Death Misconstrued

by Beth Byers

  “Do you think that this Kaspar murdered his aunt?” Joseph asked Georgette and Charles.

  “He seemed very, very shocked today and distressed when he heard of Edna’s theories about his Aunt Betty.”

  Georgette leaned over to pet the dogs while Charles listed whom they had met and the story behind each of them. As he did, Joseph was shaking his head.

  “So this Edna was suggesting that the Mrs. Allyn leave her husband and take her children to Australia?”

  Marian glanced sharply at Joseph and snapped, “He did have a second family.”

  “I’m not saying that’s not true or that’s not wrong, Marian,” Joseph said. “Having your wife take your children across the world is a motive regardless of what you might have done to drive her to that choice.” It said something that Joseph didn’t immediately dismiss their concerns.

  Georgette rubbed the back of her neck. “Anna Allyn was packing today with her children. She didn’t say she was going to Australia, but she seemed to be going somewhere.”

  “So we have a nephew who possibly stands to gain. A highly emotional woman who lives next door and was being coaxed to leave her husband. The husband who may have discovered his wife was leaving him. All of them might have had something to do with this accident if it wasn’t an accident.”

  “But why would Anna Allyn or her husband murder Betty?” Georgette asked Joseph, who shook his head.

  “That’s what we’ll need to find out.”

  “More importantly,” Georgette said, “someone needs to stay with Edna so she isn’t finished off before she can say what happened. She was pretty confused when she was taken away, but what if she remembers something? If there is a killer, they have every reason to find her alone and finish her off.”

  Chapter 11

  CHARLES AARON

  The look on Joseph’s face reflected the feeling in Charles’s stomach. How did his quiet, kind, imaginative love end up pulling all of them into this madness? He wished he couldn’t imagine it, but he could.

  He could imagine Georgette discovering the table of her books, and he’d have loved to see her enjoy that moment. He could imagine that a person paying close attention and knowing the true name of the author would realize just who Georgette was. He could imagine Georgette being willing to have tea with that person. Of course, Georgette would be willing to experience the local teashop.

  It was only then that he realized that there was more to Edna’s theory. She’d been observant enough that she had realized who Georgette was in mere moments. She wasn’t a dullard like the bookseller had been. It lent credence to her theory regarding her cousin’s murder.

  There was something more to the connection between Georgette and people like Edna. He considered Georgette and thought—in the end—it was her eyes. She had this way of looking at you, seeing you, and listening to you. If you had a secret weighing on you and those eyes looking your way, he could see asking Georgette for help and sharing those burdens.

  Marian and Joseph had left to talk to Edna, and Charles almost called them back and told them to bring Georgette. If anyone could get Edna to pour out all of her troubles, it would be Georgette.

  “I’m going to take the dogs to the back garden,” Georgette told him, glancing at Robert. She winked at both of them and then clucked to the dogs. She stepped into the hall and Charles turned to his nephew.

  “I’m not sure Georgette can be trusted to not trip into another crime if left unsupervised.”

  Robert’s laugh said he agreed. The way he looked guilty for his laugh had Charles biting back his own grin.

  “I need you to go look at that house in Harper’s Hollow. Is Eunice here with you or in London?”

  “She’s in London.”

  “Take her with you to see the house. If the house is redeemable, buy it, and get the best price you can. You’ll see by its state it needs an excessive amount of work.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you,” Robert told Charles.

  He snorted as he replied, “Georgette says it feels right.”

  “Feels right?” Robert asked

  Charles shook his head. You had to experience Georgette following her instincts to know that they shouldn’t be discounted. He wrote down the address he’d taken note of while Georgette had been staring at the weeping willows. “My rooms won’t work to take Georgette home, and this safe trip has turned into madness. When we’re done here, Georgette and I are going to elope.”

  Robert’s grin was wide, but he hid any other reaction. Charles was grateful for it. He knew that he was being irrational in his decisions as far as the house went. Marrying Georgette quickly, however, that was just good sense.

  “If the house can be fixed without ruining me, and you buy it, your commission is to get it far enough along that we can live in it so that when we come back from our honeymoon, we’ll be able to move in. Functional rooms, please.”

  Robert nodded, taking notes, and then looked up. “How bad is the house?”

  “Is the fact that it ‘feels’ right to Georgette answer enough? There’s a reason she had to use that term.”

  Robert winced, then adjusted his tie. “Joseph just took his fiancé to sit with an attack victim and listen to that woman gossip, and he intends to leave Marian behind to protect the old woman.”

  Charles lifted a brow and waited.

  “You’re buying a house that you’re too wise to buy on your own. And you’ve been chasing your Georgette all over England.”

  Charles gestured for Robert to finish.

  “I’m never falling in love.”

  “I said that once.”

  This time, Robert was the one who winced and Charles was the one who laughed. “Go on then. We’ve got to get Marian and Georgette settled before they discover some cannibal gang.”

  “Cannibal gang?”

  Robert’s teasing laugh made Charles redden slightly, but the truth was he wouldn’t put it past Georgette. “Don’t tell her about the house. Not until we learn if I can afford it or if it’s too far gone.”

  Robert nodded, rising. “I only came to bring you paperwork. Luther told me to come back quickly. I’ve even got his auto.” Robert started to open the door but paused. “You know, if Georgette wants this house so badly, you shouldn’t set aside what she can add.”

  “You think I should use her money to buy the house?” Charles asked, surprised.

  “I think she’d rather have you use that money and get the house that ‘feels’ right,” Robert said, using the quote gesture.

  Charles snorted but he told Robert, “Well, you have a pretty good idea of what she’s earned. Her only indulgence has been used furniture, a few clothes, and tea.”

  “So she has far more than either of us would have?”

  Charles shrugged, but yes—he suspected that Georgette had been far wiser than either Robert or Charles had been. It made no sense, really. She was utterly responsible—outside of tea—and then would throw it all away for a half-gone house.

  GEORGETTE DOROTHY MARSH

  Georgette paced the garden as she considered what she knew about Edna’s acquaintances. Georgette simply didn’t know Edna all that well. Did the woman have a dozen friends with reasons to kill her? She doubted it. Despite having seen mankind turn on each other since she’d published her first book, she just couldn’t stop believing that most people were good. Like Mrs. Parker, who had never really liked Georgette all that much and yet had welcomed Georgette and Charles along with Joseph to her family.

  The dogs were following Georgette as she circled the outskirts of the garden, making her the pied piper of small dogs. The sight of her girls following after her had Georgette smiling as she imagined them in that perfect garden in Harper’s Hollow. There was a part of her that wanted to plague Charles over buying that house.

  Perhaps she should even—

  “Georgette?”

  She turned and found Harrison Parker. Georgette smiled at him. “Lovely day, isn’t it? Desp
ite everything, the sun continues to smile down on us.”

  Harrison cleared his throat. “I spoke to Robert this morning. He extended an offer to me to be published by Aaron and Luther.”

  “Oh that’s wonderful!”

  “I know it was you.” His handsome face was unreadable and Georgette’s head cocked.

  “I asked Charles to read it after your last changes. Harrison, it’s a good book.”

  “But you handed me my dream.”

  Georgette shook her head. “You earned your dream. I just asked Robert to look at you book. Aaron & Luther are professionals, Harrison. They wouldn’t publish a book if it didn’t have merit.”

  Harrison nodded. He hesitated before he spoke again. “I made a mess of things, didn’t I?”

  Georgette had no idea what he was talking about.

  “I thought you were plain, and I could just ask you to read for me, and you did. It’s only now that I realize I was blind.”

  Georgette shook her head. “Harrison, your book is good. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

  “I thought you were plain. I thought—it’s only since I’ve been paying attention that I realized you were more than—”

  “Harrison!” Georgette said a little sharply.

  “I love you, Georgette.”

  She stared at him and wondered what mad world she’d fallen into that he would say such things to her. He didn’t love her. He didn’t know her. He cared little for her and he was crediting her for things that she had not done. He was confusing excitement about his book with gratitude and a ready audience for his status.

  “I know we could be happy.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and then sweet Beatrice placed a paw on Georgette’s foot as if realizing that Georgette was reeling. She reached down and lifted the little dog as though Beatrice could defend her against Harrison’s feelings.

  “I know I could make you happy, Georgette. We could have such a great life together. I know this is bad form with Charles just inside, but—”

  “What is my favorite drink?”

  He blinked. “Champagne? Lemonade. Yes, lemonade. Of course it is.”

  When she didn’t nod, he guessed, “Ginger beer?”

  She shook her head.

  “Color?”

  “What does that have to do with being in love?”

  “Book?”

  “Yours, of course.”

  Georgette’s laugh was a little mean. She had moved past patience with him, past being grateful for his kindness, past all of that to sheer frustration that he wouldn’t accept her no. “I don’t think you love, know, or want me any more than you want…want…Anna Allyn.”

  “I don’t know Mrs. Allyn. She’s married.”

  Georgette barely contained her snort. Of course, Anna Allyn was married. She was the first woman’s name that came to mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t know Anna Allyn, it was that they both knew he didn’t know her. And yet, he barely knew Georgette better. She strove for a soft tone. “You don’t love or know me, not really, Harrison. Isn’t it possible that you’re only interested because I said no?”

  “No!”

  Georgette did not believe that denial for a moment, but she said, “I think you’re a good man, Harrison Parker. You’re kind to your aunt and your cousin and to your cousin’s plain friend. I am glad I could help you and I wish you the best. Please understand, however, I am going to marry Charles Aaron—whom I love.”

  Harrison nodded, jaw clenching, and he stormed out of the garden after stating, “I understand.”

  Slowly, Georgette pulled in a steady breath and then blew it out. When she turned to go back inside the house, she found Charles standing in the shadows.

  “Oh—” She closed her eyes as she asked, “Did you see all of that?” She knew he had by the look on his face. It was a mask that gave her no insight into what he was thinking.

  “Tea with too much milk and sugar.”

  Georgette’s eyes were burning again and she opened them to watch the mask melt into tenderness.

  “Usually with an odd mix of flavorings that become addictive. I can almost taste that one with coffee.”

  Her watery laugh punctuated his step forward.

  “Blue. Your favorite color is blue. The blue-grey of a sunny day with rain clouds in the distance. You like the sunny beautiful days, but the rainy ones give you peace. A combination of the two? It’s your favorite.”

  Slowly she pressed her thumb against her chest where her heart lay. It was aching suddenly with the matching emotion in his gaze. Beatrice licked Georgette’s chin and caught a tear that had slipped free.

  “Your favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen, but Pride & Prejudice is a close second. You identify, I think too much, with both Anne and Charlotte. We can only be grateful that you don’t have the family to keep you from me as poor Anne had, and I have the wit to never let you go. As for Charlotte…well, that’s just laughable.”

  She pressed her face to the chest that was just in front of her as he spoke quietly against the top of her head.

  “Your own book is not your favorite. If anything, you’re confused by why other people like your writing.”

  She had to bite down on her bottom lip, and her shivers declared that she’d stepped into another land where she seemed to be beloved of someone.

  “You are right.”

  “I know,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t love you because of any of those things. I love you for your insight, your kindness, and the way you fit inside my heart. Knowing your favorite color and drink is just part of knowing you, and the least important parts at that.”

  Chapter 12

  Georgette Dorothy Marsh

  Edna looked as though she’d had a battle with death and lost. If not for the movement of her chest, Georgette would feel certain that the poor woman had already gone on to the next life.

  “Oh my goodness.” Georgette placed the bouquet of flowers on the table next to Edna and felt as though she hadn’t done nearly enough. There had to be more to do. “Oh Edna, you look terrible.”

  A tear rolled from Edna’s eye down her temple and into the tangled hair spread across the hospital pillow. “The constable doesn’t believe me.”

  “But Joseph did?”

  Edna nodded and another tear followed the first. “I have a broken collarbone, a broken arm, and broken ribs. The constable thinks I’m daft from falling down the stairs and am imagining someone—”

  “Holding a pillow over your face?”

  “How did you know?” The terrified look on Edna’s face made it clear that Georgette was Edna’s main suspect.

  “I looked in your room,” Georgette said calmly. “Every inch of it was in perfect order except the pillow next the wall. It seemed to me that even confused from a terrible dream you’d never have thrown the pillow over there. Or have left it if you had.”

  Edna’s eyes widened in shock and she looked at Charles, who shook his head, but he didn’t disagree.

  “Georgette can do that,” he told the woman. “She sees a detail like a pillow out of place and thinks ‘This woman must have been nearly suffocated.’ And usually, she’s right.”

  Edna turned a questioning gaze back to Georgette.

  “If you didn’t throw the pillow, someone else must have,” Georgette told her. “Who would be in your room without your permission unless they were doing wrong? And with Betty dying in her sleep? I just thought, well, what if she was suffocated and the doctor’s missed it?”

  “I woke to a pillow over my face and not being able to breathe,” Edna said in a faint voice. “I struggled at first, but I realized what was happening and I pretended to twitch and held my breath. I taught swimming to the girls, you know. When I hated the work, I’d go for a swim, hold my breath, and sink under the water until my lungs hurt. I hated working there so much that I suppose I got rather good at it.”

  Georgette stared in horror. If Edna hadn’t bee
n able to catch her wits and fake her death, she’d have died for certain. It must have been so terrifying to pretend to be dead and hope that your killer was impatient.

  “I was so lucky,” Edna rasped. “I—never told anyone that. I never told anyone how I’d dream of oblivion at the girls school.”

  Georgette took Edna’s hand. “You saved yourself. Do you have any idea of how lucky you are for being able to do that?”

  It didn’t seem that having hated your life and developed a terrible skill was all that comforting.

  “I don’t really like Bath, you know,” Edna said. “I just missed my cousin. When Betty died and I thought she might have been murdered, I considered leaving so many times. Do you know why I didn’t? I don’t have anyone else. Anna and Kaspar are as good as it gets for me, and I thought either of them might have killed Betty.”

  “Why Anna?”

  “Betty knew all of Anna’s secrets. More than Anna has ever told me, but Betty said Anna wasn’t as innocent as she seemed.”

  Georgette glanced at Charles and then asked, “What do you think that secret was?”

  “I think Anna may have gotten pregnant on purpose to get her husband to marry her. She knew from the beginning that her husband didn’t love her. He loves that girl he was raised next door to. He’d have married her eventually but for Anna.”

  Georgette closed her eye against the stupidity of women. But she wanted to take Anna aside and shake her silly. You didn’t chase men who loved other women and expect them to adore you instead.

  “I don’t see that Mr. Allyn didn’t know what he was doing,” Charles told them both. “It’s not like men don’t know where babies come from. The men I know would have been flattered to have someone as outwardly beautiful and desirable as Anna Allyn chase after them.”

  Georgette was as unimpressed as Edna who muttered, “Idiots. I used to tell the girls that men were spoiled children who would never appreciate them. The best you can hope for is the least rotten of a bad batch of apples.”

  Georgette bit back a laugh at the consternation on Charles’s face and then said, “You have no idea who tried to kill you?”