by Beth Byers
Vi paused as she wiped her hand on her dress. That was awfully warm wine.
A sense of horror hit her as she recognized that copper scent combined with the scent of gin. Gin—not ginger wine. Yes. That was a scent she knew and never wanted to smell again.
She took a breath and held it, filled with horror and the need to scrub her hands on her dress over and over again. Her skin crawled as she moved away from the…by Jove! Her breath left her in a rush. It must be. It must be. She pushed to her feet and hurried to the wall, finding the light switch. The moment the light was on, she took in a slow, horrified breath.
Too many bodies haunted her dreams. Too many unseeing eyes. But—oh goodness. She had to look, didn’t she? Violet glanced down and saw the streak of blood on her dress. She slowly turned her hands over and found one smeared. She closed her eyes and hurried out of the room.
Coward? Perhaps. But she didn’t need to have more fodder for those sleep-ruining dreams. Violet ran through the quiet halls towards the library where her father tended to read late and snooze by the fire until his man came for him and prompted him to bed.
Father and Jack were drinking by the fire, quietly talking when Violet burst into the room.
“Violet!” Father said, taking in the blood.
Jack said nothing as he crossed to her. He took her in and demanded. “Where is it?”
“The parlor.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t look. I tripped over it, in the dark, and I didn’t want to add it to my…” She trailed off, but he seemed to understand. He’d learn with even greater detail when they were finally married and her dreams woke him up. Poor young Mr. Allen in the water. Poor strangled Harriet and always, always Aunt Agatha. The horrible Danvers. It was too much for one girl to carry around in her head. Vi didn’t need to see their bodies for her mind to translate those who had been murdered to someone who had dead, staring eyes.
Violet knew that it didn’t compare to what others had experienced. So many of the people in her life had been through the war personally rather than the comfort of home and schools, but even still—
Violet shrugged off her bad thoughts as Father and Jack hurried to the parlor, leaving her behind in the library. She glanced around at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the leather chairs, the crackling fire, and she shuddered. Tears were burning in her eyes, and she wanted Jack. He, however, couldn’t take care of her and whomever was dead at the same time, so Victor would have to do.
Violet left the library and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. This floor and wing was only her friends and family. She banged on the first door and found Denny and Lila had that bedroom. It wasn’t that she didn’t know where Victor was—it was that she wasn’t thinking at all.
Denny took her in. “Are we burying the body, darling, or has someone else committed the crime?”
Violet blinked stupidly. “Someone else.”
“Ah, still in shock?” he asked. The humour fled as he started to connect that the blood on Violet’s dress was someone’s life blood. His voice shook a little as he asked, “Are they dead?”
Violet nodded. “I…I was looking for Victor.” She just hadn’t…it was just…oh goodness, she’d fallen over a body. Someone had died, and she’d tripped and landed in the blood. What if they hadn’t died? What if whoever that was had needed help? What if she’d made it worse? Why had she run? She knew, of course, it was the dreams that had turned her into a coward.
“Let’s get you to the bath,” Lila said gently from behind Denny. “Darling, find Violet some ginger wine.”
“No!” Vi shook her head frantically. “I tripped over the body. I spilled it everywhere. Oh, my goodness. The smell. Gin, blood, and ginger wine.” Violet shivered and let Lila lead her away while Denny went for Victor. “Maybe—ah—dare I say just tea?”
Lila shuddered but called for tea. Violet moved without thought, allowing Lila to lead her to her room, draw a bath and wash her hands while it filled, and then help her settle into the hot water.
Violet could not stop reliving finding the body. She was babbling, she was sure, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
Lila shoved Vi’s head under the water. She came up sputtering and coughing. Beatrice had arrived with the tea and said, “Oh my lady. Are you all right?”
Violet was too busy coughing to answer. “She’s fine.” Lila unsympathetically handed Violet a cup of whisky and made her swallow it down quickly.
Vi gasped against the burn and then wiped the water out of her face.
“Are you done being feminine and weak?”
“No. Maybe. Stop it. I am feminine.” Violet sniffed and shuddered into her bath and whisky. “It’s awful, Lila. Do you know how often I dream of the dead bodies? Of the staring eyes? Of the murderer in the shadows?”
Lila took a seat on the edge of the bath and flicked some of the bubbles towards Violet. “I imagine quite often, darling. I suspect you’ll have to firm up, however. You’re marrying a man who’s quite good at solving crimes. I don’t suppose you’ll avoid this—”
Kate opened the door to the bath, cutting off Lila, and took in the sight of Vi in the bath holding the teacup of whisky. She glanced back out of the door. “She seems okay, Victor. At least Lila is pouring a drink down her throat anyway. Maybe go and get her some ginger wine?”
“Not ginger wine,” Vi said. “You can’t go to the bar cart. It’s…that’s…I was getting some ginger wine in the dark, so I didn’t end up trapped by any of the money-grubbers, and…I tripped.”
Kate left the door cracked so Victor could talk to her and crossed to the sink. She handed Violet her cold cream and a washcloth before taking the tea and giving it to Lila. Kate pressed a gentle hand on the top of Violet’s head. “Your mascara is running, darling.”
“Vi,” Victor said on the other side of the door, “are you saying that someone murdered a fellow by the bar? The bar? By Jove! Why there? Of all places? My heavens—”
Her voice choked in her throat for a moment as she felt the warmth of the blood on her hands again, remembering that moment of looking down at her dress and discovering it stained in red. That fresh horror of realizing she hadn’t tripped over a misplaced pillow or wrinkle in the carpet, but she’d tripped over a body.
Lila watched Violet with a twisted mouth. “You were bloody, Vi. Drain the bath and scrub down again.”
Violet shuddered and obeyed while Kate joined Victor in Vi’s bedroom. They’d called Beatrice for more tea and Giles for some of Victor’s private stash of alcohol, and Violet listened to her brother with his beloved while she scrubbed her body again. All signs of blood were gone, but the sheer idea of it made her skin crawl. She finished rescrubbing her body and simply dumped water over her body rather than sitting in the remnants again. When she was rinsed clean, Violet took the towel from Lila, who had gathered clothes for her.
Lila handed over undergarments and Violet slipped them on, topping with a nightgown and then a kimono that fell to her feet. She shivered as she stared at her friend.
“That was horrible.” Violet pressed her lips together and met Lila’s gaze in the mirror. “A part of me wishes I looked to see who it was. I can’t let it go, not knowing who died. What if—I should have at least looked.”
“At least it wasn’t one of us,” Lila said. “I suppose we all hope it was one of your disappointed fortune hunters. They weren’t happy after you and Jack disappeared into the grounds. The Rosens brother, Kyle, and his sister had a hissed fight that sounded like snakes. They were interrupted only by the snide comments of both Nelson men to your stepmother as well as an argument between those siblings. I think even Victor was happy when Theodophilus arrived just to break up the scene.”
“What did Victor say to Theo?” Violet asked as she was stepping back into her bedroom.
Her twin answered the question. “I told him we’d speak in the morning.”
“It was clearly a threat,” Kate interjected.
“And w
hat did young Theo say?” Vi asked.
“He gritted his bruised jaw,” Kate answered, “and then ignored Victor, making rather effusive comments about the generosity of your stepmother. It was nauseating. Theo complimented her on anything that could possibly be worked into a quick conversation. I think Theo was hoping that your stepmother would keep Victor from getting him tossed from the house.”
Victor snorted.
“Vic.” Violet scrubbed her hands over her face. “I have to know who it was.”
He nodded and rose. Before he left her room, he filled several teacups with whisky and a splash of tea, handed them round the room, and pressed a kiss on both Kate and Lila’s foreheads.
“This isn’t fair,” Denny said from the hall.
“Oh stop whining, laddie, and go get us some of your chocolate.” Lila grinned at her husband. “Then make yourself useful for once and help Victor find out who died before Violet runs through the house in her kimono and sends her stepmother into a rage.”
Chapter Nine
“Can we do the thing?” Denny asked as he and Victor returned. “We need a chalkboard. Make the list of names and say why they were the killer. That’s my favourite. Let’s talk about why everyone here is the killer.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “You just like gossiping about everyone’s secrets.”
“Too true, my love,” Denny said merrily.
“It might help,” Kate cut in reasonably, “if we knew who died. It’s torturing Violet.”
“It was the younger Nelson,” Victor said. “I didn’t care to catch his name. Melvin? Melbert?”
“Melrose.” Kate shook her head, not believing Victor for a moment.
“We probably shouldn’t make light.” Violet shivered. Having a name to go with the blood that had been on her body wasn’t making it easier. “I— Oh—what’s happening?”
“Father called the local boys,” Victor said. “They’ll want to talk to you. It seems he was just killed, so…”
Violet blinked, nibbling on her bottom lip and pulling her kimono tighter as though it could somehow shield her. She took a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She knew that she wasn’t quite right since she’d found the body. Perhaps a doctor would say she was in shock. Did others become used to finding bodies? To seeing the crimes humans enacted on each other? Violet shuddered again at the idea and knew that she never wanted the time to come when she fell over a body and landed in blood and just shook off the effects.
“Vi’s a suspect?” Lila’s wry voice broke through Violet’s haze. “I expect Jack won’t let that stand for long.”
“If his reply to the local constable had any effect, I’d guess that the boy is quavering in his boots. He might have stuck to his opinion—based on that article—if your father had let it go—” Denny grinned mischievously and then cackled, rubbing his hands together. “I do like your dear old dad, Vi. He scared that poor constable into wetting himself, I think.”
“Darling, only you would be delighted by someone losing control of their bladder or the mere idea of such an event.” Lila held out her hand until Denny frowned, removing a small box of chocolates from his inner coat pocket. “Of course you brought one of the small boxes.”
“Violet will only eat half a chocolate,” Denny muttered. “She’ll eat half of it, stare off into the distance, and start weaving clues together like Watson.”
“Holmes,” Kate corrected. She glanced at Violet as Lila handed the box to Violet.
“Whoever,” Denny finished.
Violet wanted to smile as she watched them banter. She felt like she was being haunted by Melrose Nelson. The image of him talking down to them all about the cocktails. The way his eyes had lit on her with avarice. The echo of tripping over his body with the feel of his blood on her. By Jove! Why the blood? Was she cursed? Violet wasn’t sure she believed in such things, but she felt as though her life might be a reason to believe in the supernatural. What else could explain her bad luck?
“Our suspects—” Denny started.
“Let Vi catch her breath. She’s still seeing whatever she saw.” Lila’s head tilted. “What did you see, Vi?”
Violet drew a shaking breath. “I didn’t want to get caught by the fortune hunters. Jack had gone off to find Father and bond or—whatever you boys do when you get alone.”
“He was throwing himself at your father’s feet and letting himself be cross-examined. Fathers like to terrorize the beloveds of their daughters. That is one of life’s many cruelties.” Denny feigned a shiver. “I was too weak for such things and having just seen your father in action, Vi— Jack must actually love you and not your money.”
Lila rolled her eyes at Denny again and smacked his arm. “Jack has money enough. His friends are simply quieter about it. We’ve gone blathering about Vi’s money and now it’s of epic amounts. Sonnet-worthy, even.”
“It was always epic even before you started blathering about it.” Victor lazily took a seat near the fire and pulled Kate onto the side of his chair. “It’s why there were so many who might have killed dear Aggie over her hoard of the green.”
“Hoard? My goodness, Victor.” Violet scowled at him. “Terms like that are what make fools like Theodophilus believe that your fists are worth the risk of the inheritance. The gossip over it might as well be pirate gold.” Violet took a bite of one of the chocolates and set it on her tea saucer. She watched Denny out of the corner of her eye and hid a smirk. Teasing him was making her feel better than anything else. Violet took a seat on the end of her bed, wishing Jack were there to answer all of her questions. “How did he die?”
Victor cleared his throat, examining her with a gaze that knew her too well. “He was stabbed.”
“With?”
“The ice pick. I don’t see why the killer had to involve the bar at all. They used that new gin I bought and drowned the body in it. What was the purpose of that?”
Violet took another sip of her tea to hide her reaction. “Why the gin? Just angry about the comment about cocktails?”
“It’s a waste of good gin,” Victor said. “I—suppose it makes me callous, but I am angry that someone used one of my favourite things to snuff out the fellow. I’m not sure, do I have a moment of silence every time I open a bottle of gin? Do I think about what you can do with an ice pick? I don’t want to be entirely unfeeling, but I think I might be.”
Violet moved from her spot on the bed to the other side of Victor’s chair, perching on the armrest nearer the fire. “It’s okay to still love making drinks for people, Victor. It’s your way of showing you care.”
He blinked stupidly up at her, and she patted the top of his head.
“Darling.” Violet met Kate’s gaze, who was laughing quietly at the dumbfounded expression on Victor’s face. “You make drinks for the people you love; you put effort into finding what they like and learning ways to put the ingredients together to make them happy. It’s why I got coffee and chocolate tonight. Don’t be slow, dear one. If you were a nanny in the nursery, you’d be stuffing your little ones with sweets and jellies.”
Victor nudged Violet, nearly pushing her off of her perch, but grabbed her arm before she could fall. “I suppose you are right. About the cocktails, of course, not being a nanny. I’d be hiding in the corner from the children, hoping they didn’t track me down and torment me.”
Kate grinned at Violet. “He means that he adores you.”
“I suppose he’s all right,” Violet told Kate.
“That,” Kate said, running her fingers through the hair at the base of Victor’s neck, “means she loves you too.”
“Even if you are the lesser twin,” Denny finished. “We really would be better off staying somewhere else. We need a room for gathering to discover the killer. Take our notes. You know. All that fun stuff.”
Lila laughed, taking one of her husband’s beloved chocolates. “Do you think you’ll be of help?”
“I’ll be like the Greek chorus. I’ll provide
warning and atmosphere.”
“Did he just make a literary reference?” Kate’s lips twitched as she glanced at the others. Her gaze returned to Violet, and those pretty eyes widened with concern on Vi’s face.
Violet supposed she must still be too pale and not quite back to herself given the way everyone was treating her with kid gloves, except for Denny.
“So what happened after you determined not to get caught by the money-grubbers?” Denny asked. “How did you go from deciding to be sneakily flitting around the drawing room for wine to finding a body?”
Violet started to answer and found that Jack and a uniformed constable were in the doorway. With them was a man in a brown suit and official looking demeanor. Violet wondered why she’d left her bedroom door open and why everyone felt free to approach her room like this. The way the brown suit was examining her, she felt certain that it wasn’t only the constable who had heard of Violet and made suppositions about her character.
“A question for which I also need an answer,” the man in the brown suit said. “I am Inspector Wright.”
“Lady Violet Carlyle,” Victor announced for Vi. She glanced down at herself. The kimono did cover her entirely and wasn’t terribly inappropriate. “I am her twin, Victor Carlyle.”
“Perhaps I might have a few minutes?”
“No,” Victor and Jack both answered.
“Not alone,” Victor finished. There was a bit of—not quite tension—between the two men. They were both inclined to be protective of Violet.
“Did you want your father?” Inspector Wright looked between the two men. Violet wasn’t sure if he was choosing the earl over the dueling brother and lover because it seemed easier, but the earl would hardly be a better choice. The constable winced from behind the inspector. Ah, that must be the fellow who had made inferences about Violet’s character and already been educated by her father. Violet shrugged, standing and crossing to the end of the bed where a pair of shoes were ready to slip onto her feet.
“I’ll need a few moments to dress,” Violet said as she glanced down at herself again. The inspector blushed, but really, he should have sent for Violet and not come for her himself. She guessed the reason he’d come was so that Jack couldn’t coach her with answers.