Love, Lies and Murder

by Catherine Winchester

  “I’m starting to wonder,” he admitted. “The problem is, he hasn’t stepped foot in this house for well over five years; since I first suspected him of stealing.”

  “So he couldn’t have killed her.”

  “No.”

  “But if he didn’t kill her, then who did?”

  “You once said that no matter how bright the sun, you felt as if this house permanently had a dark cloud hovering over it, and I cannot disagree with you.” He caught her gaze and held it and his voice was low as he made the following confession. “I have known every member of this household for years and as much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot draw any further conclusion. One of them is a murderer.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Helen drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins.

  “So you only married me in order to inherit, and knowing full well that someone might try to kill me?”

  “What?”

  “If your uncle wants to keep the Trust, he has to kill me.”

  “Helen, I won’t let that happen.”

  “How can you stop it?” she demanded. “You’ve been gone for the past week, anyone could have… And I didn’t even know I was in any danger!”

  “Helen-”

  “No wonder someone went through my things. They probably invited my family as well-”

  “Helen-“

  “-given the bad blood between us, they would be good suspects if someone thought that my death was also murder.” She knew that she was becoming hysterical but she couldn’t help it. So many things began to fall into place.

  “Helen, please-”

  “That buckle wasn’t broken; it was sabotaged, so I would fall-”

  “Helen!” he grabbed her shoulders so that she had to turn and look at him. “Please, just calm down. I swear to you that I didn’t know someone would try to hurt you. Yes, someone killed Emma but that was two years ago! I suspected that my uncle had forged another copy, or in some way altered the Will to take advantage of Emma’s death, but not that he had been the one to kill her! Everyone said it was Emma’s unknown lover and without any other explanation, I believed that too.

  “I only began to wonder if the events were related after I met with my uncle to show him our marriage certificate. He made some remark, about trying to determine if we were really married, and that made me even more sure that he had altered that clause, but I never seriously entertained the idea that he could be a murderer. He wasn’t even here at the time so I had never considered that he might be involved.” His eyes bored into hers. “Please, Helen, you have to believe me.”

  She looked into his eyes, trying to determine if he was being truthful.

  “If I had thought you were in any danger, I would not have asked you to marry me, nor would I have brought you here.”

  She could detect no deception in his eyes so she nodded. “I believe you.”

  He visibly relaxed. “Thank you.” He pulled her into an awkward embrace, gently stroking her back and kissing her hair, and slowly she began to relax. She unwound her arms from around her legs and put them around his waist, holding him tightly.

  “Now please,” he said, “tell me what’s been going on.”

  Helen pulled away and reached for her glass of wine, empting the rest of the glass. Alex topped it up for her and she took another long sip, then a deep breath before beginning.

  “It started with things in my room being out of place. I wondered if perhaps it was Bessie but I honestly don’t think it could have been.”

  “How many times has this happened?”

  “Once before you left and again this evening, when I got back from riding.”

  “But it didn’t happen while I was gone?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then perhaps someone wants you to be suspicious of me.”

  Helen didn’t know what to think; she had just wanted to put it from her mind and enjoy a nice evening with her husband.

  “And the buckle you spoke of?”

  “Jane and I took the boys riding while you were gone. I stayed with Jules, leading his pony but when we got back and dismounted, I noticed that one side of the reins were coming loose. The prong of the buckle was missing. I assumed it was corroded or defective, but now it seems more likely that someone removed it so that when I pulled hard, the reins would come loose.”

  Alex’s hands were fisted on the bedclothes and his features were hard and frightening. Her own hands were shaking with shock.

  “What did the groom say?”

  “He apologised profusely and promised to check every piece of tack that evening.”

  His knuckles got whiter until Helen began to worry. She reached out and put her hand on his forearm.

  “Alex?” She knew he was angry but she didn’t want righteous anger, she wanted comfort.

  She was eternally grateful when he took a deep breath and made an effort to relax.

  “I’m sorry, I just… I feel so impotent.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” she tried to reassure him.

  “But it’s my family at risk.”

  He opened his arms to her and she eagerly fell into his embrace and slowly, Alex relaxed even further and Helen’s tremors ceased.

  “I swear to you, Helen, I won’t let anyone harm you.”

  Helen sat up and touched his cheek with her hand. “Thank you, and I won’t let anyone hurt you either.”

  “Me?” he sounded surprised.

  Helen nodded sadly. “Surely the best way to keep your inheritance in trust is to… well, kill you.”

  Alex shook his head. “Should anything happen to me, my Will has long named Clarence and Jane as Trustees. My lawyer also has an office in Liverpool, so I amended the terms of my Will while I was there, and named you and Jane as the Trustees.”

  “Me and Jane?”

  He nodded. “Jane because she loved her sister and I'm sure she wouldn’t have harmed her in any way. You, because you couldn’t have killed my wife and you are legally the boys’ mother now. I also made provision for you, so you will be well cared for if anything does happen to me.”

  “Why not your mother?”

  “I don’t believe she harmed Emma but equally, she is from a different age, when children were little more than robots who were obedient to their parents. I don’t want that for my boys.”

  “Why did you remove Clarence? Surely you don’t suspect him?”

  Alex shrugged. “I don’t want to but Emma supposedly had a lover, and I’m sure it wasn’t her brother, which only leaves Clarence.”

  “Why do you say ‘supposedly’? Jane seems to believe it.”

  “Jane told you she was murdered?”

  Helen nodded. “Everyone else was so tight-lipped that I became curious. Jane was the only one who would answer my questions.”

  “So you know that we didn’t marry for love?”

  Helen nodded.

  “Well, she’s right, but we did have a great deal of respect for each other, and even affection. She gave me my beautiful boys and was an excellent mother to them; she was kind and graceful, always saw the best in people and never said a word against anyone. I don’t think she was the type to have an affair, not even if she had fallen deeply in love.”

  “What if that was the problem; what if he wanted more and she said no?”

  Alex frowned as he considered her point. “Do you really think that would make someone kill?”

  “I lived on my own in London, Alex, so I know that some men will kill just for a perceived slight to their pride. Besides, jealousy is an ugly but powerful emotion.”

  Finally Alex let out a long breath and nodded. “You’re right. So what do we do now? We don’t have proof of any wrongdoing.”

  “Not even the bridle buckle?”

  “The authorities would likely conclude, as you first did, that it had corroded with time or was perhaps defective when purchased.”

  “All right, then I think we need to go
through this methodically. First we compile a list of all possible suspects, then the reasons that they might or might not have harmed Emma.

  “We will still only have suspicions.”

  “True, but we can narrow our search down to the best suspects, then find ways to draw the truth from them.”

  “They aren’t going to confess, Helen, much as we might like it if they did.”

  “No,” she agreed. “However we can tell a lot from their reactions to certain things.”

  “What things,” he asked, wondering exactly what she had in mind. If it meant putting herself in harm’s way, he couldn’t allow it.

  “I could say that Emma kept journals which I found. Something like that would surely contain details of a lover, if she had one. Or perhaps a letter would be more believable? I could say I came across a letter she had left in a book. If we were to pretend to have stumbled upon something that could incriminate the guilty party, anyone with something to hide might give themselves away.”

  “That is actually a brilliant idea!” he grinned at her. “I’ll fetch a pencil and paper.”

  He made to get off the bed but Helen stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

  “Please, Alex, tomorrow is soon enough.”

  “What’s wrong?” he sounded concerned.

  “Nothing is wrong, aside from the obvious but… I had been so looking forward to a night alone with you, without our families and their machinations getting in the way. Instead I discover that I may be murdered soon and… I am having some time adjusting to everything you’ve told me.”

  She could feel the betraying sting of tears in her eyes and furiously blinked them back.

  Alex lay down on the bed and pulled Helen to him, tucking her head under his chin.

  “You’re right, I apologise.”

  “You shouldn’t have to apologise for wanting to find out who killed your wife,” she lamented.

  Alex pulled away and tilted her chin up until she was looking at him.

  “You are my wife now and besides, tomorrow is soon enough.” He favoured her with the sweetest smile that she had ever seen and it quite took her breath away. “So what do you want to do?”

  Helen shrugged since she hadn’t really given it much thought and the only activity that she had hoped that they might engage in, she no longer felt in the mood for.

  “Do you have any happy memories of this house?” she asked.

  “I do but… well, they mostly revolve around my sons, and so Emma.”

  “Of course,” she blushed and bowed her head. She wanted to get to know him better but she wondered if there were any topics she could choose that wouldn’t remind them of the one thing they were trying to ignore.

  “Although there was this one time, when I was a boy. Clarence was about seven so I must have been nine. Our parents were away for a few nights, so Clarence and I escaped from our nanny. We used to run that poor woman ragged.” His eyes had a faraway look and his lips were curled up in a slight smile at the memory. “Anyway, after our successful evasion of her, we raided the linen closet, then crept from the house and into the woods with our bounty. It took us most of the day but by the time they found us, we had used the sheets and tablecloths to construct, quite possibly, the largest fort a child ever constructed. We were in terrible trouble when we were discovered, of course, but somehow Clarence was able to talk us out of too harsh a punishment. My father used to say that he could charm the hind legs off a donkey.”

  As he told his story, they relaxed back against the headboard, with Helen curled into his chest. When he had finished, they began trading happy stories from their pasts. Most of Helen’s stories involved her father, while most of Alex’s didn’t involve either parent.

  They finally got around to eating the cake that had been sent up with their sandwiches and their happy tales had cheered their mood considerably. When they cake was gone, Helen left him for a while, refusing to tell him where she was going. She returned perhaps ten minutes later carrying two mugs and a silver cocoa caddy on a small tray.

  “What's this?” Alex asked.

  “Every night when he was home, Sir Geoffrey and I would share cocoa before I went to bed. After telling so many stories about him, I felt like enjoying a cup.”

  She set the tray down on the bed and poured them both a serving.

  “Did anyone see you?” He sounded amused, for she was still dressed in his oversized robe.

  “Only the servants; I took their stairs down to the kitchen. I’ve been busy exploring since you left, so I know my way around quite well now. I think I may have scandalised Mr Graves though.” She grinned at him as she handed him a mug.

  Alex had never had a particular fondness for cocoa, thinking it a bitter beverage. This however, was deliciousness itself.

  “I don’t remember cocoa being this nice; what's in it?” he asked.

  “Milk, cocoa powder, sugar, vanilla and just a touch of cinnamon. Mrs Watson said that she wants the recipe from me.”

  They shared a few more of their favourite memories but the long ride had tired Alex and less than an hour later, they were tucked up under the covers, sound asleep.

  ***

  Alex awoke to find something tickling his nose. Unwilling to awaken just yet, he wrinkled his nose, trying to get rid of the sensation and when that didn’t work, he brought his hand up to brush the irritant away. Then he felt a weight being lifted from his chest and the irritant was gone.

  Curiosity finally got the better of his desire to sleep and he opened his eyes, to see Helen beside him, leaning on one arm as she looked down at him, sweeping the hair which had tickled his nose, over her furthest shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she blushed.

  He realised that he must look grumpy and made an effort to smooth out his features. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone. Emma always preferred to sleep alone.”

  She appeared to relax and then hesitantly, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips but when she made to rise again, Alex slipped his arms around her waist, holding her against him.

  “I’m not letting you go for just one, rather chaste kiss,” he smiled.

  Helen smiled and pressed another, longer kiss on his lips but while she didn’t pull away, she left it to him to deepen the kiss, which he did. He was beginning to become aroused when there came a knock at the door.

  Helen pulled away, her eyes widening in shock.

  “Relax, we’re married,” he reminded her, then called for them to come in.

  It was Mr Graves, who nodded to Alex, wished them both a good morning and began opening the curtains. Helen kept the covers pulled up around her neck and watched him, much as a mouse might watch a cat, looking for signs of attack.

  “Would you like breakfast in bed this morning, Your Grace?”

  As nice as that idea was, Alex glanced at Helen, who looked as if it was the last thing she wanted. Besides, they should carry on as normally as possible, he reasoned.

  “Thank you, Graves but not this morning. Much as I might wish it, I cannot avoid my family forever.”

  Graves nodded and left. Helen tried to slip out of the bed but Alex caught her about the waist again, pulling her back against his chest.

  “We’ll pick this up tonight,” he said, his voice deep with desire.

  He felt Helen relax and she smiled as she turned to look at him. “Tonight,” she promised.

  “Come to my study after breakfast, and we’ll begin that list we spoke of last night.”

  She nodded once more, then scampered through to her room, leaving Alex alone to contemplate the events of last night.

  When he had first seen Helen he had thought that she was a woman he could respect, much like his first wife. They had been different as night and day in their temperaments, Emma having been rather demure and never raising her voice, not even when she was angry. Helen was more forceful than his first wife but in their principles, both
seemed unwavering.

  What he hadn’t expected when he asked Helen to marry him, was that he would begin to feel things other than affection for her. He had resigned himself to a life of companionship rather than love and romance, but Helen really was quite a passionate creature and when he was with her, he felt as if something within her, called out to something primal within him.

  When they finally managed it, he knew that she would not see sex as a duty; she would enjoy it.

  He dressed for the day and headed downstairs to find his mother and four strangers at the breakfast table and judging by the red hair of two of them, he guessed this to be Helen’s family. His mother introduced them to him and he nodded politely at each.

  “Thank you for allowing us to stay, Your Grace,” Paris said.

  “You should thank my wife, Lord Gardiner, for I had no part in it.”

  “Of course. You have our gratitude nonetheless.”

  Alex sat down and spoke mainly with his mother about his trip. She seemed to believe that business trips were social affairs, and constantly asked if he had seen this person or that person. Even if he had, their discussions were usually limited to business rather than gossip.

  Helen joined them after about ten minutes and he poured her a cup of tea, then went to help himself to the food in the warming plates on the sideboard, returning with two plates, one for him and one for Helen. She looked surprised but nodded her thanks to him. As she looked down at her plate, he saw her realise that there was no tomato on her plate but there was extra bacon; he had noticed that these were her least and most favourite things respectively.

  She didn’t look at him but he could tell by her expression that she was touched and below the tablecloth, her hand sought his, giving it a light squeeze before finally starting on her meal.

  Alex excused himself first and headed to his study, waiting just behind the door for Helen to join him and when the door opened, he swept her into his arms, claiming her lips before she could protest and kicking the door closed behind him.

  Helen responded, allowing him to pick her up and carry her over to the sofa. He gently set her down, kneeling on the floor beside her.