by Beth Byers
“I’m going to call my sister in,” Lila said. “Some of these names here are in her set, including this fellow, Lyle Longfellow. Martha has spent rather a frequent evening with Lyle and his friends, and she was there last night. She won’t lie, and I can pin her down on some of these fellows.”
Violet winced, but she’d do whatever was necessary. Victor, however, groaned. Martha had once thrown herself at him with an eye on his fortune. Since that day, she still seemed to think she had a chance with Victor even though he was married.
Violet crossed to her father and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Hello, Father. I’m glad you came.”
Father waited for a long moment, his gaze passing back and forth. “Your stepmother thinks that I should put my noble foot down and demand you end this ridiculous engagement and save yourself and our family name.”
“Interesting,” Violet told him, flatly. Her tone and expression made her thoughts clear.
Father smiled gently, but his eyes were apologizing already for what he had to say. “Violet…” Combined with his gaze, her father’s tone told her all she needed to know about where he stood. She glanced at Jack and saw his jaw flex—he’d seen the same as she.
Her heart clenched.
“I didn’t kill Smythe-Hill, sir,” Jack said. He might as well have been commenting on the weather.
“I don’t doubt that,” her father replied. “Choices, however, must be made. This is an interesting operation and one I hope works. Yet, you could fail. If you don’t find the killer, the world will blame Jack regardless. That’s not…”
Violet met her father’s gaze. She’d never realized until that moment that she and Victor had their father’s eyes. In every other way, they took after their mother. Vi hoped that with matching eyes, he’d see her utter rejection of what he was about to say.
“Violet,” Father said again, more firmly. “Hard choices must be made. Your stepmother and I are concerned about your life and your happiness if Jack isn’t exonerated. There’s more than just this moment to think of, you realize. There’s yourself, your children, your siblings, our name. Geoffrey still has his life to create. He’s in school where things are hard with a suspected murderer in the family. Gerald isn’t married yet. The right young women won’t marry into a family with a killer.”
Violet slowly rose. “Father, the entirety of my life you have chosen everyone else but Victor and I. You handed us to Aunt Agatha—and looking back, I’m grateful. But you still handed us over. I don’t remember Peter and Lionel’s faces because I so rarely saw them.”
Father blinked, starting to speak, but Violet didn’t let him. She was not finished.
“I won’t lie and say that I don’t care what you choose, and I suppose I won’t be surprised if you don’t choose me once again. It turns out that when it comes right down to it, I know who my family is.” She glanced at Lila and Denny carefully making notes on the chalkboards. At Rita who knew far less of those names than the others, but Vi knew that Rita would do what she could. She glanced at Kate and Victor, and finally at Jack. “I won’t abandon the man I love for the wants of a stepmother who doesn’t even like me, a father who has never made me a priority, a wart of a younger brother who is already half-ruined by your wife. Isolde is already happy, and I have little doubt she won’t abandon me or Victor. Gerald is a rich, future earl. Notoriety will just make him more interesting.”
“Violet!” Father snapped—too loud—because everyone turned their way. “There are matters you aren’t considering.”
“No,” Violet hissed back, winding her fingers through Jack’s. “Father, I have loved you despite the way you tossed Victor and me aside—”
“You were happier with Agatha. The first visit was to just get a handle on your grief. A change of scenery,” Father said, voice cracking. “I didn’t want you to go. My God, I adored your mother. I miss her daily. I see her in your face, and it kills me every time. Despite all that, I’d have wanted nothing more than to watch every second of your life. Only you were happier with Agatha. You blossomed. Agatha was magical with you. I didn’t throw you away; I let you go.”
“There’s no scenario where I leave Jack,” Violet told her father precisely. “Even if he is arrested, even if they…” Violet couldn’t finish the statement, but Jack pressed her hand as if he knew that losing him would demolish whatever happiness this life could have provided.
“Did you really adore our mother?” Victor asked quietly. None of them had noticed him approaching.
“If I could have given my life for hers, I would have,” their father said, glancing between them as if surprised by the question. “I would have given my kingdom, all that I had, save my children, to save her. Even now, just for a day with her, I’d give up all I have. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize you didn’t know that. I should have realized you had no idea. How could you?”
Victor shook off the answer, even though both of them were snatching up the words and hiding them inside of their hearts. “Then you have a perfect understanding of how Violet feels, Father. You wouldn’t have abandoned our mother. Violet won’t abandon Jack. The only choice to be made is yours. We—” Victor gestured to himself, Vi, Jack, Kate, and the baby. “We’ve already chosen.”
Father leaned back. “Vi…”
She wasn’t capable of speech at that moment. She was trying her hardest to hold on to her emotions until after Jack was free. This…whatever this was…it wasn’t helping.
The earl glanced among all of them and deflated. Whatever superior air that had been fed to him with his mother’s milk faded and all that was left was a man. Their father, who was half a stranger, never seemed so far lost to them than when he realized that they would choose Jack. No matter the cost that the earl exacted, they would choose Jack every time.
The earl took in a deep breath with a shudder. “I—” He paused, glancing among them, and then he said something Violet wouldn’t have expected. “I always liked you for Violet, Jack. Eleanor hates the sheer idea of you, but Violet isn’t Isolde, who would fall in love with any man who needed her. You don’t bore Vi. You protect her. She writes her books and drags you to Cuba. She has her parties and you dance with her despite the roller skates. She’s happier when you’re around.”
Jack shifted a little, as did Victor, but Violet was frozen. She hadn’t realized her father knew about their roller-skate parties. She hadn’t realized he’d taken note of how much she loved to write. She hadn’t realized—she’d never even realized herself until that moment—that she had been bored by those who had tried to pursue her before. She’d had no idea that her father knew her so very well. Her eyes were burning with tears again, and she bit down hard on her poor, bruised bottom lip as her father smiled gently at her.
“I’m sorry.” He met her gaze when he said it, and his voice was clear and even. “I never should have let Eleanor convince me.” He ran his hands over his thinning hair. “This isn’t an easy road, Violet. I only want to protect you. It’s what parents want to do even when it’s the wrong thing.”
Violet glanced at Jack, and he said so very gently, “Believe him. If I thought you’d leave me, I’d try to convince you to. I want the easier road for you too.”
Violet’s gaze widened, and her mouth dropped.
“Your father is right, Vi. If I’m not exonerated, the whispers will never stop.”
She started to tell him she didn’t care, but he stopped her by cupping her cheek and letting his thumb run along her bottom lip.
“I know,” he told her. “I know you won’t leave me. We might be very different creatures, Vi, but at our hearts, we’re the same. I wouldn’t leave you either, and leaving you will never be the easier road for me. Never.”
“Never,” she swore. “Never!”
Chapter Twelve
“Where’s your father?” the earl asked Jack, once Violet finally looked away.
“He’s buying the press, I believe,” Jack admitted, flushing. “Leading them t
o report on the kind of man Theo was rather than on the suspect at hand. He says he doubts it’ll work for long.”
Violet’s father nodded, and to her utter shock Father stood and his hand snaked out to pull her against his chest. “Someone killed Theo. We’ll find the man.”
Violet stood stiffly in her father’s arms for a moment before she relaxed and hugged him back before escaping to Jack.
The earl excused himself a few minutes later, muttering, “Wakefield isn’t the only man with connections to flex.”
“What are you doing, Father?” Violet asked.
“Never you mind,” he said. “These are the types of things you don’t admit to doing.”
Violet pressed herself against Jack the moment her father left. She was shuddering, holding on to all of her emotions, which were in a cyclone, and she didn’t have time for it.
“Are you all right, my love? That was intense, and he isn’t even my father.”
Violet nodded a lie and then pulled away. Time to focus on other things. She could have sleepless nights wondering if her father really had adored her mother. If he really had let her and Victor go because of love rather than the lack of it. To wonder if he’d watched her from afar, loving her the entire time, and somehow forgetting to help her see.
Violet physically shook off her thoughts, pressed a kiss on Jack’s jaw, and then crossed to the chalkboards where Lila was muttering instructions and flipping through the pages of notes from the interviews the police had conducted the day before.
“What have you done?” Violet asked, gesturing to the board where Lila and Beatrice were making notes and Kate was reading through the stack of what they had uncovered so far.
“While your father did the expected and then the very unexpected?” Denny asked, almost bouncing on his toes. “That moment was a….it was a thing of beauty. Better than any play. I was reeling, darling one. Simply reeling. When we weren’t knocked sideways? We were—ah—darting glances at one another, biting our tongues, dying to speak, manfully holding back exclamations of shock and awe.”
Violet rubbed her forehead, wondering why she liked Denny as much as she did. “With the names, of course, you nitwit.”
“These ones that are crossed out,” Lila answered, elbowing her husband aside, “they’re the names of people that I’m certain didn’t kill Theo.”
“How certain?”
“Very,” Lila said clearly.
Violet waited, gesturing for Lila to explain. There could be no mistakes.
Lila nodded, understanding. “They really do have good alibis. For example, Helen Nathans, who was absolutely chasing Paul Lansing the entire evening. They both claimed to be together in their separate interviews with the police.” Lila flipped to the notes that Beatrice had transcribed the night before. “Helen would have very definitely noticed if Paul had left even for a few moments. He alibied her as well, but he might not have noticed if she disappeared.”
Denny scoffed. “He was trying to shake her loose. He was with that married couple who strays on each other constantly.”
Lila nodded. “Helen did say that for the time period after Jack left, she and Paul had been speaking with Amelia and Nigel Banks. As Amelia steps out on Nigel and Paul was an easy conquest who would have welcomed such a dalliance, you can be assured that Helen was well aware of exactly where Paul and Amelia were for the whole of the evening. With that backstory and the agreeing but separate statements to the police, I think we can be sure they didn’t kill Theo. Besides, a couple who strays like that isn’t an easy mark for blackmail. Everyone knows what they’ve been up to, and the two of them don’t care. Helen’s money is secured, and she’d never fall for Theo’s nonsense. She’s way too straight-forward for Theo. Paul would absolutely end up in Theo’s clutches, but he has three people agreeing on his whereabouts during the murder.”
“Darling love, chocolate of my heart,” Denny said, nuzzling Lila’s cheek, “you’ve a little Violet Carlyle in you right now.”
Lila rolled her eyes and ignored Denny. “I’ve crossed a lot of those names off. Just cleaning up who we don’t need to worry about. We’ll need to find those like Garfield Ives who is quiet fellow and he says he was refilling his plate. No one would have noticed that except a servant. Ives is too quiet and easily overlooked. If someone did notice him, they’d have avoided him. You didn’t even invite him, Vi. He came with Herbert Miles, who keeps Ives around because Ives is flush and Miles gets farther by getting Ives to pay.”
“Ouch,” Kate said. “Is that really how it is for Ives? The poor lad. We should be friends with him after all this.”
“Oh no,” Lila shook her head, “he might be easily overlooked and pitiful, but he’s also a right wart. I’ve seen more than one of the girls slap him a new one when he let his hand stray.”
Kate’s gaze narrowed and she sniffed. “Please disregard my previous statement.”
“I think I can go through all of this and get you a secondary list. It’ll whittle out the dead weight of everyone we’re concerned might seem to have an alibi but probably doesn’t, really. Beatrice, Kate and I can work together. Double check those with alibis, make a list of people we should double check the validity of their statements and those we can bypass. Like the servants for Ives. I assume you and Jack are bearding the Roches?”
“Yes. Algie suggested we save them for a day or two. They’re being scoured by the Yard at the moment. We need them when they aren’t being watched quite so closely.”
“They were being blackmailed and none of them have alibis,” Lila said. “I looked them up first. Mr. Roche the elder said he was drinking in the library and didn’t know anything was wrong until after the police arrived. Barty and Gertrude had a bit of a spat, and Barty said he was in the ballroom, but no one verifies that. Gertrude said she went to the ladies, but again, no one verified that. Clara’s brother, Robbie, said he stepped out for a smoke in the garden, but he was near the hydrangea. He didn’t see anything and said there were a few others out there smoking. No names or even faces due to the darkness.”
Violet rubbed the back of her neck. “They were getting pressed by Theo. Barty was at real risk of losing money. They’re the reason why Theo was even at the party. All of them are primary suspects. Even Gertrude since only Algie and Clara have alibis.”
“The police will be looking to them too,” Jack said, “I doubt Detective Clarkson will be happy to find us there before him.”
“Oh,” Rita piped in. “Jimmy’s going to ring up the house after the Yard leaves. The Yard detective arrived as I left the hotel.”
Violet grinned. “You brilliant thing. What have you done?”
“Hotel Saffron takes its guests’ desires very seriously,” Rita told them. “It’s quite a bit better than living in a regular house. They’ve risen to a whole other level given that I took my room indefinitely. I am quite…spoiled? I’m not even sure that’s the right word. I thought I was spoiled before, but I didn’t know the meaning until they taught me. I’m a princess from kingdom Saffron.”
Violet laughed at the look of semi-awe on Rita’s face.
“Also,” Rita told them, “I quite like most of the staff. I spoke with Mr. Yardley today. He runs the hotel. He’s using the staff to find out what he can about the Roches and Theo. I was shocked, but I suppose an indefinitely-present guest trumps the temporary ones.”
“I would lay a fiver on the Roches having tried to bully their way into your penthouse suite, Rita,” Denny said gleefully, rubbing his hands together with joy. “I bet they made an enemy and haven’t even realized it.”
Vi closed her eyes in relief. Having the hotel servants on their side, if one of the Roches were the killer, could be the ace they needed to win this game.
“This is going better than I thought it would,” Jack said as he tugged Violet up the steps to her bedroom. They walked inside of the room, and he shut the door, turning her so she was pressed against the wood. Somehow his warmth surrounding her made
her shiver, and she leaned her forehead into his chest, breathing slowly. It wasn’t even time for luncheon, and she felt as though she were a dishrag used to scrub the stairs and wrung out dozens of times.
“Do you think we can do this?”
“We have private investigators who are actually good at what they do being promised untold amounts of money to deliver. We have ins with staff at the hotel, with the press, with Scotland Yard, even with lords and brilliant men of business, all working for us.”
Violet didn’t look up. She heard the edge of hope in his voice and hadn’t realized that he hadn’t been feeling it until it came back. The dawning of his hope was making hers all the more fragile. Perhaps she hadn’t realized quite how bad things were—and she’d been well aware that it wasn’t good.
“Is that a yes?” Violet finally dared to whisper.
Jack turned her face up to his and kissed her lightly on the forehead, the nose, and each cheek before rubbing his jaw over the top of her head. “Yes. If it can be done, I think we’ll be able to do it.”
Violet couldn’t hold back the trembling then. She bit down hard on her lip as though she could hide her feelings. She couldn’t. His gaze was far too penetrating for that. She tried closing her eyes, but that wouldn’t work either. He didn’t need her eyes to read her emotions. Not when he had her hands, her mouth, the feel of her trembling, all the little asides of the day, the sure understanding of each moment of the day and how they’d built to bring her here.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Violet confessed. “What do we do?”
Jack kissed each of her closed eyelids. “It’s possible we’ve done all we could until we have more information.”
“We should be reading the notes from the police interviews,” Violet told him. “We should be…I don’t know…cross-examining the servants or searching the bushes or—”
Jack’s laugh broke into Violet’s rambling, and she scowled up at him.