The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Boxset 1 Read online

  His mouth twisted up into another grin. That was the very term Agatha had used when they were being hooligans as children. “You won’t shed some light on the mystery?”

  Violet considered and then shook her head.

  “Would you shed some light on your friend, Gwennie?”

  Violet out and out grinned, rubbing her hands together before she asked, “Are you referring to my beautiful, sweet, well-connected friend Gwennie?”

  The slew of adjectives were answers to questions he hadn’t asked, and he smirked at her reply. “Indeed.”

  “Only if you answer your own questions first.”

  “Shoot.”

  The calculating side of Violet pressed to the forefront and she asked, “Do you have a good income?”

  “Father was quite successful during the war,” John said seriously. “I am well-set.”

  “More than capable of supporting a wife and educating children?”

  “Very much so,” he said confidently, and Violet considered. If he was truly interested in Gwennie, he wouldn’t lie. It would ruin his chances with her, and it was so easily verifiable. It also very much lessened any need he might have to assist Aunt Agatha to the next life.

  Their conversation had brought back old memories, too. Victor and Violet had tormented him. He had been so much older than them and yet he’d never retaliated or beat them within an inch of their lives as they’d deserved. Instead, he’d always laughed as though skin irritation from itching powder was somehow all in good fun. Could his life had changed so very much? His essential self? She didn’t think so.

  Her suspicion about him faded as she realized that he was a good man whose sight of the future was sidetracked by Gwennie. Those weren’t the actions of some cold-blooded killer who was willing to take advantage of an old woman. Never.

  “I’ll be honest with you, John,” Violet said. “You’ll see more of us than you like should you end up falling for my friend. But you won’t regret her even if you regret Victor and myself. She’s sweet, and cleverer than she seems because she’s so gentle and quiet. She’s the type of woman who uses all that brainwork for the comfort of those she loves. She’ll want you to dance with her and listen to music with her and spend long afternoons on a boat in the water, but if you can steal her heart away, she’ll never stray. Not in her eyes, her mind, and never, ever in her heart.”

  John’s head cocked as he said, “That is quite an endorsement.”

  “Lila and I might be closer friends, but both of us love Gwennie fiercely. Any man would be rich from having her love, and that my cousin, is the ring of the bell for Aunt Agatha.”

  John stood and said, “We’ll talk again after I speak with Agatha. I don’t care for the feel of things here, and I won’t have her abused by your side of the family.”

  “Victor and I will join you in protecting Agatha.”

  “I never doubted it,” John said. “I don’t have the same confidence in that uncle of yours or that worm Algernon, but you and Victor always did love Agatha a little rabidly.”

  Violet laughed at his description and rose as he did. She followed him from the room and made her way to her brother. She couldn’t leave all the work to him, and he’d be interrupted before long for his own conversation with Agatha.

  Chapter 17

  The next morning everyone arrived at breakfast at the same time. Usually the spread was there and they came down as they pleased, serving up a plate from the sideboard and lingering over coffee and tea or the newspaper.

  Perhaps it was the tension in the house. Dinner the previous evening had been near silent with only occasional quiet insults from Uncle Kingsley while the rest ate in silence and disappeared afterwards. Violet had worked through the night adding rather too much of their real life to the story they were writing, and she was exhausted when she sat down.

  Uncle Kingsley didn’t say a word while the rest of them made their plates. When Agatha appeared, his paper twitched, but he didn’t fold it down. Algernon was even quieter, almost leaping out of his skin every time his father turned a page of the paper.

  Aunt Agatha was pale as she seated herself at the table without a plate. “For those of you who are unaware, someone has been trying to kill me.”

  Gwennie dropped her teacup and flushed brilliantly, but no one said a word.

  “This fiend has injured a lifelong friend of mine and driven me to an action I never anticipated making. I have sent for my lawyer. My will will change once he arrives.”

  “What’s this now?” Uncle Kingsley demanded. “What are you up to, woman?”

  Aunt Agatha left the room without deigning to answer. Violet dropped her napkin. Her gaze flit around the room and landed, finally, on Jack. He seemed entirely unsurprised. She stared at him until he turned her direction. His face was impassive, but Violet wondered just what the scheme was. She was almost certain, despite what Agatha had said, that something was afoot.

  Beyond that, what bothered her most was the utter silence. No one protested. No one bemoaned. No one said a word.

  Finally, Lila rose, jerked her head at Denny and they left the room.

  “Does anyone know what has been happening?” John asked quietly. His jaw was tight and his eyes were blazing. Was it from the impending changes to the will or was it from the danger to their aunt?

  Jack recapped each of the occasions that led to Aunt Agatha’s conclusion. Laid out for all to review, it was as clear as day that someone had a target on Aunt Agatha.

  “Seems to me she’s seeing fairies where there ain’t any,” Uncle Kingsley said. “What’s she gonna do? Throw all the money to the poor. I won’t have it.”

  Victor leaned forward and said, “As much as you might like to lie to yourself about what is happening, that many near misses constitute a serious threat to Agatha.”

  Uncle Kingsley blustered and then said, “Don’t be daft, boy.”

  “The poison, more than anything, shows exactly what we’re dealing with,” Violet replied.

  “And you delivered that, didn’t you?”

  “There is no evidence,” Jack snapped, “of any one person committing these crimes.”

  “I’m just saying the girl delivered the poison. Poison always was a woman’s weapon.”

  Violet narrowed her gaze on her uncle. A woman’s weapon? The only thing that required a woman specifically was birthing a baby. If he thought that a woman couldn’t shoot a gun, he had another thing coming. If he thought a woman couldn’t stab you in the back, he was very wrong. Perhaps it was assumed that poison was a woman’s weapon because you didn’t need to be strong to deliver it. Perhaps, if someone had tried to assault Agatha with a candlestick, it would require the strength of a man. But Violet would be damned if the suspects were narrowed only to herself and Meredith because they were female.

  “The poison was delivered in sherry. Something that your aunt partakes of regularly and nearly exclusively,” Jack stated clearly. Any doubts he had about Violet were not reflected in his defense of her.

  “She could have done them all,” Uncle Kingsley harrumphed.

  “So could you,” Jack said flatly. “Of all of you, Violet Carlyle is the one with the best motive for not killing Agatha. Unlike each of you, she has a legitimate offer of marriage from a man who makes Agatha seem like a pauper.”

  “What now?” Uncle Kingsley demanded. “I haven’t heard of your engagement.”

  “I am not affianced,” Violet stated and then lifted her tea to hide her smile at his reaction.

  “Foolish girl,” Uncle Kingsley countered. “Give the vote to women and they ruin their lives. What women need is a strong male hand at the reins.”

  “Leave my sister be,” Victor said. “Her marriage or lack thereof is no concern of yours.”

  “And lucky she is,” Kingsley said. “If she were mine, I’d set her straight, believe you me.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you would do,” Victor said, the lion in his gaze again. “Violet is not you
rs.”

  “Thank God for it! Probably a murderer. Delivering poison. Prancing about with good offers of marriage and frittering them away on stupidity.”

  “Kingsley, leave my sister be.”

  “Or what boy? So quick to defend your murderous sister.”

  “Unlike you,” Victor roared, “Violet has not lost the fortune of her family. She still has the money she was given from our mother and as well as Grandfather. She has a good offer of marriage. She’s beautiful and she’s young and she’s brilliant. She doesn’t have to kill to have a bright future. When Agatha writes you out of the will, what will you do? Get a job? Please. There’s nothing left for you.”

  “Victor!” Violet said softly. “Enough.”

  “Throwing accusations at each other gets us nowhere,” Meredith said. “What are we going to do about Agatha changing her will?”

  “Not a damned thing,” John snapped. “She can do with her money as she likes and if she needs to change her will to save herself from some bedamned devil, so she will!”

  “Hear, hear,” Victor said.

  Violet’s gaze turned towards Algernon and Meredith, who were both silent in the face of such a reply. Meredith rose and left the breakfast room without another word. Algernon glanced at his father, still without breathing a word in his presence. The only way to describe Algernon’s exit, a moment later, was a hasty retreat.

  “You are a pack of simpering fools,” Uncle Kingsley shouted. “All of you. Catering to the imaginations of a woman whose only claim to genius is sheer luck.”

  None of them bothered to argue with Kingsley about the clear and present evidence of a fortune to back Agatha’s financial genius. Kingsley followed Meredith and Algernon from the breakfast room, slamming the door behind him.

  John set down his coffee, staring after their uncle. “What the devil?”

  How to reply? But John didn’t need a response. He cleared his throat and then stated, “We will figure this out ourselves. I won’t see my aunt lose her final years out of unadulterated greed. What do you know?”

  To Violet’s surprise, Jack explained what he’d learned so far. He didn’t remove any of them from the suspect list, but John did. “You don’t know these two. They’ve been wild, they’ve been rabid, they’ve been ridiculous.”

  Victor snorted and then said, “Hey now.”

  “And in all of that time, they have adored Agatha fiercely. She favors them, always has. Do you know why?”

  Jack lifted his brows, waiting for an answer.

  “Because they loved her as rabidly as she loved them. Meredith has always been a cold fish. Algernon was spoiled and entitled. I had my parents and didn’t need Agatha. These two needed her as much as she needed them. I would bet the entirety of my not-unremarkable fortune that they’d sooner die than see her dead.”

  “It is my job to discover facts. The fact remains that there are many potential heirs and therefore many potential motives. I haven’t been able to remove any of you from among my suspects, merely lower you. These crimes were too well thought out and didn’t leave any evidence to pursue. Not yet. I’m trying to track the cyanide, but so far it’s a fool’s errand.”

  Gwennie was the one who said softly, “But surely there must be something. Surely you can see that Mr. Davies and my friends don’t have a strong motive because they aren’t exactly poor.”

  “It does,” Jack admitted. “To be honest, Violet and John are barely on it. Victor has a little more motive without his own massive fortune and without the offer of one. My main suspects are Kingsley and Algernon. They’d have to be working hand in hand for the last two attempts, but it wouldn’t be the first time a father and son worked together to commit crime.”

  Victor winced at that and then admitted, “Kingsley has always had Algernon cowed.”

  “Meredith’s lot isn’t enviable,” Jack said, “but it’s not so out of the ordinary. She’s more fortunate than many a war widow.”

  Violet didn’t argue with that, but she admitted that Meredith’s fate was a nightmare.

  “Didn’t expect John to stand up for us like that,” Victor said after Jack excused himself to check on his father and John excused himself to write some more letters. He was trying to keep up with his business concerns despite the visit.

  “We had a good chat yesterday,” Violet said. “He’s intrigued by our Gwennie.”

  Victor shuddered a little and said, “Gwennie’s delightful, but marriage is terrifying.”

  “John is quite a bit older than us, you child. We reminisced. Do you remember when we filled his bathtub with those frogs?”

  Victor’s laugh was answer enough.

  “I want to see how easy it is to get from Gertrude’s home to Aunt Agatha’s,” Violet told him.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hargreaves said the train leaves at 10:00 a.m. I’m going.”

  Victor hesitated and then asked, “Shall we bring the allies?”

  “We should leave Gwennie in John’s tender care,” Violet said. “You ask him to keep an eye on her given the machinations, and I’ll get Lila to pretend to be ill so John gets a chance to know Gwennie unfettered of a chaperone.”

  “Are you matchmaking, you insufferable meddler?”

  Violet smirked in reply and went to change her clothes. She selected boots to go with a wool dress and her coat and cloche before she found Lila and told her the plan.

  “Being left behind was not the deal,” Lila said. “But Denny wants to lay about and smoke anyway, and I’ve stolen the novels you hid in your trunk.”

  “It’s for Gwennie,” Violet said righteously with a pompous sniff. Lila slapped her arm and laughed and then admitted, “I have no desire to travel by train to an even smaller town just to snoop on your cousins, but you’ll have to take me out for chocolates when we reach Paris.”

  “Consider it a date set in stone.” Violet grinned and left before she could be trapped by Gwennie. Her friend might feel it was her duty to stand by Violet in her sleuthing instead of pursuing that fatal temptress, love.

  They caught the train with Beatrice. “When we get there,” Violet said. “I want you to gossip with anyone you can find who will talk to you. Tell them you got off on the wrong train and then ask if this is where Meredith Allyn lives. If they know her, chitchat with them. Start with nice comments. If they don’t get you where you want, say vague mean things and see if anyone picks anything up.”

  Beatrice nodded, “Yes, miss. Of course.”

  They left her in the third-class compartment with money for lunch and enough to get home and then got themselves off the train. Violet purchased several things at the dress shop simply to have a reason to be in town and then they walked up to their cousin Gertrude’s house.

  “It’s nicer than I imagined,” Violet admitted. “The big windows, the lovely lawn. The hedges are so even.”

  “Were you imagining something with bars on the windows and a place in the cellar for Meredith?”

  Violet’s lips twitched as she confessed, “I suppose I was. She was so angry this morning about the will. For her, the reaction was on the level of Kingsley.”

  “She was much calmer than Kingsley, my luv,” Victor said, casting Violet a surprised glance.

  “Yes, but for Meredith. She’s such a sour, cold thing. Kingsley is always blustering, so when he well and truly loses it, it isn’t all that dramatic. But Meredith, she’s not like that at all. So when she…”

  “So when she has any reaction at all, you know she’s upset.”

  “Do you think Aunt Agatha will leave it all to the widow’s fund?” Victor asked as he knocked on the door.

  “No,” Violet said. “Yesterday she said her will was full of judgements and unfairness. She said she was setting it right. I suppose we’re heirs after all; perhaps we’ll split whatever she has evenly with the others?”

  “Money just means that the pater and Eleanor will let up on me and focus on you. All that money and up for connect
ions and what nots. They’ll be dreaming of titles and castles for you, darling.”

  Violet winced and nodded. “Thinking that with money I’ve clawed my way off the shelf and burnished up my looks.”

  “Funny inn’it? How beautiful money makes a girl who’s as long in the tooth as you.”

  Violet elbowed her twin as the door opened.

  “Oh, hello,” Victor said with a self-deprecating grin. “I know we’re terribly unexpected and mannerless to show up like this, but my dear sister and I were shopping for Christmas when we realized our cousin, Gertrude, lived in this town. Didn’t seem quite the thing to avoid saying our hellos.”

  The housekeeper eyed them distastefully and then asked, “Who should I say is calling?”

  Victor didn’t let the censure lessen his grin a bit as he said, “Victor and Violet Carlyle. We share a grandfather with Gertrude, don’t you know? Poor thing to be related to mannerless duffs, like us.”

  “Hmm,” the housekeeper said. A light drizzle started and she stepped back. “I’ll inquire if she’s home.”

  Violet’s lips twitched again, but she otherwise kept her face expressionless. The housekeeper cleared her throat, cast them another censorious look, and then crossed to a parlor, entering, and precisely shutting the door behind her so the twins couldn’t eavesdrop.

  The entrance hall was respectable enough but the brightness of the outside didn’t carry inside. A little dark, a little dank, and a little filled with prying eyes. Violet elbowed her brother and nodded towards the stairs where two sets of dark eyes peered down on them.

  “Would you be the twins?” Victor asked brightly.

  The eyes blinked once and twice and then a dirty little face appeared over the balustrade.

  “Mebbe,” the boy mumbled. A matching face popped up next to the first one and was, if possible, even dirtier than the first.

  “Would you believe we’re twins too?” Victor asked, giving the boys an engaging grin.