by Beth Byers
Murder at the Ladies Club
The Violet Carlyle Mysteries
Beth Byers
Contents
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Also By Beth Byers
Chapter One of Death by the Book
Summary
January 1925.
Violet Carlyle is in the midst of wedding preparations, somehow balancing her stepmother’s snobbery with her own wants. Since Lady Eleanor arrived in London, Vi’s beloved Jack has thrown himself into case after case.
Out of sheer boredom, Violet accepts an invitation to attend the Piccadilly Ladies Club. When she makes new friends at the club, Violet accepts an invitation for a party. She little expects to stumble upon a body over an evening of cocktails and conversation. Together, Jack and Violet step into the investigation, determined to discover why this woman was murdered and if anyone else is at risk.
Chapter 1
“Lady Eleanor,” Violet said carefully, trying to hide her growing fury. “No.”
Vi had been dressed and ready to leave when her stepmother arrived and pushed her way through the door, despite the butler trying to dissuade her. Lady Eleanor, of course, further ignored the fact that Violet had a car waiting and took a place on the Chesterfield in the parlor, leaning back to tell Violet her plan.
Violet wore her coat as her stepmother spoke in a silent battle of wills. When the explanation was completed, Violet’s gaze narrowed, but Lady Eleanor was undeterred.
“You realize he’s a duke.” Lady Eleanor glanced around the parlor while Violet tried to pull her mouth closed. Was she mad?
“No,” Violet repeated, precisely, shooting for an even tone and failing. “I don’t care who he is. Duke or not, he’s both awful and not our friend.”
“I’m not accepting a no on this.” Lady Eleanor smiled smoothly and evenly, as though she had a right to control Violet’s wedding—or for that matter—her life. Her stepmother had already switched Violet’s order of peonies to lilies and changed the time of the wedding from the afternoon to the morning.
“He’s awful,” Violet repeated. “And Jack has never met this duke.”
“Don’t be smart.”
“I am not being smart,” Violet ground out. “Jack’s best man will be Hamilton Barnes with Denny and Victor standing up alongside.”
“Barnes,” Lady Eleanor said with a sneer, “is a detective.”
“Lady Eleanor,” Violet snapped, losing all patience, “so is Jack.”
“Well, for now—”
Violet’s gaze widened and flicked over her stepmother. Oh by Jove! The woman intended to move her games from Victor and Violet to Jack. Violet was not going to allow it. “You will leave Jack alone.”
“Darling, I am focused on what is best for our family—for your family. I would think you’d appreciate the sacrifices I make for us all.”
Violet rose, adjusted the belt around her coat, and then—while looking down at her stepmother—said, “Jack will not have this man, regardless of his title or status, stand up with him on our wedding day. This is my wedding, and you will leave Jack and his friendships and his career alone, or I will start publishing under Lady Violet Carlyle instead of V. V. Twinnings, and you will find a character who is a disturbing mix of you and a vampire and a sewer creature. I will then call up that Emily Allen and invite her to write an article all about my new book. I’m sure she’ll make it salacious and awful.”
“If you think your father—”
Violet stopped at the doorway and turned back. “If you think my father hasn’t realized your games or if you think that I will successfully let you play them in my marriage, you are very, very wrong. Accept your defeat now.”
“Or what?” Lady Eleanor smiled calmly and lifted her brow. She also, however, avoided meeting Violet’s gaze.
Violet’s head tilted and she smiled slowly, evilly. “Do you truly wish to find out? I can assure you it will be worse than frogs in your bed or whatever other nonsense Victor and I have done to you in the past.”
“What I want is for you to acknowledge who you are and embrace it. Call off this farce of a marriage and help our family avoid the stigma of a divorce. We all know where it will end, Violet. Stop being a romantic fool.”
Violet glared, and she slammed the door of the parlor, snapping at Hargreaves. “Ignore her until she goes away, unless you find her stealing the silver. If she asks for tea or sandwiches, agree and fail to deliver.”
Hargreaves was expressionless as Violet took her handbag from the table in the hall and ran down the steps of the house to the waiting car.
“Drive to the grey stone house on the corner and pause for a few minutes,” she told the cabbie. “After which, I’ll give you the address of where we’re actually going.”
The driver glanced at Violet. “Whatever you want, lady.”
The grey stone house with the wrought iron fence was one of the largest on the street. The window over the door was a stained glass of a night sky. Violet had made her first mark on the house by replacing the gate. The previous gate had rusted, and she had chosen a new wrought iron one, the center of which had been twisted into a dragon form. Jack had laughed when Violet told him what she’d ordered, which told her he was the perfect man for her. She’d ordered dragon-shaped door knockers as well so they’d match. She’d also replaced the stone lions with stone dragons. They were ridiculous and made her smile.
The garden had become overgrown. The gentleman that had owned the house before had been elderly and eventually he’d had to sell. Violet and Jack had the chance to fix everything with their own touches. They’d gone less ‘bright young thing’ and more ‘responsible upper class privileged’ with the new paper and art deco touches throughout the stately mansion.
With a new carved bed here, new Chesterfields there, a dining room full of painted, dragon-embossed wall paper, the house was becoming their own. Violet wanted more than anything to move in, which surprised her, since the idea of not living with her twin made her feel lost. Yet somehow, the closer her wedding day came, the more Victor’s London house felt foreign while the home she was creating with Jack felt like where she should be.
Violet arrived at Lila’s house soon after she left her new home. She had only needed to see it and remember what was ahead. It would help her get through the madness of her stepmother inserting herself back into Vi’s life.
“Are you ready?” Lila asked, as she swung the door open. Her long-suffering butler stood behind her. He was not as much of a master of expressionlessness as Hargreaves, so Violet caught his gaze shooting to the ceiling before he tried and failed to smooth it into stone.
Violet winked at the butler and then hooked her arm through Lila’s. “Ready to shop for the honeymoon? No.” She could feel her face heat thoroughly. “Need to? Yes. I suppose a flannel nightgown to my neck and down to my ankles is out of the question.”
“Vi,” Lila laughed lazily, “who knew you’d be such a delicate flower? Although—” Lila’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I doubt Jack will mind anything you wear.”
Violet’s face was so hot, she had a hard time thinking beyond the fire in her cheeks. She adjusted the belt
of her coat, smoothed her fringe off of her face and asked, “Shall we go?”
The fabric was bordered with lace and embroidery, but the vast majority of it, if you could use the word ‘majority,’ was utterly sheer. The—ah, what did you even call something so small? Whatever the name—it would show at least half of her breasts and barely end below her bottom.
Violet slipped her fingers between the slight layers of fabric and noted the outline of her fingers. If she wore this with nothing else beneath it, every single inch of her body would be on display.
“Yes,” Lila said instantly. Violet’s face heated to a whole other extent. It was painful.
“I—”
“Yes,” Lila repeated. “You must. I don’t actually want to see the look on Jack’s face, but I would very much like to see the look on Denny’s if I buy this pink one. Darling, of course with your name, you’re buying purple. You have time to order one with violets embroidered along the edges.”
“It’s just so—”
“Scandalous?”
“Yes!”
“You’re getting married, darling. Just because you and Jack are toeing the Victorian line doesn’t mean that you aren’t going to enjoy what comes next.”
Violet shot Lila an entirely useless quelling look. Lila simply laughed. Vi’s gaze narrowed. “Are you and Denny still thinking of having children?”
“I—oh! You are evil.” Lila’s grin declared Violet the winner.
“Will you help me find some pretty things and maybe something I won’t be too shy to wear at first?”
“Darling,” Lila said, cupping Violet’s cheek as Jack did so often, “you could wear a burlap sack tied off with ancient mariner rope, and Jack wouldn’t even notice. He’s so besotted with you all he can see are the stars in your eyes.”
Violet shot Lila another quelling look, and her friend merely shrugged. They both paused as another woman came into the boutique. She was, perhaps, a year or two older than Lila and Denny. Exotic with just enough detailing in her wardrobe to show she had bought it somewhere else. Somewhere far and wonderful. Her face was overly brown for the current fashion, but her perfect rouge and lipstick, expensive shoes, with fitted, tailored clothes, those proclaimed that despite her brown skin, she was another of that privileged class that Violet had been thinking of earlier.
Her hair was a golden blonde pulled back into a tight bun, and she had brilliantly blue eyes. She had a straight perfect nose, straight white teeth, and delicate arches to her brows. She was, in many ways, the personification of a typical English woman.
Lila grinned and demanded in her lazy, nosy way, “Where have you been? My goodness! You look like you’ve just escaped the plains of Africa.”
“Does Africa have plains?” Violet asked with a sniff. “I honestly don’t know. I suppose that makes me a bit of an idiot. I feel like all I might know about Africa is out of the Tarzan novels. I wonder if those are accurate.”
“A little bit of an idiot,” the blonde girl said with a giant grin. “Africa is one of the continents, you know? They have plains and mountains and everything.”
“Everything?” Lila asked, sounding bored.
“I’ve just never been.” Violet took a long deep breath in and then her gaze turned to Lila.
“No.”
“It would be fun.”
“No,” Lila repeated. “I prefer my vacation spots to have an ocean.”
“Africa has oceans,” the woman said. She held out a hand to Violet. “If you need a partner for Africa, I am your girl. Rita Russell, darling. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Violet Carlyle,” Vi replied. “This flower over here is Lila Lancaster. However, I’m about to get a new partner, I’m afraid. Who, I’m sure, would insist on coming with me to Africa.”
“Violet Carlyle? Lady Violet Carlyle? Lady Violet Carlyle, the author? With her twin, the author V.V. Twinnings? Engaged to the clever Jack Wakefield? That Violet Carlyle?”
Violet glanced at Lila, who had lost her lazy, bored look for shock.
“Why would you know all of that?” Vi demanded.
“Oh,” Rita grinned. “I went to school with Emily Allen. Miss Allen, you know, was quite fond of Mr. Wakefield once.”
“I am aware,” Violet told Rita calmly.
It was Lila who broke the sudden tension with a hysterical giggle. “Your face! Oh my goodness, your face, Violet. It’s the pretty version of what Jack looks like when Theodophilus come around. Sort of terrifying and—”
“You know,” Rita cut in, “if you’re going to so rudely abandon me on my next trip to Africa, you simply must have tea with me. Or luncheon. Or perhaps we could do both with a long walk in between.” Her voice was dry and the way she emphasized her words told Violet that Rita was quietly evil. Violet enjoyed the other woman immediately.
“Oooh,” Lila said lazily, “that does sound like quite the commitment for new friends. Perhaps tea, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
Violet’s laughter of agreement was answer enough, and Rita Russell held out her card. “Tomorrow?”
“So quickly,” Lila mused to Violet. “Miss Russell is enchanted with you. I wonder—is it because Emily Allen doesn’t like you—”
“Despises her with a fiery passion,” Rita inserted. “Let’s not water things down.”
Lila nodded. “Or is this quick-witted woman entranced because you’re an earl’s daughter?”
“It was the Africa joke,” Rita Russell replied. “If Lady Violet Carlyle didn’t know that Africa has plains, mountains, and oceans, I will eat my hat. Therefore, she was playing games with the idiocy of the common bright young thing. I do enjoy a secret joke.”
“Oh, I like her,” Lila declared. “If I were a lesser woman, I would be more territorial of my friend, but I know my worth. Also,” she added to Vi, “she’ll like me better than you in the end.”
Violet rolled her eyes and took the card Rita held out.
“Oh,” Rita told Lila, “you are invited too. The infamous Lady Violet Carlyle’s dearest friend? What secrets do you hide, my dear?”
“All of them.” Lila handed Violet the sheer purple lingerie. “Finish up darling. The big day is coming.”
Vi took it with a wince, winked at Rita, and then pulled the shop girl into a corner. “Just send over an excessive amount of these types of things.”
“The lingerie?” The girl’s eyes were wide, and she was biting her bottom lip to hide a wide grin.
“I’ll send back what I don’t want. I can’t possibly, ah, do this with an audience.”
“Don’t worry,” Lila said loudly, “she’ll keep it all. Think of the commission.” Her comment was followed by a whispered aside to Rita, probably teasing Violet and explaining her as well. Which was confirmed a moment later when Rita Russell’s laughter chased Violet out of the boutique.
Chapter 2
Victor plopped onto the Chesterfield next to Violet, propped his feet up on the ottoman in front of them and moaned. When Violet didn’t react, he moaned again. She lifted a brow his way and then closed her eyes again.
“I had luncheon with Stepmother. Kate somehow was too ill to attend. My twin did not deign to appear.”
Vi ignored the twin comment. “Kate seems better lately. I thought the sicking up had stopped. She’s—what’s the word—glowing?”
Victor grinned, telling Violet without words that Kate had decided that her feet up, a book in her hand, and a box of chocolates was a better option for an afternoon than a meal with her in-law. Victor continued. “Somehow Stepmother seemed to think you were going to be there.”
“I wonder why she’d think a foolish thing,” Violet mused. “You know, after our little tête-à-tête yesterday, I decided some distance between Lady Eleanor and myself would be a good thing. Perhaps a continent, two.”
“She wants to know how to get Jack to stop working. Or, conversely, how to get him to work so much that you’ll grow frustrated and leave him. Forever. Perhaps wit
h a long journey on the continent with a rich Russian prince or a poor English duke. She seems to think that you succumbing to a moderately anti-heroic but titled man is romantic. She says your upright morality and idiotic righteousness will redeem this fictional villain.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it, how the lack of money doesn’t matter for someone like His Grace, Duke of the Empty Coffers.”
“It’s certainly telling, Violet darling. What shall we do about her?”
“I started a new story,” she told him. “Just this morning.”
“Did you? The one we were talking about?”
“Indeed. I would have loved to be scolded by our stepmother once again, but Jack has been called to Leeds for some case there, and I am avoiding another round of the blues. Especially with you and Kate abandoning me as well. One must be careful.”
Victor tossed her an irritated glance. “You are referring to seeing the three houses your man of business found for us in the same neighborhood as Jack’s country house?”
“Yes. Abandoning me. It’s not like you aren’t planning on staying there soon and leaving me here.”
“Violet Carlyle, twin, devil, I experienced a half hour-long tirade about the location of the country house we were purchasing in comparison to the country house of my in-laws. Choosing you over Mrs. Lancaster has put me permanently in the doghouse.”
“I thought you were buying a house there as well.”
“I am,” he snapped. “I’m not fully mad! Only, Kate told me we can’t go there when she has the baby. Somehow Mother has discovered we intend to go to the country house before the baby is born. It’s left me as the villain of that side of the family since it cannot possibly be Kate’s choice.”
