Murder By Chocolate Read online

  Murder By Chocolate

  A Violet Carlyle Mysteries

  Beth Byers

  Copyright © 2019 by Beth Byers, Amanda A. Allen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  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

  Death By the Book Preview

  Death By the Book Preview

  Also By Beth Byers

  Also By Amanda A. Allen

  Summary

  July 1925

  Lady Violet is Mrs. Wakefield now, and she’s settled rather comfortably into her life. During a trip to her country house, she meets a chocolate artisan, and she decides that nothing else will suit than an evening at home—with chocolate—as a married woman.

  When she invites her friends to her house, she little expects her home to be christened not by chocolate but by murder. Yet again, Vi, Jack, and friends are dragged into a murder investigation. Just who would commit the crime of poisoning chocolate? And why?

  For Tessa

  Chapter 1

  “No chalkboards,” Violet said, crossing her arms over her chest at Denny.

  He giggled. She lifted a brow and he giggled even harder.

  “I said no,” she told him, glancing at Lila, who just shook her head and sipped her cocktail.

  “Why am I arguing about this?” Violet looked to Jack who also shook his head. “We’re considering a swimming pool, not a…a…murder room.”

  “It’s easy to get under your skin, Vi,” Denny told her with another giggle. “Honestly, my darling Vi, it makes my life so much shinier.”

  Violet propped her feet up on the ottoman in front of her. “You’re dismissed as a friend, my good sir.”

  “But we have dinner reservations,” Lila said idly. She tucked her golden hair behind her ear and examined her complexion in her compact. As usual, she looked lovely.

  “After dinner,” Violet amended.

  “We’re going dancing after that, aren’t we? I shall need him to accompany me so I don’t have to be the woebegone flower on the wall without a partner.”

  “Fine,” Violet moaned, “he’s dismissed after that.”

  Denny’s giggling morphed into a snicker and then he scowled at his cocktail. “Where is Victor when I need him? Off cavorting in the country and leaving a fella to make his own cocktails.”

  “It is hard to be you,” Violet told Denny. She was happy enough with her solitary glass of ginger wine. There was, she thought, something very delightful in drinking her favorite drink with her friends in her own house.

  She and Jack had bought the house before they’d married. It had needed rather a lot of updating, which had been more fun than she’d anticipated. She ran her fingers over the red satin fabric with oriental dragons woven in. She had seen the fabric across the shop and swanned through the displays to demand it be turned into something for her. The result was, if she said so herself, extraordinary.

  She glanced again around the room, taking in only Jack, Lila, and Denny. They really had lost too much of their party over the last few days. First Violet’s twin, Victor, had determined that his expecting wife must have fresh air and left London to begin their slow journey to the south of England. That departure had been followed by their friend, Rita, and Lila’s devil sister departing on a foreign adventure. That had been followed—very significantly—by Hamilton Barnes taking a case in Leeds.

  “Are we leaving tomorrow morning?” Denny asked. He groaned as he heaved himself to his feet and crossed to the bar again.

  “You’re getting squishy about the middle again,” Violet told him, just to watch him blush and pat his belly. “But no, the day after. We are, however, having a family dinner while we’re there,” Violet told the others significantly. “Jack’s father is not the head of the Wakefield family, and I don’t think any of them are prepared for this lot, so we’ll have to put on our best play-acting faces until they get used to us.”

  “Then we’ll drop the act and they’ll realize the cuckoos they’ve let into the nest?” Lila’s lazy voice was punctuated by a slight half-smile as if she couldn’t be bothered to smile with both sides of her mouth.

  “Jack’s father is the head of this family, I’d say,” Denny said as though he met James Wakefield more than a time or two at large events. “Don’t you think?”

  Jack laughed. “My father might be honored by that. He adores Vi, so anyone or anything associated with her—like myself—suddenly looks better.”

  “Tell me about these blokes who call themselves your family,” Denny said. “Any looney ones? Any black sheep?”

  “I’m the black sheep,” Jack said. “Working for Scotland Yard, sullying our name in the media, generally horrifying the family with my associating with killers and working folk.”

  “I was under the impression that your family wasn’t as highbrow as Vi’s,” Denny said.

  “They aren’t,” Jack agreed. “They’re solidly middle class for generations, running a business that did well for decades but benefited greatly by the Great War. It was run mostly by my grandfather, father, and uncles.”

  “So they raked in extra bullion during the war?” Denny groaned. “I wish my family had done that. They’ve been splitting apart the same fortune for centuries. My kids might actually have to work.”

  “You had to work,” Violet told him, “until your aunt saved you.”

  “True,” Denny agreed and then shuddered. “I prefer not to recall those dark times.”

  Jack leaned back. “The business was growing before the war but after they got government contracts, everything changed.”

  Lila lifted a brow. “They’re the bourgeoisie? Gasp,” she said idly. “We’ve been slumming this whole time with this working interloper.”

  “My stepmother did try to tell us.” Violet had to bite down on her bottom lip to hold back her laugh.

  “She did,” Jack agreed. “It’s a wonder you married me.”

  “I’ve always been an obstinate child, as I’m sure she said time and again. It’s possible I married you just to be disagreeable.”

  “She did,” Denny agreed. “I heard that treasure during one of the times I eavesdropped on her scolding you.”

  “I’d be tempted to dismiss you if you weren’t already on notice.” Violet straightened her dress sleeves and then her overlapping long strand of black pearls. The dress was blush pink on the edges with the rest showing a deep grey. Detailing in the form of embroidery and tiny glass beads added texture and shininess to the dress. Her black silk stockings and diamond buckled shoes completed her look if you didn’t count the excess of jewelry. She tended towards too much jewelry, but she did love a good diamond and gold bangle and dangling earbobs with a matching headpiece. That evening’s head piece was more tiara than headband, but it still held her short dark bob back from her face.

  She was tall, slender like an elf, with sharp features and witty eyes. Her grin was always at the ready, and she flashed it at her husband as he scowled at both of them.

  “No one made Vi marry me,” he huffed, s
ipping his G&T.

  She bit down on her lip again as Denny told him, “But you might have if she’d put up a fuss.”

  Only the corner of Jack’s mouth twitched, and you had to know him well to know he was amused. He was one of those stoic-faced gents, generally even in both expression and tone. His broad shoulders adjusted a little as he shifted and then stood, holding out his hand for Violet. “We’re going to miss our reservations if we don’t move.”

  Violet took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, then glanced at Denny, who set aside his freshly made cocktail with a groan and pulled Lila up as well. He deliberately pulled her too hard, so she stumbled into him, and then he caught her, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

  “So who is the patriarch of your family, Jack?” Denny asked as he helped Lila into her coat.

  “My grandfather, of course,” Jack said as if Denny were a bit slow. The man had, after all, met Jack’s family, who’d come up for the wedding only a few months ago. “My grandfather, then my oldest uncle, Anderson Wakefield, next is my father, and then my uncle Herbert. There is also my Aunt Hyacinth.”

  “Ah,” Denny said. “Tell me this aunt of yours is childless with a vast fortune?”

  Jack grunted as he opened the door to the auto and seated Violet, following her in while Denny and Lila took the other side. “The Savoy.” To Denny, Jack said, “My aunt has nine children.”

  “Nine!” Lila said, sounding fully awake for the first time that evening. “That is unacceptable.”

  “It is my Uncle Anderson who is the childless—yet wealthy—man.”

  “Oh ho,” Denny said with a giddy grin chased by a giddy giggle. “Tell me your cousins are in an endless circle of a hubbub over who the heir should be.”

  Jack tensed enough that Violet leaned away from him with a gasp. “No! Say they aren’t.”

  “Well,” Jack said, shrugging. “A bit of a hubbub. My cousins Liam and Frank work in the business and have done since they finished school. Family rumors state that at least one feels it should be his. Aunt Hyacinth—their mother—agrees.”

  “Is your grandfather a dynastic type?” Lila asked. “Where does Liam fall dynastically?”

  “I believe”—Violet’s smirk was hidden by the darkness of the auto as they travelled—"that it is Jack who is the heir as far as dynasty goes.”

  Jack put his hand over her mouth and she bit down on his finger. His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Technically, after Anderson comes my father. I don’t believe my grandfather will leave his business dynastically. I believe he’ll leave it in the hands of the one most likely to keep the business successful.”

  “Oh ho.” Lila’s voice was meaningful as she sing-songed, “Viiiii.”

  “No,” Violet said. “Of course they wouldn’t give the money to Jack.”

  “Not Jack,” Denny teased, “you.”

  Violet would have kicked him, but she couldn’t quite see and didn’t want to half get Lila. “It does seem to be the grounds for a bit of a…ruckus. How up in arms is your family about the will? Your grandfather does have a will, right?”

  Jack laughed. “He’s not a fool. He’s a savvy businessman. They’re all worrying over making their argument, but I can promise you—the will has been made.”

  Violet sighed as the auto stopped. Their driver opened the door for Jack, who stepped out and then handed her out of the auto. They made their way inside the famous restaurant and were seated.

  “I am hoping for a ruckus,” Denny said with his grin. “Otherwise Lila will expect to me to go on rambles, row, swim, and generally be active.”

  “You’re too fat,” Lila told him flatly. “It’s not healthy. Your cheeks shouldn’t be red like they are. You got winded the other day walking up the stairs. Cry if you need, my lad, but you need to lose at least a stone if not two.”

  “Can you believe this?” Denny groaned and glanced at Jack, who held up his hands.

  “I exercise daily, my friend.”

  “Daily?” Denny gasped. “Even if you…ah…overindulge?”

  Very dryly, Jack said, “I don’t.”

  Violet couldn’t hold back her own giggles at Denny’s aghast face.

  “Never?” Denny demanded.

  Violet lifted a brow, remembering a time or two on their honeymoon when he’d overindulged, slept the day away, and woke only just in time to lie in the sun.

  “Almost never,” Jack amended.

  “Perhaps, however, today,” Violet said with a sigh. “As we can’t go on tomorrow’s train, and Lady Eleanor has insisted on tea.”

  Jack’s even expression finally failed and he said, “But I don’t have to do that, do I, to get out of it?”

  Violet and Denny laughed, although Violet’s low chuckle was drowned out by Denny’s high-pitched hyena laugh.

  “No, no,” Violet said, thinking of her stepmother. “Only I have to suffer.”

  “By Jove!” Denny told Jack. “You better lay it on thick tonight, Jack, just in case. Or not touch a drop. Stay in bed or escape before the sun rises, if you don’t want to be caught there at teatime.”

  Chapter 2

  Lady Eleanor arrived precisely five minutes before their arranged time. Her hair was covered by a turban with a large pearl broach. Her beautiful face was smoothed into an expression of even politeness and her gaze flicked about Violet’s parlor, judging each piece.

  “You really shouldn’t have so many oversized lounging chairs, Violet. It encourages one to linger. Or even, heaven forbid, slip right into sleep in the middle of your tea.”

  “Mmm,” Violet said. “Was Isolde coming with you?”

  “Tomas is dropping her on his way to his club or some other such manly nonsense. I suppose Jack is working.” She might as well have said digging trenches, or joining the chain gang, or meeting his highwayman crew.

  “Jack got up quite early,” Violet said, “to assist Denny.”

  “Whatever does that layabout need assistance with? He certainly isn’t working.”

  Violet could hardly tell her stepmother the truth—that Jack had agreed with Lila to haul Denny with him to get the blood moving and the body sweating. So Vi vaguely shook her head and switched subjects. “How is Father?”

  “Quite well,” Lady Eleanor snapped. She sounded like a dragon whose cave had been invaded.

  Violet blinked, keeping her expression without nuance. Her mind, however, was racing. Just what was going on with her father and his wife? Had he finally put his foot down about something? As far as Violet had been able to tell, Lady Eleanor had endlessly gotten her way. And yet—Violet realized in a snap that Lady Eleanor only truly got upset over her children. Violet was sure all was well with Isolde, so….

  “And how is Geoffrey?”

  Lady Eleanor looked as if she’d bitten into a bad apple as she lied, “Quite well.”

  Violet’s youngest half-brother was a wart of boy if ever there was one. She hid her grin at the idea that Father had finally decided to step in and see if he could straighten out the lad. Violet’s only concern was that it was too late.

  Violet lied in return. “Of course he is. Hasn’t the weather been lovely?”

  “It’s stifling,” Lady Eleanor retorted. “Tomas should take Isolde to the country before she faints from the heat and loses the baby.”

  “They only just returned from traveling,” Violet said.

  Lady Eleanor scowled as though she wanted to lay into Violet when Isolde, Vi’s half-sister, entered the parlor. “Vi! Hargreaves is here?”

  Violet laughed. “Victor decided to save poor the last fellow from my ways and sent Hargreaves over who understands me.”

  “Do you mean to say that you and your twin have…have…swapped butlers?” The disgusted expression was back on Lady Eleanor’s face.

  Merrily, Vi replied, “We did indeed.”

  “Because of your behavior?”

  “Well it wasn’t Jack’s,” Violet said happily just to watch her stepmother s
cowl.

  “You had so many excellent spouse options,” Lady Eleanor bemoaned.

  Isolde crossed to Violet, pressed a kiss on her cheek, and breathed, “Courage, dear one.”

  “It’s not courage I need,” Violet whispered back. “It’s the patience and fortitude of a saint.”

  “Stop whispering. My goodness Vi, are you going to send for tea?”

  “Hargreaves will bring it,” Violet said easily, taking a seat in her favorite chair while her stepmother and half-sister sat side-by-side on the chesterfield.

  “Vi!” Isolde said as she looked about. “The final things have come in, have they? It does look lovely in here.”

  “It’s too modern,” Lady Eleanor complained. “None of this will be in style in five years and you’ll be throwing money away to correct your choices.”

  Isolde answered before Violet did. “It’s a good thing then, isn’t it, that’s Vi’s disgustingly rich. She could re-do her house every year and not wince. Violet! Your guess about Cypress was so right. I loved it. Are you and Jack going to go soon?”

  “I think we’ll stay here until Vi Junior is born and then see where Kate wants to go.”

  “You’d think that they wouldn’t be in each other’s pockets so much after marrying,” Lady Eleanor said archly. “I can’t imagine either Kate or Jack loves being smothered by the twin.”

  Isolde laughed as Violet bit her lip.

  “Both of them knew what they were getting in their spouse,” Isolde said, “and I know with certainty that Kate adores Violet. Whether Jack adores Victor as equally, I cannot guess.”

  Violet adjusted the hem of her dress. It was a bit of a cross between soft pink and nude with many layered hems and a scooped neck. She moved from fiddling with her dress to her wedding ring as she tried to hold her tongue.