by Beth Byers
“Let’s not die,” Violet said after they slid sideways for the third time. “Please. I have plans for my holidays that includes fun, not the next life.”
“What are we planning?” Victor asked, taking her hand. She had her fingers tangled with Jack’s on one side, Victor’s on the other, while Denny drove the car slowly.
“Roller-skates!” Violet announced. “I sent Beatrice out for them when I heard Denny and Lila had a ballroom.”
Lila glanced back, mouth agape. “You clever girl. Did you get enough?”
“My house has a ballroom,” Victor declared. “I think. I’m not quite sure.”
“I got some for you too,” Violet said, pressing her face into Jack’s shoulder and squeezing her eyes closed when they slid again. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Clever girl, indeed,” Victor said. “Look, we’re here. Denny, old lad, we’d better let Violet and Lila out at the doors. Their shoes are not meant for slush and mud.”
“I’m sure they’ll have someone parking cars,” Denny said. He turned off the motor while Jack stepped out and handed Violet out after him. She was followed by Victor, who took one look at the sidewalk, put an arm around his sister’s waist and lifted her a few inches from the ground. He carried her to the entrance with her laughter ringing out to their party. Denny followed suit with Lila.
Near the coatroom, Violet grinned at Jack and winked at Victor as she opened her coat. It wasn’t a teasing move, but she knew her dress would be arresting. They both paused and Jack said, “By Jove, Violet! You can only dance with me, Victor, or Denny. Anyone else might kidnap you, thinking they found Artemis, herself, dancing among mankind.”
“You do look amazing.” Lila’s gaze darted to Jack, and she lifted her brows up and down. He didn’t notice since his gaze was fixed on Violet, who spun, laughing, while she let her fringe fly.
“It does get hot at these parties.” She grinned when Victor snorted. Their merriness was broken by a female shout.
“Stop it, Robert! I don’t care what you imagined. It’s not going to happen.” Whatever reply he made, it was too low for the rest of them to hear, but the woman said, “No! I said no, and I mean it. Leave me be. I can’t believe…”
A moment later, the sound of heels clicking against the aged wood floors of the public ballroom ended with Harriet, whose face was flushed with anger. Her face smoothed a moment later and she said, “Hullo, there! Have you come to see me sing? I have been running scales and drinking hot tea to prepare for my jazzy versions of Jingle Bells and Deck the Halls. Are you ready?” She glanced around, took in Violet, and said, “Oh Violet! You do look lovely!”
“Thank you, darling,” Violet replied. “I love your Santa Claus-inspired dress. The white fur, the red silk—perfection.”
Harriet grinned happily, winked at them all, and said, “I must be off. The show can’t start without me!”
Jack tucked Violet’s hand through his while Lila glanced at Victor and said, “Let’s find you Kate before Martha finds you first. It’ll be harder to shake Martha once she’s got her claws in.”
Victor winced and Lila laughed. “Ah, the sweet burdens of being a swell, handsome cove.”
Chapter 8
Harriet’s voice rolled out like a deep, low hum from the stage. A moment later she started singing and Violet paused in Jack’s hands, turning to stare. Jack’s hand stayed steady on her. His palm passed over her back, her side, and when she stopped, the heat of it was against her stomach. She shivered and stepped back into his heat, letting him surround her. She had liked the feeling of his largeness from the first time he’d towered over her, but this way…this way was something that hinted at more. She loved it.
Violet shivered again as Harriet’s voice took her breath away. “She’s amazing.”
Jack mmm’d in acknowledgement, his hand pressing just a little harder into her stomach, holding her against him. They were in a crowd on the darkened dance floor, but it felt almost as though they were alone.
Jack’s hand left her stomach and trailed down her arm, twining their fingers together. Violet snapped out of the other world she had been in and glanced around. Several men were watching Harriet sing from near the base of the stage as though they were seeing something more than the girl in the red and white dress pour her heart into the microphone. Among those men were Robert and Donald. Were the other two the thrown-over lovers or had they not come to see Harriet sing?
The room was simple enough. A large rectangle with space for people to gather. There was a makeshift stage near the center of the room with the band already set up on it. The chandeliers overhead were dimmed enough to provide a shadowy room to dance and flirt in. One end of the hall held a bar where several men were making drinks and selling them. There was also a dining room where you could buy dinner or nibbles if you wanted to partake. Tables were set up at the back of the room with pitchers of water and the little edibles that were included with the price of the ticket.
Violet glanced up at Jack and found he had been looking at her rather than Harriet. Vi smiled at him and then directed his gaze to the men who were staring up at Harriet. She seemed to have a good half-dozen lovers, but maybe it was just the music that entranced them? Jack moved her back off of the dance floor to listen to the music and fresh their throats with a Gin & Tonic. It had been dressed up with a splash of something red and held a sprig of mint. Violet munched a piece of ice. They finished their drinks and listened to the music. Once they were done, Vi followed Jack back to the dance floor. She wasn’t sure how long they danced for, but when they stopped for another drink Harriet had left the stage, their friends were lost in the darkness and smoke, and Violet—despite her scrap of a dress—was sweating.
“Did you want to get some fresh air?” Jack asked as he leaned down to her. She shivered at the feel of his lips against her ear and nodded. He led them past the bar where they found another red drink—this one floating with some sort of red berry—and then out to a covered patio.
The scent of smoke in the air said that someone had been here already, but they had come and gone. There was, however, a bench that was dry under the overhang and Jack pulled Violet to it. They shivered in the cold outside—the difference was drastic—and Jack put his evening jacket around Violet’s bared shoulders.
She sipped her drink, winced at the sour flavor, and then said, “I feel like I’ve escaped more than just the city. I…I’ve been so glum. Since we got on the train to come here, I’ve been startled by how much better I feel.”
Jack watched her carefully by the light of the party pouring out through the windows. “I have been feeling a change. To be honest, I thought I had lost you.”
She started.
“I had decided that if things were still different between us, I was going to let you go and try to move on from you.”
She froze. She hadn’t expected him to be so open. Things had, however, been different between them since she’d left with Isolde. Their burgeoning romance had stuttered to a terrible halt when Violet left for too long and then Jack found her with the man who had proposed and clearly loved her.
Since returning to London, even though Tomas, the man in question, had traveled onto Monaco, they’d barely seen each other. Jack had worked several cases. His absences had been interspersed with awkward dinners or dancing with friends where she’d felt that she was more obligation than desired partner. That had all gone away since coming here though.
“I have been glum,” she admitted. “The holidays coming and not having Aunt Agatha this time…it’s been hard. Harder than I thought it would be. It caught me unaware, to be honest.”
Jack tucked a hair that had escaped her snowflake bobby pins. “I have decided to stop letting cases get in the way of what I want.”
Her heart was in her throat as she asked, “And what do you want?” Her gaze was fixed on his and the way he looked at her—she’d never felt that intensity before.
His simple answer stole her b
reath. “You. Do you think you could see your way to letting me into your life? Perhaps exclusively to other gentlemen?”
It wasn’t a proposal—and honestly, she wouldn’t have been comfortable saying yes to one at that moment. Not after the last few months of distance between them, but it was—in fact—just what she wanted.
“I could do that,” she said, biting her lip. She could feel herself trembling and wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the shock of his honesty.
He leaned towards her. This was going to be it. And before she could analyze what was happening too much, he pressed his lips lightly against hers. It was a simple kiss, but he stole her mind away with it. With the heat of him, with the exchange of their breath, with the way his body blocked hers from the wind—from the world. He took her wits and with them, he might have taken her heart and stolen his way into her dreams. She could barely think as he pressed closer. Instead, she simply opened her mouth to him.
A moment, an age, she wasn’t sure how long, but it passed and with it, she leaned back to catch her breath.
Jack’s sharp gaze crossed her face. She wondered what he saw with that too-clever gaze. Whatever it was, he cupped her chin, turning her up to him and leaned slowly in. Violet leaned towards him, ready to feel his nearness and heat again when an unholy shriek broke the moment. The band came to a horrible crashing end, and they stared at each other before turning to the window.
Vi gasped and Jack tucked her close as though he could save her from whatever had happened. Shouts broke through the shocked silence and someone screamed, “Send for the police. A doctor! Is anyone a doctor here?”
Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He cursed, letting his hand drop away from her face. He stood, pulled her to her feet, and pulled her behind him.
“I want you with me or Victor until we know what is wrong.”
She wasn’t prepared for him to take over protecting her quite so quickly. She blinked dazedly as he led her back into the party. They followed the sound of screaming, Jack pushing through the crowd when there were too many bodies until they reached a back hallway. It was the sort of sterile, useful hallway used by servants. Which explained why they could see several uniformed men standing next to a serving girl who was crying into a handkerchief. There, in a closet, was whatever made the serving girl weep.
One servant was preventing anyone from coming down the hallway, but Jack spoke to him quickly and pulled Violet after him as he stepped forward to see what the trouble was.
“Did anyone send for a doctor?” the girl asked. “Is someone coming to help?”
“It’s too late, Jenny,” the tallest of the serving men said. “It’s too late for her.”
Jack pressed Violet’s hand, and she understood his silent order to stay back. He stepped forward, saying, “I work for Scotland Yard.”
He looked into the closet, his jaw flexed, and Violet was sure that whatever he saw—it wasn’t good.
He stepped back out. “Someone send for the local constabulary!”
One of the servants nodded and then added, “Nathan Jones went. He’s the fastest of us, and his cousin is one of the bobbies.”
Jack nodded. “We’ll need a doctor as well to make the official call.”
“What do we do?” The other serving man asked.
“The police will be here soon. They’ll need to take the names of whoever is here with their addresses. You just keep them from leaving,” Jack commanded. “Sort out those who might have been around the girl. The band, her family, friends. The police will want to speak to them as quickly as possible. Keep the servants here. Did you find her?” The last question was for the servant girl.
She nodded into the handkerchief, wailed, and then said, “There…there…someone got sick on the floor. I needed to mop it up. I…she…I…”
Jack nodded, pressed her shoulder and said, “There now. It’s all right. Why don’t you take a seat and wait for the policeman to talk to you?”
She nodded, still crying into her hands as Jack turned to Violet. His face was blank and solemn as he said, “It’s Harriet, Vi.”
Violet had guessed when he’d mentioned the band but hoped it wasn’t true. She took a step back, her whole body screaming no while she didn’t make a sound. It couldn’t be her. She had the voice of an angel. She’d been laughing in the parlor just the other day. Her cheeks had been so lovely from the cold after the sleigh ride. Violet had liked Harriet. She shook her head, but Jack didn’t take back what he’d said.
“No,” she told him. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t.
He nodded and she bit her lip. He didn’t need her to fall apart. Harriet needed him at his best. That was all that was left for Violet to do for Harriet. She took the crying servant girl to the chairs at the end of the hallway. They had to pass by the closet to reach that spot and Jack stepped in front of the doorway, blocking her view, but Violet didn’t turn to see Harriet. Vi didn’t want that in her mind. Her hand was shaking as she took the serving girl’s hand and pulled the girl into a chair.
“Oh, Miss,” she said, sniffling. “Oh, Miss! It was horrible!”
Violet took a slow breath in as she carefully replied, “Please don’t tell me about it. I…I’ve seen a dead body before, and I don’t want to add to the burden.”
The girl nodded, sniffling until Victor came running around the corner. “Vi! By Jove, Vi! I couldn’t find you. There was screaming and they were saying a girl was dead. By…bloody hell, bloody, bloody hell.” He stopped swallowed and repeated, “I couldn’t find you.” He was followed by Kate, Denny, and Lila. “They said we had to come. That it was one of our party, and you weren’t there.”
He hauled Vi out of her chair and clutched her. “You are not allowed to die first. Or to be taken early at all. My God, Vi…” Victor collapsed into the chair looking up at her dazedly and then he slowly asked, “Who was it?”
“It’s Harriet,” Violet said softly. “Harriet is dead.”
“Strangled,” the serving girl said, with another wail. “Strangled good and dead. Horrible. It’s horrible.”
Violet shuddered, as did Kate. Lila turned and pressed her face into Denny’s chest. The only sound Lila made was a soft, “Oh!”
Harriet belonged to Lila’s side of the family while Kate belonged to Denny’s. For Kate, she wasn’t personally losing. For Lila—it would be far more difficult.
“We should have…” Lila started and then paused as if she realized there was nothing that could have been done. It wasn’t as though they’d abandoned Harriet to her fate or left her to monsters. They hadn’t behaved poorly with Harriet. “Where is my sister? Denny? Denny, would you find her?”
He nodded and pushed Lila into Violet’s arms. Victor rose shakily and went to find more chairs. He’d just seated all the women when the first of the policemen arrived.
“What’s this now?” the constable demanded. He was younger than Violet expected, with clever eyes, a plaid suit, and a large belly. “What’s this about a murder? That can’t be right, can it?”
Jack stepped away from the wall where he had been taking notes and talking to members of the band. “I’m…”
He paused and the two men stared at each other.
“Captain?” The round policeman breathed.
“Pomeroy!” Jack said, striding forward to shake his hand vigorously. “My friend! I’m afraid I intruded on your patch, old man. I fear I was here and couldn’t quite help myself.”
“Oh that’s all right,” the man said. He grinned widely, glanced into the closet, and then turned pale. “By Jove, Captain!” He pressed a hand to his chest for a moment and then shook his head. “To be honest, I’d have been calling for help anyway. You work with the Yard, don’t you?”
Jack nodded once and then the policeman, Pomeroy, said, “Well, I’ll get it all sorted out and we’ll use you, if we can.”
It was amazing to see how other people saw Jack, Violet thought. For her family, he was reaching a bit given her wealth and th
e fact that her father was an earl. To these men, however, he was eminently capable. She was the lucky one in their eyes. Or she would have been if they knew of their growing feelings.
This Pomeroy was relieved to see Jack. Surely, whatever his rank, this man was a good policeman? It was natural, however, for him to hand the burden of Harriet’s…oh goodness, Harriet’s murder over to Jack.
Violet bit her lip and a tear welled. She couldn’t help but think of that haunting voice. Harriet’s voice had been so beautiful, so startling, she had pulled Violet to a stop. She had been so vital that man after man had fallen in love with her. Despite, it seemed, her allure for more than one person and her inability to stick to just one man. Was that what had killed her?
Why would anyone kill her? She couldn’t have been wrapped up in anything truly evil, could she? Violet wanted to shriek, but instead, she reached over and took Kate’s hand and then Lila’s. The three of them watched as Pomeroy and Jack conferred and then Kate said, “I suppose I didn’t realize that your Jack was quite so…officially reliable.”
Violet didn’t reply to that. She was trying to figure out why someone would murder Harriet. She hadn’t been a saint, but she had been lovely, fun, talented, and beloved of her family. Who would kill a girl like that? It had to be one of the lovers, Violet knew. Of course, it was. Harriet had just broken off an engagement with two different men. A good half-dozen had been staring up at her with stars in their eyes. It must be one of them.
Chapter 9
The policemen moved through the members of the band while the doctor came and examined Harriet. Their little group had been kept at the end of the hallway while others were brought to stand near them by one of the uniformed policemen.
It took a while, but Denny eventually returned with Martha while they waited. It wasn’t until they returned that Violet realized it had taken far too long for Denny to find Martha. Given the rage on Denny—Denny’s—face, Violet guessed that wherever he’d found Martha, it was the kind of story that you wouldn’t want to tell your Mama.
