by Beth Byers
“So you listened?” Mrs. Lancaster’s expression was blank. “Why?”
Violet set her sandwich aside. “Victor and I were orphans as far as parenting went, though our Father yet lives and he married again. My aunt loved us like a mother. I’d have learned Greek if that was her passion. I wanted her attention, her passion was building a fortune, therefore, I learned about managing money as well.”
Mrs. Lancaster nodded once as if Violet had been approved. “Which is your favorite Shakespeare play?”
Vi had not been expecting that question and she paused just long enough for Mrs. Lancaster’s expression to alter as if doubting Violet had read them at all.
“Twelfth Night,” Violet said. “Viola is a heroine of mine. She’s smart, funny, proves that women can care for themselves, but she still finds love in the end.”
“If music be the food of love, play on,” Mrs. Lancaster said. “That applied to Harriet, I think, and her Ethan. Those two sang like angels before he died. Too many duets with the perfect partner. She’d never have fallen in love again. Though, her voice and her happy personality made many a man love her.”
“Of whom do you speak?” Lila set aside her teacup and leaned towards her aunt. “It’s important, please.”
Mrs. Lancaster’s expression was sarcastic as she said, “Yes, dear. That’s rather clear I think. You don’t strangle some poor girl at a party unless you love her enough to hate her. I imagine the police will figure that out eventually. Even if they have to stumble onto the truth. Men are rather stupid when it comes to women, aren’t they? All this time thinking we need their guidance as though we haven’t been ruling the roost and their lives the whole time while they were unaware.”
“We’ll make sure the police discover the truth,” Violet declared. “Harriet will get peace and justice even if she doesn’t get her life.”
Mrs. Lancaster pursed her lips. “I like you more than I thought I would. You may have Kate to help you with things. As for the men? I’m not sure there isn’t one in town who wasn’t half in love with Harriet after she sang. She was beautiful, which is a necessity, I think, to have quite so many puppies loving you. Once she sang…well…everyone loved her. When you added in her kindness to Mrs. Knight, Harriet’s lingering love for her soldier? She became an unattainable angel. Men do want what they can’t have.”
“Did you ever see anyone watching her? Maybe following her?”
Mrs. Lancaster turned slowly to Violet and demanded, “What do you mean?”
“We found letters,” Lila told her aunt. “We took her journal and the letters. We’re trying to find out who was writing them. They are…disturbing. Violet and I think that the writer of the letters is Harriet’s killer.”
“Letters?” Mrs. Lancaster said. Her teacup shook on her plate and she looked ill when she turned to Kate. “Show them!”
Violet turned to Kate and saw that she looked sick too. “This was left on our table this morning. Where I eat breakfast. In my seat.”
Kate held out the note and Violet took it. She recognized the handwriting immediately. It was the ‘admirer.’ She looked slowly up and handed the letter to Lila, who cursed. Violet stood. This wasn’t just another cousin. This was the woman who had caught Victor’s heart. Violet would have helped Kate regardless, but with Victor involved? Anything. Anything at all to keep her safe.
“She should come and stay with us.”
Mrs. Lancaster frowned.
“Harriet died because she followed someone she trusted. Kate likely trusts this person, too. We don’t know what he will do. Why did he decide to kill Harriet after years of letters? What set him off? Kate could do it and not even know what she did.”
“You think you can protect her better than I?” Mrs. Lancaster demanded. She still looked ill and her hand was shaking. She’d reached out and taken hold of her daughter. Violet could tell by the way her fingers pressed into Kate that Mrs. Lancaster was holding her too tight.
“Yes, I do think we can protect her better than you can. We have Denny, Victor, and Jack in that house. Along with three gentlemen’s gentlemen, my maid, Lila’s maid, the butler, the housekeeper and a housemaid or two. Jack is a former soldier and a police officer. Victor plays at being an affable spaniel, but he is protective and careful.”
Mrs. Lancaster’s mouth twisted, and she moved to wrap her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
“We will simply never leave Kate alone, not with anyone from here. She can even sleep in my room.”
“That might enrage the killer,” Kate said. “What if the change sparks that rage that killed Harriet? He might be happy enough just following me and leaving those horrifying letters.”
“It might,” Violet said. Her gaze met Kate’s and they seemed to have the same thought.
“If I enraged him,” Kate suggested with a trembling lip, “I could be bait.”
“No,” Lila, Violet, and Mrs. Lancaster said at once. Violet, however, had second thoughts. Kate could be bait. They could end this. If they didn’t, Kate would never be safe.
“We’re not losing you, too,” Violet told Kate. Her brother was falling in love with this woman and because of those feelings, Kate had sprung forward to the very front of Violet’s own heart. Kate’s mouth snapped shut, but Violet was sure they hadn’t heard the last of the bait theory. Vi didn’t blame Kate—Violet would be tempted to do the same if she were the target of this madman.
“Take her,” Mrs. Lancaster said. “My husband isn’t as spry as he was. We don’t have other men in the house. I won’t lose my daughter. But you swear to me, you swear to me right now, to never leave her alone. Never.”
“Thank you for trusting her to us.” Violet took Mrs. Lancaster’s hand, kneeling in front of the woman. “We might be generally useless, but we love deeply. I promise you, we’ll keep her safe.”
Mrs. Lancaster laughed, but she wasn’t happy. “I suppose you’ll let her read those trashy novels and drink too much and even smoke.”
“We will.” Violet glanced at Kate, who stared at the letter she’d received as though she’d seen a ghost. Vi looked back to Mrs. Lancaster and whispered loudly, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your daughter is an adult. The good news is she’s also smart, kind, and clever enough to entrance the world, both the villains and the heroes.”
Mrs. Lancaster must have caught onto what Violet inferred because the woman’s gaze lingered on Violet, reading something in her expression. She spoke so low that only Violet could hear. “What would you do for your twin?”
“Anything,” Violet said.
Mrs. Lancaster glanced at Kate. “She thinks that no one worthwhile will ever love her again. Not after losing Monroe. To Kate, his love for her was inexplicable.”
“If I am not horribly mistaken,” Violet whispered back, “The best of men already does.”
“Is he useless?”
Violet shook her head, but she admitted, “You won’t find him pursuing a career. He’s going to laugh his way through life. He won’t write a treatise or discover anything. But, no one could love more deeply than him. There’s something to being adored.”
“Will you hate her if he loves her more?”
Violet’s shocked expression must have been the answer Mrs. Lancaster needed. She squeezed Violet’s hands and said, “He has to win her. She’s not an apple to be plucked or a kitten to be saved from drowning. Her father and I aren’t stupid. Kate will be fine with someone or without. He is not going to just decide and expect her to fall in line.”
“I would expect nothing less.” Violet pushed herself to her feet. “We need to find the gents and make them listen to us. Kate, gather whatever you need for a long trip. We’ll take you with us to Italy when we leave. If you don’t have what you need, we’ll take care of it on the way. Victor likes to stop in Paris since we always drink through our chocolate liqueur. It's divine in coffee.”
Kate didn’t seem to be fully engaged in the conversation. She was staring
off into the distance seeing something that wasn’t there. “It could have been me. If he’d focused on me first, I could be the dead girl, and Harriet could be the one who got a recent letter. I…I’m not ready to die.”
“That’s good,” Violet said merrily, hiding the sickness she felt. “We aren’t losing you too.”
Chapter 14
Mrs. Lancaster would have sent her daughter without anything, but Kate had put her foot down. “I’ll be fine with all of us here, Mama. I’m not going to leave behind everything when it will only take a few minutes to gather what I need.”
“I’ll help,” Violet said and went with Kate to her room.
“Oh,” Violet said. The bedroom had a canopy bed with thick blankets showing that Kate liked to sleep in a nest. The room was a little cool, but the curtains were pulled back to let the light in. Which set off the mess. There were clothes strewn across the room, stacks of books everywhere with letters and makeup laying haphazardly across the desk. The mess made her fingers itch, and Violet ached to clean it up.
“We don’t all have maids.” Kate glanced at her room and then admitted, “Perhaps my room is still a bit extreme.”
“You draw?” Violet asked as Kate put a sketchbook and pencils in a bag.
She glanced at Violet. “Don’t all well-bred young British girls?”
Violet sighed and shook her head. “I’m terrible at it. I can’t sing either.”
“I’m not a singer. I can draw, speak French, and play the piano.” She glanced around. “Would you grab that stack of books on my bedside table?”
There was a large encyclopedia of mythology, a very abused Shakespeare compilation, some tattered copies of Jane Austen’s novels, and to Violet’s delight, the twins’ last three books.
Violet lifted them with a wink, and Kate smirked back before she said, “Do grab those Twinning’s books. I was intending on re-reading those.”
Violet laughed and slid the books into Kate’s bag. She couldn’t help but run her fingers over the cracked spine of the book she and Victor had written. This was a book that had been read and loved but still well-taken care of. She had never experienced meeting someone who loved her books like this. It was always that they knew her, read her books, and then said they liked them. Having someone like the books before knowing her? Well, that was a bit of a surreal haze. Vi knew people read them. The twins had gotten letters, usually in response to some cruel critical review. To see the physical evidence of a book that had been read more than once and would be read again? It made Violet grin despite the grim day.
“Do you think he’s planning to kill me too?” Kate asked as she folded a nightgown and a matching robe.
Violet thought back to the few letters she’d read that Harriet received. “I think he intended to make Harriet love him. It was never the plan to kill her. It was the plan to…to…own her. She was supposed to be his caged bird. His captive dove.”
“A private songbird,” Kate said. “Why me? I sound like a toad dying when I sing. I’m not special like Harriet.”
Violet shook her head. “I once told my little sister we can’t help when men look at us and see something to desire. We can’t help it when they think we’re pretty or when they think we’re fun or smart. Who knows why he wants you? I don’t believe, however, that you aren’t special.”
Kate took a dress from a hook and folded it neatly as she said, “That’s not what men think. They think we owe them something if they want to spend time with us. A kiss for dinner, a life if they love us.”
Violet paused and took Kate’s face in her hands. “Someone else has tried to push their way into your life?”
Kate nodded once. “My father made him go away, but even Father felt like I should give him a chance. Mama was the one who made Father seen reason. Even now, Fathers talks about me being single and what might have been with that man.”
Violet wanted to shriek hearing that. “A man’s feelings or wants don’t matter if yours don’t match. If a man likes you, and you like him back—how wonderful is that? If you don’t, this is your life and your body. This is your fate that you’re crafting. You don’t owe them anything.”
Kate nodded and folded a dress into her bag. “It’s not that I don’t believe that. It’s just that we are raised to be grateful for whatever scraps they throw our way.”
“Never.”
“What about your Jack?”
“He’s never pressured me. Not once. Never expected something I didn’t want to give.”
“I know that your brother thinks he cares for me,” Kate’s tone was careful. “He doesn’t really know me. I won’t be his because you’re saving me. I’ll take the refuge you offer, but I won’t offer more.”
That, Violet thought, was worrying Kate almost as much as this hunter. Violet grabbed Kate’s shoulders. “I have so many thoughts. But let me be clear, my brother deserves to be loved. He’s outstanding. He’s kind and thoughtful. He’s protective of those he loves, but he doesn’t suffocate or order about the women in his life. He’s attentive and funny and smart and he’ll spend his days making the woman he loves happier than she can imagine. Whoever he loves should be grateful for him.”
Kate started to object and Violet held up a hand. “However, he deserves a woman who loves him back. If that’s not you, that’s fine. Someone else will. To be honest, we joke about me being the pearl of great price. In this day and in this age, with how men treat women—it’s Victor who’s more valuable than rubies. Whoever reels him in is to be congratulated.” Kate’s expression was wide and shocked at Violet’s fervent reply. “Fall in love with him or don’t. No one wants you to pretend to love him. You won’t be able to help, however, loving me. I truly am a gem.”
Kate laughed as Violet added, “Let’s get going, shall we? I believe that Lila’s cook has planned his version of Christmas dinner since we were going to be spending the holiday dinner with Denny’s parents. With Christmas Eve at Lila’s parents. Or we were before Harriett…” Violet shivered at that thought. “I, for one, am ready to be somewhere that feels safe.”
“Oh, I’ll need to get an evening dress. I didn’t even think beyond a dress for tomorrow. I suppose it’ll take longer than that to find this killer and the author of those horrible letters.”
Violet finished helping Kate gather her things. How long would catching this fellow take? They had no idea, so they included more than just a change of clothes and some toiletries. Violet insisted that Kate bring her journal, her portable writing desk, and plenty of art supplies. Kate ensured she had plenty of books even though Violet swore she’d share. Violet understood. Sometimes you needed an old friend to read.
There was something about sinking into a well-loved book that made you feel at home. Even if you weren’t home or safe. Violet didn’t point that part out, just pressured Kate until she packed the tattered Jane Austen novels as well.
* * *
The gents still hadn’t returned to Lila’s home when the ladies arrived. Inkwell, however, said that they stopped by and were informed that they were wanted. Denny swore he’d be back before long—a few hours ago. Whatever were they up to? Violet wanted to shriek in frustration, but instead, she brought Kate to their now shared bedroom.
Kate said, “I don’t need to be in here. I’d be all right in a room of my own.”
“Yes,” Violet agreed, “I think you would be. However, I won’t risk it. You’re going to sleep next to me with my barky little dog at the foot of the bed and possibly with my maid on a cot in the room. The first step of winning this thing is not giving our opponent any openings.”
“He can’t be all that attached to me,” Kate said. “There was but the one letter.”
“We’re not dealing with some schoolboy,” Violet countered. “This person is likely the killer of Harriet. I don’t think it is wise to assume that this fellow would behave the same as you or I or any of the men we know. Besides, you don’t know how long he was watching you and thinking of trading
Harriet in for you.”
Kate nodded. She opened her bag, but Violet could see that Kate didn’t want to put her things into the space Violet was using. Violet rang a bell for Beatrice and said, “Shall we take poor Rouge out for a little walk? She does love to chase a ball.”
Kate didn’t want to, but Violet pushed the matter until Kate gave in. When Beatrice appeared, Kate stepped into the bath, giving Vi the chance to enlighten the maid.
Violet whispered, “Make Kate a space of her own. Perhaps have someone bring in a chair for her? With a table that has drawers? Move my things to the side, so she can use the vanity as easily.”
Beatrice nodded and then asked, “My lady, is everything all right?”
Violet shook her head. “We have reason to believe that the person who killed Harriet might have focused their…illness on Kate. She is never to be alone. Like when you helped me with Theodophilus Smythe-Hill. The only people you can trust are the ones who came with us.”
Beatrice nodded frantically and whispered, “Oh my lady. How awful!”
“Care for her as you do for me, please?”
“Of course!”
“Whatever we can do to make her feel safe and comfortable. Safe first.”
Beatrice nodded, already moving to open the bags and put things away.
The door to the bath opened and Kate stepped out, eyeing the two women.
Violet asked, “Did things get sorted out for the orphans?” The intent was to distract Kate, but Violet was distracted by the answer.
“Actually,” Beatrice said, “Mr. Inkwell suggested you talk to Mrs. Lancaster about managing the donations to the orphanage and the needs of the children. When I told him I thought you might take care of more than just new blankets and regular eggs, he suggested that Mrs. Lancaster might be a good judge of what the children needed to be healthy and happy while also being careful with your money.”