The Secret of Hollyfield House

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The Secret of Hollyfield House Page 18

by Jude Bayton


  Warmth enveloped my cheeks. No one had ever spoken to me in this manner. Desire pulsed through my veins as I relished the flattery while simultaneously felt shy. “I am unsure how to respond and maintain my ladylike reputation,” I stammered weakly.

  Dominic stared at me for a moment and then gave a short laugh. “Oh, I have embarrassed you? I am sorry.” He leaned back to see my face better. “I meant it as a compliment sweet Jilly. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

  He was so sincere. I moved my face closer to his, while the stirring in my body throbbed like a drumbeat. Much to my own surprise, I initiated a passionate, deep kiss.

  When the kitchen door handle turned, I leapt to my feet and hit my knee against the table.

  “I’m back, Miss Jillian—” Mrs Stackpoole stepped into the kitchen and stopped in her tracks as she saw Dominic at the table, and me red-faced, rubbing my knee.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were keepin’ company this evenin’.” Her face registered disapproval, enough for me to recognise her opinion of my being unchaperoned, alone in the house with a man.

  “It is only Dominic, Mrs Stackpoole. He is back from Kendal and thought to see my uncle. I shared a sandwich with him. We were just speaking of the funeral yesterday.”

  The mention of the funeral did precisely what I had hoped. Mrs Stackpoole’s judgmental expression changed instantly as the insatiable village gossip within her took charge.

  “Now that was a strange affair, was it not?” The older woman settled herself across from Dominic. “I never before saw a family in such a hurry to put a body in the ground. Didn’t even stay to see all the mourners as we came out of the church. Shockin’ manners if you ask me. An’ them the gentry.”

  Dominic pretended to agree. I could see him preparing to stand and make his escape. I did not blame him. His day had already been long, yet I was reluctant for him to leave without telling me about his meeting with Victor.

  “I’ll not tarry. If you will excuse me, Mrs Stackpoole.” He rose and gifted her with a smile.

  “I haven’t chased you off now. Have I, Dominic? ’Twas not my intent I assure you.” She gave him a beguiling glance.

  “Not at all. I have been gone the better part of the day. I should get back to the farm and tend the animals before they run away to find somewhere else to eat their dinner.” He glanced my way. “Can you stop by tomorrow at your earliest convenience, Jillian?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, then I bid you ladies both a good night.” He turned and went out of the kitchen door, leaving a vacuum in the room where he had been.

  WITH THE HOUSE SECURED FOR THE night and the lamps doused, Mrs Stackpoole bade me goodnight and we retired to our respective rooms. I lay in bed. Undulating thoughts filled my head, most centred around Dominic and our time together. I examined the catalogue of memories I had already amassed with him. Had it been just a few weeks since we had met? Strange, but it was difficult to picture my life without him being a part of it now. How different might it have been, had Billy not been arrested? Indeed, it was surprising our relationship had managed to even start under these terrible circumstances.

  I reached over to my night table and on impulse did not extinguish the lamp but opened the drawer to retrieve the tin containing the moonstone. Its presence had slipped my mind with everything else going on in the past week. But now I held it in my fingers and studied its bright iridescence. Who had given this to my mother? Was it a man she truly loved? My thoughts went to Dominic. Had she felt as strongly for this stranger as I did for Dominic Wolfe? The idea surprised me. What did I feel for the handsome artist? Love? Affection? Compassion?

  I closed my eyes. I did not want to love Dominic Wolfe. For everyone I loved always left me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I WALKED TO WOLFE FARM AND my fingers toyed with the moonstone in my pocket. I had fallen asleep with the gem in my hand, and for some reason felt the compunction to keep it on my person today. There was such significance to the stone, or at least there had been to my mother at one point in her life. Regardless, somehow it made me feel closer to her.

  It was early, but I knew Dominic would already be up and busy tending the livestock. I was certain he would not mind my coming. The morning promised yet another beautiful day. Birdsong trilled in the air. Even the creatures were happy it was almost summertime.

  I found Dominic in the stables, mucking out the stalls.

  “Good morning, Jillian.” He paused and leaned on the pitchfork. “I’d greet you more warmly, but I smell of manure.”

  I laughed, noting the sweat beading upon his brow. He had clearly been working for some time.

  “Can I help?” It seemed a feeble offer, but I made it anyway.

  “Not out here. But if you’ve a mind to put the kettle on, I’ll come in presently and share a mug with you?”

  I nodded and left him to his work.

  By the time Dominic joined me in the kitchen, the kettle had boiled, and sausages sizzled in the frying pan. I was not sure if he had breakfasted, but the look of delight he threw my way told me he had not. I had warmed a pan of water, and I poured it into a tin bowl so he could clean his face and hands. It did not take long, and while he washed, I fried eggs and a piece of crusty bread.

  I joined him at the table with a hot mug of tea and watched with interest as he devoured the plate of food I placed before him. While he ate, I showed him the moonstone.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked, taking it from my hand. He examined it carefully and held it up to the light. He frowned. “It is a pretty pendant. You don’t have an admirer I should know about do you?”

  I laughed. “Of course not. It belonged to my mother. It seems she was the one with an admirer, before she met my father. Apparently, a mysterious man gave her the moonstone, and when their relationship ended, Mother left it in my uncle’s care. I found it tucked into the back of a wardrobe, and Uncle Jasper told me its history.”

  Dominic handed it back. “Well, now you have unearthed a hidden treasure, you should let me find you a chain so you can wear it as a necklace. My mother had inexpensive pieces of jewellry. I will look and see if I can find one which might fit.”

  “Oh no, Dominic,” I said quickly. “I couldn’t take something that belonged to your mother.” I put the stone back in my pocket and met his even stare. He looked as though he wanted to say something else and then changed his mind. The moment was awkward.

  “I am curious about your meeting with Victor yesterday.” I changed the subject, anxious to get on a more comfortable footing with him.

  He took a sip of his tea. “Yes, it was unfortunate Mrs Stackpoole decided to interrupt us last evening before I could tell you.” He grinned, and a wicked light shone in his amber eyes. “Though perhaps it was fortuitous, for I might not have behaved myself at all.”

  My cheeks grew warm, but I was not embarrassed—in fact, quite the opposite. I liked this man’s attention and praise.

  “How did you find Victor?”

  “Suffocating in a houseful of well-meaning relatives who are sorely trying his patience. However, we had a good conversation, and he brought me up to date with Kemp’s findings.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Kemp plans to introduce the idea that Billy’s knife was used by another to kill Flynn. Therefore, either intentionally or by chance putting Billy in the frame for murder. He will introduce Peggy Nash’s information, though he does not expect it to hold well because of her mental state and lack of credibility. But it lends itself to support the theory of his innocence. With the discovery of Flynn’s financial obligations to a few dubious characters, it provides other candidates with motives far outweighing my brother’s. Whenever there is violence, it is common to find money issues at its heart.”

  “And what of the blackmail?” This was shaky ground.

  Dominic leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh. “That is where things become murky, J
illian. There is evidence in the scrap of paper found that Flynn was a blackmailer. But as Victor points out, we would have to compare the writing to identify him as its author. If it is proved he wrote the note, then who was it sent to? As far as Victor is concerned, Louisa Mountjoy is his only victim. We cannot name her in a court of law and expose her relationship to the blacksmith.”

  It was my turn to sigh. “And you cannot tell Victor about Evergreen and Flynn’s relationship, or what we know of Perry and Marik, all three potential blackmail victims, without exposing everything and disgracing the family.”

  “Not to mention Perry and Marik breaking the law. The scandal would ruin Victor, and possibly be the downfall of his business too.”

  “But those are the most incriminating reasons for Flynn to have been killed—wouldn’t that, and other evidence of his gaming debts be enough to introduce doubt of Billy’s guilt?”

  “Yes.” His tone was resolute. He assuredly had dwelled on this information since speaking to Victor.

  “So, we are stuck.”

  “It seems we are. At least for the time being. The trial date is coming up. If only we could find another person besides Peggy who saw Billy that day, and could place my brother away from the murder scene—” The utter frustration in his voice tore at my heart.

  “Well then, Mr Wolfe.” I smiled with a forced bravado I did not feel. “I suggest we get busy.”

  MY UNCLE HAD COME HOME WITH a new project from Leicester University which totally absorbed his thoughts. Upon his return he gave me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and then disappeared into his study, simultaneously exclaiming, “I shall take all my meals in here until I am finished with this damnable essay.” True to his word, he remained closeted for the entire evening, even chasing away Mrs Stackpoole, who was completely affronted by the rejection. I soothed her frayed ego with a cup of tea and kind compliments about the fabric of her dress, counting each moment until she would settle. I desperately wanted to go up to my room and think without interruption. Perhaps I was a little like my uncle, after all.

  Later that evening, I sat at my small writing table studying the blank piece of paper before me. I was not sure where to start. There were so many loose ends to this puzzle. If I could just write it all down, then I might see a pattern. I began to note everything I had learned since first meeting Evergreen. As I listed the names of the people I had met, and the events which had taken place, I noticed her name more than any other kept cropping up. Could Evergreen LaVelle be the link between everyone?

  There were obvious people with reason to take issue with Jareth Flynn and subsequently wish him dead. But wanting someone dead was still a far cry from perpetuating murder. I sighed. This was a messy tangle indeed, and the days were passing swiftly. Before too long, Billy Wolfe would be on trial, and his life hung in the balance.

  If I had ever suspected Billy of murder, those suspicions had been vanquished time and again as we discovered many others had their secrets. It was despicable for the killer to target the poor boy, lay the blame at his feet, knowing he would have no chance of proving his innocence.

  Therefore, I should look at it this way. Who stood to gain by getting rid of Billy? Were they killing two birds with one stone? I made a mental note to talk to Dominic about this new theory. After all, it really did make sense to look at it from a fresh angle.

  Billy Wolfe. I had met him only briefly, and I did not know his personality other than what had been relayed by others. But if I could speak with him, then surely I would get a better understanding of who he was? That, in turn, might help me determine who his enemies were.

  It was apparent the LaVelle children did not care for his association as half-brother to them both. Neither Evergreen nor Perry acknowledged Billy. Moreover, Evergreen made no secret of her disdain for the boy. But it would be an exceptionally cruel and vindictive person who would label him a murderer and watch him hang on the end of a gibbet. Owning a blood relationship to a mentally challenged sibling might be burdensome for a perfect family like the LaVelles. But watching an innocent boy swing was evil beyond redemption.

  I concluded that I would ask Dominic to take me with him on his next visit to the Kendal Gaol. Would he be comfortable with my request? I did not know. Perhaps he might enjoy the company on what must be such an emotionally arduous task.

  Dominic’s visage filled my thoughts. I held great admiration for him. Other than the undeniable pull of attraction between us, as I watched him navigate this worrisome and challenging time with his brother, it brought home to me what an unusually good man he was. Dominic had lost his only opportunity to become a successful artist in London by returning to care for Billy after their parents’ death. Now he faced a terrifying consequence should Billy be found guilty. Yet, somehow, he still maintained a sense of decency and tried to keep things as normal as possible. Was I in love with Dominic? Did I see him through the bewitched eyes of one under his spell? Possibly.

  It was little wonder a man like him could interest me. I knew myself to be on the precipice of a new journey in life now both my parents were gone. I had no family, save Uncle Jasper. And by the looks of things, his relationship with Mrs Stackpoole continued to prosper. At some point, I would need to reconsider my prospects and where I might live, should the two of them form their own union.

  There was much to think on. I set down my pen and stared at the paper with my scribbles. First, I would talk to Billy Wolfe. There was something both Dominic and I were missing in this story. Though I could not see it, I was aware it lingered in the corners of my mind and knew it was only a matter of time before clarity came. For now, I would focus upon the mess at hand. In that precise moment, something inside me budded. Finally, I felt as though I had real purpose. I closed my eyes, making a promise to myself. I would determine what had happened to Jareth Flynn and Marabelle Pike, if it were the last thing, I would do.

  DOMINIC CALLED BY LATER IN THE day. I waited until we were sat in the kitchen before I asked permission to see his brother.

  He was surprised by my request. “I am not sure if that is wise, Jillian. After all, Billy is in a state of flux as it is. He might be confused as to your intent.”

  I had already considered this. “I realise that. But I can tell him I have checked on the calves to make sure they are faring well. Billy would like that, don’t you think? I also have a new book for him to read. He might even enjoy seeing someone different for a change?”

  He was not convinced. Dominic was extremely protective of his younger brother, which was commendable. Yet at this stage in our investigation, we needed anything we could grasp.

  “Look, Dominic. What is there to lose at this point? We have been so focused upon the victims in this crime that we have not considered Billy a victim himself. How could it hurt to explore the theory, see if there is another angle we have missed? I do not know Billy well, so I will not be as biased in my appraisal of him, as you and even Victor are. I will not be threatening either, so he should feel comfortable talking to me. Especially if you tell him I am to come ahead of time.”

  Dominic’s shoulders sagged. I felt badly for him. I laid a hand on his forearm. “Dear man, I have naught but the desire to help you. I believe your brother is innocent, and I only want the chance to see what I can do to prove it.”

  He looked up at me then, and my breath caught in my throat when I saw the pain shining in his beautiful eyes. Dominic had already borne so much. How brave he was keeping his emotions in check, concealing the weight of his concerns each and every day.

  “Then you may see him, Jillian. I will ask permission at the gaol today.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled with as much reassurance as I could muster. He was exhausted, and my heart went out to him. But as I looked at his face, a knot of fear gnawed in the pit of my belly. Because I realised that if Billy Wolfe hanged for a crime he did not commit, I did not know what Dominic would do.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  DOMINIC JOINED US FOR DINNER on
Sunday evening. I found his appearance worrisome. I comprehended that as the days drew closer to Billy’s trial, so Dominic’s concerns and fears increased. This was evident in the harsh set of his features, the shadows under his eyes. Dear God, I hoped I could ease his distress.

  After dinner, Dominic seemed in a hurry to leave. This would have been disappointing except when he bade farewell to Uncle and Mrs Stackpoole, he asked me to go along with him, at least to the end of our street. It was a beautiful night, and I readily agreed. I took my shawl to wrap across my shoulders as there was a little chill in the air.

  As soon as we were outside, he spoke. “I go to see Billy in the morning, Jillian. I have permission from the gaol for you to come with me.”

  I linked my arm through his. “That is good news, Dominic. What time shall I be ready?”

  “We can meet in the village for the ten-o’clock coach, if it suits you?”

  “Yes, that will be fine.” We had already reached the last house in the street.

  Dominic stopped under the gaslight and then turned to face me. “Jilly,” he said softly. “You are the kindest, loveliest person I know. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all you have done—are doing to help my family.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

  The sensation was tender, and tears pricked my eyes. As Dominic pulled back, I studied his face intently.

  “I wish I could make your problems disappear. You and Billy are so undeserving of all that has happened. I cannot tell you how I admire the way you have dealt with this dark episode in your life. Your kindness, dignity, and grace in such a time of turmoil are an example to the rest of us. I am so fortunate to count you as my dearest friend.” My voice wavered.

  Dominic reached up and wiped a tear from my face with the pad of his thumb, and then slowly caressed my bottom lip. “And you are mine, Jilly. I could not endure this without you by my side.” He became quiet, yet his eyes told me his desires. I kissed his thumb, and we both smiled.

 

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