Wedding Vows & Murder

by Beth Byers

  “The loveliest soul I have ever seen.”

  Kate’s lips twitched.

  “Beautiful really. Like a sunset over the ocean. Like the moon with the merest wisps of clouds only emphasizing the light of the moon.”

  “Stop it,” Kate demanded.

  “Like a pearl in a perfect setting.”

  “You are terrible at this,” Victor told her. “I’m ashamed of you. As my twin, the greater twin, fools might say, I’d think you’d be better.”

  “Fools?” Violet snorted. “I suppose that might be accurate. You know I never saw you as the lesser twin. How could I when you somehow captured the heart of this splendid creature?”

  “Much better,” Kate said, seeming to feel a little better. “I did like that one.”

  “I’m clever,” Violet agreed. “Not as clever as Kate, of course, but clever enough.”

  “Now that was good, appealing to her vanity.” Victor winced when Kate shot him a nasty glance.

  “Darling Kate, sister of my heart,” Violet said, “favorite of my people. Swollen from growing a magical creature. Please, sweet one, please tie on these shoes and come to my party. I won’t have it without you, darling. Shall I cancel it? Put up a sign on the door? We’ll curl up here in your bedroom and eat chocolate and send Victor for trifle after trifle until he’s sweating and flustered.”

  “Perhaps…” Kate mused.

  “Doesn’t that sound fun? A good alternative if my ribbons aren’t long enough.” Violet’s sardonic voice sent her into giggles, and she ran from the room before Kate could throw the slipper. Violet shut the door behind her and heard the echo of the slipper hitting the wood.

  Chapter Six

  Their ballroom was ridiculous, Violet thought, as she spun in the center, taking in the display. The dark hardwood floors had been shined to the extent that the lights reflected in the wood. The chandeliers were half-lit and flickering. They probably should have had them wired with electric light, but Violet adored candlelight.

  A jazz band was setting up in the balcony that looked down onto the ballroom. Once upon a time a string quartet or something to that effect would have played there while debutantes spun in pale dresses on the floor below. For that evening, the band would wail songs while their friends roller-skated and indulged in cocktails, chocolates, and other small bites.

  It would be merry and fun, and add the flavor Violet wanted for her home. Frivolous and friendly with dashes of intellect. Violet smirked at her thoughts as she heard someone behind her.

  “It’s hard to believe we used to share that two-room flat, isn’t it?” Victor asked. “How things have changed.”

  Vi looked at her twin over her shoulder and lifted her brows in a silent question.

  “Kate decided to lie on the chaise lounge in your boudoir until everyone arrives. She’s got her feet propped up as though gravity will suction all that fluid out of her ankles.”

  Violet’s lips twitched, and she bit her bottom lip to stop her laugh.

  “It’s terrible,” Victor told her righteously, but she could see the devil in his gaze.

  “Terrible,” Violet agreed. “Just awful.”

  He coughed to hide his laugh, and a giggle escaped Violet.

  “Do you miss the flat days?” Violet asked, suddenly serious.

  Victor’s gaze flit over hers. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you? I’m not entirely sure Jack would let you go if you decided to scamper.”

  Violet shook her head. “It’s this place. It makes me think about the other places that felt like home. Only our rooms at Aunt Agatha’s, that horrid flat, and your house.”

  “This house will feel like home,” Victor told her. “I’m not sure mine will feel right with you even a few doors down.”

  Violet’s eyes burned at that admission. It was her largest worry too. “Shall we have sleepovers? There’s a likely bedroom in the other wing for you and Kate.”

  “Maybe we should just dig a tunnel from my house to yours.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?”

  Victor laughed. “We are heirs now. Rich, bright young things. What else would we do but dig a tunnel?”

  “Well,” Violet mused, “we could buy the houses between us, tear them down, and have a massive shared garden.”

  “Or rent them out but make a passage between our houses.”

  “Maybe we could just sublet the back of their gardens for our secret alley.”

  “Or build a bridge? Some arch over the two gardens to ease our transit.”

  “Or,” Jack said from the doorway, “you could—and I’m just throwing out ideas here—use the sidewalk.”

  “But then people would know we were sneaking to visit each other at 3:00 a.m.”

  “They already know that. Midnight story plans, random pranks, fighting just to see the other one blow their top. Everyone who knows you knows that neither of you have any boundaries. Not even when normal people sleep.”

  Violet and Victor hooked their arms together and asked in unison, “So?”

  Victor glanced at Vi, smirked, and added, “He’s holding grudges because I woke you up the other day to help me figure out the problem with the detective story.”

  Jack laughed. “Just commenting on facts.”

  “Are those Christmas light strands?” Victor asked to change the subject, since facts inevitably won fights.

  “They are.” Violet reached up to the French doors that were framed in Christmas lights. “Are they frivolous? Or too much?”

  “Appropriately frivolous for a roller-skating in the ballroom party with jazz and cocktails. The tables with the vases are, perhaps, too staid for this party.”

  Violet ignored him. She liked the dichotomy between the traditional decor and the light strands. “Don’t forget the chocolate, and the odd little mouthfuls that the cook is making us to go along with shrimp pots and mushroom toast.”

  The doorbell rang. Victor checked his watch. “Oh look,” he said, “now you’re the hosts. Are you up for it, pretty devil?”

  “I’m just going to pretend I am,” she told her twin, grinning at his matching face. His own grin echoed hers.

  “That’s what I’ve been doing.” Victor shook hands with Jack as he added, “Congratulations on the house, old top. The house, the party, the wife-to-be. I can assure you that you’ll never be bored.”

  “I’ve noticed that bit,” Jack said. “Are you handing her over then?”

  Victor shook his head. “She’ll always be mine. I’ll always be hers. I guess I’ll just take you too.”

  “What’s all this?” a voice from the ballroom door asked. “Seriousness? Who loves who best? You all love me best,” their friend Denny declared from the doorway. He smoothed back his hair and adjusted his coat. He’d been trimming down since Ham started, as if admitting he didn’t want to be the chubbiest of the group. It only spurred Ham on. “Head’s up, lads. There were others behind us.”

  Lila, his wife, glanced his way and lifted both of her brows. “Laddie, even I don’t love you best. Vi, my favorite, it’s only Isolde and Tomas. No need to worry yet.”

  Denny clutched his heart and then told Victor, “Get to the cocktails, old man. I need a good one.”

  “We’ve hired a barman,” Jack told Denny. “So Victor can play with Vi and girl Friday for his wife.”

  “Don’t be daft, man. The barman is for the plebeians. I want a Victor cocktail.”

  “Oh it looks lovely!” Isolde said, entering the ballroom. “I think my mother would turn over in her grave, were she dead, if she knew you weren’t standing at the door to greet your friends.”

  “Oh ho!” Victor crowed. “Now Violet will be at a loss of where to greet them. Darling, will you go downstairs? Stand in the doorway of the ballroom? Abandon the greetings, strap on roller skates, and thoughtlessly enjoy yourself?”

  Violet shot Victor a useless quelling look and then asked Jack, “Shall we stand here as they come into the ballroom?”

  “I
have no idea,” Jack told her. “Tell me where you want me.”

  They awkwardly took up position near the doors of the ballroom with Isolde, who seemed to be the only one who had any idea how to handle greeting friends as they entered. It wasn’t their first party, but in their own home, it seemed to warrant something more official.

  Isolde and Tomas were followed by their eldest brother, Gerald. Ham and Rita came in at the same time, seemingly by accident. Rita was laughing at something Ham said before she leaned in and kissed the air next to Violet’s cheek to prevent a brick red smudge.

  “Look,” Rita said, “we’re lipstick twins.”

  “I’m so excited to join in on the frivolities, Vi!” Isolde said, spinning. “What fun this is.”

  Victor handed the earliest arrivals cocktails before allowing the barman to take over. Violet accepted her bee’s knees in one of the new cocktail glasses she’d bought just weeks ago. The pretty glass seemed to make the sweet, honeyed taste of her drink particularly delightful.

  A whole slew of more casual friends arrived, interspersed by her cousin with his American family, including the father, who shot both Violet and Jack an angry look before taking a cocktail and refusing roller skates. It wasn’t until the party was in full swing that Violet finally met Bartholomew and his fiancé, Gertrude. The girl, with a low bun, a pursed mouth, and stiff shoulders, shook her head at both the offered cocktail and the roller skates, and her love only hid his irritation at her circumspect choices when she couldn’t see him.

  “True love,” Lila muttered to Violet and Rita. They’d all caught the interaction between the couple before Barty took her away for some air in the gardens.

  “I’m not saying I want to live the teetotaler life.” Rita tucked a stray hair back into her headpiece and adjusted her scarlet red dress. “But I will say that if you don’t want to live it either, then don’t marry a woman who does.”

  “He’s not marrying her for her values,” Lila said, without trying to adjust her tone. “He’s after her for her money. It’s as clear on the nose on her face.”

  “Mmmm,” Rita agreed.

  “I don’t care,” Violet lied, then considered. “No, I actually don’t care. Not right now. It’s time for roller skates and refills, loves. Only Kate gets a pass at playing with me on the dance floor…skating floor? Whatever is the official term?”

  “If it isn’t love,” Lila said, ignoring Vi’s question, “do you think she knows? Why does she want him? Is she in love and hoping she can change him? I always despise when women think they can change some poor lad to make them what they want. Marry the man in front of you.”

  “I’m not sure I want to marry,” Rita said as she put on her skates. It was a thoughtless aside before she added, “Now, before you scold me, I think you should know that despite having seen lions in their natural habitat, having ridden elephants on multiple occasions, and once having had a monkey as a pet, I have never roller-skated.”

  “Uh oh,” Lila said. “You need help.”

  “You know who’s very good? Shockingly so?” Violet glanced around the room for Ham, met his gaze easily since he was looking their way, and then waved him over. “Hamilton Barnes.”

  Violet handed Rita into Ham’s willing hands and then turned to Lila, who slowly lifted an eyebrow.

  “And just,” Lila said, “after hearing her say she didn’t want to marry. Lady Violet, you interfering minx! If ever a man was made for marriage and family, it’s that one. He’s already half in love with Kate’s baby and has stars in his eyes when he looks at Rita.”

  “I just want my friends to be friends,” Violet lied with a wink. She stood up carefully on her own skates. “I’m two cocktails in. Shall I break my ankle before the wedding, do you think? How elegant shall I be on crutches and a train to my dress?”

  Lila lifted a brow at someone behind Vi, and she felt the press of a large warm body against hers. Almost a living wall. She grinned up at him, still facing the other way.

  “What do you think? Shall I break myself and we’ll have to call things off?”

  “You can’t escape me that easily,” Jack told her as Violet lost her balance and her feet started to shoot out from her. He caught her easily.

  “I’d hobble down the aisle, darling. No need to worry on that front.” As she spoke, Jack lifted her, turning her and providing a steady arm.

  Jack wasn’t wearing skates but his grip let Violet spin out with an arm to the ceiling. Her dress twirled around her legs and she spun back to him, noting that Lila stepped away to Denny, who wore skates and spun her onto the floor.

  “Shall we learn how to tango on our honeymoon?” she asked Jack.

  “If you want.” He grinned at her. For once, he wasn’t hiding his expressions. Usually only she, maybe Victor, and almost certainly Ham saw what Jack truly felt. Tonight, however, there was a lightness in his gaze, an overt happiness that set her heart afloat. “Whatever you want.”

  “I want to tango. Then I want to tango in Spain. We’ll be put to shame by those who were born with the tango in their blood, but it will be fun anyway.”

  “All right,” he said, sending her spinning and catching her before she fell. “I suppose we can do that. Shall we run with the bulls?”

  As he caught her against his chest after a particularly wild spin, she asked him, “Are we going to Spain on our honeymoon? Is that why you’re so willing?”

  He grinned at her and shrugged without an answer.

  Her gaze narrowed on his, but—if anything—his amusement became more apparent, his grin wider, the smirk in his gaze all the brighter. Violet placed both hands against his chest, glanced behind her, and pushed off. She had caught the rhythm of the skates and was almost dancing on wheels as the next song started.

  Jack let her escape him as she joined the dancing skaters. The trumpeter was simply fabulous. The music wailed over the ballroom, and when Violet paused against the wall, catching her breath, she could see that her friends were having fun.

  There was laughter in the air, thickened with smoke from cigarettes and candles. The crowd around the bar wasn’t so thick that people were waiting a long time, but someone had assigned another servant, and Violet would see that the servant was working as a girl Friday to the barman, keeping things running smoothly while the expertise was working.

  Violet caught sight of the ballroom’s chaise lounge. There was a small table next to the lounge, but both of them had been abandoned, and she spied Victor dancing with Kate. They were more to the side of ballroom away from some of the wilder roller skaters, but Victor suddenly stopped, pulling Kate into his body.

  Violet expected to see her brother kiss his wife senseless, but instead, he turned, tucking Kate behind in that protective move Violet knew so well. The spaniel front that Victor normally wore faded, and Violet felt a flash of alarm. Her gaze darted about the room, looking for the threat, and stopped in horror when she saw Jack.

  Jack held a struggling Theo by one arm.

  She could hear his rage. He was shouting so loud that people had back away, forming a circle. Violet dropped to her knee and pulled off her skates as quickly as she could.

  “We all know you’re marrying her for the money. Stupid woman that she is, she doesn’t even know it. Do you want to tell her? Tell her how you were engaged once before? Tell her how you loved Emily Allen? That you might as well have been living together with all that entails.”

  Violet could feel the gazes on her. She wanted to close her eyes and take in what had just been said, but there were too many gazes on her, with even the band clanging to a stop. With focus, she breathed easily, but each careful movement was painful. She wouldn’t let this snake ruin her. No one needed to know that she was withering inside.

  Violet both knew the frantic, wild-eyed fury of Theo’s expression and the cold, rigid rage of Jack’s. His gaze landed on hers, and she knew that the statement was true. He had been sleeping with Miss Allen before she’d thrown him over. And not
how he slept with Vi.

  Violet wanted to call to Victor to help Jack to get Theo and his poison away. Theo’s ringing, hate-filled laugh reached her like the pounding of fists, and she broke her nail on her skate. She pulled it off and slowly rose to her feet.

  The entire room was facing her, and Theo laughed hysterically.

  “Look at her. Did I break your heart, Lady Violet? You think you’re so good. So clever. So smart. You’re just another stupid—” The word he used was cut off by Jack’s hand over his mouth, but she knew what Theo had said, and it had been foul.

  “Victor!” Violet called to her brother, who had shaken off his shock and made his way to her. “Help Jack remove the trash.”

  Theo reached out and grabbed a vase from one of the pedestal tables, slinging it wildly at Jack, but Jack ducked as Theo let go, and it crashed onto the floor. The few who hadn’t noticed the fisticuffs noticed it then.

  Before Victor could reach him, Jack had already hauled Theo to the French doors. Theo fought wildly, grabbing onto the doorframe of the door and catching only the cord of the electric light strand. He yanked it free, sending the glass bulbs into a spray of sharp pieces across the wooden floors.

  One of the weaker women shrieked while Lila’s lazy muse cut through the shock with a, “Well that will be expensive. It’s a good thing Vi and Jack are so rich. Someone send for a broom. What nonsense and vile hatred.”

  Violet appreciated Lila’s quick lies on Jack’s behalf. Vi nodded at a servant, “Clean it up, please.”

  “You there,” Isolde called. “Turn up the lights. You, start that band back up. Nothing to worry about, everyone.” She called merrily. “Just a jealous drunk who needs some fresh air.”

  It took several measures for the band to catch their rhythm. Violet stared in shock after Jack. They were supposed to christen their house with frivolity, fun, and friendship. Not…not that!

  She wasn’t thinking about the other part of it. When people had stopped staring at her, she let herself close her eyes and take in a deep breath before putting back on her own happy mask. Spaniel? Fluff-headed fool? Whatever mask she wore, she hoped it sold her unconcern.