Let us Talk of Many Things; of Books and Queens and Pirates, of Mystery and Kings...: Rachel's Random Resources Book Tours A Husband Is Hushed Up by Helen Golden

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About the Book

A Husband is Hushed Up

A fatal fall. A duchess determined to uncover the truth. And barely any time for tea.

Fenshire, 1891. It was meant to be a birthday celebration weekend in the country—cucumber sandwiches, polite conversation, and maybe a waltz or two. But when the Duke of Stortford is found dead in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs everything goes dreadfully sideways. The police declare it a tragic accident. His wife, Alice, has her doubts. After all, only hours before, the Duke had promised to give up his mistress and make a go of their marriage. Now he’s inconveniently deceased.

Driven by a need for answers, and helped by her fiercely loyal maid Maud, her observant footman George, and her childhood friend Lord Rushton, Alice sets about uncovering the truth. But as she navigates a house full of secrets, simmering tensions, and more than one guest with murderously bad manners, her suspect pool grows to include those closest to her. Can she piece together the truth? Or will her husband’s murderer get away with it after all?

The guests are leaving. The killer may be among them. Time is running out…

Purchase Links

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Husband-Hushed-Duchess-Stortford-Mystery-ebook/dp/B0FB916FDV

https://www.amazon.com/Husband-Hushed-Duchess-Stortford-Mystery-ebook/dp/B0FB916FDV

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.

Follow Helen Golden

Insta: https://www.instagram.com/helengolden_author

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/helengoldenauthor

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@helengoldenauthor

https://twitter.com/HelenGoldenAuth

read an excerpt

A Husband is Hushed Up by Helen Golden — Let us talk of many things

It’s May 1891. Alice, Duchess of Stortford, has travelled to Fenshire to her family’s estate, Francis Court, to celebrate her father’s 60^th birthday. But it’s all a bit awkward. Alice’s husband, Vance, is also there with his rumoured paramour. After much swallowing on pride on both Alice and Vance’s parts, and a fair amount of negotiating, they agree to give their marriage another chance. But when a scream pierces the quiet of the night, Alice and her loyal maid, Maud, rush into the darkened corridors to investigate, what they discover on the grand staircase will alter the course of Alice’s life—and set her on a path that will test both her courage and her instincts for uncovering the truth.

Extract

She wiped her hand across her forehead as she sat up. All was quiet.

I must have been dreaming. Unless, of course… A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Unless it was the ghost of Agnes, the seventh Duchess of Arnwall, who, rumour had it, roamed the house—

A high, desperate shriek drifted up from somewhere below.

That’s no ghost!

She reached for the tasselled cord beside the bed and gave it a firm tug, then swung her legs over the side of the mattress, wincing as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She snatched up her silk wrap from the bedpost, and slipping her feet into her velvet slippers, she padded across the room towards the door. As she reached for the handle, the door swung open, revealing a wide-eyed Maud on the other side.

“You rang, Your Grace,” her maid said, her chestnut curls in disarray. “Are you unwell?”

“No. But did you hear a scream?” She walked past Maud and out through the door. The upper floor hallway was quiet, but the scream lingered in her memory.

“I heard nothing, ma’am.” Maud followed her out of the room, frowning. “Are you sure it wasn’t a—”

A muffled wail cut through the stillness.

“Oh!” Maud stopped.

“Indeed!” Alice turned to look at her maid.

“What do you think is amiss, ma’am?” Maud whispered, her dark eyes wide.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Her pulse was still racing. “But there’s only one way to find out. We must see at once. Come!”

Ushering Maud ahead of her into the dim corridor, they set off down the passage, past ancestral portraits peering from the panelled walls. The plush Turkish carpet muffled their footsteps as they hurried towards the grand staircase.

Maud slowed down as they approached it and turned around to face Alice. “Er, ma’am. Don’t you think we should wait and call—”

Waking her father, the duke, or calling a footman would be sensible. Yet, she’d feel uneasy remaining in her room while someone might be in need of help.

She squared her shoulders and walked past her maid. “No, Maud. Someone might be in trouble.” She sped up. “Stay by me and do try not to trip over anything—we cannot have both of us tumbling down the stairs in the dark.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maud mumbled from behind her.

They approached the top of the imposing grand staircase as another piercing scream made Alice start. Her heart leapt into her throat. Gripping the thin brass handrail above the ornately carved and gold-painted balustrade, she peered down at the black-and-white chequered marble-tiled foyer of the Painted Hall.

There, halfway up the stairs, a maid stood stock-still, her hands clamped over her mouth in horror. The girl’s cap was askew, and even from a distance, Alice could see her trembling.

Good heavens, what’s wrong?

Her gaze followed the maid’s terrified stare upwards—beyond the polished banister, to the broad half-landing above. A figure lay crumpled on the shallow platform where the stairs turned, half in shadow.

Her stomach lurched. Someone has fallen! But who…?

She squinted. Why is it so dark? The main staircase was always lit at night, especially during house parties.

She glanced over to the wall. The wall sconce closest to the second-floor landing—the one that usually cast a soft pool of light down the upper flight—was dark. Not just dimmed but completely extinguished. It must have gone out…

She leaned closer, but without the sconce’s steady glow, the landing below was cloaked in gloom. She could just make out the outline of a man—one leg askew, one arm stretched out awkwardly—but his face was hidden, his features swallowed by the dark.

A chill ran down her spine as the awful truth settled over her. The man was…

“Oh, ma’am,” Maud whispered next to her, her voice trembling. “I think... I think he’s…”

“Dead, Maud. Yes, indeed.”