by Beth Byers
“Of course, Mr. Victor,” Beatrice said. “Of course.”
“Take care of my sister, Beatrice,” Victor said. “Just take care.”
Violet dressed into pajamas and her kimono as soon as Victor was gone. She hadn’t noticed it at the time, but she saw that Beatrice had cleaned Violet’s jewelry and removed the gown.
“It’s happened again, I think,” Violet told Beatrice. “I’ll have to give you a raise, my dear. Taking care of me when our lives keep running into bodies and crimes.”
“You already pay me better than most maids, my lady,” Beatrice said. “Working for you is the best thing that happened to me. I love it. You travel, you have beautiful clothes to take care of, you are kind and generous.”
A tear slipped down her face and Beatrice begged, “Please don’t cry, my lady.”
There was a knock at the door, and Violet and Beatrice turned to it. Both of them calculated who was on the other side. What danger they faced. Bettina had been hurt. If it was a malicious attack, were they in danger as well?
“It’s me, Vi,” Lila called. “Gwennie and I and a tea tray. We’ve been instructed by the boys to bolt ourselves in.”
Violet nodded and Beatrice slowly opened the door. Her friends were on the other side with Mrs. Newstone. Beatrice let them in and then locked the bedroom door again.
Violet took the seat at her desk as the others found places around the room. “Come in and join us, Mrs. Newstone, Beatrice. This isn’t a time to stand on whatever nonsense keeps us from sitting down together with a good cup of tea and better gossip.”
“Mr. Hull asked me to check on you when I went to see how Mr. Tomas was doing.”
“Is Tomas all right?” Violet asked.
Mrs. Newstone considered and then shook her head. “No, my dear. I’m afraid he is very much not all right.”
“Bloody hell,” Lila muttered, “why couldn’t we just have a party? What happened? Who is this person who has been injured?”
“Do we know what happened to her?” Violet had washed rather a disturbing amount of blood from her body. Just how much could Bettina lose and still be alive? By Jove, she must be dead. She must be. Vi couldn’t imagine otherwise, but what did she know of what humans could survive? Very little, as spoiled as she’d been since the day of her birth.
Mrs. Newstone shook her head. “Some of the staff might have heard. I’ll find out.”
Beatrice opened the bedroom door for Mrs. Newstone, let her out, and locked it again.
“She must be dead,” Violet said.
“Who is this woman? Bettina? Is that right?” Lila glanced at Gwennie, who was pale. “Darling, you’ll be fine,” Lila reassured her. “You were with John. We’ll have him take you home as soon as can be.”
“Bettina Marino,” Violet said, answering Lila’s question.
“Why would anyone want to hurt her?”
Beatrice choked and Violet glanced her way. The two of them who had met and dealt with Bettina considered each other.
“It really is a matter of who wouldn’t want to hurt her,” Violet said. “She is an awful woman.”
Lila gasped and Vi explained what she’d witnessed of Bettina, finishing with, “To be honest, I think that she was playing the men against each other. Making them vie for her as though she were some prize instead of a fortune hunter. She was furious when she thought I had stolen Tomas from her and when Victor was uninterested.”
“She sounds awful,” Lila said. “You always do find the most interesting people.”
“Like you, for instance?” Violet asked.
“I would say so, though to be fair, Gwennie is utterly normal. She even wants babies as soon as she can persuade John to put a ring on her finger.”
Violet shot Gwennie a look and shook her head. “Foolish girl,” Violet murmured. “He should be persuading you to allow him to put a ring on your finger.”
Lila laughed with delight and crowed, “Hear, hear!”
Gwennie shook her head. “I’m not anything special. The fact that John—”
Lila and Violet groaned while Gwennie glanced between them.
“What?” Gwennie understood nothing.
There was another knock on the door and Mrs. Newstone called into the room. Her tone was answer enough, but they opened the door. A sensible grey dress, comfortable shoes, hair pulled back into a knot at the base of her neck, white face with brilliant red circles on her cheekbones.
“She’s…she’s…Miss Marino is…”
“She’s dead,” Violet said for the housekeeper.
Mrs. Newstone helplessly shook her head. “Murdered.” She choked a little as though the word were a knot in her throat, but she wasn’t finished. “Murdered at the folly and my master is the suspect.”
Chapter 11
There were times when one had to disregard promises. Violet slowly stood. She had dressed in pajamas after her bath, so she flung open her armoire doors, found the first dress, and put it on while Lila and Gwennie demanded what she was up to.
Violet didn’t reply, she just dressed and left her room. Tomas’s bedroom was in the other wing, but Violet knew the house well enough to make her way there without anyone but servants seeing her. When she reached the door, she heard Jack and Victor shouting at each other. Violet pushed the door open and both of them turned to her.
“Get out,” Violet said. “Get out right now.”
“He needs to be questioned,” Jack argued.
“Violet,” Victor said, but she shot him a look that said he was as much a part of the problem. Victor’s gaze narrowed on Violet, but she ignored him and faced Jack.
“Yes,” Violet agreed, “he needs to be questioned. But you fought in the war, Jack. I’m sure you’ve seen this before. Tomas isn’t going to be able to answer questions if you don’t let me calm him down. Once he does calm down, he’ll respond to my questions.”
“Violet, if you think I’m going to leave you here with this man who probably killed that poor woman, you are mad.” Jack’s shout startled her, as did the way he grabbed her arm.
She screamed a little and then reminded herself that it was Jack who would never hurt her.
“Let go of my sister,” Victor warned.
“Vic! Stop it! You need to leave,” she said precisely. “You both need to leave right now.”
“There is no part of me that is playing games with your safety, Violet,” Jack told her.
She searched his face and knew that he would not negotiate with her on this. Slowly, Violet cleared her throat. She glanced at Victor, who shook his head at her. He wasn’t leaving either.
With a sigh, Violet said, “Stand back and be quiet.”
“Tomas wouldn’t hurt Bettina, Vi,” her twin said. He didn’t sound convinced and Violet’s furious glare had her brother crossing his arms over his chest.
“You know better than to be shouting like this, Victor.”
“We’ll both quiet down,” Jack said, taking Victor’s arm and pulling him to stand next to the wall. Violet searched both of their faces. They were both angry, and that anger extended to Violet, which infuriated her as well.
She turned on her heel before she started shouting, too, and crossed to where Mr. Hull was physically keeping Tomas in the armchair near the fire. Tomas’s hands were over his ears, and his panic made her even angrier.
“Thank you, my lady,” Mr. Hull whispered. “I wish you would be our mistress. Mr. Tomas needs you, ma’am.”
Violet ignored the butler and pulled the second chair closer so she could take Tomas’s hand.
“Tomas,” Violet said gently. “Tomas.” Violet waited, saying his name again and again until he looked her way. She sighed as his lost eyes met hers. “When Aunt Agatha met you for the first time, she said you were a grubby little boy who was clearly going to spend his days ensconced in mischief and hijinks.”
Tomas looked dully up at Violet, not really seeing her.
“I’m going to tell you a secret,” Violet told him cheerily,
as though she weren’t dying inside. As though Jack and Victor’s anger weren’t making her want to flee them all. “Aunt Agatha told me later, after you left, to make sure I got into as much mischief with you as I could. She said you had a good heart. She said that mischief with someone who had a good heart was the way to live your life.”
Tomas seemed to latch onto that. “You don’t want me.”
Violet smiled and kissed his forehead. “For mischief? Always.”
There was a shuffling from near the wall, but Violet didn’t turn that way. She kept her gaze and her hand on Tomas, keeping him anchored to her.
“You told me you were going to make Bettina miserable,” Tomas said. “Our last mischief was to make her miserable. Vi…she died in my arms. She…she was so scared. She begged me to help her.”
Violet bit her lip. By Jove, she thought, they had. “We weren’t going to hurt her. Just make her want to move on to another rich fellow. It wasn’t our fault she died, it was our fault she got cold tea and stale bread with her tea. Mischief, my friend, not murder.”
“Vi, I…”
Violet glanced at Jack, who had his hands on his hips, staring at them. He was furious. So angry, she could feel it crackling. She swallowed on a dry throat. She had no idea those penetrating eyes could be so very harsh.
“Tell me what happened,” she urged Tomas, giving him her full attention once more.
Tomas stared into the fire. “The ghosts have been haunting me for weeks, Vi. For weeks and weeks. I don’t know what made it start, but I thought…”
“It’s why you came to Bruges?”
“I thought you and Victor could help me. The last time it was so bad.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “I know why you came to Bruges. Tell me about tonight. What about when the trumpet player tripped? You left because of the noise. You went to walk it off.”
Tomas was shaking as Violet squeezed his hand, and he grasped hers, his fingers digging in too hard, but she hid the pain to keep him talking.
“They were already there in the shadows,” he whispered. “The ghosts. I keep seeing Ben. It’s always Ben. Everyone else changes, but Ben…God, Vi, he was so young. He was so earnest. Such a good kid. He was the type who would do whatever it took to make things better. He used to tell jokes. Who tells jokes in the trenches, Vi?”
Violet shook her head. It was a question no one would answer, could answer. “Then what happened? Tonight?”
“The band…it was so loud. It was like they were shooting again. Like in the trenches. It all came back, so I did what we talked about. I went for a walk, I focused on the swimming holes, and on the tarts. That day at the fair.”
“You did just right,” Violet said, gently. She had to whisper because Tomas was squeezing far too hard, and it was difficult to hide the pain of it. “You did just right. What happened next?”
She glanced over to Jack and Victor, who were staring furiously at each other. Jack waved his hand, and she scowled at both of them.
“Tomas,” Violet said gently, “what happened next?”
“I…I…don’t know. I…walked for so long. I walked until I was freezing. I was so cold. I’m always cold, Vi. Always.”
“I know, Tomas,” Violet said. “I know. When did you get to the folly?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Tomas!”
He slowly turned up to her face and blinked at her.
“Was she there when you arrived? How did you find her?”
“I…” His head tilted as he considered. “She must have been there already. There wasn’t anyone. I paced it. Like I used to. I paced it, and I went past the tower. I was by that pile of rocks. The one you said was so dumb when we were little.”
Violet nodded.
“That’s when I saw her. She was lying there in the blood. She was whimpering with it. She gasped. That rattling gasp, I’ve heard it so many times. I knew she was going to die, but I tried. I pulled out the knife, I used my coat to put pressure on the wound, I held her. It’s so hard to die alone. I held her tightly and I lied. I told her it would be okay.”
He was crying, and Violet cried with him. Her voice was shaking and the gasps of pain from his grip were disguised by the tears she shed with Tomas. “Was anyone else there?”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t seeing right, Vi. I was seeing Ben. Always Ben. I didn’t see her, not really. I was talking to him, not to her.”
“I know, my friend. I know. Tell us the rest.”
“She was still alive. She was crying. She was cold too. She always seemed so fiery. She shouldn’t have been cold. Hell isn’t hot, Vi. It’s cold. It’s cold and wet and when she died, I should have been talking to her, not to him.”
Violet nodded. Tomas turned to the fire and she could see the ghosts were reaching for him.
“Mr. Hull,” she said quietly, “don’t let him drink. Have his man stay with him. Don’t leave him alone. Someone read to him.”
Mr. Hull nodded, and Vi added, “He always liked Alice in Wonderland when we were little. Nothing suspenseful.”
Mr. Hull nodded and Violet twisted her wrist away from Tomas, biting back a gasp. He didn’t seem to notice, his hands moving to grip the arms of his chair instead.
Violet put her hand behind her back so Jack and Victor wouldn’t see the forming bruises. She pointed at the door with her uninjured hand and waited until Jack and Victor stepped out of the room first.
“Let’s argue in the library,” she said, “before we push Tomas further into his memories.”
Victor swept his hand in front of him, and Violet led the way. When they reached the library, they all turned on each other.
“He thinks Tomas killed that woman,” Victor said, furious. “He won’t listen to me.”
“Of course he does,” Violet said, putting one hand against her forehead. It was pounding and her wrist ached.
“So you’re on his side? Because you’re infatuated?” Victor demanded. “You’re going to throw over Tomas for him?”
“I’m on his side because I can use my brain,” Violet shot back. “You should try it. Jack doesn’t know Tomas. Tomas is a dangerous man—”
“Dangerous?” Victor shouted. “What is wrong with you? He’s our friend.”
“He was a soldier,” Jack answered for Violet. “It comes with the territory.”
Violet took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Stop yelling, Victor, or my inner shrew will torture you for ages.”
Victor shot her a nasty look. “What is wrong with you, Violet? Why are you being like this?”
“I was covered in Bettina’s blood,” Violet told him softly. “I would be curled up in my bed, crying about it, but Tomas needs us.”
“And yet you’re defending Jack, who has already decided that Tomas did it!”
“Tomas was in the army for a couple of years,” Violet told Victor. “He’s not the same as he was before the war. I know you feel guilty. I know your arm was broken and you didn’t end up in the trenches, and then the war was over. I know that makes you feel guilty. You feel like you should have at least suffered alongside and lived or died with them.”
“Vi, why are you saying these things?” Victor demanded.
“Because you feel guilty that you aren’t haunted like Tomas is. It’s not your fault that your friends died or are damaged and you aren’t.”
Victor punched the wall.
Violet turned to Jack, undeterred. “They are closer than brothers, Jack. And Victor feels responsible for Tomas.”
“So he’s giving you to Tomas?”
“I am not chattel,” Violet snapped, “or something to be given.”
“Vi!” Victor said. “Tomas needs us…”
“Listen,” Violet told Jack softly, “you’re right. Tomas is dangerous, but his inherent nature is gentle and kind. I understand why you suspect Tomas. It seems logical, but you’re wrong.”
Jack growled a little as
he said, “Violet, he was covered in her blood.”
“Yes, I know.”
“He was lost in his memories. He said that himself. It’s possible he didn’t know what he was doing, but that doesn’t mean he is innocent.”
“You don’t know him like Victor and I do,” Violet snapped. Her head hurt, her wrist hurt, her heart hurt.
“There have been soldiers who have killed their wives while stuck in memories of the past. The people they love the most, Violet. Your Tomas isn’t infallible. You don’t know what he did. You were with me. You’re the only one who I am certain didn’t hurt Bettina.”
Violet took in a slow breath and let it out before she spoke. “Bettina was a fortune hunter who wound up the men around her and played them off of each other. She targeted every man in the house, some who were actually bothered by her antics because she insulted their pride and their manhood. Tomas was not one of them. There are other people who had motives to kill her, Jack. You can’t just disregard that.”
Jack looked up at the ceiling. “Throwing other people out as suspects doesn’t change the fact that we found him covered in her blood. There are policemen out there fingerprinting the knife that killed her, and it will have his prints on it, Violet. There’s nothing I can do.”
“You could trust us,” Violet suggested. “You could trust that Victor and I have been witnesses of Tomas in all of his memories. Do you know what he does? He curls up into a ball and rocks back and forth with his hands over his ears. He cries and talks to dead men. You could recognize that we have reasons for why we’re so sure. Years of them.”
“You don’t need a motive if you’re shell-shocked, Vi,” Jack said gently.
“Is it so hard to accept that we might be right?”
“He’s jealous, Vi,” Victor said. “Denny told me about how Tomas clutched you like a life raft. Any man would be jealous after that.”
Violet’s gaze darted to Jack, whose face was expressionless. She pressed her uninjured hand over her mouth. “Bettina had relations with Mr. Stroud, Algie, possibly François Boutet, and she was overtly pursuing Tomas and Victor. What if you were a less principled man, Jack? What would you do? All we’re asking is that you trust us to know our childhood friend well. I swear to you, Tomas did not do this.”
