Wedding Vows & Murder

by Beth Byers

  “Are you angry?” Jack asked. His tone was carefully neutral.

  Bloody hell, she thought, trying to keep her face blank. Was she angry? Of course she was! She was furious. She was ‘shake her fist in the face of God’ angry. She was furiously, blasphemously, brokenly angry. She was so angry it hurt. She was so angry she felt like a cracked vase a breath from falling to pieces. She was all of those things.

  Rage was an ache in her stomach, acid in her throat. It was a burning in her heart and in her eyes, and she knew it wasn’t his fault. Her eyes welled with tears again, and she nodded. She didn’t have the words to put to her emotions. Not when the fury was a tide that carried along with it terror of broken dreams, desperate, longing love, horrible fear that crafting the perfect beginning for their lives meant that they would lose all their chances at happiness.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  She shook her head frantically, trying to find some way to convey her thoughts. They were too complex for sheer words. There was experience and hopes and dreams and fears and love, such deep abiding love, all wrapped up in her feelings.

  He sat down in the deep, cushioned chair near the fire and watched her. She shifted on the window seat in her pajamas and kimono. Bare-faced, dry-eyed, and chilled at the distance between them.

  Their gazes were locked together, seemingly trying to speak to each other telepathically and unable to link their minds and hearts.

  Slowly, Jack opened his arms. Vi whimpered at the sight of his wide arms, and she flew across the carpet and leapt into them. He hugged her so hard that she was crushed, and nothing had ever felt better. She trembled against him and realized he was shaking too. He was speaking, but she heard only the rushing of her blood and the pounding of his heart against her chest.

  Finally, he stopped speaking and just rubbed her back, humming under his breath. Her trembling had stopped, and she felt as though it were possible to speak without crying. The case against him was strong, she knew. Together, they were stronger.

  “Your family is going to be upset,” Jack said. “My father is already in town, but I sent a boy over with a note. He’ll be upset too, of course, but…”

  “He won’t think it’s a good time to finally rid himself of you.” Violet wound their fingers together. “Lady Eleanor will be by sooner or later crowing about how she was right about you, and it’s time to flee to America or Greece or somewhere else.”

  “How are we going to do this, Vi? I know you didn’t want to cry earlier, but why do I feel like you’re mad at me? Is it Em?”

  “Don’t call her that to me,” Violet told him. “No, it’s not Emily. Was I upset that I found out the details of your life with her as they were shouted across our party? Yes. But, I could have guessed if I’d bothered to wonder about it.”

  “Then why am I in trouble?”

  “I’m not mad at you.” She trailed her finger along his chest, watching the press of her nail against his evening clothes to avoid looking at his gaze, but he knew her too well for that.

  Jack pressed his finger under her chin and slowly tilted her face to his. “Who has raised your ire?”

  “The world,” Violet snapped, letting out all the rage she was trying to hold back. “Theo, Roche, Algie, Victor, you, me, God himself. I want to shake my fist at the heavens, stomp my feet, have a good cry, and then pelt everyone with a rock. We’re good people, aren’t we?”

  Jack nodded, and he whispered against her forehead before he pressed a kiss on her temple. “You are.”

  “I try to be good. I take care of orphans. I give to worthy causes. I hire former soldiers. I don’t take advantage of the poor with my money. Why is this happening to us? Why are we so close to happiness only to have it yanked away? Why do I feel like we were so close this morning and now there’s an abyss—”

  Jack cut off Vi with a fervent kiss to her lips that didn’t end for quite some time and left her both breathless and trembling. “There’s no abyss we can’t cross, Vi. Not as long as we’re together.”

  She curled into his lap. “I’m just angry,” she whispered.

  “I can deal with angry or woebegone. As long as you’re still mine.”

  “Always,” Vi swore, hoping she wasn’t causing that same mischievous sprite to test her resolution once again. She told him her plan while she sat with him in her bedroom. The door was open, and she could tell that despite the risk to their ever-after, Jack wasn’t going to let whoever killed Theo ruin the plans he’d already laid out.

  When they came together finally, it wasn’t going to be because they were afraid they’d never get the chance. Violet hid a flash of disappointment as they took to her bed, and she let him hold her despite still wearing his evening clothes. They slept in each other’s arms, and they both woke with a resolution to chip away at the crime until it was left in nothingness.

  “Are we expecting your stepmother this morning?”

  “Gerald should be able to buy us a day,” Violet told Jack, pressing a kiss to his face before snuggling back down and breathing him in. She luxuriated in his arms, swearing she’d never take moments like these for granted again. It had become her life so quickly she’d forgotten there had been a time she’d woken alone and scared from nightmares every night. Violet pushed herself to a sitting position.

  She had a lot to do to today and she suspected Jack had even more. He squeezed her hand before he left to change clothes. Violet dressed with Beatrice running into the bedroom the moment Jack left.

  “They’re delivering what you asked for now, my lady. I’ve got everything you need, I think. Mr. Carlyle was up early and he’s already appearing with blokes in hand. They’re having breakfast while they wait for you.”

  Violet nodded, leaving behind all but her engagement ring again. She was dressed for business in a grey sailor-style dress with grey stockings and sturdy shoes. She felt as though she could go for a long ramble or sit through a business meeting, and she really had no idea what the day was going to lay before her.

  Violet hurried down the stairs and found Victor stepping out of the breakfast room.

  “Darling devil, I’ll have Hargreaves bring a tray to the parlor, shall I? Jack is talking to the blokes we’ve brought in.”

  “Is he telling them to do what it takes or to obey all laws?”

  “The latter,” Victor said with a wicked grin. “I made it clear I was paying them, and I expected results whatever the cost.”

  “Favorite brother.” Vi tucked her arm through his elbow. “How are Kate and Violet Junior?”

  “Vi Junior has taken it easier on her mother.” Victor’s lips twitched. “Kate’s feet are mostly back to normal. She’s still decided to curl up in bed with her feet propped up until she’s needed.”

  Violet winced and then admitted, “I might need her to take on Lady Eleanor.”

  Victor paused and their gazes met. His mouth twisted. “I suppose one of us must. I have another idea, but it’s evil.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes,” Violet told him.

  “Isolde is expecting.”

  Violet froze, staring at him. It would be quite evil to reveal Isolde’s status as an expectant mother to distract her mother. However, if there was anything that could get Lady Eleanor to abandon all consideration of Vi or Victor, it was Lady Eleanor’s children.

  “Isolde might help us out on her own.”

  Victor’s head cocked. “I’ll take care of it. One way or the other. We’ll get rid of Lady Eleanor until this is over.”

  Violet nodded and left him to go to the parlor. Beatrice was there and waiting. She’d already taken Violet’s list of people she’d made last night and combined it with the guest list and the list from the police. The names of the people had been transcribed onto the eight chalkboards that had been delivered that morning.

  Violet walked along the list of names, reading over them and thinking of what she knew. “How many are there?” Violet asked.

  “Eighty-seven,” Beatri
ce replied.

  Violet nodded. “How many didn’t have someone else account for their whereabouts the evening before?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “What about those on the guest list that weren’t there when the police arrived.”

  “Nine more,” Beatrice said softly. She had been taking typing classes and helping Violet with far more than her gowns in the last few months. Beyond that, she was naturally clever. Violet didn’t need to explain twenty-seven names and four days before her wedding. The honeymoon and the wedding could be moved, but she was very much afraid that if they weren’t able to find the truth by then, they’d never find it at all.

  Possibly, very possibly, by using the very powerful people they could employ and the best defenses available, they’d be able to keep Jack out of jail, let alone the hangman’s noose. But he’d never work again for Scotland Yard, and he’d be plagued by rumors. It would chase even their children.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Oh,” Denny gasped, eyes wide and spinning as he took in the room with the chalkboards, the lists of names, the board with motives listed and room for names under each of the most common reasons for murder. “It’s like all the dreams I didn’t know to dream have come true.” He glanced at the six private detectives, Ham, Jack, and then shook his head. He whispered loudly, “They’re so serious.”

  “Take a seat, my lad,” Lila told him dryly. “Try to contain your joy.”

  “Violet,” Denny amended, “I am only semi-joyful. If anyone else were the main suspect, I’d be giddy. I admit it. I swear I’m appropriately serious. Jack, you believe me, don’t you?”

  Jack just lifted his brows and sipped his coffee. His mask was in full play, and he was enigmatically silent.

  Violet glanced around the room, surprised that Jack and Ham weren’t trying to take over, but she realized that Ham couldn’t—not and maintain an ethical hand on the case in Scotland Yard. Jack, on the other hand, trusted her.

  She stood and met everyone’s gazes. Kate and Victor were sitting at the back of the room. Jack and Ham were at the front, side-by-side. They’d been discussing matters quietly. Rita had arrived and was near the corner, ready to aid in whatever was necessary. Gerald had sent a note saying he would take care of Lady Eleanor for the day, but the earl had arrived. He sat at the very back of the room next to Rita and watched Violet expectantly. With Lila and Denny sitting near the refreshments and Beatrice at the ready, nearly every single person Violet trusted and loved was in the room ready to help her, along with several private detectives they’d hired and her own man of business and his assistant.

  “You’ve all been apprised of the circumstances. We’re working from the absolute surety that Jack did not kill Theo. If you can’t work towards helping us to prove that, you need to leave now.”

  No one left.

  “Lovely.” Violet smiled woodenly and then turned to her man of business. “We’re also on a timeline, gentlemen and ladies. Jack and I are supposed to get married on Saturday. I realize that’s only three days if you count today, and we’re counting every minute.”

  There was a little shuffling, but Violet ignored it and glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on her man of business. “Mr. Fredericks, can you peel apart Theo’s finances? Using connections and whatnots?”

  He paused. No doubt what she was asking was a rather unethical endeavor, but when she waited, he nodded.

  “Whatever you can find, please. Whatever staffing you need to use. Whatever extra pay is necessary. We need to know, if possible, everything.”

  “I’ll try,” he said. “If it can be found, I’ll find it.”

  She nodded and turned to the rest of the group. “These are the names,” Violet told them. “People who were invited or we saw after the party. That doesn’t mean someone didn’t crash our party, leave just after Jack dragged Theo out, and not come back.”

  “It only takes a moment to murder someone if you know what you’re doing,” one of the private investigators said. “Someone could have easily murdered Smythe-Hill in a moment and come back inside, joining the party and deliberately ensuring they were seen.”

  “There could be a faux-alibi in that mix of names,” a man with a missing arm agreed, gesturing with his remaining hand to the boards with the entirety of all the names from all the lists. “There’s also the chance that the victim was thrown out by Mr. Wakefield and returned to meet someone for a previously arranged assignation.”

  Violet nodded. She didn’t disagree at all and those options were haunting her. “That’s why we’re going to lay Theo’s life bare and know his every secret by the time this is done. We’re starting with the names here.”

  “Vi,” Jack said, “the local boys make notes of things. They take note of who goes where. This street is well-protected. The local bobby is a good man, and he does his job well. He’d have noticed who was going where. Even with the party, if we can narrow down the list for him, he can help us.”

  “That’s a job for the police,” Ham cut in. “They’ll do all they can to cover that angle. You can be assured that I’ll be riding the detective and his team hard. They won’t mess things up. You boys aren’t here for that,” he told the private detectives.

  They really weren’t, Vi thought. She glanced at the private detectives. “Which one of you is the most likely to break the rules?”

  They stared at her in silence. A couple of them shifted and a few glances were tossed among themselves as if they were assessing each other, but no one spoke a word.

  “Ham and Jack will forget the answer after this case, and for this case—it’s what I’m looking for.”

  They were silent for a moment longer, then a slender, golden man raised his hand. “I’ll be as disreputable as you need, my lady.”

  Vi nodded and glanced at the others. “Do any of you disagree that he’ll be disreputable?”

  The only answers were a sarcastic snort and a few head shakes. Lila laughed and rose. She started making notes on the board.

  “You’re kind of pretty for being a rogue,” Vi told the disreputable private detective, who was grinning widely. She grinned back and Jack shifted. Violet ignored him. He had little real cause for jealousy, but if he wanted to be possessive in front of the devil who looked like an angel, Violet would be Jack’s willing audience.

  “Delightful,” Violet told the angel-devil. “Your job is to take Theo’s private life apart in all the ways. Break into his rooms, his friends’ rooms, his enemies’ rooms, his club. If you need snooty clothes, raid my brother’s closet. If you need help getting into the clubs, Denny or Victor will take you. Dig, break, steal, whatever you need to do. You’re not going to trace any of these leads, you’re coming at the case from the other side. Find every sign of every person who might have hated or loved Theo enough to murder him.”

  The angel-devil shifted and his grin widened. She lifted her brows in question and he said, “So few realize that you kill who you love as much as who you hate.”

  “Sadly,” Violet told them all, “this is not my first experience with murder.”

  He gave her a quizzical glance. She cared little if she was a puzzle to him as long as he worked on discovering all of Theo’s secrets.

  “Find every single enemy he had, every person he might have been blackmailing, and utterly disregard the law.”

  “Violet,” Jack warned, leaning forward.

  Vi ignored him and met the angel-devil’s gaze. “Name?”

  “John Smith,” he said.

  Vi’s lips twitched. “Of course it is. Keep in touch with Victor. Ham won’t tell you to break the law, and Jack will tell you not to. Victor doesn’t care. I want a full picture of Theo’s life. If you can get it to me in less than a day—and it’s accurate—I’ll pay you extra. Send me anything relevant the moment you find it.”

  Denny laughed. “Violet darling, you are my favorite.” He rose and joined his wife, taking his own piece of chalk and adding his own notes. They were working
on two of the eight chalkboards.

  Smith nodded and she lifted a brow. “Go. You don’t need to be here for the rest of this.”

  Violet turned to the others. “We have twenty-seven names that don’t have easy alibis. We’re starting there, but so will Scotland Yard. I don’t care what the Yard knows. We need to know if any of these folks might have had a reason to kill Theo and if any of them has an alibi we don’t know about. We need this list manageable. All of you send information as you have it. We don’t have time to delay.”

  Violet had Beatrice hand out the lists to four of the remaining detectives. The lists included what they knew of the names, such as addresses, family, and rumors. They left a moment later.

  There was but one investigator left. Ham had told her that Davey Milton was former military police. With his missing arm, he wasn’t able to work for the Yard. She met his gaze, and he met hers without hesitation.

  “Did you know Jack in the war?”

  Milton nodded, a quick formal thing.

  “Do you think he killed Theo?”

  “Under the circumstances I heard?” He shook his head. “Never.”

  “You’re Ham’s man. Do whatever he thinks needs doing that Ham can’t do himself. It’ll be the stuff he can’t assign to the Yard. Is that acceptable to you?”

  Ham and Milton left, Ham speaking quietly to the last investigator. Violet took in a shaky breath. She’d saved herself the Roches, but she wasn’t going to be able to leave the house without speaking to her father.

  Would he support her and Jack or would he try to get her to leave Jack? A century ago, she wouldn’t have been given a choice. Her gaze met his but his expression was unreadable. She glanced at Jack and then back at her father. Jack nodded. They would do this together—whatever it was.

  “We’ll help Denny and Lila narrow down and sort what we’ve learned so far on the people who were present. We need to put it all together and get rid of all the useless chaff.” Violet glanced and saw that Lila had completely crossed out some names while other names—regardless of alibis—were receiving motives and details.