The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Boxset 1

by Beth Byers

  Violet and Victor glanced at each other but said nothing.

  Their father’s expression went from quizzical to understanding and a rare flash of anger passed over his face.

  “Ah, well.” Father cleared his throat as he regained control. “Ring the bell, little one. Let’s have some tea.”

  Earl grey, custard buttons, and a little almond gingerbread, which they mostly just nibbled at, later, and Father said, “Yes. Take her to Belgium or wherever else she wants to go. Does she know what she wants after this trip of yours?”

  “I think it would be good for her to go to college. Perhaps spend a little time spreading her wings before another marriage could be considered,” Violet said idly, putting another slice of gingerbread on her father’s plate and refilling his tea.

  He grunted. “I’ll have my man see about getting her into college.”

  The awkward silence after that statement was filled with Violet discussing the weather and Victor the outcome of a recent horse race.

  Finally, Violet decided to set aside the manners that had been ground into her and asked, “Father, if Danvers’s investment scheme is a sham, will Markus or Norman Kennington lose their shirts?”

  Father started and the scolding look he gave her would have shriveled her if there hadn’t been a murder on the line.

  “Father,” Victor said, “were you aware that Violet reasoned out who killed Aunt Agatha?”

  Father harrumphed. “Course I did. Now you think it was one of the Kennington men that did in Danvers?”

  Violet carefully licked her lips and admitted, “Papa, it seems certain that the investment scheme was just that. Those who put their money in won’t be getting it back.”

  His brows rose at that. “Invested m’self. Heard from Markus that it was a sure thing. Must be what they’ve been having a fizz about.”

  “Has there been a ruckus here?”

  Father nodded. “Likely why Markus and Norman or their wives haven’t appeared. Those wives of theirs have been in bed nearly as much as Eleanor. Was thinking that they were making a big thing out of our scandal. Seems they have their own crosses to bear.” He hummed under his breath and said, “Think I’ll take your mother to Paris. Good time to be traveling for all of us. Can’t imagine you’d want these old ones about.”

  “Father, the trip to America on those steamships is said to be quite agreeable. Victor and I have heard it from a few friends. New York City has got much to offer, and I was just reading an article about Cuba. You might like that too.”

  Father harrumphed again. “You getting involved in this case, too?”

  Violet and Victor glanced at each other.

  “It is an interesting puzzle, isn’t it?” Victor mused. “Who realized their money was gone forever? Who felt it was worth killing over? Perhaps Danvers was the engineer of some other crime we know nothing of.”

  Father took the last piece of gingerbread and ate half of it in one bite before speaking. “I can’t imagine it was Markus or Donald.”

  “Because you’ve known them so long?”

  Father shook his head. “They might have invested all of their ready money, but they have even more money wrapped up tight. Income from their estates. They, both of them, might have been hard hit. But enough to murder Danvers? Besides, Norman has a blood problem.”

  “Problem?” Violet asked and smiled as her father smirked for a moment.

  “Can’t abide the sight of it. Makes him quite sick. Seen him go down myself. Like a tree. One moment standing. Next flat out on the ground.”

  Victor chuckled, but Violet couldn’t help but remember what she’d seen. The pool of blood. The flop of glued together hair. The lifeless hand. The…don’t think of it, she told herself, and somehow her thoughts conveyed the command in Jack’s voice.

  “Changes the whole perspective, doesn’t it?” her father continued. “I heard from your mother that you’ve been seeing a Scotland Yard fellow. Was it one of the ones who came here?”

  “Yes sir. I met Jack Wakefield at Aunt Agatha’s.” Vi’s heart was in her throat as she waited for Father’s opinion.

  “James Wakefield is a friend of mine. Not like Markus, of course. Wakefield’s a good man. His son seems quite sharp.”

  “He was in the military police,” Victor told Father. “He doesn’t have to work, of course, but the Yard calls Jack in here and there when there’s a case that seems appropriate to his skills.”

  “Probably our types,” Father replied. His sniffed and said, “Rich, titled, gentry folks. You come with questions and an Oxford education, connections to your family, memberships at the same club. Ain’t so easy to lean back on your laurels, then, is it?”

  Violet was breathing a little easier as she realized her father didn’t object. She took in a bit of a shuddering breath and elbowed Victor when he smirked. Father caught the byplay and smiled at the two of them.

  “You two always were the same. Troublesome from day one. Squalling for weeks and weeks. Once you could walk…madness. As soon as you could open doors, well, we lost more than one nanny, I’ll tell you. Your mother, Belinda, she used to laugh and laugh. Said you spoke on another level. Loved everything about that.”

  Father looked sorrowful. “Neither one of you spoke for a few weeks after we lost her. You didn’t start talking until Agatha came. She scooped you up. Took you for a ride in her carriage. When you came back, you weren’t better. Not for a while yet. But you answered when you were asked if you wanted a biscuit. Never could thank her enough after that.”

  Victor wrapped his arm around Violet, whose vision had gone blurry with the story of her mother.

  “I wish I could have known her,” Vi admitted.

  “You’re very like her,” Father said and then abruptly rose. “Think I’ll go tell my man to pack my things. Need to be careful, Vi, if you’re going to nose about in this business. Can’t imagine whoever the murderer is would take kindly to you sticking your oar in.”

  Father left, and Victor and Violet waited. Should they further stick their oar in, as Father put it?

  “We came all this way,” Victor said, knowing her thoughts, “so we might as well go ahead and talk to Markus. He must be around, mustn’t he?”

  Violet wasn’t sure, but they rang the bell to have the tea things taken away and inquired after the homeowner. He was in his office, and they brazenly knocked on his door and entered before he could turn them away.

  “Didn’t expect to see you two,” he said, carefully closing the file on his desk and gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. “What it’s all about?”

  “Been discussing recent events.” Victor took a seat. “Were you aware Danvers tried to force his way into our finances? He attempted to tell our man of business that we had said to join in the scheme.”

  Kennington’s brows rose and two small circles of red appeared on his cheeks, but he said nothing.

  Violet smiled brightly and reminded herself that they all assumed she was an idiot, being both younger and female. “Mr. Fredericks, isn’t he just brilliant, Vic?”

  Victor gave her a side-eyed mocking look but agreed. “He is quite brilliant. Refused point-blank to invest without our express permission. Then, he looked into matters as he might have if we’d asked him about it.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Well, you invested, didn’t you?” Victor said smoothly, with an arched brow. “You invested, and you allowed Danvers to become engaged to your niece despite the clear imbalance of the situation. You and Lady Eleanor bought the whole charade.”

  The two circles of red had slowly spread across Markus’s cheeks and his gaze narrowed threateningly on Victor.

  “Then you attacked him with Gulliver outside of the house on the wedding day. Was that when you realized it was all a sham?”

  “Are you the blighters who set the Yard on me?” Kennington demanded. “With these starts at hares? Faradiddles and nonsense!”

  “It’s hard
ly starting at a hare to know that someone invested money in a fraudulent scheme and was seen assaulting the victim.” Victor’s voice was smooth and even, but very imperious. It was clear who was the earl’s son and who was not.

  Violet crossed her ankles and told herself to leave it to Victor. With Markus, she would get nowhere.

  “Were you also aware of his lover? Did you know that he made her promises and left her with a growing bundle?”

  The way fury rolled down Kennington’s neck, turning his ears to a brilliant red, told Violet that he was aware of Helen’s existence at the least. Violet hadn’t had feelings towards him one way or the other before this, but she would never respect him again.

  “I knew that things had gone farther between the chit and Danvers than most knew. Farther than Mathers knew. Who do you really think had cause to kill him? Me? I’m not ruined. Or that girl’s father and long-time friend? Get out of here. Take your accusations with you and don’t come back until I have abject apologies from the both of you.”

  Violet rose and pulled Victor up with her. Anything he said to them wouldn’t be reliable.

  Just as Victor reached to open the door, Markus said, “Your father invested. Gulliver. Higgins. Not just me. Don't forget that son of his. Hugo hated his father as much as you two hate Eleanor.”

  Violet turned at that. “I don’t hate Eleanor. Neither of us do.”

  Markus’s scoff-filled laugh told her what he thought of the statement. She wouldn’t defend it to him. Not any more than he’d defend himself to her. They were done here.

  Chapter 15

  “We came all this way,” Violet said. “You see if Norman is still here and if you cut yourself in his presence, see if he really faints. I’m going to face the dragon.”

  Victor winced for Violet, who took a deep breath and then hurried up the stairs to her stepmother’s room. It was the same room she’d had before she’d married. The wall outside the door showed Eleanor as she had been then, with her blue eyes, golden hair and figure that hadn’t been marred by carrying two children. Her lips were pink, and she was smiling at something that only she could see.

  She looked lovely. Not just on the exterior, but on the interior. Violet wished she’d known this version of her stepmother rather than the one who had always seen Vi and Victor as competition for her own offspring. Surely Father had love enough for them all? But Eleanor had always been jealous of whatever affection Father had had for the twins, She was the type to do her duty when it came to the twins, but she was quick to push them to school and their holidays with Aunt Agatha.

  Violet tapped on the door of her stepmother’s room and reminded herself of all the good things. She had tried to encourage them into security. She truly did feel that marriage was the best choice for a woman and had never tried to push Violet into the mess that had landed Isolde. Why had Eleanor let it come to that with Isolde?

  “Yes?”

  Violet opened the door enough to stick her head in. “Hullo there, I was hoping you felt well enough for me to stop in?”

  Eleanor scowled at Violet. “I suppose you’ve come to gloat? You were right about Carlton. I was wrong.”

  It took Violet a moment to remember that Carlton was Danvers’s first name.

  “No, of course not,” Violet told her gently, keeping the good memories at the forefront of her mind. “I’ve always known that you saw marriage as the best for Isolde and myself. Mr. Danvers presented security for her.”

  Lady Eleanor sniffled into a lace handkerchief. “He did. I was just doing my best. How was I supposed to know he was a bounder?”

  Violet refrained from pointing out that she’d also disregarded the objections of her husband, her eldest stepson, and her daughter all to see Isolde married to a man who seemed to be wealthy. Money before all else.

  “Father has decided that Isolde would do well to keep close to Victor’s house and then spend some time overseas. We’ve selected Bruges since it will be an out-of-the-way place to let things die down.”

  Lady Eleanor sniffled again. “Will you be bringing any of your friends? Isn’t Victor quite good friends with that St. Marks heir? He might do well for Isolde.”

  Violet turned to close the door and hide her expression. Firstly, Tomas was in love with Violet. Secondly, he was still recovering from the horrors of the war. Thirdly, he was astoundingly wealthy. All Lady Eleanor would care about was, of course, the wealth. At least he was only a couple years older than the twins rather than decades older than Isolde.

  Violet smiled a reply since she couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t set off her stepmother. Vi seated herself in the chair next to the bed, noted the teapot and refilled a cup for her stepmother, then rang the bell for a fresh pot.

  By the time she escaped Kennington House, she’d be swimming in tea, but Lady Eleanor was always more likely to gossip over tea. Violet thought it might just be muscle memory since many a morning, Lady Eleanor was usually doing just that with her friends.

  Vi ordered tea from the maid who arrived.

  “You do look peaked, Lady Eleanor,” Violet said. “Perhaps Victor and I can hunt up some favorite chocolates? Those would cheer you, wouldn’t they?”

  Lady Eleanor softened at the idea of it and mentioned a few favorites. “Is my Isolde recovering well? The poor thing. To lose her betrothed on her wedding day!”

  Ah, Violet thought, they were going to ignore the decision to call off the wedding. For the best, perhaps, given the results of the day.

  “She is quite upset,” Violet said. “She had to take a sleeping pill to rest after she had a good cry yesterday.”

  “She must be asking for me,” Lady Eleanor said, and Violet nodded fervently.

  “Nothing helps like the touch and care of a mother,” Vi agreed, “but she knows Papa wants her out of the house, away from the scene, and tucked up tight. Victor’s house is quite nice, you know. Large and well-appointed.”

  Lady Eleanor let Vi change the subject to the number of rooms, the size of the garden, the likelihood of rain. When Lady Eleanor seemed in quite a good mood, Violet asked, “Did Hugo Danvers bother Isolde before?”

  Lady Eleanor frowned at the question. “Why would he?”

  “He came by to see how Isolde was doing,” Violet told her.

  “Quite properly,” Lady Eleanor stated firmly.

  “He seemed to be…enchanted by her.”

  Lady Eleanor’s instinctive reaction to assume Violet was incorrect seemed to fight with her desire to have her daughter acknowledged as the most lovely and enchanting of young ladies. Finally, she said, “He did seem to spend quite a lot of time with his father and Carlton’s friends. You know, he didn’t work with his father. I always thought that was odd. Here was Carlton with his successful business and Hugo insisted on going his own way.”

  Violet took a sip of her tea and made sure to cock her head inquisitively as Lady Eleanor brought up the sons who took after their fathers and worked the family business and estates. She seemed to have adjusted the past to ignore the fact that Danvers had been a fraud.

  Violet let Lady Eleanor carry on about one of her friend’s sons who insisted on pursuing the church even though such a course was no longer in fashion.

  “It isn’t 1804, now is it?” Lady Eleanor laughed into her handkerchief at the expense of the homely Cecil Brown, who had returned from the war changed.

  Violet’s thoughts regarding everything Lady Eleanor had said wouldn’t have helped the situation, so she listened without a word.

  When Lady Eleanor paused, Violet asked, “Did you know Helen Mathers?”

  “The daughter of the assistant?” Lady Eleanor’s hands pressed together tightly, fingers digging into her flesh, and Violet could see her stepmother had known exactly who Helen had been to Danvers.

  Violet didn’t press further on their relationship and simply said, “I understand she’s fallen ill. Her father has taken her out of town.”

  “The girl needs to be
reined in. Hopefully, he will see to it. Wild. This is what comes of letting young ladies think they’re as capable as young men.”

  Violet snapped her mouth shut and refilled Lady Eleanor’s cup before fluffing the pillows behind her. “What does Hugo Danvers do for a living?” Violet asked.

  “I don’t know, actually,” Lady Eleanor said. “Carlton and Hugo spent enough time together, but there didn’t seem to be love lost between them. Perhaps Hugo just lived off of his father. They were sneaky about the way they felt. You had to be paying attention. Isolde…” Lady Eleanor’s comment cut off, and Violet suddenly wondered if her stepmother knew that Hugo had feelings for Isolde.

  Had Vi’s sister turned to her mother for help in dealing with Hugo? If so…then Lady Eleanor had failed again.

  “I don’t care for him,” Vi said.

  “You have been remarkably pleasant this afternoon, Vi. But I think I will nap. Your father states we must leave tomorrow and I must gather my strength.”

  “Of course.” Violet pressed her stepmother’s hand and rose to go.

  “Just a word to the wise, dear,” Lady Eleanor said, stopping Violet before she was more than a step or two from the bed. “Your father has heard of the flirtation between yourself and the Scotland Yard detective.”

  Violet’s head cocked and she asked, “Oh?”

  “He disapproves heartily.”

  Violet’s mouth twisted and she said, “Thank you for letting me know.”

  Lady Eleanor sipped her tea and then set it on the table next to her bed before she asked, “So you’ll be ending things, I assume.”

  Violet played with the ring on her finger. “Well, no. I like him very much. We are in the early days, and he may well lose interest when Victor and I leave for Bruges with Isolde, but I suspect that should he call again, I would be very amiably inclined to join him for dancing, indeed.”

  “Your father will hear of this,” Lady Eleanor threatened.

  “We have already spoken of it,” Violet said simply and left so she didn’t have to be there when her stepmother realized she’d been caught in a lie. Violet had never seen the way she used Father as a stick to prod the children along where she wanted them to go, but she suspected that she’d been the victim a time or two.