“We haven’t,” I replied, and reached for Miles’ hand. “We’re the Bannermans.”
The guy looked surprised.
“Barring a remarkable coincidence, either you’re related, or married.”
“We’re married,” Miles replied.
“To each other,” I added.
“However did you manage it,” the guy said in amazement.
If he knew, he really would be amazed.
“Divine intervention,” Miles smiled.
The guy chuckled.
“Yes, it would take no less than that to be seated beside one’s own spouse at Bannerman manor. Barring another remarkable coincidence, you must be Sir Edmund’s relations we’ve heard so much about.”
“I suppose that all depends on what you’ve heard,” I replied.
“Well, that… you’re visiting from America,” the guy said, but what he heard about the most was our detective skills, and our alarming knack for coming across dead bodies.
Two bodies! That were already there!
“That’s right, we are,” Miles replied.
“What do you think of it?” the guy asked, with a glance that encompassed our surroundings, and was probably meant to include the Isle of Camden as a whole.
“It’s great, other than the dead bodies,” I said. “Two, anyway, but it’s a first for us. We keep hearing the Isle of Camden has a low crime rate. We’d never guess, after what we’ve seen. And experienced. Other than that… it’s great.”
“Yes… what a shock that must have been,” the guy remarked. “It’s a first for the Isle as well, so I hear.”
“Then here’s hoping that’s the end of it,” I said. “If we never stumble across a body again, I’ll be perfectly happy.”
“It does seem we’ve more than filled our quota,” Miles agreed. “I’m Miles, by the way, and this is Anika.”
“Arthur Pendleton,” the guy replied. Finally, he had a name! “My wife, Eileen, is across the table, there.”
Five chairs down, a woman similar in age, glanced over. She returned her husband’s smile, then turned back to the animated conversation going on beside her.
“What’s the point of separating couples?” I asked. I was curious to know what explanation, if any, was given for doing so.
“It hails from the Edwardian era, so I’ve been told,” Arthur replied.
“The royal family does the same,” added the regally dressed woman in deep velvety turquoise and purple, seated beside him. Whether she approved or not, she gave no indication.
“It spares awkwardness for those without a significant other,” said the woman across from Arthur. She had to crane her neck to see around the centerpiece, and she had no idea what she was talking about.
“That’s robbing Peter to pay Paul, and there are an even number of male and female guests,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but it places all on an equal footing,” she clung tenaciously to her assertion.
“Equally miserable, perhaps,” Arthur half-snorted.
“Peculiar the exception given Sir Edmund and Countess Grieve,” the regal woman said with a glance in their direction. She quickly looked away again.
“You do wonder what on earth the woman’s thinking,” asserted a woman in black. She kept her eyes well away from the Countess’ end of the table.
“Which one?” the woman in ivory silk, on the other side of Miles, countered dryly. “The Countess, or her future mother-in-law?”
“Both, of course,” laughed the woman in black.
“Title means everything to some,” the regal woman asserted.
“There is her father’s fortune, as well,” the ivory silk woman considered.
“Some might find it worth the social discomfort to absorb it into one’s own,” the woman in black acknowledged. “Though I should not think Lady Carlisle would be moved by such a thing.”
“Nor should I,” Arthur agreed. “The Carlisles are well invested, so I understand. They’ve no need to suffer social embarrassment for the sake of combining the two estates.”
“What do you suppose motivates the Countess?” I asked.
That apparently took some mulling over.
I was fine with that. I took advantage of the lull, and focused on tuning in to any truths that might come my way. If I missed anything of interest, I could count on Miles to fill me in later.
Conversation babbled around me as I studied each group of guests, and flitted through the truths that had nothing to do with murder, be it man, or rose.
What I did hear, was about as useful as the conversation I left behind. If that didn’t change soon…
As I scanned those seated around Lady Carlisle, I saw her speak. What she did not say, was that the Carlisle investments were ill-equipped to withstand a downturn in the market. Because that was the truth. She didn’t say they could ill afford the expense of the charity ball this year either, or that she was desperate for a way out of the seemingly bottomless financial pit they were pushed into. That, too, was the truth.
I felt bad for her. The coldness, the emotional detachment, how much of it was a cover for her desperation? She’d have to be, to want her son to marry the Countess! And that, was what it was all about. Well, maybe not all of it. She genuinely did not approve of Sir Edmund’s desire to marry Ashley. She also valued adding another title to the Carlisle name. But as strong a motivator as any other, was the Grieve fortune, and the salvation it would bring to the manor.
Ug! How horrible it all was. I stopped short of glancing at the Countess. What did she think of… anything? Did she think, at all? Was she following in the footsteps of her parents, as many believed? Otherwise, what would explain her fashion insanity, lack of interaction, and spaced-out mental state?
Although… she responded when Miles informed Lady Carlisle she insulted us by suggesting Delacroix escort me to dinner. The Countess did respond, I saw that flash of interest in her eyes. I forgot about that in the wake of everything else, but now I remembered, and I was pretty sure I didn’t imagine it.
Delacroix hasn’t yet developed Grieve Castle because he doesn’t have the legal authority to do so.
I shot Delacroix a look, because that truth was about him. Was it in response to a lie he told, or someone else?
He was talking, so maybe it was him.
Whatever he said now, it wasn’t a lie, because I got nothing more.
Miles nudged me, and I realized another course was taking the place of the one before. Which I totally missed. As I had no idea what the previous course was, and it looked slimy, I didn’t feel too badly about it. The new installment appeared more appetizing, so I devoted part of my attention to eating. The rest, I split between Delacroix’s current, and previous, conversations.
He hasn’t yet developed Grieve castle, I mulled. So he would, if he had the right. But he doesn’t. He was… what, to the Countess? He was her guardian at one point, but that must have ended when she turned eighteen. Or maybe it was twenty-one over here, I had no idea, but she was surely past that. So of course he didn’t have the right to develop her inherited property, and maybe he never did. But that word yet left me thinking he expected circumstances to change. Why? Did he plan to have her declared mentally incompetent? But he approved of her engagement to Sir Edmund. Did Delacroix think he could get him to go along with his plans? But why would that be easier than getting the Countess to cooperate? She was engaged, and didn’t even seem to know! She didn’t seem to. But did she?
I learned nothing more, and was not disappointed when dinner finally ended. It was only four-thirty in the afternoon where we were from, but it was eleven-thirty at night, here. If we were to get a full eight hours’ sleep, we needed to get home, give our friends the abridged version…
Which would still encompass more time than we had to spare. A lot happened here today! Two dead bodies, Finn’s disappearance, the mass destruction of the hybrids—and the bud that showed amazing staying power. It was currently in our room, under the
protection of one of Miles’ forcefields. It was also sitting in a glass of water, because I personally didn’t want to test and see how long it could go without. It proved itself enough already, and deserved a drink. Miles didn’t disagree, so it got one.
There was a lot we didn’t know, but what we were sure of was that florists and patrons alike would be eager to pay more for roses that would last. It was sad watching a flower arrangement die—so I’d been told—and they did, all too quickly. Brides would go wild for fresh roses like those at our wedding. Judging by what we saw so far, I would be surprised if this rose fell short of that standard. Whoever marketed it would make a killing, and someone was willing to kill, to do that.
“What thought has you frowning?” Miles asked quietly, as we followed the corridor toward the main staircase. We opted for sleep, rather than drinks in the lounge, cards in the library, or coffee in the drawing room. Apparently the rest of the manor’s guests had more energy than we did, because we were the only ones headed back to our room. Considering the day we had, and the continued effects of jet lag, no wonder! Although, we’d likely be calling it a night anyway. It was almost midnight, for goodness’ sake!
“Are you still with me?” Miles shook me a little with the arm he had around me.
“Oh, yes,” I snapped out of my thoughts. “I’ve been thinking to myself longer than usual. I guess I got out of the habit of talking.”
“Okay,” Miles laughed, though he also gave me a funny look. “I’m here, and I’m listening. So what thought has you frowning?”
“A lot of people are assuming Finn killed Harry Price,” I frowned again. “It seemed like every time I checked back in, someone around us was stating it as fact.”
Miles considered that, and nodded in acknowledgement.
“You’re right. I heard the same thing.”
“I wish we knew where he was,” I lamented.
“Tomorrow, we’ll try to find out,” Miles assured me.
I looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw one of the footmen headed our way.
“If you please, sir,” the footman said politely, as he held out a small envelope. “I was instructed to deliver this.”
“Alright, thank you,” Miles replied, as he accepted it.
The footman nodded in acknowledgement, and continued down the hall.
Miles examined the name printed on the flap, then slid it open.
“It appears to be from Lady Carlisle,” he commented. I watched curiously, as he removed the note it contained. As I briefly scanned the words written there, I felt a burst of renewed energy.
“I wonder why she wants to see us? But who cares! This is our chance to talk to her!”
“She requests that we join her in her office…” Miles said. He sounded more speculative, than excited. His lack of enthusiasm motivated me to reread the note, but I still didn’t get it.
“What?” I wondered.
“Wait for her in the inner office if we arrive before she does,” Miles paraphrased. “That doesn’t strike you as more than a little suspicious?”
“What, like… what do you mean?” I questioned.
“You’ve clearly never experienced this before,” Miles replied. “I have. It paid then to proceed with caution, and it does now.”
“You think Lady Carlisle isn’t the one who sent this,” I understood. “Or that she did, and she’s trying to set us up, somehow?”
“Maybe. Or, maybe not. But knowing the tight control Lady Carlisle keeps on absolutely everything… I don’t believe she’d invite us on an unaccompanied tour of her inner office, or that she’d leave it unlocked, in the first place. Do you?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “She wouldn’t!”
“Can you run in those heels?” Miles asked. There was a teasing gleam in his eyes, but the answer was…
“Yes!” I declared, grabbed him by the arm, and took off after the footman.
“It’s just as well you’re not wearing a pencil skirt this time,” he commented, as he jogged to keep up. “I’ve yet to see a stapler in this place.”
I rolled my eyes tolerantly.
“I wouldn’t wear a pencil skirt to a formal dinner, anyway,” I replied.
If I was wearing one of my fitted evening gowns, I wouldn’t be running like this, either! In my crimson dress with the full, knee length skirt however, I had no problem.
“You can slow down a little, honey,” Miles suggested, and ensured it by slowing down himself. “Solemn Guys walk solemnly, remember? Hurrying is most likely on the rulebook’s don’t list.”
I laughed at that. I also saw the footman up ahead.
“Pardon me,” Miles said as we fell into step, and the footman turned to look at us. Miles held up the envelope. “Do you recall who asked you to deliver this?”
“Of course, sir,” the footman replied. “It was one of the other guests, though I’m afraid I don’t know the name.”
“How about a description?” I asked, as my heart pounded with suppressed excitement.
“Dark hair, rather shiny, with a bit of a mustache,” the footman replied.
“Alright, thank you,” Miles replied calmly, which was not how I felt!
“May I be of any further assistance, sir?” the footman asked.
“Yes,” Miles said, referring to the note. “Where might we find Lady Carlisle’s office?”
“Have you the room number, floor, and wing, sir?” the footman asked in concern, as he scanned the note Miles held within view.
“No, I haven’t,” Miles replied.
“I’m sorry then, sir,” the footman said in chagrin. “I’m afraid I don’t know, but one of the regulars would.”
“You’re just here for the ball,” I understood.
“That’s right, miss,” the footman responded. “The fellow manning the door has worked here some time. I’ve no doubt he would know.”
“Very good,” Miles said. “It’s Edward on duty, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir,” the footman replied. “He’ll be down the hall, in the lobby. I’d be pleased to take you there.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Miles said. “We know our way from here.”
“Very good, sir,” the footman nodded.
“You’ve been a big help,” I quickly added. “I’m Anika, and this is Miles. But of course you already knew that. And you are…”
“The name’s Nathaniel,” he replied in surprise, then cast a swift glance about the corridor. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, but if it’s all the same…”
“Unless it’s for a very good cause,” I said, such as proving the identity of the note’s sender, and it’s contents, “we’ll act like we never met.”
“Very good then,” Nathaniel smiled briefly, and continued on his way.
We slowed our steps to give him a chance to get ahead or turn a corner, which he did, and finally we were alone again.
“Curiouser, and curiouser,” Miles commented quietly.
“No kidding!” I replied softly. “The chances of Lady Carlisle using Delacroix to deliver a note to a footman, to deliver to us, is about as improbable as her leaving her office doors unlocked.”
“Agreed. I don’t believe it’s coincidence that he chose a temporary footman to deliver it, either.”
“He couldn’t identify Delacroix by name,” I agreed. “But you immediately tracked him down and got a description, and only one person fits.”
“Delacroix should’ve shaved off that mustache beforehand,” Miles tsked. “He’d stand a better chance of blending in.”
“He should shave it off, period,” I shuddered. Miles laughed, but I wasn’t kidding! “He looks like the dad on the Addams Family.”
“So that’s why he seems vaguely familiar,” Miles smiled.
“That, and he’s an opportunist,” I replied. “He’s waiting for the legal right to develop Grieve Castle, though I’ve no idea how he intends to get it.”
I briefly filled Miles in on what little I lea
rned at dinner. He was as puzzled by it, as I was.
“I wonder what the definition of develop is, in this context,” Miles commented.
“He wants to develop it similarly to the way Ashley envisioned expanding the manor’s offerings,” I answered. “But he doesn’t have the legal right, yet.”
“Is he planning to have the Countess committed? Although that wouldn’t be likely to help him any. He isn’t a Grieve, he’s her mother’s cousin. I don’t see how adding Edmund to the mix would make his goal any easier.”
“Exactly, so we’re missing something,” I said, then put further conversation on hold as we reached the entryway, and Miles got the wing, floor, and room number for Lady Carlisle’s office from Edward. Miles also made sure he saw the note. Whatever happened, our bases were covered.
“What’s our plan, exactly?” I questioned, as we turned back the way we came, and followed the directions supplied by Edward.
“First, we knock,” Miles replied. “If there’s no answer, then we surveil. For a while. I haven’t forgotten the time, or our need for sleep. Still, I’m willing to devote a few minutes to finding out who, if anyone, shows up at Lady Carlisle’s office.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “I couldn’t sleep now, anyway! I’m too curious.”
“Then I wouldn’t either, so that’s what we’ll do.”
Our route took us past Ashley’s office, and down the next hall to an imposing, heavily carved wooden door. We waited several seconds for a response to Miles’ knock, but there was none.
Footsteps sounded in the next corridor. It took more than one set, to make the sharp rhythmic tap of heels against the wood floor, and the heavier thump that accompanied them.
Miles squeezed my arm and motioned, so I followed him through the nearest doorway, around the wall, and onto the small couch beside it. Two table lamps glowed softly, and in their light, I took a quick inventory of the small sitting room in which we found ourselves.
It was quick indeed, because the footsteps were in the corridor outside, and approaching purposefully. I wasn’t sure why we weren’t out in the hall waiting to meet them, but Miles did. Because this was his idea! So I sat silently, and waited to follow his lead. He glanced at me and tapped his ear, before settling back with his arm around me. So… listen. I could do that.
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