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A Staged Death by Samantha Larsen

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Welcome back to Salty Inspirations! I’m so happy to have Samantha Larsen visiting again. You may remember her last stop here, featuring A Poetic Pox: A Lady Librarian Mystery, where we heard from Mrs. Tiffany Woodall Lathrop.

Today, Samantha returns with A Staged Death: A Lady Librarian Mystery, bringing a bit more theatrical flair to the mystery. If you’d like to revisit her previous guest appearance, you can check it out here: A Poetic Pox: A Lady Librarian Mystery by Samantha Larsen.

Detective Quiz: All the World’s a Stage

By Samantha Larsen

Guess which popular eighteenth-century plays from these opposite hints:

1. He Jumps to Lose

2. Slow

3. The Virtuous Princess

4. The Performance

5. The Friends

6. The City Woman

7. Some Woman Out Her Spleen

8. Large Metropolis

9. Mister in His Old Age

10. A Homeschool for Honor

In A Staged Death, Tiffany and Thomas find the body of Miss Julia Shakespeare, the famous actress Miss Rosalyn Arden’s understudy and the person who has been blackmailing members of the acting company. Not only are the actors behaving suspiciously, but so are Rosalyn’s newly reconciled relatives that cast her off nine years before. If all the world is a stage, then someone acting innocent must be the murderer. Can Tiffany solve the mystery before the final curtain?

The quiz answers are below!

A Staged Death: Lady Librarian Mysteries by Samantha Larsen

About A Staged Death

A Staged Death: Lady Librarian Mysteries Historical Cozy Mystery 4th in Series Setting – 1787, Bath. Publisher: Dreamscape First Audible.com Release Date: March 31, 2026 Listening Length: 8 hours and 30 minutes Author: Samantha Larsen Narrator: Marni Penning ASIN: B0GCGRPKHW goodreads badge

A cozy historical mystery set in the 18th century—perfect for Bridgerton fans!

1787, Bath. Mrs. Tiffany Lathrop has catalogued the entire library at Astwell Palace and is feeling rather dull when Mr. Thomas Montague invites her and her husband Samir to visit Bath. Thomas begs Tiffany to help reconcile his mother Catharine, the Marchioness of Harwood, on his engagement to the famous actress Miss Rosalyn Arden—a beautiful young woman with bright red curls and eyes of mismatched color.

Eager to see his beloved, Thomas stops at the Theatre Royal with Tiffany and they discover a dead body wearing a red wig in Rosalyn’s dressing room. The body is that of Miss Julia Shakespeare, Rosalyn’s understudy and the person who has been blackmailing members of the acting company. Not only are the actors behaving suspiciously, but so are Rosalyn’s newly reconciled relatives that cast her off nine years before when she jilted Sir Frederick Bingham, who then married her younger sister.

If all the world is a stage, then someone acting innocent must be the murderer. Can Tiffany solve the mystery before the final curtain?

©2018 Samantha Larsen (P)2026 Dreamscape First

About Samantha Larsen

Samantha Hastings met her husband in a turkey sandwich line. They live in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she spends most of her time reading, having tea parties, and chauffeuring her four kids. She teaches World Literature at Brigham Young University. Her young adult fiction books are Junior Library Guild Gold Standard selections, and her historical romances are published around the world. She also writes murder mysteries under Samantha Larsen that Publisher’s Weekly called “wildly enjoyable.”

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Quiz answers:

1. She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith

2. Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

3. The Amorous Prince by Aphra Behn

4. The Rehearsal by George Villiers

5. The Rivals by Richard Sheridan

6. The Country Girl by David Garrick

7. Every Man in His Humour by Ben Jonson

8. Hamlet by William Shakespeare

9. Miss in Her Teens by David Garrick

10. A School for Scandal by Richard Sheridan

A Staged Death – Excerpt

To die upon a kiss.

—Othello by William Shakespeare

June 3, 1787

The Astwell Palace Library was as silent as a crypt.

And there was not one thing for Tiffany to do. She’d already catalogued and sorted every single book in the collection into a new-fangled card catalog with small wooden drawers, copying what Gottfried van Swieten had done in the Imperial Library of Austria. It was now very easy to add new books to the collection without having to redo the written catalog.

Tiffany wished to earn her wages and would have dusted the room, if any dust could be found. But her dear friend and employer Catharine, the former Duchess of Beaufort and newly married Marchioness of Harwood’s large staff kept every room in the palace in excellent condition. Slouching in her seat, Tiffany admitted to herself how much she missed her friend and her sons. They had all gone to London for the Season on the insistence of Nicholas, the popular and handsome Marquess of Harwood. Nicholas had assured them all that they would be welcomed with open arms by the beau monde. Before marrying Nicholas, Catharine had been snubbed by Society because of the unfortunate manner of her first husband’s death. Her adopted son, Thomas Montague, was no more welcome in Society because he was of African descent, and Englishmen could be quite prejudiced. But with Nicholas as his sponsor, Thomas had been invited to join all of the best gentlemen’s clubs and made new friends. Even Beau, the nine-year-old Duke of Beaufort, had written to Tiffany to tell her how much he was enjoying his visit. His

stepfather (who was also his biological father) had taken him to Astley’s Amphitheatre to see the shows, Gunter’s for ices, and even to a boxing club.

They were all terribly happy without her.

As it should be. Tiffany loved each of them dearly and hoped that their new little family would be as happy as her own. But she still missed them. And without her friends, the little village of Mapledown seemed rather dull.

A few years ago, she had no friends, no position, and no family of her own. She’d lived day to day as her half-brother’s drudge; relieved to have a roof over her head. And now she was pining for the glittering lights and entertainments of London. Tiffany was ashamed of herself. She had the most handsome and intelligent husband in the entire world. Samir was a brilliant conversationalist and a keen listener. They had been blessed with two beautiful children. Nat, whom they had adopted, and their sweet little Priya, who Tiffany had recently weaned.

Perhaps that was it.

Tiffany missed being needed. Depended upon.

Samir had kindly offered to take both children to his bookshop today so that Tiffany could work in peace and quiet. Only, there was nothing to do and no one to do it with.

Her shoulder’s lifted as she released a long sigh.

She heard a light knock and immediately sat up in her chair. The door opened, and to her amazement, Thomas walked in. Her friend was over six feet tall, with dark skin and eyes, and a brilliantly white smile. His lavender suit of clothes was the latest fashion from Paris, and Tiffany could clearly see his stepfather Nicholas’s guiding hand in his appearance. He looked splendid.

Thomas held out his hands to her and Tiffany sprang to her feet to meet him. She hugged him tightly. “Thomas! You look wonderful. London must agree with you. But oh, how I have missed you! As has Samir.”

It wasn’t just his expensive raiment that had changed, there was something different about Thomas’s facial expression. There was a light and happiness that Tiffany had not seen before. Not even when he’d been engaged to the late Miss Doddridge before she was murdered.

Her friend kissed her cheek and stepped back. “And I have missed my two dearest friends as well. That is why I have come to steal you both away to Bath for a week.”

Tiffany blinked, almost convinced that she was dreaming. Booksellers and librarians did not gallivant to a stylish spa town like Bath to partake of the waters and entertainments. That was the only disadvantage to being friends with those of a higher rank and fortune—there was the temptation to be disappointed in one’s own lot. She and Samir didn’t even own their own carriage or horse. A holiday in Bath was quite out of the question. They had their children and their employment. They were not wealthy aristocrats with nothing else to do but to seek entertainment throughout the year.

Feeling overheated, she shook her head. “You must be jesting.”

“I am not,” Thomas said, smiling. “My mother quite insists that you come to Bath and bring your husband as well. I persuaded her and Nicholas to make a short visit there.”

Tiffany tilted her head to the side, still not quite understanding why they were being invited. “Is there a publisher in Bath whose books she is interested in acquiring? Or perhaps a rare book that she wishes to add to her library?”

Thomas laughed. “No, it is not for your professional expertise that you have been summoned, but for your powers of personal persuasion. Mama hopes that you will convince me to break off my engagement to Miss Rosalyn Arden.”

She couldn’t help herself, Tiffany blinked again and even pinched her arm to make sure that she wasn’t sleeping—it hurt. “Congratulations…I think. But I don’t quite understand, Thomas. You look happy and whole and better than I have ever seen you. Yet you have come at your mother’s request to bring me to Bath to convince you to break your engagement?”

His brown eyes positively danced. “No. Quite the opposite, in fact. I am hoping that you will convince my mother to support the match. You have enormous sway with her. In fact, it was Nicholas’s idea that we invite you. Mama quickly agreed, but for the opposite reason.”

Tiffany’s lips twitched at the compliment, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she had any influence over her friend, who had been a duchess and was now a marchioness; and before then she was the daughter of an earl. In truth, Tiffany thought that Nicholas did not wish to be in Catharine’s bad books, and therefore intended for Tiffany to take the fall. “I will of course help you in any way that I can. But my mind is quite muddled. Why have you all traveled to Bath?”

Laughing, Thomas sat down on the nearest sofa. “You’d better take a seat and allow me to tell you the entire story.”

Sitting next to him, her chest still feeling rather tight, Tiffany said, “Yes, please.”

“I met Rosalyn—Miss Arden—or rather, I first saw her at a play at Covent Garden in Drury Lane. She has the reddest hair I have ever seen. The curls are like flames around her face. And her beautiful eyes are meant to have odes written about them.”

Tiffany didn’t attempt to suppress her smile this time. “I take it Miss Arden is incredibly lovely.”

He dipped his chin. “The loveliest. I didn’t meet her for another fortnight, but I went and saw her perform every night. Tiffany, she is the most talented actress that I have ever witnessed. I am transfixed when I see her on the stage. She makes me believe that I am in different worlds with each role that she plays.”

“She must be very talented indeed. But how did you meet her?”

“After her performance, I bribed a servant to provide me with an introduction. I only wished to express my deep admiration for her talent, of course.”

Tiffany pinched her lips. She was certain that Thomas’s admiration was for more than this young woman’s talent. He was a healthy and very handsome young man, after all.

He continued. “Yet when I stood outside the door to her dressing room, I could not manage even one word.”

This time, Tiffany did laugh, and Thomas joined in her mirth.

“I know, how ridiculous! After a couple of minutes, Rosalyn said, ‘I have rendered you speechless, sir. Perhaps you would like to take me to dinner.’ And of course, I did. But I was still unable to speak, so I could only nod. With the help of her maid and understudy, she changed from her costume into a lovely gown. There were several wigs of different shades in her dressing room. I half expected her beautiful red hair to be a wig and said as much. Rosalyn suggested that I give it a strong tug to see that it was indeed attached to her head.”

She grinned widely. “I like your Miss Arden already, but do tell me more about her. Where is she from? Who is her family?”

Not that Tiffany’s own family was of high rank. Her maiden name was Woodall, and although they were distantly related to the Duke of Beaufort, her family had been poor. Her late father was only a vicar in the church, and her half-brother a librarian. Tiffany was curious about

Miss Rosalyn’s family situation, for that would explain why Catharine opposed the match. Her friend was quite a high stickler. Especially when it came to her sons.

The light that had shone so brightly in Thomas’s face dimmed a little. “Rosalyn’s from a small village near Bath named Lacombe; where her father is the rector.”

Tiffany released a sigh of relief. Actresses came from all walks of life, and Tiffany feared that Miss Arden might have come from less genteel circumstances. As the adopted son of a duchess, Thomas could have married a woman of higher rank, but at least Miss Arden had been born a gentlewoman. Unlike his first love, Miss Sarah Doddridge, a beautiful ladies’ maid who was rather too free with her favors before her unfortunate and untimely death.

She tapped her fingers against her knees. “I suppose your mother is opposed to Miss Arden’s profession.”

Actresses, unfortunately, had a reputation of being women of loose morals. Many were kept as mistresses to aristocrats. The famous Irish actress, Mrs. Jordan, lived openly with Sir Richard Ford and had illegitimate children by him.

Thomas swallowed. “Yes, Mama is not pleased by Rosalyn’s profession and the fact that she does not wish to quit it when we marry. You know my mother, she is quite antiquated in her ideas of what a gentlewoman can and cannot do.”

Tiffany did understand Catharine’s perspective, but she also hadn’t wished to quit her own profession as a librarian when she’d married and had children. Therefore, she couldn’t blame this young woman for not wanting to do so either. Lower class women continued to work after marriage. Although according to English law, when a woman married, her property became her husband’s, as well as any wages that she earned. Unlike many, Tiffany and her husband shared everything. And Samir had never treated her like a possession, but as an equal. But such a relationship was rare.

“And what of Miss Arden’s family. Do they support the match?”

Exhaling, he shook his head again. “Rosalyn ran away from the rectory when she was sixteen to join an acting company in London. She was cut off entirely. She hasn’t spoken with her parents or her younger sisters in nine years. That was one of the reasons the company has gone to Bath for the summer months. Rosalyn wishes to reconcile with her family and for them to attend the wedding. That was another reason why I wished for you and Samir to join us. I’d hoped the Ardens could see that a mixed-race couple can be very happy.”

Tiffany let out a low whistle. She felt a surge of sympathy for her friend. It appeared that neither family would support their match, and it was difficult enough for a couple to be successful without the pressure of family disapproval. Tiffany felt her cheeks grow warm. Her own father and half-brother would not have approved of Samir because he was part Indian and the owner of a bookshop. He would not have been genteel enough, or the right color. A small part of her had been relieved that they had already died before her marriage. And as a couple, she and Samir still received their fair share of odd looks and hushed whispers. Tiffany did not care what the small-minded people of Mapledown thought of her husband or her marriage. But it did sting a little when they pointed at the brown skin of her daughter. Priya was a beautiful little girl, but some people could never see past their own prejudice. Thomas and Miss Arden would unfortunately discover this as well. As would their children.

She held out her hand. Thomas took it and squeezed it. “Anything to help you, my friend.”

“Splendid. We will leave at once.”

*

Tiffany’s body felt heavy and she cried when Thomas’s carriage left her home and her two perfect children in the very capable hands of Mrs. Able, her housekeeper. There were two hired maids to help her, as well as Mrs. Able’s young son Peter. Tiffany and Samir were only to be gone for one week, and perhaps a visit to Bath and its healing mineral waters would help her emerge from the lowness she’d been feeling of late.

Samir gave her a handkerchief and she dried her eyes. Tiffany had been longing for change, and she was not going to spend the entire seven days of their trip weeping over her children at home. She would miss them of course, but she was more than just a mother. She was a wife. And a person in her own right. Leaning back in her seat, Tiffany was determined to enjoy herself. Secretly, she’d always longed to see the fashionable city of Bath, and now she would be staying in the Royal Crescent. A townhouse in a very desirable part of town—Catharine would not have accepted anything less.

Just before Bath, the carriage passed through the small village of Lacombe that looked to be several centuries old. Most of the buildings were made from stone, and a few in the Tudor style with white stucco and dark timber frames. Thomas pointed out the small church and the rectory where Miss Arden had grown up. It reminded Tiffany of her own childhood home. How she missed it! But like all church-owned houses, it had gone to the new vicar. She’d been forced to leave it, as well as the graves of her parents in the adjacent churchyard cemetery.

“Have you visited the Ardens yet, Thomas?” Samir asked, as they passed by the rectory.

“We only arrived in Bath on Friday, and we haven’t had the time yet, for Rosalyn had performances both Friday and Saturday night. I know that Rosalyn has sent a letter to her parents about her arrival, but it hadn’t been answered when I left this morning. Perhaps they will be more open to reconciliation if we visit them in person.

Or there could be a very ugly scene.

But Tiffany kept such a negative thought to herself. She hoped that the Arden’s would accept not only their daughter who had run away, but their soon-to-be son-in-law. It would be the Christian thing to do, but in Tiffany’s experience clergyman could be the least charitable of all people when it came to forgiveness and understanding. Perhaps it was because their congregation expected perfect behavior from both them and their families.

But no family was perfect.

No person, either.

Tiffany would also have added that no town was perfect, but that was before she saw Bath. The buildings were made from a creamy limestone that complimented the classical Romanesque designs. Unlike Mapledown, every building was in harmony with the one beside it. There wasn’t the usual hodgepodge of materials and sizes. Even the trees were trimmed and the grass cut short and even. She’d never seen any city so large or beautiful before. As they went on a lovely bridge over the River Avon that ran through the center of town, Tiffany realized that her bladder was also full of water and in desperate need for relief after a long ride.

The carriage pulled to a stop on Orchard Street in front of the Theatre Royal. It was a honey-colored building with several windows, but only one window on the ground floor had a set of green shutters. The same color of green was on the doors. Tiffany noticed that there were separate doors for the gallery and for the boxes meant for the wealthier clientele. And then there was a small wooden fence that partially blocked the view of the last green door. There was a man leaning against it as if he were guarding the entrance.

Thomas gave Tiffany and Samir an apologetic look. “I know that we are all covered in dust from our journey, but I wanted to stop and let Rosalyn know that we were able to make it back in good time. And that we will all be attending her performance in She Stoops to Conquer this evening. I have already secured us a box. Then we can go to my mother’s house and freshen up.”

“Not a problem,” Samir assured him. “We shall wait in the carriage.”

Thomas stepped out, but before he could close the door, Tiffany got to her feet. The urgency she felt in her bladder could not be ignored for a moment longer. “I am afraid that I need to use the necessary. Do you mind if I accompany you inside?”

Her friend’s lips twitched, but he nodded formally. Thomas offered Tiffany his hand and helped her out of the carriage. The porter standing in front of the side entrance tipped his hat to Thomas—which Tiffany assumed meant that her friend was well known to this company—and then opened the door formally for them. Thomas led her through a dark hallway to the first door. She hoped it was the necessary, her need had increased since leaving the carriage, and she wasn’t certain how much longer she could hold in her water.

Thomas knocked lightly and then opened the door.

Alas, it wasn’t a retiring room or a necessary. A transom above the door let light into the small chamber. It was a dressing room with mirrors, wigs, cosmetics, costumes, and a body with vibrant red hair on the floor. The young woman was unnaturally still. Thomas pulled away from Tiffany with a sob of anguish.

“Not you, Rosalyn! Please, not you too!”

He knelt by the body and Tiffany did not move a muscle. She was in shock. How was it possible that not one, but both of Thomas’s fiancées had been murdered?

Thomas touched her wrist for a pulse, but apparently found none. Tiffany watched as he kissed her hair and then with gentle hands, he turned the dead woman’s body over, and then the most astonishing thing happened—the red wig fell off. Thomas had assured Tiffany that the red curls belonged to his affianced bride. The woman’s face was heavily made up with cosmetics, but Tiffany could tell that she had been pretty underneath them. She didn’t look older than twenty-five. The only thing that marred her appearance was the circle of redness around her neck in the pattern of a rope or chain with a sort of pointed shape on the center of her throat. The poor woman must have been strangled.

But who would want to murder a young actress?

Overcoming her surprise, Tiffany moved forward and put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “I am so sorry, Thomas. So very sorry. Poor Miss Arden.”

Thomas shook his head slowly as if not quite believing what he saw. “This isn’t Rosalyn, but her understudy and maid, Miss Julia Shakespeare.”

“Julia!” a female screamed from behind them. Her voice hoarse. “Somebody get help! Help!”

Tiffany turned and saw a woman standing in the doorframe with the reddest hair that she’d ever seen, curling in all directions. Not at all unlike the wig that had fallen off the poor unfortunate young woman. Miss Rosalyn Arden’s nose and eyes were already red. Perhaps she had a cold and that was why her understudy had been in her dressing room in full costume, as if ready to go on stage? Tiffany sucked in air sharply.

Had Miss Rosalyn Arden been the intended victim?

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Thank you to Samantha Larsen for stopping by and sharing this fun theatrical quiz with us. If you enjoy cozy mysteries with a dramatic twist, A Staged Death is one to add to your TBR. While you’re here, feel free to browse around for more bookish fun and cozy inspiration.

As always, thanks for stopping by for some Salty Inspirations! —Michelle❤️

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