The Adventure of the Murdered Gypsy

by Liese Sherwood-Fabre

  Her reply came in a wavering voice. With her back to me, I couldn’t see but detected tears in her voice. “But…but what about our plans? London? The town house—”

  “Are you saying you planned to live in the London town house?” Father asked. His face now mimicked my brother’s. Truly, they were two peas in a pod, father and son. “I can assure you, should you follow through with this mad scheme, you will be cut off. There’ll be no town house for you, boy. Or anything else.”

  Mycroft faced my father and straightened his back. While the term boy most likely stung his pride, I was more certain the reference to his mental state was what locked his spine. No one could accuse my brother of anything that wasn’t based on cold calculations, which was why I had never understood his obsession with Miss Meredith from the beginning.

  “Do you really think that concerns me?” A sneer tinged his words. “This…this hulking anchor around your neck holds no interest to me. Cut me off, if you wish. I’ll make my way without any help from you.”

  “If you think you can use the Holmes name as a means of continuing your contacts in London or the law, you are mistaken. You marry this woman, and you’ll be cut off from all polite society as well.”

  From my vantage point, I could see the back of my brother’s neck deepen to a dark crimson. He fairly ground out his response through clenched teeth. “If you’re threatening to spread tales—”

  “I’m not threatening,” Father said, giving his vest a tug as if to straighten it. He squared his shoulders as he continued to address his son. “I’m stating a fact. This…girl will never be accepted into polite society once the truth about her past is known.”

  Meredith confronted the colonel, who had remained silent during this exchange between my brother and father. Now, it was her cheeks that darkened. “You…you told them? I can’t believe—”

  Before the colonel could answer, Mycroft turned to the woman. I could now see his face. The skin about his eyes sagged. When he spoke, all vinegar had left his voice. “Meredith, …dear, what are they referencing?”

  Father’s gaze fixed on Meredith. “Williams here is not her uncle. She’s an orphan. Lost her parents several years ago.”

  “But that doesn’t mean—” Mycroft stopped as all the pieces of Father’s implications finally fell into place. Regardless of the colonel’s comportment during any travels with Meredith, the girl’s reputation was ruined. Not to mention her having been a spy and served in the field with another man—a younger one at that—who was not her husband or even betrothed. How could the heir of Father’s lands and position ever marry such a woman? Not to mention, the deceit on Meredith’s part certainly dampened any affections he had developed for her. He spoke to the woman who had now been cast as a quite different person from the one he knew. His tone was now cold, without any hint of emotion—good or bad. “Meredith, is this true?”

  She raised her chin. “That I’m an orphan? Yes. But I can assure you the colonel has treated me as a niece, regardless of any blood connection.” Her voice carried the same haughty tone she had used since the first night.

  “Were it not getting quite late,” Colonel Williams said, giving a little cough, “I would suggest we leave immediately. But given the hour and difficulties of finding transportation or other accommodations tonight, I would like to ask you to indulge us one last evening. We will all three be gone in the morning.”

  Mother inhaled a breath. I knew she was considering the implications of the three of them leaving before we had identified the attacker. Not to mention possibly putting at least one—most likely Chanda—into the hands of a killer.

  Father’s stare settled on each of the three for a moment before his head bobbed in agreement. “I will allow you to stay, but the first train leaves for London at seven in the morning. Simpson will have the wagon ready to take you at five. Once you are on the train, I don’t expect to hear from any of you again.”

  “Quite right,” the colonel said. “I appreciate your hospitality. I do want to have a chance for a proper good-bye to Ernest.”

  Meredith, however, seemed not quite willing to take her leave from my brother so quickly. She stepped to him and kept her gaze on him until he finally met hers. He blinked several times, and my heart went out to him. All illusions about the woman he had professed to love had been shattered. I bit my lip, worry pressing on me. Instead of the burst of anger I might have anticipated, his features seemed to droop—from exhaustion or regret, I wasn’t sure.

  “Is that what you want?” she asked when he turned his full attention to her. “For me to leave?”

  “I-I want…” His voice trailed off and ended in a sigh. “For things to be as they were. What with all I just learned…I don’t know what I truly want.”

  “Things are only different if you allow them to be. I haven’t changed. I’m the same person I was.”

  “I-I am not sure I am.” Another sigh. “I-I can’t think right now. Perhaps it would be better if you left. There is nothing that would keep us from renewing our…acquaintance once certain difficulties have been resolved.”

  The girl scowled at him in response. “Surely I am more than simply an acquaintance? If that is all that I am to you, perhaps it is best to end it now. I wouldn’t want you to be burdened by such an inconsequential matter as—as me.”

  This retort was followed by her storming toward the stairs. Mother grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her sitting room. She had barely enough time to close the door before our guest stomped in the other direction toward her—soon to be mine again—room.

  I opened my mouth to ask a question, but Mother put a finger to her lips. She leaned an ear against the door. I had no idea for what—or whom—she was hoping to hear. After an interminable time, she straightened and shook her head.

  “No one appears to have followed Meredith up the stairs. Not even the colonel. Why did he not seek to comfort her? There are times I wonder…” Her thought trailed off, and she stared out the window for a moment before focusing on me.

  “All the actors are here, and the traps set. I do hope the guilty one will take the bait.”

  “Colonel Williams, right? I’ve considered him from the beginning.”

  “The colonel? Really?” she asked. “I suppose that’s possible…” Again, her thoughts seemed to take another path. A moment later, her attention shifted back to the room. “I don’t need to tell you how important it is for you to remain vigilant over your cousin tonight.”

  A rock settled in the pit of my stomach. “Do you think I can? Take on anyone who might harm him?”

  “Of course,” she said, setting her shoulders. “You are a highly trained combatant, and I know there is no one who would defend your cousin with more heart than you.”

  I glanced away from her, my cheeks burning. While I appreciated my mother’s confidence, I worried it might be misplaced. A “highly-trained combatant” suggested more than a few months of baritsu training. But she was correct about one thing. After all I’d been through with my cousin in the past few days, I knew I would make every effort to keep him safe.

  Chapter Twelve

  Once again, I found myself waiting in the dark for someone to appear. At least this time it was inside and warm, which made it a little more difficult to remain awake. Add to that Trevor’s rhythmic breathing, and I had to fight to keep alert. I dug my fingernails into my palms, bit the inside of my mouth, and completed complex mathematical equations to maintain my alertness. Despite all these efforts, as the foyer clock struck one, my eyelids drooped, and my thoughts drifted from the square root of some quite large number to the soft, warm cocoon I could form in my bed.

  With lethargy weighing my limbs and my mind contemplating the comforts of sleep, I forced myself to rise from a dark corner at the far end of the room where I’d kept vigil and slip to the schoolroom next door. My body required some movement.

  No sooner had I entered the room than I heard footsteps coming near. My stomach roiled at the so
und, and I suppressed the urge to slap my forehead. Had I just put my young cousin in danger by leaving his side?

  Taking a deep breath, I tiptoed back through the corridor and peered through the still half-opened door. Despite the quite dark night, I recognized my brother’s bulk immediately.

  “Mycroft,” I said in a harsh whisper through the crack. “What are you doing here?”

  The large shadow spun about to face me and responded in a similar whisper.

  “Looking for…” His voice trailed off for a second. “You. I was searching for you. You are sleeping here?”

  I waved a hand, although he probably couldn’t see it in the dark. “Come out here. Let’s talk in the classroom.”

  After closing the door, I considered lighting a candle, but feared I might alert someone coming onto the floor. Instead, I turned to him and kept my voice low. “You weren’t checking on me. Who was your true interest? Meredith?”

  “She seems to have disappeared.” He hesitated as if listening for something.

  My ears ached as I searched the silence for whatever he’d heard. After several heartbeats, I opened my mouth to tell him he was hearing things but shut it when I detected it too. The step was soft, dampened to the point of almost no sound. My brother crept to the door and cracked it open. After a pause, he stepped out and a slight struggle ensued. When quiet returned, Mycroft escorted Colonel Williams into the schoolroom and shut the door.

  In the dark, I allowed myself a secret smile. My suspicions had been correct. The colonel was the one behind the attacks, and he had come to finish Trevor. Before I could congratulate my brother on his capture, the colonel spoke to Mycroft.

  “Have you seen her?”

  Mycroft waved a hand in my direction. “We are not alone, sir.”

  “What? Oh, I see,” he said.

  “At this point,” Mycroft said, “I don’t believe there’s a need to keep things a secret from my brother. In fact, it might be worthwhile to bring him in on our charade. I believe he and my parents might be working at cross-purposes to our own efforts.”

  I was quite glad darkness cloaked us. Social convention would have censured my staring open-mouthed at the two men, but that was all I could do. My brother and our guest seemed to be working together. Which of us had been duped? Mycroft or I?

  My brother answered that thought with his next breath.

  “We don’t have time to go into all the particulars,” Mycroft said, “but suffice it to know that my attraction to Miss Meredith has been a ruse. The colonel pulled me into his confidence shortly after our arrival when she seemed to have fixed her attentions on me.”

  “You’re not in love with her?” I asked, a flood of relief passing through me even as anger at his deception rose. At least I didn’t have to worry anymore about the woman becoming my future sister-in-law.

  “I became aware of some odd behavior by Meredith on our journey from India,” the colonel said. “Once we arrived in port, she disappeared for several hours. She reported having identified some agents of Chanda’s father and that is why we decided to seek refuge. Your uncle came to mind.”

  “Only with Father and Mother now pushing them from Underbyrne,” Mycroft said, “her plans appear to have changed. If they had allowed me to run off with her, we might have found out her true intentions. Instead, she may have escaped without any indication of her full plans.”

  All this information required me to reassess what I had observed or overheard to that point. My brother wasn’t besotted with the woman as Mother and I had feared. The girl was manipulating, but also being manipulated. But there remained the issue of…

  “Chanda,” I whispered.

  “She is as we have presented her. A loyal subject of the crown. Who risked her life to bring vital information to our attention,” the colonel said.

  “That’s where Meredith might be,” I said. “Chanda has something that Meredith covets.”

  The colonel’s shadow motioned to the door. “Go. Make certain she’s all right. I’ll stay here to ensure your cousin is safe.”

  The two men stepped into the hallway, but I hesitated. I had already abandoned Trevor once this evening, now I was being encouraged to do so again. And leave him in the hands of a man whose identity was not clear from the beginning. The only thing that persuaded me to follow my brother was Mycroft’s and Ernest’s trust in the man. I only prayed it was not misplaced. I silently pledged to return to Trevor’s bedroom as soon as I established Chanda’s safety.

  The servants’ area was eerily quiet. Of course, the times I had spent there packing Mr. Moto’s room and helping Mother search and straighten Chanda’s occurred during the day. While the area itself might be devoid of people, their bustle in the kitchen and other areas below traveled up the stairwell. Now, only their rhythmic breathing, interrupted by snores, passed under their closed doors.

  Outside Chanda’s room, we paused, and I searched the dark for Mother. She had planned to keep watch over the Indian woman, but the area around her room offered no space to hide. Chanda’s room offered the only alternative. Mycroft placed a hand on the knob and leaned against it, as if checking for movement.

  His shadow raised its hand and rapped on the door.

  We waited. Once again, I held my breath as my hearing sought any indication of movement from the other side of the partition.

  Nothing.

  The second knock was louder, but not so forceful as to wake those behind the other doors.

  Still nothing.

  He turned the knob, and the door swung open.

  I focused my attention first on the unusual condition of the unlocked door.

  A moment later the continued quiet in the room raised the hairs on the back of my neck. My concern rising, I pushed past my brother and into the room. With my second step, I hit something soft and nearly fell on top of whatever blocked my path.

  My eyes already adjusted to the darkness, I could make out a heap on the floor. I reached down. The form was warm and covered in a woolen fabric. I turned to my brother.

  “We need some light,” I whispered.

  “But—”

  “Find a candle and light it. But be careful. I think I just found Mother.”

  Mycroft disappeared and returned with a light.

  “What’s going on?” a woman asked from the hallway.

  Mycroft spun about, illuminating one of the maids. She must have been awakened by our movements. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a squeak.

  The three of us turned our attention back to the room. Mother lay sprawled facedown on the floor. Chanda lay in her bed with her head hanging off the side. The covers were scattered at the floor at the foot of the bed, as if she had kicked them off.

  “Good lord,” the maid said. “What happened here?”

  “Meredith,” Mycroft said and glanced over his shoulder at the maid. “Find some smelling salts and bring them here.”

  The woman ran off, making little whimpering noises that I was certain would draw some of the other servants from their rooms. He turned Mother over. My throat constricted when I saw her ashen face. When he placed a hand near her nose, my mouth dried to the point I could barely scratch out my question. “Is she—?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “She’s breathing. Just unconscious.”

  When he rose and turned to attend to Chanda, I knelt beside my mother. Color now pinked her cheeks, and my own breathing returned to a more normal rhythm. I ran my hand over the back of her head, checking for lumps or any other indication of how she had been attacked. I could find no marks on her until I happened to see her hand. The nail of the middle finger on her right hand was torn. The index finger’s nail was bloody. She must have fought her attacker.

  A second later, she drew in a deep breath, and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Sherry, dear, what are you—?” She raised herself on her elbows and searched the room. “Chanda. Is she—?”

  “She’s fine, Mother,” Mycroft said from behind
us. “Just passed out, but her color is returning.”

  Mother’s eyes widened. “Trevor. Did you leave him alone?”

  “Colonel Williams is with him,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She grabbed my hand, her eyes now quite round.

  “Get back to him. Now. He’s in grave danger.” She turned to Mycroft. “I’ll see to Chanda. Go. Both of you.”

  The urgency in her voice propelled me out of the room and up the servants’ stairs to the nursery. No longer concerned with stealth, I ran up the stairs, the pounding of my footsteps reverberating off the stairwell’s walls. I could hear Mycroft huffing behind me as I took the steps two at a time.

  I paused at the nursery door and scanned the darkened room. Besides Trevor’s form in the bed, I could make out another shape on the floor by the foot of the bed. I dashed over and turned the colonel over to check him. He was still breathing. Before I could check on Trevor, a hand landed on my shoulder, and I yelped before I could stop myself.

  “Hush, you fool,” Mycroft whispered.

  But it was too late.

  Quick footsteps neared. From the threshold, Miss Bowen raised a candle, revealing the scene.

  “Oh no,” she said and rushed to Trevor’s bed, throwing back the covers.

  What I had thought in the dark was my cousin, I realized now was a pillow placed to appear as if he were in the bed. The colonel had been unable to fend off the attacker, and now Trevor was gone.

  Mycroft addressed the governess. “You make certain Trevor isn’t hiding here in the nursery. Sherlock and I will start the search for him elsewhere.”

  “What about the colonel?” she asked.

  Based on Mother’s and Chanda’s responses, I said, “He should be all right and awaken shortly.”

  Mycroft signaled me to rise and follow him. Along the way, I snagged a candle and lit it from Miss Bowen’s.

  Once in the hallway, I circled about but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  “She can’t have gone far,” Mycroft said in a low voice when I faced him again.