Gin & Murder

by Beth Byers

  Celia scoffed. “He doesn’t want you to leave him. He wants your money. I’ve heard that rumor that he has money of his own, but if he gets yours, he’ll still be able to prose on about how he won. It’ll be points in the games that men play with each other.”

  “My money is pretty well and truly tied up. Jack won’t benefit all that much from what I have.”

  “To other men, it will seem like he does. It’s about the look of it, isn’t it? Who won? Who gets your virtue? Who gets you to believe their lies?”

  Violet took a long breath in. “You can tell if they’re being straight with you by their fruits.”

  Celia blinked and then sputtered, “What?”

  “By their fruits, you shall know them. Do you understand?”

  “I had the love songs, the poems, the orchids. I had fruits, and they were all lies!”

  “I don’t know,” Violet told Celia. “I know Jack loves me because he’s protective, because he’s kind, because he listens, he reads the books that I love. He sometimes finds me infuriating, but he’s patient. He worries and then acts on those worries, so I’m safer. When he has a chance to choose between me and something else, he chooses me.”

  Celia’s mouth twisted, and her expression said that Violet was wrong.

  “My heart knows,” Violet said flatly, and it did. She had no doubts that Jack loved her and would love her even if she were penniless.

  “I thought my heart knew!”

  “I’m sorry.” Violet looked at the girl, the way her jaw was tight with fury, her eyes were flashing yet filled with tears. Her chest was heaving with pent up feelings. The poor, sad thing.

  “It’s not fair. I don’t think love is real at all. Maybe a mother loves her child. Anything else? It’s just a fairy story.”

  Violet rubbed the back of her neck. There was no talking Celia out of her theory, and Violet didn’t feel like the truth Celia needed to hear was that she break with the surviving brother.

  “You need to stay away from Leopold Nelson,” she said anyway.

  “I thought he loved me once,” Celia said. “I had no doubts. Maybe he did. Maybe it isn’t a fairy story.” She wiped a tear away and admitted, “I don’t want it to be all fairy tales and nonsense.”

  “Maybe he did love you. Maybe he realized what his brother was starting up again, and he thought—enough was enough. Maybe he killed his brother.”

  Celia gasped. “No. It must have been a tramp.”

  “A tramp?”

  “Some homeless person passing through who tried to break in. That’s far more reasonable than someone we know.”

  Perhaps, Vi thought, Celia was the victim of the cruel brother because she was out and out stupid. Violet squeezed Celia’s hand and stood.

  “My friend,” Violet told her, “no. Of course it wasn’t a tramp. The person who killed Melrose Nelson is someone staying in the house.”

  Celia gasped.

  “Someone you know. Someone you have had dinner with and whom you’ve associated with. Possibly even someone you thought you once loved.”

  “That can’t be true. They’re brothers.”

  “My cousin murdered our great-aunt for an increase in income. Isolde’s first betrothed was murdered by his own son. I’m not an expert in investigation like Jack is, but if I were going to guess on a killer, I would start my theories with family members.”

  Celia cried out, and Violet wanted to shake the girl. Celia truly was stupid. She was a target for the Nelson brothers because she was easily fooled. How many other women had they tried to play their games with and the woman had simply removed them from her life and moved on with those who were far more trustworthy?

  Violet took Celia’s hand. “There are good people in the world and bad people, and often others don’t react the way we think they will or the way that they should. We’re not characters on a page, and love isn’t only flowers and songs. Life can be quite messy.”

  Celia gaped and hurried away, saying over her shoulder, “You’re wrong.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack was a dark figure in the shadows of the house. Violet wasn’t sure that Celia had even noticed him. Violet knew, however, that it was an assumption she shouldn’t make. Celia had been forward thinking enough to steal a key and dig through the Nelson brothers’ rooms—if she could be trusted. If what Celia had said was true, the woman had motive for murder as clear and obvious as any motive Violet had ever seen.

  Violet crossed to Jack, who watched her come with an even expression. “Shall we elope?”

  Jack leaned down while he lifted her chin. “I love you, Violet, and if you think that I will not watch you walk down the aisle and take my name in front of everyone we know, you are very wrong.”

  His voice was so possessive that Violet shivered. She had to pause and compare her need for freedom to her absolute willingness to be Jack’s. Perhaps when you were possessive in return, it wasn’t stifling?

  Vi grinned at him, noting that strong jaw and those penetrating eyes. “Have you been thinking about the wedding day?”

  “Well…I’ve been thinking about a portion of the day.” His grin was wicked as he kissed her brow once more, and she shivered again. “So, let’s not let it get stolen from us by getting murdered along with Melrose.”

  She heard his simple scold and knew he needed—deserved—a reply. “I should have knocked on the door to get you before I followed Celia.”

  “True.” He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, and she felt him breathe her in.

  It was moments like this one, Violet thought, that made you believe in love. “They were playing a game. Those cruel brothers.” Violet pulled back to look at him. “They were competing with each other.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything. Most of all, however, for who could gather someone’s affections better. It sounded like it was usually women, but maybe it was anyone or anything. Celia mentioned their great aunt’s will, a woman’s virtue, protestations of love from fools like Celia.”

  “That’s a pretty strong motive for murder.” Jack’s words illustrated Violet’s opinion perfectly.

  “Maybe,” Vi said. “Celia. Perhaps Leopold. Perhaps Celia’s father or brother if they knew what the brothers had been doing to Celia. I could even see another victim with a reason for murder, along with anyone who might have loved a victim.”

  “You don’t think Celia was the killer?”

  “I can’t see her meeting him in the drawing room where anyone could have seen her and then stabbing him with an ice pick.”

  Jack tugged on Violet’s hand and they headed towards the house. “It was a bloody scene. I can’t see any woman having done that, but sometimes we don’t desire to see the truth in front of us.”

  Violet caught sight of her brother, Geoffrey, in the window watching her and Jack. He didn’t even pretend he wasn’t spying on them. She stared pointedly at him, and he shot her a smirk and dropped the curtain he’d pulled back.

  Violet glanced at Jack, but he was turned the other way. She wasn’t sure if she should point out her brother, but she decided against it. He was already a wart, and it would be better if Jack didn’t despise Violet’s little brother. She could despise him for the both of them.

  “I’m ready for some nosh, darling. Cook made an excellent dinner. How is she on breakfast?”

  They opened a side door into the house and walked towards the breakfast room.

  “What were you doing outside? It is very untoward to find you two sneaking around.” Lady Eleanor’s voice cut through the hall, and Jack and Violet turned to face her stepmother. “I don’t approve of your engagement, and I will do all in my power to stop this wedding.”

  Violet could feel Jack’s arm turned to stone.

  “There is no scenario,” Violet told her stepmother, “where I leave the money Aunt Agatha left me to Geoffrey.”

  Lady Eleanor blinked rapidly. She seemed to actually be speechless, which was a state Violet di
dn’t think possible.

  “Geoffrey was not related to Aunt Agatha,” Violet continued, “and she would not approve of leaving the money outside of her family unless I were leaving it to a charity.”

  “Once the money was willed, it became available for you to leave how you choose,” Lady Eleanor snapped.

  “The money is currently willed to Victor and a variety of charities,” Violet lied. It was partly willed to Isolde, but Lady Eleanor would never give up ruining things for Violet and Jack if that became common knowledge. “Once I have children, the money will be fully left to them.”

  Also a lie as Violet had every intention of leaving money to Victor’s children as well. Aunt Agatha never should have divided it un-evenly between them.

  “We’ll be married in April,” Violet told her stepmother, and Jack stilled even more so. She glanced up at him and then back to her stepmother, hoping he was happy with the date. “We’re going to have a big wedding, with a white dress and everybody we know. Come if you’d like. We’ll send you an invitation.”

  Lady Eleanor gaped as Violet turned to Jack. “I’m ready for the whole breakfast. Roasted tomatoes, fried bread, beans, eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, all of it. Then I think I’ll sleep off my breakfast.”

  “Maybe we should have a wedding breakfast after a morning wedding.” Jack suggested, his gaze almost hot on her face. He kissed her gently on the lips before tucking her hand on his elbow again.

  Violet grinned at Lady Eleanor’s gasp.

  “Are you ignoring me?” Lady Eleanor would have probably thumped her cane if she had one. “I do not approve of this wedding. Or, for that matter, your intent to overindulge on breakfast.”

  Vi laughed.

  Lady Eleanor, however, continued. “We have guests, and you have a responsibility to them.”

  “Are you referring to the gentlemen you invited to distract me from Jack? To ruin things between me and my love so that I could marry some poor but well-connected man?” Lady Eleanor paused and started to reply, but Violet lifted a hand. “I realize that you don’t approve of Jack. I don’t need you to approve of him. I realize that you don’t care for my behavior. Normally, I would say that you are absolutely right to find my behavior unacceptable. However, I find that I am ill-inclined to play nice with the gentlemen you brought to replace Jack.”

  She gasped, grabbing her throat in the shock. “You are the daughter of an earl! You can do better!”

  “You have the worst taste in gentlemen of anyone I have ever seen, and my best friend is married to the laziest man I know. He might be lazy, but he’s a good man. You can’t say that of most of the men you’ve thrown into my or Isolde’s lives.”

  “How dare you speak to me that way!”

  “Danvers was a criminal whose fortune was fake.”

  “Tomas is a good man.”

  “Victor and I sent Tomas to Isolde, knowing he’d love her. You had nothing to do with Tomas. You do, however, have quite a bit to do with the men here. Theodophilus Smythe-Hill manipulates idiots like Algernon into betting their fortunes. He blackmails them.”

  “He’s the nephew of a baron!”

  “His birth doesn’t matter! He’s as much of a criminal as Danvers!”

  “Algernon probably lied to you.”

  “Theodophilus tried to hurt me.”

  “You probably teased him.”

  Violet closed her eyes against the hurt. This—this—creature was what Vi could claim for a mother.

  “The Nelson brothers were playing games with Celia Rosens’s affections and countless others. Theodophilus, whether you want to believe it or not, is a blackguard. I’ll admit that Lord Devonsly is a good man, but he’s not for me. Jack is for me. Make your peace with it, or I’ll call Father down on you.”

  “Your father is on my side.”

  “Father gave Jack his blessing to ask for my hand,” Violet told her quietly.

  Lady Eleanor gasped.

  “The days of you manipulating myself, my twin, or Isolde is over. I won’t let you anymore.” Violet’s voice was calm and even. The emotion of their argument had faded and all that was left was a solemn promise.

  “How dare you speak to me that way!”

  “How dare you attempt to ruin my relationship with my love to marry me off to men who—what? Promised that they’d see Geoffrey was taken care of?”

  Lady Eleanor’s expression was all that Violet needed to confirm her guess.

  “Geoffrey is the son of an earl,” Violet said. “He’s not stupid. He’s being educated. He’ll receive an allowance and probably won’t have to work unless he wishes to live lavishly.”

  “He deserves better.”

  “Not from me,” Violet said, turning away from Lady Eleanor. “My hunger has faded,” she said to Jack.

  “It will return when you smell the bacon,” he said gently. After they had left Lady Eleanor’s quiet tears behind, Jack asked, “Are you all right?”

  Violet glanced up at him and admitted, “No. It’s not like she’s ever been a mother to me, but I don’t stop wanting to have one.”

  “Vi, you did in Agatha. You know you did.”

  She nodded and tried for a brave smile, though his expression told her she hadn’t succeeded. “I suppose I need to sleep a bit better. I feel like that was far more melodramatic than it would have been if I had slept well last night.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Violet had long since come to the conclusion that breakfast was not her favourite meal of the day. Her favourite meal of the day was tea. Cucumber sandwiches, bite-sized cakes, muffins, and tea. Glorious tea. Sometimes coffee. Occasionally, she and Victor decided upon champagne.

  This morning, however, after her night, her bad dreams, hearing Celia’s terrible tale, and arguing with her stepmother in the hall like some sort of fishwife—she had built up an appetite that queued into place as soon as she smelled the bacon.

  Violet loaded her plate of a size to rival Jack’s, and he laughed as she ate it. The main problem with breakfast was that they only had regular coffee instead of the Turkish coffee Violet enjoyed.

  She took a deep breath in and placed a hand over her stomach. It hurt a little but in the best way.

  Jack laughed at Violet’s groan. “We need to talk to the younger Rosens. Leopold as well.”

  She wanted to nap, and to be honest, she wanted Jack to nap with her. She wasn’t sure she could sleep alone, not with the scent of blood in her nose and the memory of falling over Melrose Nelson’s body in her mind. Though, Violet didn’t think he was much of napper.

  “What’s all this?” Denny demanded. “Lila is still sleeping. She says you cry while you sleep. That’s ruining my happy mood today, Vi. It’s murderer capturing day, Vi, and I hear you are weepy.”

  “You cry while you sleep?” Jack asked with a tone that made Violet flinch.

  Violet suddenly realized she should have told him about her problem. “Not all the time. Just after Jeremiah. And not every day.”

  “Where is everyone else?” she asked Denny.

  “We are, apparently, the only ones callous enough to want breakfast after someone was murdered.” Jack’s smooth, even voice still somehow conveyed a hint of rage.

  “Nah. Kate is sicking up. Victor is hovering. Beatrice too. Lila is sleeping off your bad dreams. Otherwise, they’d be callous enough too. Isolde and Tomas are probably escaping the madhouse in each other’s eyes.”

  “Oh my,” Violet laughed and then groaned at the pain in her stomach.

  Denny made a plate while Violet sighed over her cup of too-weak coffee. “Poor Kate. Sick even before breakfast. I suppose we must clear our names and escape this house.”

  “Don’t do the chalkboard thing without me,” Denny said over his plate. “Or perhaps I should just carry this to my room.”

  Violet shook her head. “You’re safe. I need to check on Isolde and Kate.” She rose and glanced at Jack. “Would you walk with me?”

  Jack followed Violet
out of the breakfast room with Denny giggling and muttering about someone being in trouble. Vi looked around the hall ensuring it was empty. “I owe you an apology. A lot of them.”

  Jack’s head tilted as Violet placed her hand on his. “We should have announced our engagement. That we didn’t is my fault. That we’re here is my fault. I’m failing at all of this, especially at loving you. I should have told you I’ve been having bad dreams.”

  Jack wove his fingers through hers. “I didn’t tell you about Emily either, Vi. You accepted that far easier than I would have. Or did when it was Tomas, and you cared far less for Tomas than I did for Emily. Yet, I nearly ruined us over Tomas. We are, both of us, learning how to be something different together.”

  Violet pressed her face into Jack’s chest. “I don’t want to ruin what we have. I feel like I should know already how to be part of something with you because of Victor—”

  “You never had to learn how to be with Victor, Vi. That was simply your life.”

  “Mr. Wakefield?” Inspector Wright interrupted. Violet sighed into Jack’s chest and stepped away from him. That was an official query. Had someone discussed protocol with Inspector Wright? Violet guessed the tightness around his eyes and mouth said that someone farther up the chain of his command had heard from their superior.

  “I’ll go check on Kate and Isolde,” Violet told Jack, knowing she wouldn’t be welcome for whatever came next.

  “Be safe, Vi. Use all your wits. Whoever killed Melrose is in the house.”

  She nodded.

  With Kate throwing up, Violet wanted to go to her first, but Victor was there. Violet hurried up the stairs towards the family wing. Isolde’s room was at the end of the hall, overlooking the rose gardens. Violet knocked on the door, and Tomas opened it.

  “Oooh la la.” Violet laughed. “Is Isolde sicking up too?”

  “Ah.” Tomas cleared his throat. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  Isolde peeked around Tomas’s shoulder.

  Violet winked at her little sister. “My goodness, where is your mother? Does she know of such goings on? Scandal! I declare scandal, scandal!”