Murder by Midnight

by Blythe Baker

  The stables looked as though they could have been covered in a kind of fairy magic. Moisture clung in the air, covering every surface in a soft shimmer. When I stepped inside and saw a pure white mare in the first stall, I couldn’t help but step closer.

  “Hello there,” I said softly, not wanting to startle the animal.

  She kicked at the ground gently but didn’t otherwise seem bothered by my sudden appearance. It was my guess that people were in and out of the stables often.

  There was a low wooden stool with a brush resting atop it pushed against the wall, and I walked towards that. “You wouldn’t mind if I sat, would you?”

  The horse kept eating, which I took as an invitation.

  The brush was wooden with coarse bristles and a strap that wrapped around the back of my hand. I picked it up to sit down and it fit naturally around my hand. Then, it seemed silly to wear the brush yet not touch the animal, so tenderly, I reached out and swiped the bristles across her powerful back leg. She shook her head, startling me for a moment, but then she quickly settled, and I stroked her again.

  Catherine had talked about the calming effect of horses. How she always felt at peace in their presence. It never made much sense to me until that moment. My time in Druiminn Castle had so far been spent dodging attempts to be partnered up with Alastair. For the first time since my arrival, it felt as though I could take a deep breath.

  The air felt sweeter here than in the city. Sweeter, even, than the air in Somerset. It smelled like damp grass and clean hay. I closed my eyes and sighed. “You know, this might be the best time I’ve had all day. How would you like to spend the next week together?”

  I laughed softly to myself, but then a deeper laugh joined mine. The sound came from behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The brush clattered to the ground, and I slammed back into the stable wall.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss.” The young man was standing just outside the stall. I couldn’t fathom how I hadn’t heard him approaching. He leaned against the wooden pillar and crossed his arms over his narrow chest. “I do believe I saw you spending time with my brother only a little while ago. Did he not impress?”

  My heart was still racing in my chest, eyes searching for the best path of escape should the situation require it, but I stopped at his words. “Your brother?”

  His lips stayed pressed together, but his eyebrow lifted in what could only be amusement, and I saw a flash of familial similarity. His hair was more red than brown, and his face was rounder, more like his mother’s.

  “You are Gordon Drummond?” I asked, remembering Lady Drummond mentioning his name before.

  He didn’t answer but instead kept talking. “You might be the first woman not to fall in love with my younger brother on sight. He can hardly smile at a woman without thoughts of marriage entering her head. I’m sure this development will be most upsetting to him.”

  Usually, I would have held my tongue when discussing a person with a member of their own family, but it was obvious to me that Gordon Drummond was not a man I needed to impress. At the very least, he was not a man I needed to lie to. So, I told him the truth.

  “I have no intention of upsetting your brother, but I have no interest in aligning myself with a flatterer,” I said, stepping away from the wall and brushing horse hair from the front of my skirt. My cream silk dress was far from the proper attire to wear to a stable, but I’d been eager enough to separate myself from both my mother and Alastair that I hardly noticed.

  “A flatterer,” Gordon repeated, saying the word like it was his first taste of a fine delicacy. “Do you find him insincere?”

  “Incredibly. He flatters everyone he meets, and I am not interested in being one of the many.”

  Gordon tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “You are Miss Alice Beckingham?”

  I nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard my name spoken prior to my arrival. It is my understanding that I am here to be paired with one of the young Drummond men.”

  “With Alastair,” Gordon corrected quickly. “He is the one my mother will want to pair you with.”

  Gordon was a handsome man, his features more delicate than his brother’s or father’s, his face and body leaner. I had the impression he could be easily broken, which was perhaps why his expression was so hard. He had to supplement in some way.

  “Why not you?” I asked, quickly adding, “Not that I am interested.”

  He released another laugh, this one sounding more genuine than the first, which despite his protestation, I suspected had been meant to alert me to his presence and startle me. “My mother has long since given up on me, I’m afraid. Alastair is the reason you are here.”

  “Why?” I asked again.

  He sighed like he was already weary with my presence, and I suspected that much in the same way Alastair only charmed people for his own benefit, Gordon only talked to people for his own. As soon as I stopped being a source of amusement for him, he would disappear just as quickly as he’d appeared. The statement I’d made to the horse still stood firm—being alone with her was the best time I’d had all day.

  “Alastair does what he is told,” Gordon said with no small amount of disdain. “He has always done what he is told, and our parents love him for that. It is why he has shown an interest in you despite possessing none.”

  I pursed my lips. “I feel I should be insulted.”

  Gordon’s mouth quirked up in a smirk that made him look remarkably like his brother. “I thought you did not like to associate with flatterers. If I was wrong, then forgive me, but I thought you would want to know the truth.”

  He caught me there. I had no interest in Alastair, so I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he also had none in me. From the moment I’d met him, I recognized his attentions for what they were—staged and pre-planned—so it shouldn’t wound my pride to hear those thoughts confirmed.

  The horse whinnied behind me, making me jump again, and I rushed forward out of the stall.

  “Never turn your back on an animal bigger than you,” Gordon said, closing the wooden gate behind me and shutting the mare inside.

  “What about people?” I asked. “Does the same hold true with them?”

  Gordon turned and, ignoring his own advice, pressed his back against the stall gate, the horse stamping its feet behind him. “In my experience, you shouldn’t turn your back on anyone, regardless of size.”

  I walked down the length of the stable, looking in at a dappled gray horse in the next stall over and a pig with her nursing piglets in the next. Being so far from London and so near to a castle gave me the feeling of being in another time.

  “So, I am meant for Alastair,” I said, turning to face Gordon again. He was in the same position as before, his eyes still trained on me as though he expected me to lash out and cause some kind of mischief. “Who here is meant for you? Vivian and Charles Barry have been here since yesterday. Does your mother intend Vivian for you?”

  “Even if she did, it wouldn’t change my opinion on the matter,” he said. “I have no interest in anyone here, and I will not allow my life to be dictated by my mother’s wishes.”

  “It seems we are in agreement there,” I said.

  He nodded and then quickly looked over his shoulder to see that the horse had turned in her stall and was chewing on a large bite of hay just behind him. “My mother tried to set me up with many respectable young ladies over the years, but I did not take to it as kindly as Alastair. He would follow my mother’s commands off the side of a cliff, I believe.”

  “Surely not,” I said, biting back a laugh.

  Gordon shrugged. “Perhaps we can convince her to test the theory. That would make great fun for me.”

  “It would be great fun to watch your brother walk off a cliff?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

  “It would be great fun to watch him walk to the edge,” Gordon clarified. “I’ve been trying to convince him to live his own life for years, and perhaps a br
ush with death would be the winning argument.”

  “Perhaps,” I agreed. “Or perhaps he would jump, and your mother would have only you to burden with all of her love and attention.”

  At that, Gordon threw back his head and laughed. I walked past him to hide my own smile, pleased with myself for making him laugh, despite my vow to pay no attention to men throughout the entire week.

  The white mare was now at the front of the stall, her head hanging over the gate, and I reached out and brushed my hand down the length of her nose. Her eyes, wide and brown, were gentle. I decided then that I would spend more time with horses. Maybe next time Catherine came to visit we could go riding together.

  Gordon walked away, moving towards the large stable doors, but he stopped before walking out into the overcast day and turned. “Would you like to ride her?”

  I hesitated. It was a strange offer, considering the obvious fact that I was not dressed for riding. Moreover, I had only just arrived after a long journey by train. Did he really think I had the energy or inclination to go out riding across unfamiliar terrain on a strange horse?

  And yet, there was something calculating in Gordon’s eyes that kept me from refusing. A challenge, of sorts. Was he testing me, finding out my limits and weaknesses? What would it mean if I refused on the very natural grounds that I was weary and inappropriately dressed? I sensed that I would lose something in his estimation, though I wasn’t quite sure what.

  I found myself nodding, my agreement having more than a hint of defiance attached to it.

  As Gordon led the mare out of her stall, a groom appeared out of nowhere, running up to assist. Gordon waved the young man away impatiently and proceeded to saddle up the horse himself, saying nothing as he worked expertly. I watched him and decided he was a man more comfortable in the company of animals. Probably because they did not talk back. When he was ready for me, he extended his hand, and I took it.

  There was no stool to help me get onto the animal, so there was no choice but to hook my foot in the stirrup and lift myself into the saddle, an awkward exercise in a dress not designed for the purpose. I pressed the crepe silk material down to cover my legs and then grabbed the reins. The horse started moving at once, eager to get out into the fresh air.

  Gordon gripped the horse’s halter, leading me out into the stable yard and turning the animal toward the open gate.

  He said, “You’ll find a good trail outside the gate. The horse knows the way home whenever you’re ready to head back.”

  As he released the halter and stepped back, he added as if it were an afterthought, “Would you like me to wait here and help you dismount?”

  I gaped at him, having assumed until now that he meant to accompany me. Surely he did not mean to send me out into the fields alone, without offering himself as guide and companion? I was an experienced enough rider that I was perfectly capable of proceeding on my own, of course, but to assume so was extraordinarily rude behavior in a host, especially a gentleman. Hadn’t this whole excursion been at his suggestion?

  Still, it was obvious he was eager to leave. Anyway, the same stubbornness that had prevented me from backing down from his first challenge prevented me yet again from protesting against this one.

  “I will be perfectly all right on my own,” I said with forced casualness. “Besides, if I am to refuse your brother, I ought to grow accustomed to taking care of myself.”

  Gordon laughed, and as the horse cantered away, picking up speed with every second, I heard him call after me. “My brother does not deserve such an interesting bride, anyway.”

  When I looked back, he was already walking away.

  5

  After a brief but refreshing ride across the open fields and rolling hills of the eastern part of the estate, I headed home just as the sky was turning red. Despite my inadequate dress for the outing, I had enjoyed the exercise, the rugged scenery, and the feel of the brisk wind against my face.

  On my return to the stable yard, I found a groom awaiting my arrival. I wondered if Gordon had told him to keep an eye out for me. Maybe the young master of the house was not quite as thoughtless as I had assumed after all.

  Dismounting and leaving my horse in the care of the groom, I made my way out of the stable yard and back toward the house. Although there was no electricity within the castle, the windows were illuminated by the glow of flickering lamps, as I approached.

  Slipping quietly inside, I found myself alone in the entrance hall. I hesitated beneath one of the pools of orange light cast by a wall lamp. I was about to go looking for a servant who might point me toward whatever upstairs bedroom had been assigned to me, when I heard something. A hollow echo rang throughout the open portion of the house, probably a gong calling the family and guests down to dinner. It seemed that I had been out longer than I thought and would now have to forgo the opportunity to tidy up after my ride and change into fresh clothing.

  Well, there was nothing for it but to go in to dinner as I was. It certainly would not do to be late to the Drummond’s table on my first night as a guest in their home. Mama would never let me forget it. I smoothed back a few strands of hair that the wind had whipped about my face and dusted away a stray piece of hay clinging to the hem of my dress.

  Heading toward what I thought was the dining room, I became confused and found myself instead in a long gallery, where the walls were broken only by shadowed doorways leading into empty rooms. Portraits of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen, probably ancestors of my hosts, frowned down on me from high up on the walls. A chilly draft crept along the floor, making the flames flicker in the wall lamps to either side of me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as a sense of isolation crept in on me.

  It was ridiculous. There was nothing eerie about this place and I was certainly far from alone. I just had to find my way back into a more inhabited part of the house. That was all.

  Hearing a sudden whisper of movement behind me, I turned and nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of a pale apparition only an arm’s length away.

  “Are you all right, Miss?”

  I exhaled, embarrassed to realize that my “pale apparition” was nothing more than a housemaid wearing a white apron.

  “I seem to have become lost,” I explained sheepishly. “Could you show me the way to the dining room? I imagine I am quite late by now and the others have probably already gathered there.”

  Whatever the young woman thought of my silliness she kept to herself, as I soon found myself following her retreating back down the lonely corridor and back into the heart of the house.

  I must have looked a worse sight than I thought, for a glance at Mama’s face as I entered the grand dining room revealed that her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

  “There’s Alice,” Lady Drummond said at my arrival. “We were beginning to worry about you, dear. I’m afraid we were forced to begin without you.”

  There came the noise of many chairs scraping across the floor as all of the gentlemen at the table set aside their napkins and rose to their feet. I hurried to the empty chair Alastair pulled out next to his own and settled into it, before everyone resumed their seats.

  “I apologize for my tardiness,” I told everyone. “I had a little difficulty finding the dining room and had to be rescued by a maid.”

  “That is not uncommon among first time guests,” Lord Drummond said sympathetically.

  There was a brief pause in conversation, while a footman stepped forward, allowing me to fill my plate from the silver serving tray in his gloved hands.

  When I was finally free to glance up from my plate, I found Sherborne Sharp looking directly at me from across the table. “I trust you enjoyed your visit to the stables, Miss Alice,” he said, a mischievous smirk hovering around the corner of his mouth. “Gordon told us he saw you out there.”

  I flushed, wondering why the man found it necessary to bring up the awkward subject. Clearly, he could see how everyone was maneuvering me and Ala
stair toward one another and, just as clearly, he found my reluctance regarding his friend amusing.

  “Yes, Gordon told the truth,” I said, turning toward the eldest Drummond son, who was sitting at the far end of the table away from his family, his mouth full with a bite of chicken. “He was very friendly and helped me select a horse to ride.”

  “You went riding?” my mother asked, surveying my outfit, her cheeks reddening further. She hid her embarrassment with a laugh. “I’m surprised only because Alice has always preferred city life. Though, it appears, one day in the Scottish countryside has changed that.”

  “And I’m surprised that Gordon was friendly,” Alastair said beside me, looking down the table at his brother from the corner of his eye.

  It was obvious he meant it as an insult, but when his mother cleared her throat, Alastair sat up straight and laughed good naturedly. “I’m only teasing my brother. I’m glad he made you feel welcome, Alice. I would be happy to help you select a horse next time.”

  “Thank you, but I am used to horses and am sure I will have no trouble selecting my own.” His smile faltered, and I fought to keep mine from widening.

  The table’s attentions moved on fairly quickly to a new arrival, who I had only just noticed sitting on the opposite side of my mother.

  “While you were gone, we received another guest,” Lady Drummond said, seeing my attention on the man. “Alice, this is Samuel Rigby.”

  I recognized the name at once, though it took me a moment to place it. “The author?”

  The man, blond-haired with a thick mustache, smiled and nodded. “Guilty as charged. I am a longtime acquaintance of Lord and Lady Drummond, and I could not refuse their offer of hospitality when I found myself travelling through Scotland again.”

  “And we are glad you couldn’t,” Lord Drummond said, smiling around a mouthful of food. “He is going to regale us with stories after dinner. Won’t that be enjoyable?”

  Everyone nodded excitedly, and I noticed Vivian Barry lean across the table to catch the author’s attention. He was her senior by at least ten years, but that didn’t seem to dissuade her. She kept his attention throughout the remainder of the dinner, and true to his word, Gordon Drummond didn’t show even the slightest hint of jealousy at her clear infatuation. In fact, he hardly looked up from his dinner at all.