by Beth Byers
Wedding Vows & Murder
A Violet Carlyle Historical Mystery
Beth Byers
Contents
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Death by the Book Preview
Death by the Book Preview
Also By Beth Byers
Also By Amanda A. Allen
Summary
April 1925.
Violet and Jack are finally getting married! The date has been saved, the flowers have been bought, and the baker is working on a creation of layers upon layers. With all of the parties and teas to satisfy Violet's stepmother, no one could be more ready for the wedding day to arrive than these two.
When, however, Vi and Jack find a body at one of the pre-wedding parties, they expect their wedding plans to be a little askew. Only the victim is someone they both despised. Now Violet and Jack must solve the murder before their joyful day is ruined. Will they be able to solve the crime, say their vows, and get on with their lives? Or is their happily ever after ruined?
Chapter One
“Why did you want to wait?” Violet asked, crossing her hands over Jack’s chest and propping her chin on top of them. It was a very early April morning and their wedding was mere days away. And—they were still sleeping with the bedroom door open to protect her virtue.
To say she was glad they were so close to their wedding day was to say she was glad the house hadn’t burst into flames and that everyone hadn’t been struck down with the measles. She wasn’t sure that she wanted anything more than to marry him and shut that bedroom door. She grinned at the door for a moment and then turned her mischievous gaze on her beloved. “Are you really that afraid of my father?”
Jack had a bit of scruff on his face, and his penetrating gaze took in her face. He knew her smirk too well, and his face smoothed into his own even expression that hid his feelings. “I suppose we’re notorious enough.”
He grinned at her—one of those rare things that only she ever got to see. A defenseless, honest expression appeared on his face and he sat up, pulling her with him so she was kneeling over his legs.
It was moments like that when she had to acknowledge just how large and strong Jack was, and comparing him to a mountain would not be amiss. He had a strong jaw and broad shoulders that begged her burdens. He wasn’t the most handsome of men, but he called to something within Vi.
She was smart enough to know that it was because he wanted her for who she was. Not what she was. Not the heiress. Not the earl’s daughter. Not the remnant of some old family that claimed privileges by birth and the accomplishments of those long dead.
He simply wanted Violet, and he knew what that meant. She was devoted, loving, interfering, clever, educated, prone towards the blues, a friend to be counted on and just as likely to spend an afternoon ensuring orphaned children had what they needed as to spend the day in bed with a stack of ridiculous novels and a pot of coffee.
She was witty enough to be the one her great aunt left her fortune to. It wasn’t favoritism that had Vi as the recipient. It was because Violet had learned how to manage and invest the money. As clever as she was, she wrote pulp novels for the sheer joy of an absurd piece of fiction.
Jack nuzzled her with his whisker-covered chin. “Nothing is more important to me than you and your happiness. Maybe you’d have regretted making love before we married. If we had an early baby, basic mathematics aren’t all that hard for a child later. Is it so hard to wait? Is it so hard to avoid having to tell a child we were living as if we were married before we were? Our friends won’t care, Vi, but our society hasn’t changed all that much. Don’t we have the rest of our lives to enjoy that aspect of being together? Without everyone else’s judgement and commentary?”
Violet was tempted to place a blistering kiss on him, but the temptation to go beyond mere kisses had been growing stronger and stronger than she’d have thought possible. It was getting so difficult to remain chaste that they barely touched when they were awake. She’d have thought Jack would have abandoned sleeping with her if not for her nightmares.
There was so much to be happy about at the moment despite her dreams. Victor and Kate had found a country house a mere five minutes motoring from Jack’s country home. Violet’s stepmother, Lady Eleanor, had turned her unwanted attention to her own daughter when Isolde had eloped.
Their wedding had fallen together, and all that was left was the baking of the cake and the arrival of the day. Vi and Jack’s house was even finished.
The paper had been hung on the walls, the furniture they’d ordered had arrived, the floors had been refinished, and as a gift, Jack had the great hall ceiling painted, along with the bedroom that would have been the lady of the house’s if they hadn’t intended to share one. Instead, it was part office, part boudoir, part personal library. It was painted with the night sky, with the merest shadow of dragons worked into the darkness, so one could only identify them if they knew to look for them. To say she loved her gift wasn’t enough, and she was eager to finally move into their home, even when it meant leaving her twin’s house, though that was only down the street.
Instead of kissing him as she wanted to, she leaned into his chest, breathed him in twice, and then swung off the bed, winked, and skipped into the bathroom, her dog, Rouge, following, yipping in excitement.
Victor and Kate were already in the breakfast room when Violet arrived. Vi leaned down and pressed a kiss on Kate’s cheek, letting her hand pass over the baby growing in her sister-in-law. “How is my baby?”
“I think you mean my baby.” Victor stood when Violet arrived and crossed to the buffet to pour a cup of her favorite Turkish coffee. The twins had the same love for Turkish coffee that matched all the other corresponding points between them. Despite being fraternal twins, they had the same slim builds, the same witty gazes, the same dark hair and eyes. They were, to put it simply, two sides of the same coin.
“No.” Violet turned to her twin. “I am certain I mean mine.”
Victor handed over the cup to his sister before pressing his own kiss on Kate just over where Vi had left one. “Father will murder us all if there is an actual baby for you, pretty devil,” he told Vi.
“No worries on that score, Victor darling.” With a more serious tone, she asked, “Did you read the end of the book?”
“I did. I read. I winced. I envisioned the reaction when Lady Eleanor discovers there is a Lady Léonor, part-witch, part-goblin, in the book. You’re still planning on having the heroine, a sweet young but clever woman, be forced to burn the stepmother and monster alive?”
“Something must be done,” Violet told him. “If this is what it takes to make her stop bothering Jack? I think I shall hand-deliver it to her with an offer to change the woman’s name to something different…perhaps Hester…but only with a solemn promise to simply allow me the fate I have created. For good or ill. She must leave Jack alone.”
Victor shook his head. “My sweet, dear demon. You are tempting the bear to attack.”
“It is a challenge,” Kate finished. “If you let Lady Eleanor escape, perhaps she will leave you alone.”
Violet grinned at her sister-in-law. Kate and Victor had been married a few
short weeks less than they’d been expecting a baby, prompting the earl’s threats to both of his daughters’ beloveds. For Isolde and Tomas—they had eloped, escaped to the Caribbean, and returned only to pull the focus of Isolde’s mother and furious father away from Vi. For Vi—she and Jack had been towing the virtuous line.
Towing that line did not, however, equal living a fantasy where Lady Eleanor stopped interfering in their lives. Nothing had stopped her before, but now Violet was no longer willing to put on a polite face.
“Are you going to the party this evening?” Victor asked Violet as Jack entered the room, shaved and crisp with his hair slicked back.
Sliding his pocket watch into its home, Jack took and refilled Violet’s coffee and then made his own. He made a second trip to the buffet, retiring to the table with two plates. Vi glanced down at the one he’d made for her. It was piled high with kedgeree, toast, bacon, sausages, and tomatoes. She stared at Jack, who didn’t seem to notice her look while he overloaded his toast with marmalade.
Violet didn’t believe for a second that Jack didn’t notice her expression, but he was ignoring her. She shoveled half the food to the side and started with a bite of the fried tomatoes before setting her fork down to sigh into her perfect coffee again. “Yes, of course, we’re going. Algie is engaged to an American heiress. I must meet her. Is she marrying him for his connection to the nobility? It is rather distant. Does she love him? He’s such a…ah…”
“Daft fool?” Victor suggested.
“Easy mark?” Kate added with a bit of a delicate wince, as though she felt bad for saying such things. Violet lifted a brow and Kate rubbed her stomach. “I suppose his mother thought he was lovely.”
“Lovable idiot,” Violet finished, staring at Kate for her remark. “Are you afraid Violet Junior is going to be a fool like Algie?” she asked.
Kate flinched and glanced away.
“Not possible.” Violet resolutely set down her coffee and leaned forward to emphasize her statement. “Dearest Kate, perhaps if only Victor were involved here, but with your brains? Let alone mine! Little Vi will be fine. A bit too clever for her own good, perhaps.”
“Certainly,” Jack added, and then slightly pushed Violet’s plate closer to her.
“What is this?” Vi demanded, nudging the plate back.
“You’re thinner.”
“I’m getting married,” Violet told him. “Every girl under the sun worries about her looks before her marriage. Except Kate. As she was sicking up into the bin.”
Kate scowled at Violet, but she agreed with her a moment later in sisterly solidarity. “She’s right.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your figure,” Victor choked out. “Has she gone mad?”
“She’s always been vain,” Kate told him. “Women are extra vain around their wedding days. It’s a special kind of science.”
“Vain?” Violet gasped, holding her throat.
“Any woman with as much makeup and as many stuffed armoires as you is vain, darling.”
Violet gasped again, but she winked at Kate before facing her betrothed. “Did you hear that? Vain!”
Jack wasn’t distracted by her antics as he looked her over, those penetrating eyes taking in her figure, her skin, her eyes. He could probably guess her weight to the ounce. “Eat,” Jack said. “Stop going hungry. You don’t want your dress to hang off of you. What will that do to your vanity?”
She narrowed her gaze on him, and he held out his hands in surrender. Begrudgingly she dug through her plate again and took a hearty bite of her sausage. “Are you happy now?”
“Maybe if you add some toast and eggs, love.”
Violet looked away to find Victor and Kate watching them as though it were a tennis match, their gazes darting between Violet and Jack. The twins stared at each other, in a silent battle, reading the other’s mind. Victor had enough worry in his gaze that she begrudgingly took another bite of sausage. His gaze softened and hers narrowed. Had Victor put Jack up to this? No, she thought as Jack watched her with his too-aware gaze.
She picked the crust off her toast and glanced at Jack, who had turned to his coffee, ignoring the paper to watch Violet eat the toast.
“We’ll be at the party,” he finally added to the conversation at hand. “Ham called me in for some consult or other, but I should be back in time. Shall I make reservations for dinner?”
“The party starts late,” Kate sighed. “Don’t they know that some of us are creating life?”
“Oh my dear, sacred vessel.” Violet laughed, eyeing her sister-in-law, who was glowing again, beautiful like a star. “Sacrifices must be made to meet the curiosity.”
Kate snorted as she handed Victor her a cup for a refill. “I think Algie would object to you referring to his beloved as a curiosity.”
“Our goal here,” Violet announced, “is to discover if she is beloved. Is it her? Or her money? Do any of the Americans realize he’s an idiot?” Violet gasped and leaned forward. “Could they know he’s an idiot and like him anyway?”
“Perhaps,” Victor mused as he handed Kate her English breakfast tea, heavy on the cream, “we like him because he’s a fool.”
Kate’s eyes widened, and then her wicked humor kicked in. “Let’s make a game of it.”
They all turned to Kate, who explained. “Whoever discovers the truth shall receive a prize. Is he marrying her for love or money?”
“What’s the prize?” Violet shot back.
“You choose for me, I’ll choose for you. Make it good,” Kate offered. “Very good.”
They both looked at Victor, who grinned. “I’m in.”
The three turned to Jack. “I don’t care if he’s marrying the American for her money.”
“Don’t you want the prize?” Violet grabbed his arm as though they were discussing a king’s ransom instead of a probable bottle of some kind of alcohol.
“I already have it.”
Violet shot him a disgusted look, though she was secretly delighted. “Cheeky lad. I’m meeting with my businessman shortly. I shall leave you to your boring…ah…ness.”
“Weak, sister,” Victor called, as Violet shut the door to the breakfast room and met Beatrice with her hat and a coat. After her meeting, Violet was having lunch with her friend, Rita Russell, at Hotel Saffron before returning home to make sure that Kate napped the afternoon away so she could enjoy the party. Kate was far too inclined to translate some book for the fun of it or spend the day reading about Scottish lavender or some other such nonsense. She needed to indulge in the wonder of a good nap more often.
Chapter Two
Violet’s dress for Algie’s party took her longer than she’d have liked. The truth was, as she faced her armoire she was weighing the fact that where her cousin, Algernon, showed up, his sometime-friend, sometime-enemy was too likely to appear. Theodophilus Smythe-Hill had been the man who taught Violet very clearly that women were physically weaker than men. Even though she knew that Jack and Victor would leap to her defense, the knowledge left her with a shiver of alarm.
She finally chose a black dress embroidered with black and silver. She wrapped her black pearls around her neck and loaded her wrists with her favorite diamond bangles. Her earbobs were large and eye-catching. There was no scenario where she went to her cousin’s party afraid of some random man who dared to place his hands on her once before. She wasn’t just going to go, she was going to go and shine.
Violet crimped her hair with the iron, leaving herself with marcel waves. She added dark shadow around her eyes, drew in her eyebrows, rouged and powdered her cheeks, and finished with a brilliant red lipstick. Her makeup, jewelry, and dress were the pinnacle of a Bright Young Thing.
Theo and all of his ilk could learn that women like Violet were not theirs to manhandle. For the sake of sheer common sense, however, she chose low heeled shoes that were easy to move in and a dress that allowed her freedom. If she were going to knee a man in his most delicate area, she was going to
do it with all the vigor she possessed.
Violet hurried down the steps and found that everyone else was waiting for her.
“Darling Vi!” Kate breathed, and then twirled her finger, demanding that Violet spin. She did so with a flourish. “Every man at the party will be envious of Jack!”
“They already are,” Victor said dryly. “They have been since they’ve heard the rumors of just how extensive Vi’s fortune is.”
Violet gasped as Kate elbowed Victor.
“Where is the party?” Jack asked as he held Violet’s coat for her.
“Hotel Saffron,” Victor replied. “The Americans took the second floor there since some heiress has the whole of the penthouse. Algie said that Mr. Roche was quite upset until he saw the second floor was as lush.”
Violet laughed. “I wonder if I saw Algie’s heiress earlier. I was there for lunch with Rita. She’s the one with the penthouse. She took it for two years, paid it outright, and then went to Yugoslovia. She moved in her books and all her adventuring gear and then fled after what happened with her aunt. She’s only just returned.”
“She didn’t move back in with her father?” Kate let Victor slide her into her fur coat before taking his arm. “I would have thought she would.”
Rita Russell’s very young stepmother had been murdered, which had uncovered the murder of Rita’s own mother. Before they realized it was the aunt who had done the killing, Rita and her father were the suspects.
“Mr. Russell sold the house he’d bought for Melody and moved to a hunting lodge in Scotland. Rita travels up rather often and goes fishing with him. They play rounds of golf and putter about whatever loch he lives by, and then she comes back to London where there are parties, Indian food, and you know…me.”