Read Online The Pigeon Pie Mystery by Julia Stuart - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia Stuart
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would not have paid a penny for it. Some people have more money than brains.” She walked over to the fire and knelt down to attend to it. “But not you, ma’am,” she added. “You have lots of brains but no money.”
ONCE MINK WAS DRESSED, THE two women set about exploring their new home. Before being turned into a grace-and-favour residence in 1881, Wilderness House had been the official lodgings of palace gardeners, at one time the celebrated Lancelot “Capability” Brown, who complained of the offensive kitchen, and the rooms being small and uncomfortable. If it had appeared mournful in flickering candle flame, daylight did little to improve it. It had been newly painted, but the fresher colours did nothing to disguise its defeated soul. As Mink and Pooki wandered from room to room their excitement soon faded into gloom. Black beetles circled the kitchen floor like ice skaters. The smell of damp was unavoidable, and they soon stopped opening the cupboards, lest it plunge them further into despair. While the maid had risen at six to light the fires, the meagre flames in the tiny grates did little to combat the wind that rattled through the gaps in the sash windows.The ornate carved furniture, much of it from India, looked out of place in the unfamiliar surroundings, and for the first time Mink questioned her father’s taste. After their inspection, they sat in silence at the bottom of the staircase, staring ahead of them, the Princess clutching the warrant, which she had finally opened.
“It says that I have to occupy the house for at least six months of the year, or it’ll be considered vacant and given to someone else,” said the Princess.
“That will not be a problem, ma’am, because you have nowhere else to go.”
“Even those tiny clerks’ houses have bathrooms these days,” muttered the Princess.
Pooki turned to her mistress. “I spoke to the butterman this morning. Apparently Mrs. Campbell did not put her fingers into her purse to maintain this house. I do not know why they thought it would be suitable for the daughter of the Maharaja of Prindur. Moths are very happy in the damp, and I have anxious forebodings about your furs. But do not worry, ma’am, no moth will get the better of me. After breakfast I shall wrap up your furs in linen washed in lye and put them in a drawer with pieces of bog myrtle. Then I will put saucers of quicklime in the cupboards to dry them out. And once we have hung your butterfly collection in the drawing room it will cover those marks on the wall.”
As the Princess stared at the chipped hall tiles she remembered the time, many years ago, when her father put a mutton bone under an oak tree to lure down a Purple Emperor. She then thought of the watercolours she had done for him of the jewel-coloured creatures they had caught together, which she found tied with a ribbon in his desk drawer when he died.
“I wonder how Albert is getting on,” said the Princess flatly. “He’d soon cheer the place up.”
Pooki remained silent.
Suddenly Mink stood up. “I’m going to hang the family portraits,”she announced. “We’ll both feel much better surrounded by those moustaches.” She headed down to the kitchen in the hope of finding some nails, Pooki calling after her that such a task was not suitable for a princess.
LATER THAT MORNING, WHEN POOKI answered the front door, she found Mrs. Boots on the step wearing a tight-fitting bonnet that squashed her beetroot cheeks. Before they had exchanged a word, the housekeeper barrelled her way inside, hoisted her skirts, and started up the stairs, elbows pointed. “Just having a quick check,” she explained over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe some of the pets residents try and smuggle in with them.”
Pooki stood with her hand on the banister, her mouth open. “But ma’am!” she cried, suddenly running after her. “Her Highness is in the drawing room. You are going the wrong way.”
“I won’t be
ONCE MINK WAS DRESSED, THE two women set about exploring their new home. Before being turned into a grace-and-favour residence in 1881, Wilderness House had been the official lodgings of palace gardeners, at one time the celebrated Lancelot “Capability” Brown, who complained of the offensive kitchen, and the rooms being small and uncomfortable. If it had appeared mournful in flickering candle flame, daylight did little to improve it. It had been newly painted, but the fresher colours did nothing to disguise its defeated soul. As Mink and Pooki wandered from room to room their excitement soon faded into gloom. Black beetles circled the kitchen floor like ice skaters. The smell of damp was unavoidable, and they soon stopped opening the cupboards, lest it plunge them further into despair. While the maid had risen at six to light the fires, the meagre flames in the tiny grates did little to combat the wind that rattled through the gaps in the sash windows.The ornate carved furniture, much of it from India, looked out of place in the unfamiliar surroundings, and for the first time Mink questioned her father’s taste. After their inspection, they sat in silence at the bottom of the staircase, staring ahead of them, the Princess clutching the warrant, which she had finally opened.
“It says that I have to occupy the house for at least six months of the year, or it’ll be considered vacant and given to someone else,” said the Princess.
“That will not be a problem, ma’am, because you have nowhere else to go.”
“Even those tiny clerks’ houses have bathrooms these days,” muttered the Princess.
Pooki turned to her mistress. “I spoke to the butterman this morning. Apparently Mrs. Campbell did not put her fingers into her purse to maintain this house. I do not know why they thought it would be suitable for the daughter of the Maharaja of Prindur. Moths are very happy in the damp, and I have anxious forebodings about your furs. But do not worry, ma’am, no moth will get the better of me. After breakfast I shall wrap up your furs in linen washed in lye and put them in a drawer with pieces of bog myrtle. Then I will put saucers of quicklime in the cupboards to dry them out. And once we have hung your butterfly collection in the drawing room it will cover those marks on the wall.”
As the Princess stared at the chipped hall tiles she remembered the time, many years ago, when her father put a mutton bone under an oak tree to lure down a Purple Emperor. She then thought of the watercolours she had done for him of the jewel-coloured creatures they had caught together, which she found tied with a ribbon in his desk drawer when he died.
“I wonder how Albert is getting on,” said the Princess flatly. “He’d soon cheer the place up.”
Pooki remained silent.
Suddenly Mink stood up. “I’m going to hang the family portraits,”she announced. “We’ll both feel much better surrounded by those moustaches.” She headed down to the kitchen in the hope of finding some nails, Pooki calling after her that such a task was not suitable for a princess.
LATER THAT MORNING, WHEN POOKI answered the front door, she found Mrs. Boots on the step wearing a tight-fitting bonnet that squashed her beetroot cheeks. Before they had exchanged a word, the housekeeper barrelled her way inside, hoisted her skirts, and started up the stairs, elbows pointed. “Just having a quick check,” she explained over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe some of the pets residents try and smuggle in with them.”
Pooki stood with her hand on the banister, her mouth open. “But ma’am!” she cried, suddenly running after her. “Her Highness is in the drawing room. You are going the wrong way.”
“I won’t be
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