A Knight on the Town

by Hermione Moon

“Thank you.” I reach up and kiss him on the cheek. Then I say to Arthur, “come on, we need to catch her before she goes.”

  I wave goodbye to James and run across the road. Arthur and Merlin catch up with me as I stride back up the high street to the market cross and turn into Magdalene Street, toward the Avalon Café.

  “So Nancy’s having an affair with Matthew,” Arthur states, his long legs easily keeping up with me.

  “It all makes sense now,” I reply. We cross the road and enter the abbey shop. Oscar waves us through, and we exit onto the lawn, with the Lady Chapel in front of us. The police have removed the tape they originally set up around the scene, and a small group of tourists is making their way through the chapel, led by a woman in a long blue medieval gown.

  “Nancy.” I stop at the edge of the chapel. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her yet, just that I have to talk to her.

  She turns and sees us, and her voice trails off. Her eyes meet mine, and we study each other for a long time.

  Finally, she looks back at the tourists with a smile and says, “You must excuse me for a moment. Please continue on to the nave, and take a look at the site of Arthur’s tomb.”

  Arthur shivers beside me, but I don’t have time to console him, because Nancy’s walking toward us.

  She stops on the grass before us, then looks away, across to where we found Valerie just a few days ago.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Yes?” Nancy asks. Her tone is polite, but her eyes are icy.

  “Sorry to bother you,” I reply. “I’d just like to ask you a quick question. On Tuesday morning—around nine a.m., when Valerie died—I understand that you left the jewellery shop. Can you tell me where you went?”

  A touch of colour appears in her cheeks. “That’s private,” she says. “Anyway, what’s it got to do with you?”

  “I’m clearing something up for DCI Hobbs,” I say. “It’s an easy question.”

  For a moment she doesn’t reply. I can see her weighing up whether to refuse to answer, or whether she thinks that will look more suspicious. Beside me, Arthur folds his arms, and Merlin sits, all of us waiting patiently for her reply.

  Eventually, she snaps, “I was with my boyfriend. I popped out of the shop to see him.”

  I meet her eyes. “I think you should know that Matthew called Imogen earlier, and she went around to interview him. So you’d better be sure of your story.”

  Her jaw drops. “You’re lying,” she whispers.

  “I’m not. I understand why you fell for him. Matthew is good-looking, intelligent, and charismatic.” I frown. “But I am surprised you continued to be interested in him once you discovered his dislike for witches.”

  As soon as I say that, Nancy’s defences crumble. Her shoulders sag, and tears well in her eyes.

  “You poisoned Valerie with the oleander honey because she told you to stop seeing her brother,” I accuse. “You thought Matthew would be pleased because you thought he hated her, but you underestimated his love for his sister. I think he was coming to see you when we met you at your house yesterday. I think you told him what you’d done, and he was so angry that he broke up with you. He must have thought about what you’d done all night, and today he decided he couldn’t keep it a secret, and he rang Imogen.”

  Nancy looks away, a bit vague, as if she’s only half with me. “Valerie hated that I was going out with him. She saw it as a betrayal of Morgana’s Sisters, and told me that if I didn’t stop seeing him, she’d tell him the truth about me being a witch.”

  “I presume you knew that the honey you gave Valerie was poisonous?” Arthur asks. “And if so, if you knew it would probably kill her, why did you push her over the barrier at the abbey?”

  “I got an email from the Living History team to say that I hadn’t got the promotion.” Her cheeks redden, and her jaw knots. “And then she sent me a smug text to say she’d got it. I was furious. I had to see her. I’d given her the honey, because she’d told me she has it in her tea every day, but even though she was sick, it was taking too long. When I saw her in the Lady Chapel, I didn’t stop to think. I just pushed her over the edge.”

  She looks past me and sighs. I turn and follow her gaze and see Imogen running across the lawn toward us, two police officers hot on her heels. I turn back to Nancy.

  “Why did you leave my watch at the scene?” I whisper. “You obviously meant to frame me for Valerie’s murder. Why?”

  “It was your fault that Mary is in prison,” she says fiercely. “Imogen told us that you helped her catch her. You’re so perfect. Sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Even Matthew thinks you’re the bee’s knees. I hate you.” Her eyes blaze with sudden hatred, making me catch my breath.

  “Hello, hello.” Imogen stops before us all, panting a little. “What’s going on here, then?”

  “Nancy has just confessed to murdering Valerie,” Arthur states.

  “I see.” Imogen beckons to the officer who arrives beside her, takes a pair of handcuffs from him, and walks up to Nancy. “Nancy Armstrong, I’m arresting you for the murder of Valerie Hopkins-Brown,” she states. “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention…” She continues reading Nancy her rights as she cuffs both Nancy’s wrists behind her back.

  When she’s done, Imogen meets my gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Beat me to it again, huh?”

  “Sorry.”

  She smiles. “Don’t apologize. You’ll come in to give a statement tomorrow morning? Tell me everything you found out?”

  “Of course.”

  “How did you know?” Nancy asks Imogen. “Did she tell you?”

  “Nope,” Imogen replies. “Your boyfriend threw you under the bus, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s one of the good guys, but he wasn’t going to keep the information about his sister’s death quiet. Now come on. I’d like to get home before midnight tonight. Let’s get a move on.” She marches Nancy away over the lawn toward the waiting police car.

  “Under the bus?” Arthur says.

  “It means to betray someone selfishly,” I advise. “Idioms are one of the hardest things to understand when learning a language.”

  He smiles and puts his arms around my shoulders. “Are you okay? I have a feeling that what Nancy said upset you.”

  “It’s rare that someone says they hate me,” I reply.

  “As I said, she was jealous and angry,” Arthur tells me. “Try not to take it to heart.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Shall we go home?”

  “Actually, I have one thing I’d like to do first,” I tell him. “Would you take Merlin home for me? I won’t be long.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “I’m fine.”

  “Then of course.” He doesn’t question me, just kisses my temple, then clicks his fingers at Merlin, and heads off home.

  I watch him go, my stomach fluttering with several different emotions.

  Turning, I walk slowly back across the lawn. What a couple of weeks it’s been. I’m pleased to have found Valerie’s murderer, but upset as well at the thought of everything that’s happened. Nancy’s hatred shocked me, as did her declaration that Matthew thinks I’m the “bee’s knees.” I knew he liked me, but her words made me feel very uncomfortable.

  There’s been a lot of negative energy flowing around lately, and I want to do something positive. Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while.

  I walk around to the museum entrance, push open the doors, and go inside.

  *

  I get home about thirty minutes later.

  “That didn’t take long.” Arthur looks up from where he’s sitting on the sofa, Merlin at his feet.

  “Just calling in a favour,” I tell him. “I’ll explain more tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” He smiles.

  “Aren’t you going to ask what it is?” I say playfully.

  “You’ll
tell me when you’re ready.”

  I smile. “You’re a good man, Arthur.”

  “Not all the time.” He gives me a lazy smile that sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Oh. I—” My reply is cut short as Merlin barks, something he does very rarely. I look around, puzzled, then inhale sharply as I look at Mum’s old decorative mirror above the sofa. Valerie is standing behind me, dressed in white, her hair floating around her shoulders as if in a small breeze.

  Arthur gets to his feet and stands by my side, looking at the mirror.

  “Can you see her?” I whisper.

  He nods. “It’s time,” he replies. “She’s ready to move on, now.”

  Merlin walks up and sits beside him. Arthur holds my hand.

  For a moment, there’s just the ticking of the clock on the wall and the crackling of the logs in the grate. I’m conscious of Arthur’s chest rising and falling with each breath. His fingers tighten.

  Before us, a ball of light forms. It’s about the size of the crystal ball on the mantlepiece. It’s so bright, I can barely look at it.

  It’s the Grail—the well of energy.

  Threads of light emerge from the ball and reach toward us. I feel them enter my body, filling me with warmth and love. I feel as if I’m glowing, too, but when I look up, the threads have passed through us and have engulfed Valerie’s spirit in a ball of white light. It glows brighter and brighter; I close my eyes, it’s so bright.

  When I open them again, the Grail has gone, and so has Valerie.

  I look up at Arthur. He smiles. “She’s at peace now,” he says.

  And, for the first time in several days, so am I.

  *

  The next morning, Arthur and I go to the station to see Imogen and give our statement detailing all the information we found out about Nancy and the oleander honey. When we’re done, we go back to the café, and Arthur finishes painting the break room, while I spend the morning baking.

  It’s around one p.m. that I hear a commotion in the café, with a couple of people cheering and clapping. I look up through the window that separates it from the kitchen and grin as I see what’s happening. Wiping my hands on a tea towel, I go out into the café, where Nathan, who’s the head of the Arthurian Adventure, and Christian, are in the process of moving Sir Boss back to his spot by the café door.

  “Thank you so much,” I say, oddly tearful to have the knight back where he belongs.

  “Shouldn’t have been moved in the first place,” Nathan says gruffly. He’s a big guy in his forties with a brown beard flecked with grey. “It took a couple of phone calls, but eventually the Health and Safety Department at the council agreed we could move him back, providing he was properly restrained.” The knight’s raised hand is chained to the upper part of the suit so the sword can’t fall.

  “That’s wonderful,” I say. “Perfect.”

  “And here’s the other thing you asked for.” Nathan holds out a small box.

  I take it from him. “Thank you.”

  “This is rather unusual,” Nathan says, “but I think we know you well enough to be sure you’re not going to sell it or lose it.”

  “I think it will be taken very good care of,” Christian adds.

  Feeling a wave of emotion, I just nod, and the two men smile and wave as they leave the café.

  Turning, I see Arthur coming through the door of the break room, presumably to see what all the fuss is about. He stops as he sees Sir Boss, then laughs and strides up to the suit of armour. “That’s good to see.” He reaches out a hand to brush a fleck of dirt off the knight’s breastplate.

  “It didn’t seem right, him not being here,” I tell him. Then I slip my hand into his. “Come with me,” I whisper.

  I lead him outside, into the afternoon sunshine. The rainclouds left this morning, and now it’s a beautiful day, the stones of the abbey turned golden in the sun.

  “What’s this about?” Arthur raises an eyebrow as I turn him to face me.

  “I have a present for you.” I hold out the box.

  “It’s not my birthday,” he says, taking it.

  “I know. I just wanted to say thank you for your help in solving the case, and… well…” I feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to let you know that I’m glad you’re here.”

  He meets my eyes for a moment. His are very blue—the colour of the sky behind his head. Then he drops his gaze to the box and pulls off the lid.

  It’s the bronze brooch in the shape of a bear that I gave to him in my previous incarnation for our fifth wedding anniversary.

  He stares at it, then lifts it out of the box. “How did you get it?” he whispers.

  “I asked Nathan if I could look after it. He knows how much I love archaeology, so he said yes.”

  Arthur rubs a thumb over the bear, obviously fighting against a rise of emotion. “You did this for me?”

  “I don’t want you to think that because I don’t remember our past, you’re not very special to me.”

  He lowers his hand and meets my eyes. To my right is the abbey, which bears our graves in the centre of the nave. To our left is the café, through which I know we’re being watched by Delia, Melissa, and Cooper, as well as a dozen customers.

  But Arthur seems oblivious to everything as he lifts his free hand and slides it to the back of my neck. He moves closer, and puts his other arm around me, still holding the box.

  I rest my hand on his chest and hold my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs at the affection, the desire, in his eyes.

  And then he lowers his lips to mine.

  I close my eyes, sighing as he kisses me. Everything flees my mind. There’s only Arthur’s firm lips, the scent of his new aftershave, the feel of his muscles through his sweater beneath my fingers, the touch of the sun slanting across us, warm on my face. Merlin sits by our feet, and I’m sure he’s smiling. It feels as if I’ve come home.

  The sound of cheering from the café makes us laugh and break apart. I wave to everyone inside, then slide my arms around Arthur’s waist and lean my cheek on his chest, looking out across the grounds of the abbey.

  “Summer’s on its way,” I murmur, and Arthur kisses the top of my head.

  *

  A Knight to Remember (The Avalon Café Book 3)

  A Knight to Remember (Book 3)

  A good knight out is always welcome…

  *

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  About the Author

  Hermione Moon writes cozy witch mysteries with a sprinkling of romance, set in Glastonbury, England. She also writes steamy contemporary romance as Serenity Woods, and is a USA Today bestselling author under that name. She currently lives with her husband in New Zealand.

  Website: http://www.hermionemoon.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hermionemoonauthor