Murder at Locke Abbey

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Murder at Locke Abbey Page 12

by Winchester, Catherine


  A slow smile spread across her lips as he spoke and she realised that he had been jesting.

  “I might know a teacher who would be willing. She is inexperienced but enthusiastic.”

  “Then please pass on my intent to become the best kisser in England, and my eagerness to learn.”

  They had reached the landing that separated their rooms. The door to the Copley’s suite was slightly ajar but they had privacy.

  “Is now too soon?” Thea asked as she turned to face him.

  “I believe I have a few minutes to spare.”

  Thea wasted no time in claiming a kiss and Cole realised that he would now have a very restless night ahead of him.

  ***

  Thea couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was because Madam Davina was such a skilled actress, or possibly Thea’s inability to explain the evening’s events but either way, her mind was turning every creak and groan in the Abbey into something ominous. Some sounds she was unable to recognise and as such, her mind filled in the blanks with images from ghost stories and fairy tales. She pictured chains being dragged by ghosts, witches cackling and The Mummy or Frankenstein’s Monster shambling around.

  She became angry with her inability to reason herself out of these nightmare images and as her annoyance grew, she recalled her earlier grievance, the insensitivity of the medium in using Cole’s grief at the loss of his mother to bolster her lies.

  It was difficult for Thea to shut her brain off and sleep at the best of times and she had sleeping draughts for such occasions, but they always left her feeling sluggish the following morning, so she very rarely used them.

  After an hour of lying awake, she got out of bed, deciding that she may as well be productive with this time.

  Since the fires were burning low, she pulled a dressing gown on over her nightgown to ward off a chill, then made her way into the sitting room. She sat on the floor by the low centre table and tried to imagine she had people sitting either side of her. It was hard to picture without people to help her, so she fetched two of her morning dresses and laid them out so their arms were on the coffee table. She arranged them so they appeared to be holding hands, then placed the right hand sleeve on her right wrist, and then took a hold of the forearm of the sleeve to her left.

  She removed her hands from the circle, then re-joined it, repeating the exercise a few times. The fifth time, as she used her left hand to place the sleeve on the right side over her wrist. She paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her.

  “Of course!”

  Well, that was one mystery solved.

  She laid the dresses over a chair so they wouldn’t crease too badly, then fetched her purse of coins.

  Thea knew a few sleight of hand tricks, mostly involving coins and cards, since they were small and easily concealed. None of those tricks worked exactly the same way as the medium’s had, but she tried applying the same principles.

  One principle was distraction. While making a show of placing a coin in a fist, it had actually been palmed in the other hand, or stuck to some petroleum jelly that had been placed on an unseen area of the hand.

  Another easy method for making something disappear, was to have a thread or string sewn into a garment, going up one arm and across the shoulders. A hook or similar was placed on the end of the thread that could be attached to an object. A shrug, a stretch or a theatrical gesture, caused the object to be pulled into a sleeve, out of sight (the theatrical gesture often serving not only to elongate the arms, but also distract the audience from noticing that something had been pulled into the sleeve).

  That wouldn’t work with coins however, as there was nothing to pass a hook through, nor was it easy to make something stick to a coin. If the coins had belonged to the magician, they would sometimes coat iron coins in silver, then use a magnet to manoeuvre the object (often levitate or otherwise ‘move with the mind’).

  She was certain that Cole’s coins had been genuine however.

  She recreated the trick, balancing a shilling on two fingers and a thumb, then asked herself, where could that coin go?

  The only viable option was a sleeve. She tried tipping her hand slightly as she clicked the fingers of her free hand, trying to drop the coin into the sleeve of her night gown. The sleeves of her dressing gown were larger than a normal dress, which should have made it easier to drop a coin in to a sleeve, but the coin often missed, or slid from the fingers too slowly to be unnoticed by others.

  She recreated the trick again and studied the position of everything once more.

  Why the click of the fingers, she wondered? Especially, why so close to the coin? If distraction was the objective of the gesture, it made more sense to raise the other hand up high, drawing gazes away from the coin.

  So the click must a part of the trick. Then she saw it; the finger of her left hand, the one that would spring back in the clicking action, was in line with her other sleeve, the coin neatly positioned in the middle of the straight line.

  It took a few attempts before she hit the shilling with the right force and aim to propel the coin sideways, into her other sleeve.

  She continued practicing, intending to become as good at it as the psychic was.

  ***

  Cole couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Thea, felt her lips on his again and felt her body pressed into his. He imagined her scent filled his nose again and his body reacted accordingly. He tried to relieve himself but it didn’t seem to help so at a little after three o’clock, he decided to take a walk and get rid of some nervous energy.

  He didn’t bother dressing as he only intended to walk around the house, which was sleeping.

  The moment he entered the hallway though, he saw faint light coming from under the door to the Copley’s sitting room.

  He approached with trepidation and pressed an ear to the door. He could hear the soft noise of fingers clicking occasionally, but that was all. He gently tapped on the door and a few moments later, Thea opened it, her robe clutched around her.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, worried.

  “No, no, everything is fine. I was unable to sleep and thought I would take a walk around the Abbey. When I saw you still had a lamp burning, I wondered if you were all right.”

  “That’s my excuse also, except for the walk.”

  “I’ll leave you be then.” He made to turn away but Thea stopped him.

  “Actually, there was something that I wanted to ask you.”

  “Yes?” he hoped he didn’t sound as eager as he felt. He didn’t expect her to invite him into her bed and even if she had, he would have refused her (or he liked to think he would) but he would take any excuse to remain in her presence.

  “Do you have any slates such as the ones Madam Davina used? Perhaps in a school room?”

  “I believe we do. I’ll fetch one for you now.”

  “I’ll come with you, if I may.”

  He gestured for her to step into the hallway, then they walked along the hall together. He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t because he didn’t trust himself to know when to stop.

  She kept giving him sidelong glances and each time he caught her eye, she blushed. He took that as a sign that she felt the same way.

  The school rooms were in the north wing of the house and there was a pile of slates stacked on a shelf.

  “Did you teach the village in here?” she teased.

  “No but I have so many sisters, that sometimes it felt as if we were educating a village.”

  Thea picked a board up and examined it. It was very similar to the ones the psychic used; a piece of slate, perhaps nine inches by six and framed in wood, because of the rough edges and the risk of the slate splitting. No ideas occurred to her but she hadn’t expected to find a resolution in one glance.

  “Can I take a few with me?” she asked.

  “Take as many as you need, I shan’t have any children in need of a slate for a few years, at least, and I highly doubt my father will be h
aving any more.”

  Thea took half of the stack, five in all, and a piece of white chalk.

  “Let me carry those,” he offered. “The stairs are narrow and dark, so I would rather you carried the oil lamp since I know this place like the back of my hand.”

  “Thank you.” She handed them to him and her fingers brushed his. That same tension formed immediately between them and their gazes sought each other and remained locked.

  Suddenly, Thea stretched up and kissed him, a quick peck but a playful one. If he wasn’t holding a stack of heavy slates, he would surely have pulled her into his arms and demanded more.

  “What was that for?”

  “Your fee, for carrying my belongings for me. I believe a small tip is customary.”

  “I do hope that you don’t tip everyone in such a fashion.”

  “Oh no, only the devilishly handsome ones.”

  “A compliment? I’m honoured.”

  “Keep your hat on, Mr Cole,” she said with a smile. “I complemented your looks, I did not accept your hand in marriage.”

  “Yes, but I’m a hopeless optimist.”

  She laughed quietly and they began the walk back to their rooms.

  ***

  Cole piled the slates onto the coffee table and Thea suggested a night cap before they attempted sleep once more. Cole poured two healthy measures from the brandy decanter in the corner, then sat beside her on the sofa, holding her hand as they chatted.

  “So, tell me about some of the other cases you have solved?” Cole asked, eager to know more about her.

  “I haven’t solved any alone. Usually my parents work as a team and I accompany them, so I cannot claim credit for any of our successes.”

  “Perhaps not all of the credit, but I’m sure some of it is owed to you. I merely wish to know more about you and thought this was something you might enjoy discussing.”

  “I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

  “I’m sure, but I wouldn’t have asked if I felt it would be tedious.”

  “Well, we did help find a murderer once. He had poisoned his wife with arsenic but tests for the poison at that time were inefficient, and a false positive reading for the presence of the chemical was sometimes recorded. After a court case where the murderer was declared not guilty, Mr Marsh decided a better test was needed and worked for many years to invent one. We were brought in to proceedings by a deceased’s children, to prove that their father killed their mother. We established that he had purchased arsenic for a rat problem at his foundry, but the rats did not diminish in significant numbers, therefore it was likely that he didn’t give them arsenic but a placebo, while he gave his wife the arsenic. That was all circumstantial however, and we had no proof.

  “So you used this Marsh’s test?”

  “We did. Since it was Mother and I who did the testing, the authorities weren’t convinced by our findings and asked for their own expert to evaluate the evidence. They did not perform the Marsh test or at least, hadn’t gotten around to having the remains tested for the presence of arsenic.”

  Thea shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Cole asked.

  “Only a little,” she assured him.

  Cole angled himself towards her on the sofa and opened his arms. “Let me warm you while we talk.”

  She hesitated only briefly as she considered his offer, then she moved to lean against him, sliding an arm behind him and resting her head on his chest. In one hand he held his drink while the other arm held her against him and stroked her back.

  “Where was I?”

  “The second investigation not looking for poison.”

  “Are you sure you would like to hear more? It must be quite dull.”

  “Murder can and should never be dull.”

  “I suppose. Anyway, our results were obviously enough to frighten the gentleman involved, and he hanged himself before he could be charged with murder. We were vindicated in time, when James Marsh himself came and repeated our test but obviously, it was too late for justice to be served by then.”

  He asked a few questions and she answered, but her speech began to slow with lethargy.

  “Tell me about you,” she asked once her tale was finished.

  “I think perhaps we should retire to bed,” he suggested, even although he would have liked nothing more than to stay here with her.

  She shifted her position so that she was facing him, her back to the room, and looked up at him.

  “I don’t want to go back to bed yet.”

  Something in her expression suggested that this was more than just wanting to stay with him.

  “Why not?”

  She bowed her head, as if ashamed.

  “Thea?”

  “The house makes settling noises,” she admitted in a small voice. “Lying there alone, I… they frightened me. I will go back to bed but not yet, I want to wait until I’m certain I will sleep.”

  When she was allowing him to see her vulnerability, how could he deny her?

  “Very well,” he smiled and kissed her forehead softly. “How should we pass the time then?”

  “Tell me one of your stories.”

  “I don’t have any, certainly none as interesting as yours.”

  “You’re interesting to me,” she argued. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”

  “Well… When I was six, I nearly drowned. My sisters and I had slipped away from the nanny and governesses, and we attempted to use a small fallen tree to build a bridge over a stream that runs through the property. We stripped the branches and I was volunteered to walk through the stream with one end, to place it on the opposite bank. I was only six though, the trunk was heavy and the stream full, and I lost my footing.”

  Thea tried to settle against him but couldn’t get comfortable so as he spoke, Cole lifted her onto his lap, then she could rest her torso against him and her head on his shoulder.

  “The water carried me for the best part of a mile,” he continued. “My sisters ran along the bank, trying to reach me, holding sticks and branches out for me to grab onto. I did eventually grab hold of one but with the power of the water, only succeeded in pulling Kaitlin in as well. Her skirt got snagged on bushes beside the stream, which saved her from being pulled along with me. As I was nearing the larger tributary, my oldest sister, Eloise, jumped in and grabbed me. She managed to direct us to the side of the stream, and we were snagged on another small tree. We almost uprooted it but our sisters managed to grab a hold of our arms and pulled us to safety. It wasn’t funny but the relief made me laugh so hard, my sides began to ache.

  “Once home, we were obviously in a lot of trouble, father threatened to have us all whipped until we told who had been behind this prank. I knew no one would talk, my sisters were a tight knit team, and I saw no reason for everyone to be punished and since, although it was Eloise’s idea, she had rescued me. I told him that I had run away and the girls had gone after me, then saved me when I fell into the stream. That was the day that I went from the annoying younger brother, to a confidant and friend. ”

  “That’s sweet,” she said, her voice swollen with sleep. “But I’m sorry you were hurt.”

  “Mother saved me from punishment. She argued that I was just a child and had been punished enough with my near drowning.” He smiled at the memory. “There was no stopping us after that, midnight kitchen raids, target practice with Father’s duelling pistols, we were quite an incontrollable rabble.”

  A few minutes more and her even breathing said that she was sound asleep. He kissed her forehead again and closed his own eyes.

  He knew that he should be worried about them being discovered, about her reputation being harmed, her father’s anger, his father’s anger and probably many things he hadn’t considered.

  It was late however, and he felt as content as he could ever remember.

  Chapter Nine

  For many years now, Nathaniel Copley had worried about his oldest daughter finding love
and happiness. He had watched as suitors lined up, thanks to her family name and wealth. Most were soon seen off, frightened off by her intelligence, and unwillingness to flatter an ego where it was not deserved.

  Two had a little more about them and sought his permission to begin courting her. He felt that neither boy was man enough for his daughter but he sought Thea’s opinion, and she had been smitten with each. He took no pleasure in being proved right. In fact, Thea’s resignation to spinsterhood broke his heart, and he was unusually tempted to commit acts of violence against the gentlemen. He didn’t, of course, but the temptation had never been so great.

  William Cole had been the first man to show any interest in Thea that Nathaniel thought might be worthy of her. For a start, he was a man in both age and temperament, while the others lacked some maturity.

  It also soon became clear that he respected Thea, not in the way most men were taught to, as if women were delicate flowers in need of coddling and protection, no, he respected her as a person, an equal, and he did not resent it when she shined.

  Cole’s confidence was based on his own skills and abilities. He did not need to raise himself above others to feel good about himself or worse still, to belittle others in order to feel superior.

  Thea’s abilities astounded him, they would be astounding in anyone, man or woman, but Cole did not resent them and much like Nathaniel and his own wife, he revelled in them, eager to see more. He would encourage Thea to develop her talents and improve them, not require her to hide them away in order to fit some imagined societal norm.

  There were some occasions when Nathaniel had doubted his choice in Damaris, for she was every bit as exceptional as their daughter and at times, that led to conflict, between themselves and with others. Those times were few and far between however, and she had brought him far more happiness than heartache.

  As he looked at his friends and acquaintances, Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice that the happiest gentlemen were those who viewed their wives as partners, rather than possessions.

 

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