by K. Sterling
“In case of what?” Byron asked and Alastair shivered then snorted as his foot reached for the next stair. There was a frantic scurrying and Alastair swung his flashlight just as his foot went through the step. He fell back as it disintegrated and slid down the wall as he crashed through the staircase. The space beneath was narrow and he grunted as he landed on his ass. His knees were nearly to his chest but he was able to scramble to his feet quickly.
“Alastair!” Byron yelled.
“Oh, God, no,” Alastair whispered hoarsely as he turned and pushed against the walls. “Byron, you have to get me out of here,” he said weakly as he leaned back against the wall behind him and forced his chest to rise and fall normally. The stairs above him groaned as Byron carefully worked his way down them.
“I’m trying to get down the steps as fast as I can,” he said loudly and Alastair nodded quickly as he clamped his lips shut. A scream clawed at his throat and he fought to keep his mind blank. He couldn’t let it rush back to his nightmares.
“I need light,” he called calmly then pushed a long, slow breath through his lips.
“I’m tying the lamp to my cardigan,” Byron said and Alastair almost cried at the thought of Byron’s cardigan. He reached up as the lamp hovered over his head and immediately pulled the nubby, grey wool to his face and breathed deep. Byron filled him and Alastair hugged it to his chest as he lit the lamp then lowered it to the floor. He pulled Alastair’s cardigan on then tightened his arms around his chest as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light then turned to inspect the space around him. A large plastic wrapped bundle was wedged under the corner of the stairs and Alastair’s stomach clenched tight and the back of his throat burned as he tilted so the light could shine around him.
“Oh, fuck! Byron!” He shrieked at the matted clump of hair and dried fingers protruding from the side of the bundle. The stairs rattled and cracked as Byron rushed down them and Alastair covered his head as dust and dirt rained down on him.
“Are you alright?” Byron asked loudly as he banged on the wall. He was close and Alastair leaned and pressed his hands against it.
“I found Maggie Gilbert,” he said and he heard Byron hiss.
“So, the butler did it?” He asked and Alastair’s lips pulled tight.
“Yes. That’s droll,” he muttered as he looked up then shook his head. “I’m stuck. I don’t have enough room to run at the wall or kick so I can try and break through and I can’t climb out,” he said and Byron was making a lot of noise as he searched the room.
“Shockingly enough, I’ve found a hammer. There’s a nice selection of tools here,” he announced and Alastair gestured impatiently.
“Try the hammer,” he suggested.
“I’m going to start here,” Byron said then tapped the wall to Alastair’s right, at the taller corner. “Do you have enough room to protect yourself?” He asked.
“Yes, you’re about two feet to my right,” Alastair stated.
“Stand back,” Byron yelled before a loud bang shook the wall. It was made of scraps of wood and they began to crack and chip as Byron hacked at it. Alastair shielded his face with his arm but he wouldn’t back away, he didn’t want to get closer to Maggie’s folded up corpse. The wood split with a loud snap and the hammer broke through. “Stay out of the way!” Byron ordered before his shoulder slammed into the broken board. He repeatedly threw himself at the wall until his shoulder crashed through and Alastair rushed forward. He pushed at the jagged pieces as Byron pulled and flung them over his shoulder. Alastair fell forward as soon as he could fit his chest through and Byron hooked his arms under his shoulders and pulled as he leaned back. They fell onto the floor and Alastair scrambled to his feet and shook and twisted as he swatted at his clothes, trying to get as much of the filth and horror off him and out of his hair as he could.
“Are you hurt?” Byron asked and Alastair swore as he reached for Byron and pulled him close.
“No. Thank you for getting me out of there,” he whispered into his shoulder. His legs almost buckled with relief as Byron held him tight.
“No problem. Can we get out of here before the stairs collapse and we’re seriously trapped?” He asked and Alastair leaned back and nodded quickly before he turned Byron toward the stairs.
“That’s the best idea either of us have had since I mentioned the fucking wine,” he grumbled as he tested the first step then quickly hurried up the next five, staying close to the wall. He had to stretch across the large gap but was able to clear it then help Byron across. They climbed to the door without anything else breaking and Alastair slammed it shut and locked it.
“What are you going to do?” Byron asked and Alastair shrugged.
“I have to call the police,” he said and Byron looked concerned as he pushed his hand through his hair.
“Aren’t you worried they’ll find something while they’re here?” He asked and Alastair shook his head as they hurried across the courtyard.
“She had a family. They looked for her and they deserve to have her back,” he said as he pushed open the kitchen door and waited for Byron to go ahead of him. “They won’t need to look in the house and if they find something in the butler’s quarter’s, there’s nothing I could have done,” he added and Byron groaned as he looked over his shoulder.
“We could go back and make sure there’s nothing you wouldn’t want them to see,” he offered and Alastair shook his head.
“There is no force on this earth strong enough to compel me to go back down there ever again and I’m not going to remove anything. What if Maggie wasn’t Keller’s only victim? I’ll call tomorrow, we need a bath and we’re getting shit-faced. If they find something about my mother, I’ll deal with,” he said and Byron looked unsure.
“We can figure out a way to get down there now that we know what we’re looking at,” he argued. Alastair ignored him as he pointed at the housekeeper’s bathroom.
“Naked. Alcohol. Sex. Sleep.” His eyes were wide as he dared Byron to argue.
“Fine,” he said as he held up his hands. “I’ll start boiling water,” he offered and Alastair cheered as he kissed his forehead.
“I’m going to get the wine. Be naked and ready, I’m extremely grateful,” he warned.
Chapter 29
“Oh! God! Yesssss! Right there!” Byron sobbed as his back arched and his heels dug into Alastair’s ass. His chest rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath and Alastair hummed and growled as he licked the sweat from between his pecks then lapped at the underside of his chin. Byron made a sated, euphoric sound as his arms draped over his head and Alastair frowned at the dark smudges under his eyes the slight sinking in of his cheeks. He was working almost around the clock and it was hard to get him to eat enough.
“You’re taking the day off. We’re going into town,” Alastair declared then kissed him firmly before he pushed off the mattress and rolled out of bed.
“What? I can’t! I’ve only got one more to go,” Byron protested as he got his elbows beneath him and Alastair shook his head as he reached for his pajama pants.
“You’re not allowed to look at a single word in those journals or your notebooks today. Get up, we’re going to eat breakfast then spend two hours fooling around and getting ready,” he ordered and Byron’s lip pushed out as he crawled off the bed.
“Couldn’t we just do that and skip going to town? I’m a few days away from being done. Don’t you want to leave?” He asked and Alastair nodded.
“I do but I’d rather spend an extra day here than watch you make yourself sick. We’re going into town and acting like common boring people,” he said cheerfully and Byron snorted.
“You’re going to fail so catastrophically at that,” he predicted and Alastair pretended to be offended.
“I can be common and boring,” he muttered. “Wot ‘bout we pop into the tavern for a spot o’ stew?” He asked loudly and Byron’s face twisted.
“
What was that?” He asked. “Like, I’m an American and I’m offended by whatever that was. That wasn’t even cockney. Have you even met a normal person? Besides me,” he said as he shook his head in disbelief and a little disgust.
“Yes, I’ve met people,” Alastair said and Byron raised a brow.
“Name two,” he said and gave Alastair an expectant look. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled tight as he stared back at Byron. Byron’s brows continued to rise as he waited and Alastair threw his hands up.
“You put me on the spot! No one can think of anything when someone’s looking at them like they’re growing extra eyelids,” he complained loudly. “Come on, it’s going to be great and you’ll see that I can be normal.” He flailed his arms as he stomped down the hall and Byron needed a moment. Alastair wouldn’t appreciate it if he caught him laughing at him.
Chapter 30
Alastair couldn’t have passed for a common boring person if his life depended on it. He was doomed as soon as they stepped out of the car and people began recognizing him. Everywhere they went, people offered them food, wine and ale. Which was just generally brilliant for Byron but also spectacularly entertaining. Alastair coped well in the brewery but struggled in a small confectioner’s shop.
“Is it supposed to do that?” He asked as he chewed a large piece of fudge. “It’s very…cloying,” he said then smiled awkwardly as he struggled to swallow it. Alastair didn’t have much of a sweet tooth to begin with, so Byron was delighted. “Oh! Chocolate hazelnut! You should try that!” He declared excitedly and Alastair looked ill as he glared at him.
People practically tripped over themselves to meet Alastair. Byron understood their curiosity but he was baffled at the parents who handed him their small children as if he were the Pope or the Queen. Why would you give your baby to some random man? He wondered then pretended to cough as Alastair held a screaming toddler like a fully cooked and dressed Thanksgiving turkey.
“He’ll make a wonderful air raid siren, you must be very proud,” Alastair muttered as he handed the child back to its mother.
“Oh, Jesus, let’s go eat!” Byron sobbed as he pushed Alastair into the nearest pub.
The food was excellent and they were able to find a quiet table and enjoy their meal in peace. They were leaving and Byron was wondering how much sex it would take to convince Alastair to go back to Beldon and let him work when another idea erupted in his brain. He gasped as he reached for Alastair’s hand.
“We should ask around and see if any of the old household staff are still in the area,” Byron said as he scanned the small tavern and Alastair shook his head.
“Asking if anyone recalls any men my mother might have had an affair with is a good way to raise suspicions about my paternity,” he said quietly and Byron waved it off.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered loudly as he reached the counter and leaned against it. “Good afternoon, sir!” He said cheerfully and the bartender, a massive, gregarious man, grinned as he reached for Byron’s hand and shook it.
“Dr. Granger, innit?” He asked and Byron laughed.
“None of it’s true, I swear,” he joked then became just a bit more serious. “I was wondering if you could help us. We’re trying to find some missing books and documents up at Beldon Hall but we’re having a terrible time of it. Do you know if any of the old staff are still about Bakewell?” He asked and the bartended nodded.
“Sure! Miss Culbert’s just at the end of the lane, she was housekeeper for about thirty years but she started out in the kitchens as a girl. She can tell you anything you want to know about Beldon Hall,” he said and Byron slapped the top of the bar excitedly.
“You may have just saved us!” He said then shook his hand again before he let Alastair pull him out of the tavern.
“I remember her!” He hissed as he pushed Byron toward the Jaguar. “She was old the last time I saw her, I thought she’d be dead by now,” he said and Byron hissed.
“You might want to hurry, then,” he said and Alastair rolled his eyes as he started the car. It was literally just to the end of the lane and they were standing in front of the small, narrow cottage a few minutes later. Byron reached for the doorbell and Alastair grabbed his arm.
“What if she knows?” Alastair asked and Byron’s eyes flicked upwards.
“Well, then one would wonder why she’s never said anything,” he said and Alastair tilted his head.
“I guess she’s had plenty of time to say something,” he murmured then released Byron’s arm so he could ring the bell. They held their breath and listened as they waited. And waited. Just when they were sure no one was there, the door swung open and they leaned back. Byron wasn’t sure how old Miss Culbert was but if she looked old before, she was positively ancient now. She was tiny and held herself up with a walker. Her face was heavy with wrinkles as she squinted up at him through thick glasses.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Byron said. “My name is Byron Granger and this is…” He stopped when her eyes widened and she clutched her shawl tight around her.
“I know exactly who that man is,” she whispered shakily then carefully lowered into a bow. “Welcome home, my lord,” she said and Alastair gasped as he took her arm.
“Please, don’t. It’s lovely to see you again, Miss Culbert,” he said as he settled her hands back on the handles of the walker. She cowered as she nodded then jumped when Alastair tried to catch her shawl as it slid off her shoulder. He was confused and concerned as he stepped back and looked at Byron.
“We were wondering if we could ask you some questions,” Byron said and she nodded as she tore her gaze from Alastair.
“I’ll tell you whatever I know,” she said as she turned and slowly shuffled away from the door. Byron shrugged then waved for Alastair to follow. He shut the door behind them then joined them in the small parlor just behind the door. Alastair attempted to help Miss Culbert lower into her spot on the sofa then released her when she flinched.
“I’m so sorry, I was just trying to help,” he said as he backed away. Her eyes followed him as he retreated to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. Byron sat next to her and gave Alastair an encouraging smile before he turned his attention to Miss Culbert.
“We’re trying to solve a bit of a mystery up at Beldon Hall,” he said and her eyes snapped to his and she became alert. Byron kept his expression relaxed and open. “We’ve found a letter from a guest at the hall and we’d love to figure out what his name was. It was quite a humorous letter and we’d like to have a name and a face to put with it,” he offered and her head began to shake.
“A humorous gentleman at Beldon Hall?” She said then shook her head with more determination. “I think you might be the first,” she stated and Byron laughed.
“It would have been many, many years ago, before his lordship was born,” he said then tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps he was a friend of the late lord or her ladyship,” he added and her eyes narrowed.
“A friend of her ladyship, before his lordship was born?” She asked and Byron gave her an expectant look. She glanced back at Alastair then huffed as she pointed at a beat up biscuit tin on the windowsill. “Bring me that,” she ordered and Alastair jumped to his feet and reached for it. He offered it to her and she shook her head as she took it and gave it to Byron. “Open this, I can’t with these hands now,” she said as she offered him the tin. They were twisted and the joints were grotesquely swollen. He held her hands in his before he slid the tin from her grasp.
“What am I looking for?” He asked gently as he opened it. She chuckled breathlessly as Byron began sifting through photos from every decade since the invention of the camera.
“Oh, you’ll know,” she said before her eyes searched Alastair’s face. “Do you know what happened to your father’s first wife?” She asked and Alastair clenched his jaw as he nodded. Byron frowned as he looked between them.
“What happened? I read th
at his first wife died but I don’t know how,” he said.
“He killed her,” Alastair said and Byron was glad he was sitting.
“This just keeps getting darker,” he said and Alastair gave him a pointed look before he gestured for Byron to keep looking through the photos.
“He strangled her,” Alastair said and Miss Culbert nodded as she made herself smaller and tighter.
“They blamed it on a gypsy and they let him hang for it. We all knew he’d done it but no one could say anything,” she whispered. “It broke my heart when the last Lady Waldeford arrived. She was so much younger than his lordship and so beautiful.” She looked almost resentful as she watched Alastair.
“She was beautiful,” he agreed and Miss Culbert’s hand trembled as she pointed at him.
“I know why you’re here,” she said and Byron looked up from the photos. Alastair was taut and Byron wasn’t breathing.
“What do you mean?” Byron asked and she snorted.
“She lied, my lord,” she declared and Alastair eyed her warily.
“What did she lie about?” He replied and she tapped Byron’s hand impatiently.
“I imagine she felt helpless and the only way she could fight back against him was to lie and attack his pride,” she mused and Byron’s hands began to shake as he shuffled through the pictures faster.
“What did she do?” Alastair urged and Byron’s heart stopped and the all the air rushed from his body.
“Oh. God.” Byron looked at the picture and his hand trembled as he raised it so he could see it better. He turned it and read the neat print on the back of the photo. “Oh, dear God,” he whispered as his eyes met Alastair’s.
“She lied to him,” Miss Culbert said as Byron passed the picture to Alastair.