Thistlewood Manor: A Doll’s Debacle (An Eliza Montagu Cozy Mystery—Book 7)

By Fiona Grace

"Very entertaining. I highly recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader that appreciates a very well written mystery, with some twists and an intelligent plot. You will not be disappointed. Excellent way to spend a cold weekend!"
--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (regarding Murder in the Manor)

THISTLEWOOD MANOR: A DOLL’S DEBACLE is Book #7 in a charming 1920s cozy mystery series by Fiona Grace, #1 bestselling author of Murder in the Manor, which has over 300 five star reviews!

For centuries, Thistlewood Manor has stood as home to the Montagu family, a beacon to British aristocracy in rural England. But it’s 1928, and in this new age of women’s rights, Eliza Montagu, 27, a free spirit, has turned her back on her family to live an artist’s life in London.

Yet after Eliza is summoned home, she decides to stay (for now) to help her father run the ailing family business. The presence of her childhood best friend, Oliver, also gives her a reason to stay, as she wonders if their unfulfilled romance might ever come to fruition.

It’s summertime, and amidst a backdrop of cricket matches, Eliza finds a once in a lifetime opportunity to expand her family’s legacy when a neighboring estate to Thistlewood Manor hits the market at a rock bottom price.

But the estate’s butler, the last impediment to the deal, ends up killed.

And all eyes fall to Eliza.

Can Eliza clear her name and find the real killer?

Who else who have wanted him dead?

A charming historical cozy mystery series that transports readers back in time, THISTLEWOOD MANOR is mystery at its finest: spellbinding, atmospheric and impossible to put down. A page-turner packed with shocking twists, turns and a mystery that’s hard to solve, it will leave you reading late into the night, all while you fall in love with its unforgettable heroine.

Future books in the series will soon be available!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiona Grace
• Release date: Nov 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094378404

Book preview

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THISTLEWOOD

MANOR:

A DOLL’S DEBACLE

(An Eliza Montagu Cozy Mystery—Book Seven)

FIONA GRACE

Fiona Grace

Fiona Grace is author of the LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books; of the TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY series, comprising seven books; of the DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY series, comprising three books; of the BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY series, comprising six books; of the CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books; of the ELIZA MONTAGU COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books (and counting); and of the ENDLESS HARBOR ROMANTIC COMEDY series, comprising nine books (and counting).

Fiona would love to hear from you, so please visit www.fionagraceauthor.com to receive free ebooks, hear the latest news, and stay in touch.

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Copyright © 2023 by Fiona Grace. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Alaver, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY FIONA GRACE

ENDLESS HARBOR ROMANTIC COMEDY

ALWAYS, WITH YOU (Book #1)

ALWAYS, FOREVER (Book #2)

ALWAYS, PLUS ONE (Book #3)

ALWAYS, TOGETHER (Book #4)

ALWAYS, LIKE THIS (Book #5)

ALWAYS, FATED (Book #6)

ALWAYS, FOR LOVE (Book #7)

ALWAYS, JUST US (Book #8)

ALWAYS, IN LOVE (Book #9)

ELIZA MONTAGU COZY MYSTERY

MURDER AT THE HEDGEROW (Book #1)

A DALLOP OF DEATH (Book #2)

CALAMITY AT THE BALL (Book #3)

A SPEAKEASY DEMISE (Book #4)

A FLAPPER FATALITY (Book #5)

BUMPED BY A DAME (Book #6)

A DOLL’S DEBACLE (Book #7)

A FELLA’S RUIN (Book #8)

A GAL’S OFFING (Book #9)

LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY

MURDER IN THE MANOR (Book#1)

DEATH AND A DOG (Book #2)

CRIME IN THE CAFE (Book #3)

VEXED ON A VISIT (Book #4)

KILLED WITH A KISS (Book #5)

PERISHED BY A PAINTING (Book #6)

SILENCED BY A SPELL (Book #7)

FRAMED BY A FORGERY (Book #8)

CATASTROPHE IN A CLOISTER (Book #9)

TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY

AGED FOR MURDER (Book #1)

AGED FOR DEATH (Book #2)

AGED FOR MAYHEM (Book #3)

AGED FOR SEDUCTION (Book #4)

AGED FOR VENGEANCE (Book #5)

AGED FOR ACRIMONY (Book #6)

AGED FOR MALICE (Book #7)

DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY

SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF MURDER (Book #1)

SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF CRIME (Book #2)

SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF DEATH (Book #3)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A KILLER CUPCAKE (Book #1)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A MURDEROUS MACARON (Book #2)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A PERILOUS CAKE POP (Book #3)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A DEADLY DANISH (Book #4)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A TREACHEROUS TART (Book #5)

BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A CALAMITOUS COOKIE (Book #6)

CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY

A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER (Book #1)

A VILLA IN SICILY: FIGS AND A CADAVER (Book #2)

A VILLA IN SICILY: VINO AND DEATH (Book #3)

A VILLA IN SICILY: CAPERS AND CALAMITY (Book #4)

A VILLA IN SICILY: ORANGE GROVES AND VENGEANCE (Book #5)

A VILLA IN SICILY: CANNOLI AND A CASUALTY (Book #6)

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Crack! went the sound of the willow bat on the leather ball.

It was followed, a moment later, by a smattering of polite applause from the crowds surrounding the local cricket pitch.

Eliza Montagu joined in, looping her dog, Scout's, leash over her wrist as she clapped with faux enthusiasm.

Did you see that wrist spin? Excellent bowling, the man sitting next to her on the small wooden grandstand observed.

Excellent indeed, Eliza replied, pasting on a smile.

The cricket field was in a picturesque location, on a flat, perfectly groomed piece of ground opposite the village green, and about a mile from her family home, Thistlewood House.

In one direction was a view of a barley field, bathed in warm morning sunshine. In the other direction, was the quaint cricket pavilion with its white painted boards and artistic wrought iron trim. Beyond it was the village itself, nestled beside a wooded hill.

It was peaceful, beautiful and scenic.

And oh, so impossibly dull!

Sitting on the grandstand, Eliza tried not to fidget, stifling a yawn as the man in charge of updating the scores wrote new numbers on the board, and the fielders got themselves ready and the batsman got into position. Then, the bowler flexed his arms a few times before trotting down the pitch yet again, and hurling the ball in the batsman's direction once more, while everyone watched this as if they were actually absorbed and excited by it. She just couldn’t understand it.

Crack!

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter went the applause.

Well, that was a slog sweep, the man on Eliza's left commented. Very good lofted shot. Almost a sitter, but too well placed for that.

Absolutely. A display of exceptional skill, she agreed, with no idea what any of his terminology meant. The nuances of the game, though fascinating to the aficionados of the sport, were lost on her. It wasn’t for want of trying. She had tried, but she didn't get the point of it at all.

The only reason she was here at all was that Thistlewood House was a supporter of the village cricket series, and that meant that every year, Eliza, as well as her brothers Cedric and Melville, were expected to make an appearance and socialize with the teams and the spectators.

Eliza was never one to agree to do anything 'just because' it was expected of her, and especially when the game itself had so many of the upper class connotations that she despised. The only reason she was showing her face, grudgingly, was because her father had a particular fondness for the sport and had asked her if she'd be attending. When she’d narrowed her eyes in a rebellious fashion, he'd then whispered to her that the game bored him rigid, too, but it was a good place to socialize among the local community for business reasons.

Eliza had accepted that the need to speak to customers and potential customers, seek out business opportunities, and show her face with grace and enthusiasm, outweighed her personal loathing of a game that she thought was not only insanely dull, but also contributed further to society's divide.

Look at it! Upper class players, upper class audience. Where were the middle classes? Where were the servants who should be able to take part and to be proud members of the team? It was 1928, for goodness sake. Why was cricket still stuck in the 1800s, seemingly needing to be dragged out of it, kicking and screaming?

Eliza seethed quietly as she listened to the plummy accents around her, the muted choruses of 'old boy' and 'I say'.

She should have a talk to Mr. Benson, the village team's organizer and coach. Maybe it was just a question of opening his eyes to the possibilities for success that new, talented players might offer his team – which, although the complexity of cricket scoring was largely a mystery to her – she was aware had lost three consecutive matches so far this season.

It was no use criticizing the way things were if you weren't prepared to do your part to change them, she acknowledged. And maybe working on Mr. Benson would be a project for her to tackle after this cricket series was over.

Relieved to be turning her back on the action – or yawn-inducing lack of it – Eliza headed to the pavilion, adjusting the blue sunhat that topped her golden ringlets and matched her eyes perfectly.

Scout trotted obediently alongside, his hound tail waving happily as he took in all the interesting scents and sights.

It was a tradition that Thistlewood Manor provided all the refreshments for the cricket series, and since the refreshments were organized by Chef Rene himself, a cook of exceptional skill who presided over the Thistlewood kitchens, they were most definitely a drawcard.

Talking of refreshments, Eliza glanced around and noticed that the food table was now being set out, and the drinks table was also attracting some attention. She'd head there now, she decided. Eating some of Rene's delicious breakfast snacks would alleviate the monotony of the game. And maybe there'd be more of an opportunity to converse with their customers there, too.

She headed over to the pavilion. At its entrance was a table with copies of The Cricketer laid out in an elegant sheaf. The weekly black and white publication that was every cricket aficionado’s go-to. Though their price was sixpence, Lord Montagu had purchased a large quantity for free distribution to the crowds at this auspicious event.

Glancing at the headlines – an article on batsmanship written by a Lord, another on the correct way to run public school cricket coaching sessions – Eliza wanted to roll her eyes all over again. Even the wild card article on how to grow oranges in South Africa – how that got in there, she had no idea – offered her a brief flicker of amusement, but couldn’t entirely alleviate her frustration with the elitism of the game.

Seeing Chef Rene, in his chef's whites, busily setting out trays of snacks inside the pavilion, she headed in. Eliza hadn't had breakfast - after going for her morning run, she'd changed into a peach skirt and floral blouse and rushed straight to the cricket ground.

Are you enjoying the morning, mademoiselle? Rene asked, raising his head from the painstaking task of lining up identical pastry squares, topped with creamy nests of spinach and baked to a glorious golden-brown puffiness. Another tray contained bacon-wrapped prunes, one of Eliza’s favorite snacks, the crispy, salty bacon making for a perfect partnership with the sticky sweetness of the prune inside.

He met her gaze, and gave a conspiratorial wink. Rene knew her sentiments about the local cricket scene.

Isn't it a glorious summer's day? Eliza said in mock cheerful tones. Just the right occasion for a tranquil snooze in the sun. That’s what everyone’s doing here, right?

She gazed around. Her older brothers Cedric and Melville had said they’d be here mid-morning, which would then give her the excuse to leave, but she could see no sign of them as yet.

Rene grinned wryly, quirking a dark eyebrow at her. Ah, l’ennui du jour, he quipped, making a subtle reference to exactly how bored he could see she was. Perhaps a piece of fruit will add some pizzazz to the monotony?

He offered her a plate containing skewers of strawberries and melon, with mint leaves separating the chunks of fruit and sugar lightly dusted over the top.

Eliza took one and munched appreciatively, enjoying the fresh sharpness that the mint added, which paired perfectly with the crunch of the sugar, and the perfectly ripe texture of the juicy fruit.

She pretended not to look when Rene sneakily tossed a bacon-wrapped prune to Scout, who captured it in a single gulp, mid-air. His tail began wagging a notch faster. Scout was having a fabulous day! He, unlike Eliza, clearly loved the game of cricket and all the benefits it brought.

The clinking of glasses from the next-door table signaled that many of the spectators were already feeling the need for some alcoholic refreshment, available in the form of champagne or Pimms, with jugs of fresh orange juice for those who preferred to abstain.

As she munched on her fruit stick, moving away from the table of treats to allow others to converge, Eliza tuned into the conversation at the drinks, wondering if she should start to circulate among the drinkers and join in.

Over the usual chit-chat she'd expected, about the bowling and the batting, who was likely to score a hat trick, who was playing at silly mid-on and who was out in left field, she picked up something different.

A woman, with a piercing voice that she couldn't help but overhear, was speaking to her male companion - and to anybody else in earshot.

It's a very sudden decision to sell, I believe. The estate is so run-down it's practically a jungle. Someone's going to get the deal of the century if they snap it up, which I'm sure will happen very soon.

The deal of the century? What place exactly was this woman talking about?

With her interest piqued, Eliza sidled closer, hoping to pick up more of a conversation that suddenly made her glad she'd attended today after all. This sounded like it might be an exciting new business opportunity, but she already sensed that ‘the deal of the century’ was likely to mean a battle for ownership.

CHAPTER TWO

Approaching the well-dressed couple, Eliza hoped she could get more information on this intriguing-sounding deal. She noted from their matching wedding rings that they must be a husband and wife, and probably in their fifties. She was pink-faced and plump, he was slim and suave, and they were both wearing yellow and green scarves in support of the local village's team colors.

Now that she was face to face with them, she didn't recognize either of them. They were strangers to her, although from the familiar way they were sipping their fruit-filled glasses of Pimms while seated on one of the cushioned benches, she guessed they might be regular attendees at this event.

After all, she was the one who'd missed out on the social scene for years while living in London. She was surprised how many unfamiliar faces had gravitated into Thistlewood Manor's orbit during that time.

The woman, with well-coiffed, graying hair, was wearing a sunhat so broad that her husband had to lean back a little to avoid being jabbed in the forehead by its brim. Although, maybe he was also leaning back to put just a little more distance between his own ears, and his wife's exceptionally sharp and piercing voice.

Such a shame, she uttered. Those poor children! I believe George was never quite the same after the war, and then of course, Frances was engaged to that wonderful young man who was sadly killed while riding in a steeplechase race.

Eliza decided it was time to join in this conversation - while not revealing the full extent of her ignorance about the situation. Experience had taught her that it was always