Camilla Lenore DeMoss
Countess of Windermere
The Countess of Windermere was found dead of natural causes on Sunday afternoon by the children, who have no doubt been scarred into the realm of making up fantastic stories.
“Fantastic stories,” Hattie said, leaning over Tabitha’s shoulder. “That, my dear, is true enough.”
Tabitha gave a final glance to the article. “It’s a shame about my parents, isn’t it? Pity they were both assigned to work in the prison kitchen. Mum and Daddy hate dish duty.”
The Crums had been caught boarding a ship to Spain and were charged with years of petty theft and bank fraud. There had been a riotous chase scene up the gangplank and Mrs. Crum had toppled overboard, breaking her nose and shoulder when she belly flopped into the ocean. Mr. Crum had left her and made it aboard the Lady of Spain, where he collided with a shoe-shine boy, resulting in a most unfortunate lodging of the boy’s polishing brush in a most unfortunate place on Mr. Crum’s person.
“It was very lucky, though, that the lead policeman’s daughter wanted a cat. They’ll take comfort in knowing that Mr. Tickles is well cared for. And the Trundles are only a few cells over. Surely they’ll have meals together now and then.”
“Well, sometimes fair is fair, Tabitha,” Hattie said. “And now, for your envelope. Several weeks ago you received one from my sister, because she knew that I might not have the courage to send it myself. So here’s one that I’ve put together on my own.”
Tabitha smelled the paper, just as she had done with the first envelope. What was it she had wished for?
A summons from Scotland Yard to become an Inspector-In-Training.
An invitation from King Edward to attend and gamble on a horse race.
Notification from a long-lost relative who actually wants me and wouldn’t view me as an imposition.
One wish fulfilled out of three wasn’t bad at all. She held her breath a moment before tearing the seal open. At the sight of the envelope’s contents, her mouth dropped fully open.
“Let me guess,” Hattie said. “It’s a written declaration from me, saying that you can be my Inspector-in-Training.”
“Please tell me that you’re being perfectly serious,” Tabitha whispered.
Her grandmother smiled. “Well, it’s a bit unofficial for now,” Hattie allowed. “Just you and me. But since, in addition to devising a successful plan to disable Miss Pettigrew, you were instrumental in bringing in the Lady Envy thieves, I think you’re ready to learn a few tricks of the trade.”
Tabitha nodded happily.
Hattie patted her hand. “Now, I want it to be perfectly clear that I’m not forcing you into the family business. A proper guardian wants only health and happiness for their child, even if that means they stray from the paths we try to set for them. A lesson learned too late for me, due to a mistake I don’t intend to repeat. Some parents try to create small version of themselves—a ploy at an extended life, I suppose. But”—she held up a finger—“a child is ultimately and always their own person with their own choices, and I would never presume to—”
“Rest assured, Grandmother, I choose to be an Inspector,” Tabitha said, hugging the note to her chest. That’s two of the three. Hmm. “Grandmother, just how well do you know King Edward?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I just thought maybe you might fancy a horse race and a little gambl—”
A door knocker sounded, and Tabitha jumped up. “They’re here!”
“So.” Hattie clapped her hands. “Quickly, one more piece of business before you young ones tear up my secret passages and mess about with the disguises in Thomas’s bedroom. The paperwork has come through, and the will of Camilla DeMoss sends our remaining funds to a numbered account in Switzerland. I caught word of their splendidly quiet banking and chose a small outfit in Zurich. That shall be our first stop. We’ll sell Hollingsworth Hall and all of its contents during our absence. Millie was always fond of buying nonsense for the house, including that dreadful front door knocker, but I’ll be glad to leave it all behind. Having done away with my alias, I think it’s best to make a fresh beginning somewhere else. After all, there are far worse things than starting over.”
“Far worse things,” Tabitha murmured. “Do you know something? I actually think it’s not a very good use of my time to think of far worse things. From now on, I shall keep a list of few better things.”
“Sorry?” Hattie turned in her couch seat.
“Yes,” Tabitha continued. She placed a pen in her mouth as a pipe and paced back and forth. “For instance, there are few better things than:
• unexpectedly receiving an envelope on a foggy day
• being thrust into a genuine mystery
• finding out that the people you’ve been spending time with are friends . . .”
“Any others?” Hattie asked, a bemused look upon her face.
Tabitha took a puff of her pen and nodded decidedly. “Yes,” she said, marching within inches of Hattie. “Finding a grandmother. There are few better things than finding out that you have a grandmother. Especially one who’s not a reformed or current murderess.” She darted forward and placed a playful kiss on Hattie’s forehead.
“Well,” Hattie said, a delighted flush making its way to her cheeks. “Well.”
“Can Pemberley come to Zurich?”
“Of course! We shall have to get him a friend. Perhaps a lady mouse. You’re certain Pemberley is a he?”
Tabitha blushed. “I really wouldn’t know anything about it. He always seemed like a he.”
Her grandmother winked. “We’ll have someone find out. If that appears to be the case, perhaps we’ll get Pemberley a companion and see if we can’t breed a new generation. Yes, Tabitha Darling, I’m awfully fond of new generations, and I’m far more fond of mice than cats. Cats were always Millie’s preference. I’m so glad the Herringbones and Dales thought of giving the royalty to orphanage children.”
“Sorry, what did you call me?”
“Tabitha Darling. Do you mind very much taking on your original last name?”
Tabitha shook her head. “Not at all.” It was hard to believe that she was no longer an unloved Crum. But really, she had never been unloved. Just misplaced for a bit. “Though once I make it as a Scotland Yard inspector, I may have to change it to Tabitha Mysterioso or Tabitha Clevertop.”
“Tabitha Clevertop?” Hattie frowned.
“Only joking.” Tabitha leaned into her grandmother, curling into the welcoming warm body like a child who was making up for lost years. Which she was. “I know names aren’t important. It’s the person behind them.”
“That’s right, love.”
“But just so you know,” Tabitha clarified, “it feels awfully nice to be a Darling.”
And with that, Tabitha Darling pecked her grandmother’s cheek and dashed away to join her friends. If everything went according to plans made via vigorous letter writing the week before, they would spend a glorious weekend eating splendid food, pelting one another with snowballs, exploring passages, and perhaps, if Oliver was still up for it, sneaking a motorcar out for a drive.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to a case of overwhelming gratitude, I am pleased to share a nonexclusive list of the dear people who helped mold an idea into a manuscript, then signed on to transform that manuscript into this book. They are, in no particular order:
TINA WEXLER
Heir to a jumble of innumerable, yet-unsent, messages asking for advice on everything from story ideas to pizza suggestions, this literary agent is exceptionally quick-witted, good-natured, and wise. She is known to have vast reserves of patience that she keeps in a secret vault somewhere in New York City.
KRISTIN OSTBY
A Michigander and selective hoarder of authors and illustrators, this fiercely intelligent editor spends her time poring over pages and finding magical ways of improving them with a keen eye and open heart. She is a literar
y detective whose ability to boldly untangle stories, discovering their essential threads, is admired and coveted by many. She is also very kind and very funny and very fond of animals.
LUCY RUTH CUMMINS
This book designer is known for taking marvelous amounts of care with stories and artists, combing over pages, sketches, photographs, and layouts to create unique reading experiences. Her savvy and style impact an incredible breadth of books. It is a gift to have her expertise touch these pages.
NATALIE ANDREWSON
An artist of many talents, this woman has an uncanny ability to read about characters and bring them to life on the page. Her eye for color and line is unparalleled, and her depiction of a rather motley young girl and a beloved mouse has brought the author of this book countless grins of delight.
JUSTIN CHANDA AND EVERYONE AT SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
Innovative and adventurous, here is a group of people who dedicate themselves daily to both readers and writers. The book lovers of the world (and the author of this novel in particular) are fortunate to have them in the publishing business.
JOY MCCULLOUGH-CARRANZA, TARA DAIRMAN, BECKY WALLACE, ANN BEDICHEK, MELODIE WRIGHT
These cheeky, brilliant, lovely, honest, story-loving ladies were early readers of this tale and are well known throughout the author’s household for their ability to induce giggles, admiration, and much revision. They are, in no uncertain terms, the very best sort of society.
The author will continue to offer her appreciation for the above list of people with all due fortitude. As Inspector Percival Pensive might say, they are “the sort of company that one invites to dinner, splurging ridiculously on the food and drink in hopes that they’ll tell stories long into the evening, perhaps staying on through breakfast. Ah, breakfast; a lovely sort of meal, don’t you think?”
Jessica Lawson does not live in a fancy manor house, but she does deal with mysteries on a daily basis. Most of those mysteries involve missing socks and shadowy dessert disappearances. She lives in Colorado with her husband and children. Visit her online at jessicalawsonbooks.com.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2015 by Jessica Lawson
Illustration copyright © 2015 by Natalie Andrewson
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Nooks & crannies / Jessica Lawson.—1st edition.
pages cm
Summary: Eleven-year-old Tabitha Crum, whose parents were just about to abandon her, is invited to the country estate of a wealthy countess along with five other children and told that one of them will become her heir.
ISBN 978-1-4814-1921-5 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4814-1923-9 (eBook)
[1. Inheritance and succession—Fiction. 2. Aristocracy (Social class)—Fiction. 3. Identity—Fiction.
4. Great Britain—History—Edward VII, 1901–1910—Fiction. 5. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title. II. Title: Nooks and crannies.
PZ7.L438267Noo 2015
[Fic]—dc23
2014023223
Nooks & Crannies Page 24