Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) by Kate Kingsbury

wisely decided to ignore the comment. With any luck, they would get through the meal without any more bickering.
    To her relief her hopes were realized, and she enjoyed a pleasant meal with her staff at the spacious kitchen table. Although both Martin and Violet had loudly voiced their doubts in the past on the wisdom of sharing her meals with the servants, Elizabeth had insisted, having formed a violent distaste for eating in the vast dining room alone.
    On occasion Earl joined her for supper there, and then it was an immense pleasure, but otherwise she preferred to take her meals in the warm security of her kitchen, surrounded by the people she considered her family, complete with all the eccentricities and foibles one normally encountered with relatives.
    With peace restored, the conversation throughout the meal was light-hearted. That was, until Sadie recounted the night's events at the pub, and described in great detail the wrath of the GIs when they discovered their tires in shreds. A lorry had to be summoned from the base, bringing new tires that the men had to replace on their wheels, thus making them very late in returning to their beds.
    "I don't suppose anyone noticed these men in the pub earlier," Elizabeth said, without much hope.
    "Nobody knows what they look like." Sadie flicked a glance at Polly. "Polly's the only one what's seen 'em, and it was too dark for her to see what they looked like."
    "If you'll excuse me, madam." Martin struggled to his feet, and stood gasping for breath for a moment or two.
    "Of course, Martin." Elizabeth peered at the clock above the stove. "You're late for your nap today."
    "Yes, madam. I can barely keep my eyes open. I'll take my leave now, with your permission?"
    "Have a good rest." Elizabeth smiled at him.
    "Thank you, madam." He shuffled slowly to the door, dragged it open, and disappeared through it. The doorswung behind him, apparently a little faster than he'd anticipated, since a distinctly muttered "ouch!" drifted back to the little group still seated at the table.
    Polly giggled, while Sadie looked concerned. Violet rolled her eyes at the ceiling, and went on eating her suet pudding.
    Elizabeth's mind was on the incident at the Tudor Arms. If the three musketeers were doing mischief in the car park, it was very likely that at some time that evening they were actually inside the pub. If so, it was possible that yet another young man had been poisoned. She needed to talk to Earl, and as soon as possible.
    She excused herself from the table, thus bringing an end to the pleasant lunch. She was about to leave when Sadie exclaimed, "What happened to the soap? Half of it's missing."
    Violet darted a suspicious look at Polly, who hotly declared, "I ain't got it. I never touched the soap. Honest I didn't."
    She looked so upset Elizabeth leaned forward and plucked out one of the remaining packets from the box. "No one's accusing you of anything, Polly. Here you are. You may have this one."
    Polly smiled her pleasure. "Thank you, m'm." She took the packet and tucked it into the pocket of her skirt, with a defiant little toss of her head at Violet.
    "Martin," Violet muttered. "What on earth does that old fool want with scented soap?"
    "More'n likely he wants to smell nice for that lottery lady friend of his," Sadie said with a grin.
    "More than likely he wants to
give
her the soap," Violet snapped. "He's given her just about everything else."
    "Oo, sounds naughty." Sadie dug Polly in the ribs.
    "That's enough, Sadie." Violet waved a hand at the girls. "Get these dishes washed at once. Polly, it's time you went back to your office work."
    Both girls took their time getting to their feet. Polly left, presumably to return to the office to finish the rent notices, and Sadie began clearing away the dishes, piling them on the sink ready to wash. Meanwhile, Violet brought the ironing board out from the pantry and set it up in the corner of the kitchen.
    Leaving them to their tasks,