Murder by Midnight

by Blythe Baker

  “Oh,” Lady Drummond sighed. “There is my husband. Walter, our guests have arrived.”

  “I see that,” he called back, chuckling to himself. “That is why I’ve come out to greet them, my beloved.”

  My mother had been right about Lady Drummond’s husband. He was not a weak man at all. Thick and squared at every corner, he would have been imposing had it not been for the constant smile spread across his face. I’d only just met him, but I knew it was constant because of the deep wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. It was obvious he was a joyous man, and I caught myself thinking it wouldn’t be bad to be married to a man like that. Perhaps, I could give his sons a chance, after all. Though, just as quickly as the thought entered my mind, I batted it away.

  “This is Lady Ashton and her daughter, Alice Beckingham,” Lady Drummond said, introducing us.

  “Violet has hardly stopped talking of your arrival since we received word,” he told us. “She is quite excited to have you both. As am I, of course.”

  If the exterior of the house looked straight out of a storybook, the inside, despite the rumors, was more modern. It was true there was no electricity, so everything was illuminated with natural daylight and flickering lamps spread strategically around, but it had a cozy feeling I hadn’t expected. Rugs covered the stone floors, colorful and plush beneath our feet, and artwork and tapestries covered every wall from floor to ceiling and corner to corner.

  “Violet,” my mother gasped. “Your home is lovely.”

  Lady Drummond flushed from the compliment. “Thank you. We do enjoy it. I know many people think we are mad to live in this old place, but I find it charming. It is a piece of history we get to experience every day.”

  “I think it is magnificent.” My mother nudged me. “What do you think, Alice?”

  Lady Drummond and her husband turned their attention to me eagerly, and I could see them imagining me in the castle with one of their sons. For that reason, I kept my praise light.

  “It is beautiful.”

  The lady of the house raised her eyebrows slightly and then she smiled.

  “How about a tour? Or would you prefer to go up to your rooms and refresh yourselves first? Dinner is still some hours away, but I know how exhausting the journey from London can be. If you would rather change out of your travel clothes and rest until evening –”

  “No, no,” Mama interrupted. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, we would be much more interested in being shown around your beautiful home, wouldn’t we, Alice?”

  I nodded in polite agreement and the Drummonds beamed, clearly pleased by our appreciation of their home.

  My mother fawned over every room we entered, and I nodded along, signing my name to her compliments, although I couldn’t conjure any of my own. My mind was too preoccupied thinking about the reason I was in the castle in the first place.

  A few years before, I would have been thrilled at the opportunity to spend a week on holiday and meet a young man in the process. There had been few things I wanted more than to be treated as an adult and for boys to pay attention to me. Now, however, I longed for experience more than adoration. I wanted to be like my cousin Rose who lived all around the world and experienced other places and cultures. I could do without the tragedy that derailed her life, of course, and the year she had to spend secretly assuming someone else’s identity. But once the truth came out and she was free to live as Rose, her life was ideal. After a year of excitement and travel, she married Achilles Prideaux—a man who understood her nature and tendencies and even wanted to encourage her curiosity. Could there truly be two such men in existence?

  My father and mother had always been happy enough, but theirs was not a relationship I cared to emulate. Lord and Lady Drummond seemed to make a good pair from what little I had seen of them, but I couldn’t imagine Lord Drummond would be smiling quite as often if his wife spurned her wifely duties in favor of solving a mystery the way Rose was known to do. And could the Drummond sons stray too far from the temperament of their father? I didn’t believe so.

  The truth was, I did not know exactly what kind of wife I would be, but I knew I would not be the kind of wife who met guests at the door with a wide smile, armed with shoes that matched my dress and flattering compliments. I would be something else entirely, and I had yet to meet a man who could handle that. Until I did, I had no intention of settling down.

  We moved through the sitting room, dining room, and the library, which had a set of double doors that opened onto a stone balcony with exterior steps that delivered us onto a large, flat lawn. Flowers and shrubbery ran the length of the stone walls and framed a walking path that led from the castle to a more modern outbuilding that housed the family’s cars. The driver was pulling the car we had arrived in through a large swinging door as Lady Drummond pointed it out to us.

  When we walked back into the library, we were met with two new members of the party standing in the middle of the room. I recognized them at once, my stomach dropping at the sight of them.

  “Vivian. Charles,” my mother said, turning to each in turn, her eyes wide, a smile that looked only slightly forced spreading across her face. “I never would have expected to run into you here.”

  “Oh, yes,” Lady Drummond said. “I invited Mr. and Miss Barry to stay with us, as well. Remember, they were guests at the same London party where you and I met?”

  “Now that you mention it, I do recall that,” Mama said, only a slight tremor at the corner of her mouth betraying her feelings were anything but pleasure.

  Lady Drummond continued, “They arrived only yesterday. I knew you’d be pleased to see one another as I understand your Somerset estates are neighboring and you are all friends.”

  “Old friends,” my mother said quickly, embracing the vibrantly blonde Vivian Barry in a tight hug. “It has been far too long since we have seen one another.”

  If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed Mama’s show of joy. However, I knew all too well that neither the Beckinghams nor the Barrys had reason to feel anything but dismay at finding ourselves in one another’s company again. Considering the way one tragedy or another seemed to occur every time our two families met, we had formed sort of an unspoken understanding in recent years to avoid running into one another.

  Still, I tried to keep my expression neutral. There was no point in betraying to our hosts that this particular surprise was not a welcome one. It was far too late for that.

  Vivian’s thoughts must have been similar to mine, because she politely hid whatever unease she may have felt at discovering the identities of her fellow guests. She hugged my mother back, looking over her shoulder at me and saying, “Hello, Alice.”

  I nodded to both of the Barrys, though Charles showed little interest in being overly friendly. Like his sister, he could not be too pleased at this odd coincidence, even if good manners did not allow him to show it.

  He was just as blonde as his sister, but where her expression was infused with kindness, his was harder, more serious. I recalled him always being emotional in his youth, but the cynicism was a new development in the last few years. I could scarcely blame him. Everyone who knew the pair of siblings enjoyed their company, but it was hard to discourage the rumors that spread about them. Nothing too sinister, but their lasting singleness sparked curiosity. At one time, they had each shown interest in my own siblings, but clearly that had not gone as planned.

  “I have already given you both a tour, but you are more than welcome to join us,” Lady Drummond offered.

  “Your home is beautiful, and I think I could wander the halls for weeks, but we were just headed out for some fresh air,” Vivian said with a smile. “But we will see you all at dinner tonight.”

  Charles nodded in agreement with his sister and then pointed to a display case affixed to the wall. In it were a series of old weapons, though they were clean and shiny like they had just been purchased. “When Lord Drummond is available, I’d love to
learn more about his antique weapon collection.”

  We had lost Lord Drummond somewhere along the tour, but his wife assured Charles his request could be arranged.

  “Charming people,” Lady Drummond said when they had gone. “My husband teased me that I made so many friends in London it would be more convenient for us to move there, rather than have them all join us at the castle.”

  Lady Drummond showed us the kitchen with original stone fireplaces and then led us down a long hall and into a large room with impossibly high ceilings and elaborate stained glass windows set into the back wall.

  “This is the ballroom,” she said, her voice echoing off the stone. “It was likely used as a chapel at one point in the castle’s history.”

  “It’s breathtaking,” I said, impressed despite myself.

  “It is,” agreed a voice from behind me.

  I turned to see a young man with the same auburn-colored hair as Lady Drummond and the same square jaw as Lord Drummond looking at me, a clever smile tilting his mouth up in a smile. It was not difficult to guess who he might be.

  “Oh, Alastair,” Lady Drummond said fondly. “Flirting before you’ve even been properly introduced.”

  He extended his hand to me at once, bowing slightly. “Alastair, son of Lady Drummond.” Then, he lifted his brows. “You must be Alice.”

  I accepted his hand, allowing him to squeeze my fingers, but I did not say anything. It was evident from the moment he’d spoken that he had his sights set on winning me, a fact only highlighted by him referring to me as an “it.” I refused to play along with his game.

  His smile faltered slightly, but before I could take much notice of it, he dropped my hand and turned to my mother. “And Lady Ashton, I have heard a great deal about you.”

  My mother turned to Lady Drummond. “He is the third person to tell me that, so now I know it must be true.”

  Lady Drummond laughed. “Alastair is my youngest son. Gordon is my eldest.” Her expression seemed to tighten at the mention of her other son, but it smoothed over so quickly as to almost be unnoticeable. “I’m sure you will meet him shortly, as well.”

  “Wonderful to meet you, Alastair,” Mama said, flushing when he kissed the back of her hand. “Your mother spoke kindly of you, as well. She is very proud of you.”

  “That is because my mother is a saint,” Alastair said, beaming at his mother. “We are all lucky she puts up with any of us.”

  Lady Drummond waved her son away, but it was obvious she was charmed by him. Everyone seemed to be. A young housemaid came into the room while we were talking, and even she brightened at the sight of Alastair, her cheeks going pink when he smiled at her. Yes, he certainly had something about him.

  My mother kept glancing over at me, gauging my reaction to him. I did my best to keep my expression neutral, but really, I could think of nothing worse than marrying a charming man.

  People always took notice of a charming man. They felt special in his presence and enjoyed the attention he offered. The trouble, however, was that he paid that same attention to everyone. Alastair moved through a room, bestowing praise and smiles on all, so that it was impossible to know whether anyone in particular was special to him or not.

  Alastair accompanied us throughout the remainder of the tour, sticking close to my side, though only talking loud enough for the entire party to hear. This suited me just fine because it saved me the trouble of having to speak to him directly, as his mother or mine usually responded to his topic of conversation.

  When we returned to the entrance hall, Lord Drummond was standing there with a slim, black-haired young man. The newcomer was dressed in a dark suit and clutched an elegant walking stick. A hat was tucked beneath his arm, as if he’d only just arrived. His handsome features were serene and his bearing confident, yet his overly elaborate costume gave me the immediate impression of a man who liked to exaggerate his standing, possibly because he felt he had something to prove. Maybe he did not feel quite as at ease in this company as he wished to appear?

  However, when he turned his dark eyes on us, even across the distance, the boldness and hint of mystery in his gaze made me second guess my initial assessment. There was no lack of assurance in those eyes. For the briefest of moments, I felt my heart flutter, although I could not say why.

  The stranger smiled as we walked down the stairs toward him, the expression stretching the narrow black mustache lining his upper lip.

  The fluttering sensation I felt ended abruptly when Alastair called down to the stranger.

  “Sherborne Sharp,” he said, brushing past me to hurry down the stairs. “I wasn’t confident you would make it.”

  The newcomer smiled at him. “I would never miss a chance to mingle with the Drummond clan, my friend.” Then, he turned to me, head tilted to the side in mild interest. “Or with your guests.”

  Lady Drummond introduced us and then wrapped her arm around my mother’s elbow, pulling her close, though her voice was loud enough for all of us to hear. “Sherborne is an old school friend of Alastair’s. They studied together at Oxford. He is living in London now, but they still keep in touch.”

  It was unclear whether Lady Drummond approved of their closeness or not, but Lord Drummond’s broad smile showed no sign of flagging.

  Alastair draped an arm over his friend’s shoulder and led him into the sitting room and away from our party, the two of them falling into a lively conversation the rest of us were obviously not meant to be a part of. No one else seemed to find their hasty exit rude, so I pretended not to notice it either.

  “Well, that is the tour,” Lady Drummond said, moving over to stand with her husband, her arm around his waist. This family seemed incapable of existing without being wrapped around one another in some way or another. “There will be dinner tonight, but outside of meals, we have no planned schedule.”

  “Just because there is no strict schedule does not mean there are no activities,” Lord Drummond added. “There will be shooting parties and picnics, as well as fishing in the hill streams for the gentlemen – and any ladies intrepid enough to attempt it.”

  My mother tucked her hand around my lower back and pulled me close to her. It appeared the Drummond customs were already wearing off on her. “Intrepid is one of many words you could use to describe my Alice.”

  She’d said it loudly enough so as to catch the attention of Alastair and his friend through the open doorway of the sitting room, though they quickly returned to their own conversation.

  “Perhaps, though I’m not sure I count wading into a cold stream an especially good time,” I said with a smile. “I’d much prefer to stay indoors with a book.”

  “Are you not much for out of doors activities?” Lady Drummond asked. “That would certainly be a shame because we have wonderful stables.”

  “That was not part of the tour,” my mother cried.

  “Violet, you were holding out on them,” Lord Drummond said, nudging his wife. “Violet adores the stables. She would sleep with the horses if I let her.”

  “That is hardly true, though I dearly love to ride,” she said.

  “Alice is quite fond of riding,” my mother said. “It is a shame she does not get more opportunity to do it, as we spend so much of our time in the city these days.”

  “Then she must take every advantage of this opportunity while she is in Scotland,” Lady Drummond said, already turning towards the doorway of the sitting room. She raised her voice. “I’m sure Alastair could show her around our stables, if she would like a quick look at our horses.”

  “What is that you say? Are you making plans for me already, Mother?” Alastair asked cheerfully, appearing in the doorway.

  “No,” I said a touch more loudly than necessary. “A tour of the outdoors is not necessary. I am fine.”

  “You could show Alice to the stables,” Lady Drummond said, as though she had not heard me.

  Alastair nodded at once. “Of course I can.”

  I s
hook my head. “Your friend has only just arrived. I would not like to take you away from Mr. Sharp.”

  “Sherborne has been to visit us enough times that he knows his way around,” Alastair said, waving a dismissive hand towards his friend.

  “It’s true,” Sherborne Sharp put in, appearing at Alastair’s side. “Please do not refuse on my account.” His dark eyes seemed to dance a little, as if he guessed at my discomfort and it amused him.

  I decided then and there that Alastair’s friend was not somebody I wished to make a better acquaintance of. I had thought him attractive at first glance, but now I sensed he was the sort of man who enjoyed the embarrassment of others.

  Alastair remained insistent. “I’d be happy to show you, Alice,” he said.

  “Alastair doesn’t mind,” my mother added quickly, her eyes narrowed on me.

  “And I do not mind showing myself,” I said, stepping away from the group and moving towards the front door. “Just point in the general direction, and I’ll be happy to explore the beautiful grounds.”

  Alastair and his mother both opened their mouths as though to argue, but before they could, Lord Drummond stepped forward and gestured to his right. “The stables are down this direction. Stick close to the path, and you won’t miss them.”

  “Thank you.” I gave him the first genuine smile I’d had since arriving at the castle, bowed my head, and left quickly before Alastair Drummond could be rushed out the door and made to follow me.

  4

  My mother was exaggerating when she had said how much I enjoyed riding. I was competent enough at it, but it had never been a favorite activity of mine. Catherine, despite her occasionally icy exterior, was more of an animal lover than I ever was.

  I was eager to be out of the house, however, to escape the net of matrimony that I could feel both Lady Drummond and my mother attempting to close around me and Alastair. And so, I left the castle behind and followed the dirt path through a thick grove of trees and then exited the foliage to find a wooden building sitting in the middle of a pale green meadow.