“Nadir? Nadir is back home?” Abra seemed puzzled by this news. “He wasn’t supposed to return from the village until tomorrow, for the Earl’s arrival.”
“Village?” Jax and Perry questioned her at the same time.
The beautifully sad woman nodded. “Yes. Since we needed the additional income, I encouraged him to visit the nearby village and offer his healing services. He stays there for three or four days at a time. I wonder what sent him home early…” her voice trailed off, and the room was quiet for a moment.
“Well, whatever the cause of his return, Nadir helped our man George bring the body down to the cellar,” Jax continued. “Since it was dark in the greenhouse, we decided it would be best to take a look at things in the morning, just to make sure everything was in order.” From there, she explained how they had come to suspect foul play, and that the discoloration of Tarek’s tongue and mouth suggested poison.
“Virtues, you believe he was murdered?” Ferran’s words were barely audible.
Jax nodded, her expression grave. “Yes. We believe his death was staged to look like a suicide.”
“Why?” Abra cried out. “Why would someone do such a thing? Why would they want to shame our families like this?”
Perry stepped forward and patted the hysterical woman on the back to help comfort her. “Do you know anyone who would have a grudge against Lord Tarek? Against either of your families?”
“No one comes to mind who we’ve offended.” Ferran wrung his hands. “Tarek, on the other hand, might have. He certainly had a condescending way about him. He never mentioned anyone giving him any trouble, though.”
Having witnessed the young man’s rude and pompous behavior, Jax wondered if Tarek had pushed someone too far. “What about anyone wanting Ogdam Oasis for themselves? Without the Earl’s financing, won’t you be forced to sell the property?”
Ferran reached for his wife’s hand and held it gently. “We’ve been savvy enough to keep our money troubles to ourselves. Even Earl Killiam was surprised when we suggested the stewardship arrangement.” His eyes filled with sadness. “While the Oasis is a jewel, I can’t imagine anyone taking such dire lengths to force us to sell.”
Abra sent a hopeful look to her husband. “If we can survive the summer months, we just might be able to get by until guests start arriving for the winter. Maybe next season things will turn around for us.”
Ferran nodded but didn’t appear entirely convinced. “I hope we’ll have more guests. Although, having someone murdered on our estate might frighten them away.”
A cynical smirk tugged at Jax’s lips. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you received more visitors because of it. People tend to romanticize the morbid.”
“It would feel wrong to benefit from Tarek’s death in such a manner, but I hope you are right, Lady Victoire.” Ferran wiped his forehead clear of perspiration with his handkerchief. “Have you spoken to the other guests about this? Does Samira know?”
Jax shook her head. “We thought it might be best if it came from you. I’m happy to be present, if it helps her understand what’s happened.” She paused. “As for the other guests, we have not shared our findings with them, either. Nadir said he planned to tell you after the Tandorians left, but we thought it best if you knew sooner rather than later.”
Ferran’s gaze darkened with anger. “Why he didn’t tell us immediately is beyond me. This is grave, indeed.”
Abra’s words were more cautious, her wide eyes narrowing in on Jax. “May I ask why you didn’t adhere to my son’s wishes? He is, after all, the future Master of this estate.”
“I thought it best,” Jax said, squaring her shoulders, “that you be informed so your guests could be properly questioned before they leave.”
Ferran’s jaw dropped. “You think one of the guests might be involved?” he asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know what to think.” Jax’s mind was a hurricane of questions, each one more confusing than the last. “Everyone will be arriving for breakfast shortly, so I’d suggest you break the news to Samira now.”
“You’re quite at ease for having discovered a dead body, Lady Victoire.” Abra’s words were casual in tone, but an undercurrent of daggers pulsed through them. “It seems rather odd for a lady born into nobility to be so familiar with death and murder.”
Jax fought to keep her expression neutral as the lie formed on her tongue. “Unfortunately, we had a rash of killings on my family’s estate while I was growing up. I’m afraid this isn’t the first time I’ve stumbled across a vicious crime.”
Seemingly content with her response, Ferran resumed nervously twisting his hands. “Well, we’ve never had experience with anything like this before, Lady Victoire, so I would appreciate your assistance in telling Samira the news.”
“Of course.” Jax could hardly believe her good fortune, but she hid her joy behind a reverent dip of her head and followed Ferran and Abra out of the room. “Wait here, will you?” she whispered to Perry. “Observe the other guests as they enter the room. If there is a killer among them, perhaps they’ll show signs of distress.”
Perry gave her a playful salute. “Good luck,” he said, and Jax kissed him on the cheek in thanks.
She followed the Ogdams along the corridor to the kitchen. Clanging of pots and pans revealed Samira still hard at work.
The young woman was cracking eggs into a skillet when they entered, not looking up from her work until her father cleared his throat. “Good morning, Father, Mother.” Her face wrinkled with confusion as she took in their grim expressions. “Is everything all right? Is something wrong? Is Nadir okay?”
Ferran rested his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, shushing away her questions. “My dear, we have some dreadful news about Tarek to share.”
Jax gave the family some distance as Ferran told his daughter Tarek had died during the night. Samira’s hand flew to her mouth as she muffled a small shriek, and tears flowed freely from her doe eyes. Jax was surprised by her passionate reaction, but reprimanded herself for thinking that just because Samira hadn’t wanted to marry the man and leave her home, it didn’t mean she had no feelings for him.
“H-how?” Samira managed to choke out between sobs.
Ferran shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Well, my dear, this might be distressing to hear, but Lady Victoire was the one who found Tarek. It looked like…like he had hung himself.”
Samira’s sadness contorted into something darker. “What? He killed himself?” she cried, sounding angry. “Why would Tarek do such a thing? Why would he bring dishonor on his father and our house?” She ripped her apron from her waist and threw it to the ground. “How could he? What will become of me now? The Earl will likely blame me for his son’s death because we were both unhappy about being engaged.”
Jax’s curiosity piqued at this admission. Here was confirmation that Tarek had not been pleased with the arrangement either. Could he have had second thoughts about getting married and somehow ended up dead because of it?
Samira remained visibly upset, but focused on the eggs cooking on the stove, stirring them with renewed vigor. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of one hand as she worked, muttering to herself. Distraught over her uncertain future had clearly taken precedence in her mind.
Jax stepped forward, sending a questioning look to Ferran. Why wasn’t he telling his daughter Tarek’s suicide had been staged? She was about to ask him directly when she saw the scrutiny in his eyes. Virtues, he’s trying to figure out if Samira was the one who poisoned Tarek!
The patriarch sucked in a breath, and his chest deflated as he released a sigh. “Samira, my dear, there’s more to the story than that.” Ferran clutched his hands behind his back and took a step forward toward Samira. “As I said, when Lady Victoire found Tarek, it looked like he had killed himself. We’ve actually discovered something far more sinister.”
Samira’s knuckles went white as she met her father’s heavy gaze. “What do you m
ean, Father?”
“It seems Tarek was dead before he was hung from the rope.”
“What?” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her eyes wide.
Abra rushed to wrap an arm around her trembling daughter. “He was poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Samira’s head whipped toward her mother, her expression a mixture of confusion and horror. Either she was an incredibly gifted actress, Jax thought, or she hadn’t been the one to poison her future husband and was truly stunned to hear the news.
“Yes, poisoned.” Jax decided it was time for her to speak up. “Did you see Tarek at all last night?”
All the color left Samira’s face. “I saw him at dinner. He also escorted me back to my room once I was finished in the kitchen. That was around ten in evening. I don’t know where he went after.”
Jax tried piecing together a timeline leading to Tarek’s death. Master Vyanti had taught her there were few poisons in the realm that took more than a couple of hours to cause a reaction, and Tarek had been dead only a short while when she found him in the greenhouse at nearly two in the morning. That meant the poison had been ingested well after dinner. “Did you two share a cup of tea or anything before saying goodnight?”
Samira snorted, her old self shining through her grief. “Goodness, no. Tarek hates my teas. I’ve tried to create a blend he likes—liked—but never found one.” She twisted her long hair around a finger as she thought. “In fact, I never saw him drink anything other than whatever he kept in his little pocket flask.”
Pocket flask? Jax hadn’t thought to check Tarek’s trousers for any personal belongings. “Did Tarek carry it on his person at all times?”
Samira nodded. “He even filled it himself. He lectured me more than once how vital it was for a man of his station to be careful.”
“Did he think someone was out to get him?” Jax asked.
“Not seriously. I thought he did it to try and convince me, and maybe even himself, that he was more important than he really was.” Samira paused to sniffle. “I can’t believe I teased him for it.” A fresh round of tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Jax frowned as she pondered this latest information. I need to find that flask.
Samira’s gaze flashed to her father. “Are you gathering the guests to tell them?”
Ferran nodded with tired eyes. “Yes. We need to see if we can ferret out the killer. The Earl will want answers when he arrives tomorrow.”
Samira shuddered. “I forgot the Earl was coming. He’s going to be devastated.”
“At least he won’t have to deal with the shame and dishonor that would have stemmed from Tarek ending his own life,” Abra said, wrapping a strong arm around her daughter.
Jax delicately cleared her throat. This seemed like a good time to make her exit. She backed away from the grieving family. “I’ll give you all a moment to process what’s happened. I’ll see you in the banquet hall shortly.” She departed, leaving the family to mourn in private. As she wandered to the pantry and down the cellar steps, she replayed the reactions of the Ogdams in her mind. They all seemed genuinely upset about Tarek’s passing, Ferran and Abra more so, because they knew the Oasis’s future was now uncertain. Without Tarek and Samira’s marriage, their deal with the Earl would be called off, and if things didn’t improve financially for them soon, the Ogdams might be forced to sell the estate and move.
Jax concentrated on the scenario for a moment. Ferran had said neither Samira nor Nadir knew about the arrangement with Earl Killiam, but what if the siblings had found out? If Samira knew her marriage to Tarek would spare her family’s beloved villa from falling into ruin, she seemed the type to do whatever it took to save her family, which meant she would proceed with the plan to marry the Earl’s son. Nadir, on the other hand, stood to lose his birthright. If he had found out Earl Killiam planned to take his ancestral home and name his father a mere steward, Nadir could have taken measures into his own hands. That could explain why Tarek’s death had been staged as a suicide. Nadir could have wanted shame to cover the Killiam name so the Oasis would remain his.
She arrived beside the covered body, trying to find the holes in her theory, but the more she thought about it, the more Nadir seemed to emerge as a viable suspect. He’d come home in the middle of the night, with everyone thinking he wasn’t due back for another day. When Jax and George encountered him in the greenhouse, Nadir’s distraught reaction upon finding Tarek dead had quickly morphed into cold indifference. Or was it anger? Did he really believe the man capable of killing himself so easily, or was he just numb to the sight?
As a member of the family, Nadir would have known Tarek’s preference for using a pocket flask. Jax lifted the moldy sheet, mindful not to raise it past Tarek’s midsection. Alone in the cellar, she didn’t want to gaze upon the dead man’s face. She stuffed searching hands into his pockets.
There were only bits of lint in the front pockets. Jax shifted the stiff corpse slightly to reach the pockets on the back of his trousers, finding nothing in the right. In the back left pocket, her fingertips brushed against cool metal, and she grabbed the object and wiggled it out from under the dead weight.
A small, sterling silver flask glinted in the sunlight that streamed in from the high windows carved into the cellar walls. Jax eagerly unscrewed the top, put the flask under her nose and took a tentative sniff.
Chapter Fourteen
The eye-watering odor of wine wafted into Jax’s nostrils, sending her into an immediate coughing fit. “Vivectoir, if I’m not mistaken,” she mumbled to herself, once the coughing had subsided. The Vivectoir vineyards produced notoriously strong grapes, making their wines very distinct in taste and smell. Her familiarity with it stemmed from having spent a month in Hestes a few years ago while on an agricultural tour on behalf of her father, the late Duke of Saphire. Her delegation had spent many a night drinking barrels of Vivectoir, and the fragrant grapes lingered in her memory.
Her astute nose detected no blemishes in the wine’s famously pungent scent, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been poisoned with something odorless. She would ask Edrice to assess the contents of the flask.
She tucked the container into her skirt pocket and rearranged the sheet over Tarek. Once the news of Tarek’s death spread, whoever killed him might come looking for any evidence suggesting foul play. If Nadir was the culprit, he’d made a grave error leaving the flask on Tarek’s person this long. That meant either Nadir wasn’t the killer or he had poisoned Tarek by some other means.
Jax swiftly moved through the shadows as she ascended the stairs to the pantry. Hurrying along the hallway, she saw Uma and George standing outside the banquet hall, anxiety written all over their faces. Upon seeing her, the strain visibly released from their shoulders.
“There you are!” Uma rushed forward. “We saw you disappear with the Ogdams over twenty minutes ago. When they came back and you didn’t…we nearly rose the alarm.”
“I’m fine,” Jax reassured her friend, giving George an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry I had you worried. Samira mentioned something while we were in the kitchen, and I wanted to check it out.” In a hush, she filled George and Uma in on what had occurred between Samira and her parents, as well as finding the flask.
Exasperation painted George’s face red. “Did you ever stop to think the murderer might have been down in the cellar getting the flask himself when you decided to venture down there?”
Jax admitted to herself the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but to George, she merely said, “Well, I was alone. No harm, no foul.”
The Captain of the Ducal Guard leaned in so close that his lips almost brushed her ear. “I know you’re pretending to be someone else, but you cannot forget who you really are. You can’t go putting yourself into these situations without thinking first.”
Jax’s cheeks heated at his rebuke, but she knew he had a point. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, averting her eyes from his gaze. “Where are our other companions?”
Uma tucked a strand of mousey brown hair behind her ear. “Perry and Vita are in the banquet hall, keeping an eye on the guests. Everyone is already assembled inside. The Ogdams arrived just a few minutes before you did, so we should go in and take our seats.”
“Yes,” Jax agreed. “I want to be there when they break the news.” Shaking the stress out of her neck, she held her head high and gracefully strolled into the dining area, hoping she appeared to be the picture of ease. To everyone except Edrice and Ammon, she was still just a noblewoman enjoying the first leisurely morning of her holiday. Spotting an empty seat next to Ines, the Tandorian woman, Jax sat down beside her and smiled in greeting, figuring this was the ideal opportunity to get to know Ines better. “Good morning.”
Ines was midway through a sip of her tea, so she raised her eyebrows in return greeting. “I’m sorry,” she said after swallowing, “I didn’t see you approaching, Lady Victoire.” She placed her cup back on its saucer. “Good morning. Did you rest well?”
Jax only had time to nod before Master Ferran stood up at the head of the table. He cleared his throat, asking for silence without opening his mouth. Jax studied the reactions of those around the table. Abra’s beauty was muted in grief, but she sat to the left of her husband, her back tall and erect. Samira perched beside her with a drawn and gaunt expression. Across from Abra sat Sir Olavo, who paused his conversation with Monsieur Louis, seated beside him, to turn his attention to Ferran.
Alasdair swirled the liquid in his goblet, his manner brooding and aloof. Based on his behavior so far, Jax had determined he was more at home in the outdoors than around a fancy table.
Edrice and Ammon sat next to Samira, with Perry, Vita, George, and Uma rounding out the occupied chairs at the table. Only Nadir and Hendrie were missing from the scene. She knew Hendrie was positioned by the greenhouse, but what about Nadir’s whereabouts? Had his family not sought him out after she’d left the kitchen?
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