Murder By Chocolate Page 6

  “So,” she said brightly, lying with her smile, “are you all a fan of chocolate?”

  Anderson examined her face for a moment. “I believe most people enjoy it to a degree. What’s this I hear about a chocolate party?”

  “I believe we shall have a weekend of it,” Violet said. “I’m rather thinking of investing in a local woman’s chocolatier. The weekend is, shall we say, a trial run to ensure her talents are up to snuff.”

  “Is this Mariposa Jenkins?”

  Violet nodded.

  “I don’t believe you’ll be disappointed. I’m sure we’ll all enjoy it quite nicely. I shall spread the word among the family.”

  “Wonderful,” Violet said and then sipped deeply of her coffee, pretending that her reply hadn't been sarcastic in the extreme.

  Chapter 8

  Violet kissed Jack on the cheek as they stepped onto the great stone porch outside of his country house. Unlike his grandfather’s house, the country house was old and it reflected money, but not mountains of it. The house was smaller than their London home, but the garden was quite a bit larger. It had once had property for the gentlemen farmers of Jack’s mother’s side of the family.

  “Good luck,” she told him. “You and your father should go fishing even if your grandfather declines to come and stay. No reason not to have fun.”

  “We will,” Jack told her and then pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Even if he says no, I’ll know that I tried.”

  James glanced between them and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jack. We should have tried harder before this. I could have made the attempt to help him see that you choosing to investigate wasn’t you turning away from him. Honestly, I suppose I just didn’t think anything of it. He was never affectionate.”

  “Father,” Jack told him, clapping his hand on his father’s shoulder, “I’ve never expected anything else. We’re doing this so Violet won’t worry over it. It’ll bother her until I try.”

  Vi grinned at both of them. They were giving her matching long-suffering looks. “You’re stopping at a pub, aren’t you?”

  Jack’s laugh told her they were.

  She smirked. “Enjoy your pint and your chips.”

  The autos were delivered to the front of the house as the door opened behind Violet. She turned to find Geoffrey coming out. He was wrapped in plaster from his shoulder to his wrist and scowling at her as if she’d poured the cognac down his throat.

  “I don’t want to go,” he told her. “My arm hurts.”

  Violet ignored his whine and let Jack hold the auto door open for her.

  “It’s not safe for women to drive,” Geoffrey told her. “I won’t do it. You’ll kill me with the auto.”

  The look she gave him was so cold and so furious that he slowly got in and slammed the door behind him.

  Violet grinned at Jack, who tapped the top of the auto twice. Violet put it in gear and drove down the drive.

  “We’re going to die,” Geoffrey muttered over and over again.

  “You might,” Violet told him flatly.

  He gave her scathing look. Violet pulled the auto over. “Did you want me to send you back to Father to see what he has in store for you if this doesn’t work out?”

  Geoffrey’s eyes widened.

  “Perhaps he’ll send you to some remote part of the world. You know our Victorian relatives used to send their unwanted sons to India. Fail or thrive but so far away that they didn’t have to be involved. I’m sure Father could find the modern equivalent if you push him.”

  “Mother won’t let him,” Geoffrey said with that same scathing look. “She’d never let him do that to me.”

  “It’s interesting that you don’t doubt Father is tempted,” Violet told Geoffrey gently. “You know she wasn’t very successful in stopping Jack from hauling you down the stairs and out of the city.”

  Geoffrey snapped his mouth shut and stared out the window. He sniffed. For a moment she was afraid he was crying, but no. Not the blighter Geoffrey.

  Violet wanted to slap the back of his head. She wanted to shake sense into him. She wanted to somehow share all of the things that she’d learned about living when you didn’t have a mother to take care of every little thing. He seemed to truly believe that he could behave however he wanted and everyone would just keep accepting it.

  Instead of acting on any of her fantasies, she just sighed and pulled the auto back onto the road. “Geoffrey, no one can make you stop being a wart. If you want to risk Father’s wrath, keep being impossible. I assure you that Jack and I have our limits and will eventually throw you back to Father.”

  Geoffrey didn’t answer and Violet stopped focusing on him to focus on the direction between her country house and her twin’s. Victor’s house was on the other side of the village near the river while Jack’s was tucked into the hills and closer to the thickest part of the wood.

  Violet parked the auto outside of Victor’s house and saw her brother walking with Kate along the side. She got out of the car, leaving Geoffrey behind, and threw herself at her twin. He swung her around and then dropped her back on her feet as she exclaimed over Kate. The baby had gotten so big, Kate seemed as though she might burst. There was an uncomfortable expression on her face, and Violet gently kissed both of Kate’s cheeks.

  “Hello, my darling love,” Violet told Kate, who smiled.

  “What’s this?” Victor asked as Geoffrey finally got out of the car. He walked towards the twins with such utterly expressive moroseness that Violet felt as though he could be the living personification of Oizys, goddess of Misery. “How did you get saddled with him?”

  Violet glanced at her twin with such a meaningful look that he snorted. “I don’t know how it happened. It’s all a blur.”

  “Hello there, Geoffrey. Nice to see you, old man.” Victor held out his hand to be shook, but Geoffrey just scowled at it as though it were a snake.

  “You don’t like me any more than Violet does,” Geoffrey told Victor flatly. “You both hate my mother and you’re jealous of me.”

  Victor blinked. “Well, all right then. Did you want to go tell yourself sad tales in the garden or did you want to go inside?”

  Geoffrey seemed offended at Victor’s light voice. “You don’t deny it?”

  “I’ve long since learned the futility of arguing with a child,” Victor said. “I can see that you’re determined to be difficult. I don’t intend to play games with you.”

  “I’m not a child,” Geoffrey snapped. “I’m not playing any game.”

  “Of course, you’re behaving just as a man does.” The mockery in Victor’s voice made Geoffrey flush, but he didn’t leave. He just backed off enough to listen without having to fully interact.

  “We’ve come to invite you over on Saturday.” Violet took Kate’s hand. “Don’t feel as though you must come. I don’t want you to be miserable. We’re going to have Jack’s relatives over and they’re rather a pack of blighters,” Violet told Kate honestly. “You should feel free to stay home. If you want to come, I’m going to do a sort of chocolate-themed evening.”

  “Oh chocolate,” Kate said with a moan. “It makes my heart burn now. How I miss it!”

  Violet noted a wince on Kate’s face, and Violet wanted to ask if the baby was on the way, but it she didn’t want to send Victor in a spiral if it was happening. Instead she said, “I’ll buy you the biggest box you’ve ever seen once Vi Junior arrives.”

  Kate smiled, and Violet tucked her arm through Kate’s. “Tell me everything.”

  They wandered towards the house and into the parlor where they continued chattering. When Geoffrey finally fell asleep, no doubt from his night of excess and morning of pain, Victor asked, “How did you get Geoffrey?”

  “Father is hoping that you and Denny and Jack will be a good influence on him. Father’s worried.”

  “So am I,” Victor said softly. He shook his head. “His mother doesn’t have money, not like ours did, Vi, and we barely made it wit
h our allowance, the money from Mama, and our book sales. Especially since we shared expenses. Gerald will let Geoffrey live at the house, but what man wants to live off of his brother?”

  “Maybe you should give him money,” Kate suggested softly. Her motherly gaze landed on Geoffrey with a sympathy that neither Violet nor Victor could muster. “You could afford to give him an allowance too.”

  Victor shook his head. “We can’t do that with Aunt Agatha’s money. She didn’t do it for us. It would dishonor her. It would be one thing to bring him traveling with us, but to actually support him, she’d never have approved.”

  “Father will see to it that Geoffrey is educated,” Violet said. “He’d be able to work if he wanted to. Any position that you can get with an education, along with his allowance from Father, would be enough to live well.”

  “You two lived so poorly before your aunt’s money that you forget,” Kate reminded them. “Didn’t you say your rooms smelled?”

  Violet laughed and then admitted, “Oh, they did! They were so awful. Dark and dank.”

  “We did spend rather a lot of money dancing and going to dinner,” Victor said. “He should be able to as well.”

  Kate sniffled. “I can understand Lady Eleanor’s worry. She wants her son to have what his father provided.”

  “None of us are getting that,” Violet told Kate with a laugh. “Only Gerald, and it won’t be the same. With death duties and a smaller fortune, Gerald’s children will be in the same spot as Geoffrey is. The days of living off the past are mostly gone.”

  “It’s a whole new world,” Victor agreed. “For better or worse. Maybe Geoffrey will find a passion in school and it’ll be easy for him to know what he wants to do. He’ll be like Denny’s brother, who went off to dig up the past, or like Jack, who was always meant to find criminals.”

  They stayed past tea, which they woke Geoffrey to take, and when Violet returned to the house with Geoffrey, she found Anderson Wakefield and Grandfather Wakefield sitting in the parlor. They were ensconced in the most comfortable chairs, and Violet watched from the doorway for a moment. Jack was telling his grandfather a tale that—to her surprise—was the one where they’d met Kate. It hadn’t ended well. They’d caught the murderer, but both Violet and Kate had been rather beat up.

  She didn’t realize Geoffrey had stayed with her until he asked, “Is that true? You were hurt that badly?”

  Violet looked over her shoulder at Geoffrey. “Well…yes.”

  “Why did you interfere again? Why do either of you interfere in the deaths?”

  Violet’s head tilted and she told him honestly. “Lots of reasons. You can’t let killers get away with their crimes. I’m enraged on behalf of the victim. Someone else I care about is in danger.”

  “Why does Jack let you?” Geoffrey demanded. “Father would have been devastated to lose another child.”

  Violet blinked rather rapidly to keep a rush of emotion away at this flash of humanity in her brother. Violet tucked her arm through Geoffrey’s good one and smiled at him. “I fear I’ve never been very obedient. I suppose we have that in common.”

  Her wart of a brother grinned at her. “I still don’t want to be here.”

  “Well, what did you want instead, boy?” Grandfather Wakefield demanded.

  Geoffrey glanced over at Jack’s elderly grandfather in surprise. “I don’t know. Not this.”

  “If you don’t know what you want, what does it matter where you are?”

  Geoffrey glanced about and then said sullenly, “I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much.”

  “How is Kate?” Jack asked to change the subject, Violet was sure.

  “She’s quite ready to be done, I think,” Violet admitted. She let Jack seat her near the teapot and she poured herself a cup, freshening everyone else’s cup as well.

  “Will she be coming to your chocolate night?” Uncle Anderson asked. “I am quite looking forward to it. Even Hyacinth seemed intrigued when I told her of it. Her and the children.”

  Violet shook her head and then turned to Jack. Denny and Lila weren’t about, but Violet was guessing that they were either sleeping off the long day of traveling or had decided to escape into a ramble rather than listen to Jack’s family fight again. It seemed, though, when you had the patriarch and his eldest son, no one wanted to argue.

  Perhaps it was because those two, at least, understood each other. Violet wondered if Anderson was aware of what was in this all-secret will. He hadn’t embraced Hyacinth’s plan for him to retire as well, but Violet had seen him take a small white pill several times now. Maybe Hyacinth was right, maybe Anderson should retire as well. Surely he didn’t want to work his way to the grave?

  Chapter 9

  “She put the local woman who supplied her into the business plan,” Violet told Jack two evenings later as she placed her diamond and gold bangles on her wrists. “The clever creature.”

  “She took your measure well. Would you have offered to help a random male on a train?”

  Violet laughed and then admitted, “I wouldn’t have ended up talking to one. My husband might have caught me.”

  “He seems like a terrifying fellow,” Jack told her as he handed her the case for her pearls.

  “Oh, he is. A mountain of a man. Big enough to toss some fellow from the train and no one the wiser.”

  “That sounds like the plot of one of your books.”

  “I might just do that,” Violet said with a grin. “Is it just me or did Geoffrey become almost tolerable?”

  “I was wondering if you’d given him a talking-to and somehow convinced him to start behaving.”

  Violet shook her head, rising. It was a summer’s evening, and her dress was a white shimmery sheath that reached her ankles, flaring out around her hips. A long slit up the back allowed her full movement. She adjusted her pearls around her neck and kissed Jack before she put on her lipstick.

  “He fell asleep,” Violet said. “Maybe he isn’t so bad when he’s rested up. Or the pain medication for his arm is calming him down.”

  Jack didn’t seem to think that was the case, but Violet couldn’t account for it any other way. She shook her head and made her way down to the dining room. They were serving a light dinner to counteract the flood of sweetness that would come at their guests with the chocolate evening.

  Mariposa was wearing a simple black dress and arranging cakes on tiered trays. Next to her was a tray of small cakes, each different, each with a family member’s name written in chocolate on it. Violet gasped as she looked them over.

  “What a fun idea,” Violet said, “I feel certain you’ll need to come to London for one of our parties with these. Can’t you see it, Jack? Rollerskating in the ballroom, personalized cakes on the buffet with potted shrimps and patê sandwiches.”

  Jack had tangled their smallest fingers together as they ooohed over the display. Violet took one of the chocolate-covered cherries and popped it in her mouth. Jack started to speak but Violet held up a hand and closed her eyes, savoring the chocolate as Denny intended.

  The family had arrived that afternoon, but Violet had been engrossed in her book. She’d objected to leaving her work, but she’d made conversation, sent tea trays to bedrooms, and ensured that everyone had what they needed before she escaped back to her typewriter. She and Victor had laid out their current book before he’d left London, and she needed to hand over her pages that evening. Kate had sent him along and stayed home herself.

  She and Jack entered the parlor where Victor was chatting with a nearly cheerful Geoffrey. Certainly it had to be the medication. Violet greeted Jack’s family and made her way to her brothers. As she approached, she heard Victor say, “There’s an art to it. Good gin goes down easier than terrible gin, but it’s always better when you mix it. Mixing is where the fun comes. Vi, darling, I’ve brought you chocolate liqueur.”

  To Geoffrey, Victor said, “Vi loves ginger. This is a little ginger beer, a little chocolate liqueur, a
nd a little gin.” Victor let Geoffrey sip a swallow from one glass while he poured Violet another glass.

  She sipped. “I think that might be better with some juice, Victor love. How is my Kate?”

  Violet handed her drink to Jack and let him sip. He shuddered a little. “I could go with an old-fashioned. My grandfather prefers just whiskey.”

  Violet grinned at Grandfather Wakefield. “Are you certain you don’t wish to be a little more adventurous?”

  There was a bit of a dare in her voice, and he scoffed, “With ginger beer?”

  Vi shrugged. “The dare is in combining ginger and chocolate.”

  Grandfather Wakefield accepted the drink and Violet grinned as he sipped it. He shuddered and then set the glass to the side. “That’s like a dessert that burns.”

  Violet laughed. “I blame Victor. Using bad gin.”

  Victor grinned at Violet’s teasing. “I save the good stuff for myself. Geoffrey and I are conserving in case you get out of hand, Vi. Then we’ll muffle your madness with gin.”

  Violet faked a gasp, placing her hand over her heart. She faced Geoffrey, who had been almost decent lately. “I understand you caught some trout today, Geoffrey. Despite that arm of yours.”

  He nodded with a little blush.

  “I, however, caught the most,” Grandfather Wakefield. “I still have my touch from my boyhood.”

  “Come now, Father,” Anderson said, grinning at his father. They had, both of them, lost a bit of the tenseness that they carried incessantly. “I believe I was only a fish behind you.”

  “Whereas I,” Jack said, “failed miserably. I only got babies.”

  Violet laughed at the consternation of Jack’s face.

  “We’ll go again after the baby,” Victor told Jack. “Geoffrey is going to need more practice once he gets past his beginner’s luck.”

  Violet only just heard Geoffrey ask Victor, “You’d take me?” It felt like a weighted question or maybe Violet just wanted it to be.