitate to strike again.
The Dowager is dead. The clock is ticking. And the duchess is about to discover that country house parties can be murder.
Full of clever twists and a heroine who won’t give up until she finds out the truth, A Dowager is Done-in is the perfect escape for fans of historical mysteries wrapped in wit and warmth.
Purchase Links
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dowager-Done-Duchess-Stortford-Mystery-ebook/dp/B0FNR838B8/
About Helen Golden
Helen Golden spins mysteries that are charmingly British, delightfully deadly, and served with a twist of humour.
With quirky characters, clever red herrings, and plots that keep the pages turning, she’s the author of the much-loved A Right Royal Cozy Investigation series, following Lady Beatrice and her friends—including one clever little dog—as they uncover secrets hidden in country houses and royal palaces. Her new historical mystery series, The Duchess of Stortford Mysteries, is set in Victorian England and introduces an equally curious sleuth from Lady Beatrice’s own family tree—where murders are solved over cups of tea, whispered gossip, and overheard conversations in drawing rooms and grand estates.
Helen lives in a quintessential English village in Lincolnshire with her husband, stepdaughter, and a menagerie of pets—including a dog, several cats, a tortoise, and far too many fish.
If you love clever puzzles, charming settings, and sleuths with spark, her books are waiting for you.
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Intro
Lawrence House, November 1891. It’s six-months since Alice, Duchess of Stortford’s husband died, and she’s found mourning is boring! So when a letter arrives from Clarissa, Dowager Countess of Romley, hinting at a troubling matter at her home in Hampshire, Lawrence House, and asking for Alice’s help, her curiosity gets the better of her and she agrees to go.
Once she arrives, it’s clear that there’s a lot of tension in the house, especially among the dowager’s family. The dowager’s son, Oliver, has recently returned home like the prodigal son, and Frederick, the current earl and his wife, Violet, have clearly had their noses put out of joint. But what is she expected to do about it? She hopes to find the answer when she meets privately with the dowager for the first time…
Extract
Clarissa, Dowager Countess of Romley, sat at a delicate French writing desk near one of the curtained windows. Papers were spread before her, along with a leather-bound notebook and a larger cloth-bound dark-green volume set askew, its spine hidden from view. “Ah, Your Grace. Punctual to the minute. I do appreciate that in a person.” The dowager gestured to a chair positioned near her desk. “Please sit down. I’m sure you’re curious about why I’ve summoned you all this way.”
Alice moved to the indicated chair, a well-padded affair with curved walnut legs that managed to be both elegant and comfortable. She arranged her skirts carefully, then replied, “I confess I am rather intrigued, Lady Romley. Your letter suggested there were matters requiring discretion.”
The dowager closed the notebook with a decisive snap, setting it aside before turning more fully towards Alice. Her lined face, still retaining the bone structure that must have made her a beauty in her youth, bore an expression of careful assessment. “Yes, well, first I must thank you for coming.” The dowager’s fingers, gnarled a little with age but still adorned with impressive rings, tapped a restless rhythm against the polished wood of her desk. “It was my intention for us to have a lengthy discussion today about the matter that concerns me, but circumstances have forced a change of plan.”
What change of plan?
“I’m making an important announcement over dinner tonight—one that will likely cause quite a stir among the family.”
Alice’s heart jumped. Is this a new will? Was that the real reason she’d gathered her family around her at this time?
“The preparations for that have consumed my attention today.” The dowager’s eyes, sharp and clear, fixed on Alice’s face. “But rest assured, we’ll have ample time to talk tomorrow. The matter I wish to discuss with you is of great importance.”
“Of course. I understand family matters must take precedence.”
And it’s probably not that important…
The dowager leaned forwards, lowering her voice despite the fact they were alone in the room. “However, I feel I should at least give you some indication of the issue.”
You’re worried your younger son has only returned for the money?
“You see, Your Grace, I have reason to believe there’s a murderer in this house.”
What? Alice blinked. Did she say murderer? No, I must have misheard… “I beg your pardon? A—”
“Yes, a murderer.” The dowager’s voice remained steady, her gaze unwavering.
Alice struggled to reconcile the dowager’s calm demeanour with the shocking nature of her claim. “Lady Romley, that’s an extraordinary statement. Have you spoken to the authorities?”
“And tell them what? That I have an unsubstantiated fancy? That certain…information has raised my suspicions?” The dowager shook her head, the jet beads on her cap catching the light with the movement. “No. I need proof before involving the authorities. That’s partly why I’ve asked you here.”
“But I’m not able to protect you or anyone else. If you believe someone’s life is in danger—”
The dowager held up a hand. “I do not believe there’s an imminent risk.” She lowered her hand, her rings making a soft clink against the desk. “At present, the culprit has no idea of my suspicions and, therefore, has no reason to act rashly.”
How can you be so sure?
She continued, “I’m waiting for something to arrive in the post that may provide me with evidence.”
Of course—how prudent, to wait for the morning post before confronting a murderer! “And this item in the post—what is it?”
“Information about something that happened many years ago.” The dowager’s expression closed like a door being shut. “I’d rather not say more until I’ve verified my suspicions. Once I know for certain, then—well, we shall act.”
In the meantime, you’re letting a possible murderer roam freely around your house? “But surely you should be taking some precautions, Your Ladyship?” Alice pressed.
“My dear girl, if I thought anyone intended to strike me down before dinner, I would have bolted the door and sent for the vicar. As it is, we may wait until tomorrow.”
Alice took a deep breath, trying to maintain her patience. The dowager’s vague assertions were beginning to seem more like the paranoid imaginings of an elderly woman than a genuine threat. Is this all simply in her head?
“In the meantime,” the dowager continued, seemingly oblivious to Alice’s incredulity, “I would appreciate it if you could keep your eyes open. Observe the household. Note anyone acting suspiciously. Your perspective as an outsider could prove invaluable.”
That’s it? Just “keep your eyes open”. She stifled a sigh as she looked at the resolute face of the dowager. There was no point arguing. “Of course,” she replied, although what she was supposed to be watching or who, she had no clue.
The dowager nodded, apparently satisfied. “Excellent. We’ll speak again tomorrow, after I’ve had time to deal with tonight’s disclosure. By then, I may have received the confirmation I’m waiting for.”
There was a finality in her tone that suggested the meeting was concluded. Alice rose, smoothing her skirts, then she moved to the door and opened it.
“And, Your Grace?”
Alice twisted her head around. “Yes?”
“Please be discreet about what we’ve discussed. I don’t want to cause unnecessary alarm.”
And alert a murderer? Alice swallowed. “You may rely on my discretion,” she assured the dowager as she walked out of the room.
Making her way back down the first floor corridor, she found herself questioning the dowager’s mental clarity. Her vague claims seemed fanciful at best, deranged at worst. By the time she reached the top of the stairs that led down to the main hall of Lawrence House, she was annoyed. I’ve travelled all the way from Manning Hall, leaving the school project and a dozen other responsibilities, not to mention Aunt Cora’s zealous cleaning crusade, which is likely to result in at least one or two household crises, for what appears to be the paranoid fantasies of an aging aristocrat!
