If you are a fan of cosy crime and period drama, then may we recommend this fun, light-hearted mystery set in a fictional aristocratic estate in Scotland. When Lord Inverkillen is found dead, the hapless local detective declares the death accidental, but the housekeeper, Mrs MacBain is not convinced and sets out to find the truth. What will she find out about the family she serves?

Extract taken from Loch Down Abbey
By Beth Cowan-Erskine
Published by Hodder & Stoughton

The dressing gong at Loch Down Abbey was rung promptly at half past five every day. The children had always begged to be allowed to strike it and in the thirty years he had served the family, Hudson, the butler, had only capitulated once, giving it as a reward. Giving a small child a mallet and a gong was never going to go well, and Hudson had regretted it immediately. It had been a vicious attack until he managed to disarm the little beggar, but not before the 17th century artefact had been heavily dented. It had rung a slightly discordant tone ever since. Hudson had moved the mallet to a locked cupboard in his office and none had rung it since but him, and today was no exception.

Dinner was a sacred tradition at Loch Down, and they still observed the old ways. The family was expected to gather in the Library for an aperitif; any time between seven and eight o’clock was acceptable, but one must arrive before Hudson came to seat them for dinner. Much to Lady Eva’s dismay, no modern cocktails were served – only sherry for the ladies, and whisky soda for the men. At eight o’clock sharp, Hudson would enter the Library and escort the family across the Armoury to the Dining Room. The first course was always consommé, then came the fish, followed by meat – game when in season, of course – then sorbet, cheese, and finally fruit and other puddings. It never varied. They still dressed formally for dinner and when the meal was finished, the women moved to the Drawing Room – the Blue in the summer, the Red in the winter – to play cards and gossip; the men moved to the Library or the Billiards Room for whisky and cigars. They occasionally came together for whist before bed. Lady Inverkillen, without fail, retired promptly at eleven o’clock. Hudson locked the front door and retired at midnight. Anyone awake after that was on his own.

As usual, then, the family was in the Library before dinner, sipping and chatting. Lady Georgina was tutting about her lady’s maid.

‘She asked for leave to go to her parents. Can you believe it? Her packed bag was sitting in the hallway as we spoke. Worried about this illness, she said. As if this is truly a matter of life and death. And if it were, not a care in the world for me. No, no. Off to her sick parents.’

Hudson coughed quietly in the corner.

‘How does one even manage without a lady’s maid? Hm?’ She looked round the room to find all but Bella in sympathy with her. Bella was rarely in sympathy with anyone who had a lady’s maid while she did not.

‘Perhaps I can give you Maxwell until she returns, Mama,’ said Lady Inverkillen. ‘She can come to you after she draws my bath, if it’s not too early in the morning for you?’ Lady Inverkillen famously rose early each morning and spent the first half of her day in the Glasshouse, cultivating anemones. After luncheon she could be found in the Music Room – she was a gifted pianist – until tea.

‘Oh, that’s very kind of you, dear. Tell me, how is she with hair? Can she do the more traditional styles? I will not have one of these new waves. It’s just too modern and vulgar.’ Involuntarily, she glanced at Lady Eva, who noticed. ‘Tell me, dear, how go the plans for the wedding? I do love a summer wedding. The flowers are so very colourful.’

Before Lady Eva could draw breath to speak, Bella jumped in. She had heard quite enough about the plans for the wedding, and how nothing was up to London standards. ‘How long will your maid be away, Grandmama?’

‘No idea. I shall have to find a replacement. If she thought she could simply come back in her own time, she has another think coming. Oh, I do hate finding new staff.’

‘I can place an ad in The Lady for you. I know the editor quite well,’ Eva offered. She was always mentioning who she knew in London; famous this, prominent that. It rankled the family, not that she cared. She was well connected, and they should be thankful for that. The only important people the family knew were Scottish, and they hardly mattered in the real world.

Lady Georgina looked shocked. ‘Our staff have always been Highlanders.’ She shook her head and continued the conversation as if Eva didn’t exist.

When the grandfather clock struck eight, they stood to be led into dinner. Rank and importance determined where one was seated and served to let everyone know their place. Hamish and Victoria sat opposite one another in the centre, rather than at the ends of the table. It was a very modern arrangement that placed the Countess close to the fire. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that the lesser guests were literally left out in the cold.

*

Upon entering the room, they took up their places at the table. But it was only when they had all gathered that they realised Hamish was missing.

‘Hudson, where’s Lord Inverkillen?’ asked Lady Georgina. The butler stared back at her uncomfortably for a moment. Clearly, he hadn’t noticed the absence either. ‘Then perhaps you should send someone to his rooms.’ She was grouchy when hungry.

A footman was dispatched to his dressing room and the family stood behind their chairs awkwardly. No one wanted to sit down; they would be an uneven number. It was one of the few things the family noted instantly: odd numbers at dinner. It spooked them, and they went to great lengths to avoid it. Odd numbers at breakfast, however, seemed perfectly fine. No one could explain it.

Loch Down Abbey by Beth Cowan-Erskine is published by Hodder & Stoughton, priced £8.99.