Lucy and Robert's joy in christening their new daughter, surrounded by extended family and loved ones who have gathered in the village of Kurland St. Mary, is only enhanced when Robert's aunt Rose—now the second wife of Lucy's father Ambrose—announces that she is with child. However, not everyone is happy about the news, in particular Rose's adult daughter Henrietta and her husband, who fear for their inheritance.
Following the christening, Rose's disagreeable son-in-law Basil Northam threatens to turn afternoon tea in the rectory into an unsightly brawl. The next morning, he is found in the rector's study, stabbed through the heart with an antique letter opener, clutching a note that appears to implicate the rector himself.
As the local justice of the peace, Robert has an obligation to remain unbiased in his investigation of the ghastly crime, even though his prime suspect is a man of the cloth and his wife's father. But Lucy is under no such obligation. As snow traps the members of the christening party in Kurland St. Mary, she vows to clear her father's name and bring the cold-blooded culprit to justice. Someone had better start saying their prayers . . .
Release date:
January 26, 2021
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
304
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
“Robert, I just had a rather odd letter from my aunt Jane.”
Lucy, Lady Kurland, came into her husband’s study, the closely cross-written letter still in her hand. It was a cold day in Kurland St. Mary, with sullen gray skies holding the promise of snow. No one had yet ventured out for very good reason.
“Odd?” Robert looked up at her from his position behind his desk, where his two dogs slept quietly at his booted feet. “Your aunt Jane is one of the most upright and starchy people I have ever met. I doubt she even knows the meaning of the word.”
“Well, that’s just it.” Lucy returned her attention to the letter. “She says that Julia will no longer accompany her to Elizabeth’s christening and that Julia’s engagement to Lord Penzey is at an end.”
“Your aunt Jane is going to be Elizabeth’s godmother, so why does it matter whether Julia comes or not?” Robert asked. “If Julia ended her engagement, she might not feel like attending a party in the countryside with a bunch of curious relatives.”
“But we have already received our invitation to the wedding. Aunt Jane doesn’t say whether Julia called it off or whether it was Penzey.” Lucy frowned as she turned the letter sideways to read her aunt’s crossed scrawl.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because if Julia did it, that will damage her chances of attracting another suitor because she will be considered flighty, and if he did it, then I suspect my uncle will be inquiring as to why.”
“And taking Penzey to court to air the family dirty linen?” Robert shrugged. “I can’t see that happening, can you?”
“It depends how far the marriage contract has progressed, and whether any money has changed hands.” Lucy sighed. “Whatever the outcome, I cannot help but worry about my cousin.”
Robert rose to his feet and came around the side of his desk to wrap a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulders. “My dear girl, you have enough to worry about organizing this christening without taking on a problem that I am fairly certain the Earl and Countess of Harrington can deal with perfectly well by themselves.”
“You’re probably right,” Lucy admitted as she briefly rested her head against her husband’s shoulder. “Aunt Jane says Max will be joining them instead.”
“Max?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “Now, why on earth would a young man about town allow himself to be roped into a family christening?”
“Because he’s in disgrace again?” Lucy consulted the letter. “Apparently, Max is in debt. My uncle is refusing to even discuss settling his obligations and has insisted that Max accompany them to the christening.”
Robert sighed. “I’m glad our children are still young.”
“I can assure you that neither Ned nor Elizabeth will ever behave like this,” Lucy said tartly.
Robert chuckled and flicked her cheek with his fingertip. “Don’t be so sure, my dear. As you well know, I was quite wild in my younger years. Now, are you ready to accompany me to the rectory? I need to speak to your father about the new pony for Ned, and, I’m fairly certain you will enjoy a comfortable chat with my aunt about all the arrangements for the christening.”
“She has offered to put some of our guests up in the rectory, which is very kind of her considering the twins have just come home for the school holidays,” Lucy said as she tucked her hand into his elbow and headed toward the stairs. “I can’t believe how much Luke and Michael have grown!”
“They are certainly going to be as tall and broad as your father,” Robert agreed. “I can’t imagine how much food they consume, can you?”
“Having been my father’s housekeeper for years before my marriage, and responsible for ordering supplies for all my brothers, I can tell you that Cook will be kept very busy,” Lucy replied.
Robert paused at the top of the stairs and looked up toward the nursery above. “Shall we take Elizabeth with us?”
His obvious adoration and devotion to their newly born daughter had taken Lucy somewhat by surprise. She never mentioned it directly, because it was such a pleasure to watch her rather stern husband leap to satisfy Elizabeth’s every whim.
She glanced out the window. “As I suspect it is about to snow, I’d rather she stayed in the nursery in case she catches a cold before her christening.”
“You are probably right.” Robert resumed walking. “It would be a shame to ruin her big day—especially when her godmother is going to be a countess.”
As Elizabeth had been born earlier than expected and was rather small, Lucy was aware that she was a little overprotective of her daughter. She had delayed the christening until her father had begun to ask some rather pointed questions about his granddaughter remaining a heathen. At three months old, Elizabeth had gained weight and was a charming, sunny child whom everyone said greatly resembled her mother.
It was unusual for Aunt Jane to confide family business to Lucy, and this made her wonder just how difficult things had become in the titled branch of her father’s family for her formidable aunt to stoop to explanations and excuses. Max would not enjoy the christening, which would irritate his parents and probably make matters between him and his father even worse.
As Lucy put on her bonnet, stout boots, and warmest coat, she promised herself that whatever happened at the ceremony she would find a way to deal with it. She was known as a remarkably resourceful woman who had faced down murderers and thieves. A mere christening should not trouble her at all.
After greeting his aunt Rose, whose marriage to his wife’s father had somewhat complicated their family relationships, Robert retired to the rector’s study. His father-in-law was an avid horseman, rider to hounds, and dog breeder, and thus the perfect person to choose a horse for Ned, who at the age of four was itching to ride by himself. It was a skill Robert was unable to teach him without resurrecting too many memories of his horse rolling on top of him at Waterloo.
He’d taught himself to drive a gig again, and could tolerate being in the stables, but the ability to watch over his son while he learned to ride with all its terrifying implications was beyond him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he’d had to accept it. Luckily, his staff and his horse-mad father-in-law were more than willing to teach Ned all he needed to know.
The choice of a suitable pony had diverted the rector’s attention from his three congregations for at least a month, and Robert was heartily sick of the matter. As a child, he’d scrambled onto the back of any horse he’d been allowed to mount without concern for the horse’s disposition, height, or breed. He’d been thrown off a few times, which was entirely his own fault, and perhaps, on reflection, not something he would wish for his son.
“I’ve found the perfect pony for Ned.”
Robert redirected his wandering attention to his father-in-law.
“Ah, finally! I mean, that is excellent news. Is the pony close by?”
“Yes, indeed! In Kurland St. Anne of all places. A retired groom of mine bred him, and I couldn’t wish for a better animal.” The rector cleared his throat. “As to the matter of payment, I instructed Albert Lawrence to send the bill directly to you. I did not have the necessary funds on me to pay for the transaction when I met with him yesterday.”
“That’s quite all right.” Robert said. “Will the pony be brought over to Kurland Hall, or do we need to fetch it?”
“Albert will bring him over. We thought we should wait until after the christening, then surprise Ned for Christmas.”
“An excellent suggestion.” Robert nodded. “He’s not been happy about Elizabeth’s arrival and has been making his feelings known rather too loudly. I suspect rewarding him with a pony right now is the last thing he needs. In fact, I’ll keep the little blighter away from Ned for good if his behavior doesn’t improve.”
The rector chuckled. “I remember Tom being most indignant when his younger brothers and sisters arrived. He kicked the cradle and insisted that it was still his and that no one else should be allowed in there.” His smile disappeared. “Alas, poor Tom didn’t live long enough to experience the joys and travails of being a father himself, God rest his soul.”
“Indeed.” Robert allowed a moment of silence to develop between them. Tom, the rector’s oldest child, had died in the wars Robert had barely survived. “I know that Lucy still misses him very much.”
The rector busied himself pushing a pile of papers to one side on his desk. “The first Mrs. Harrington and I lost two children shortly after their births, but somehow it is far worse to lose an adult son.” He looked up at Robert, his gaze clear. “Please do excuse my reminisces. I do not normally choose to dwell on the negative, but this year has been rather trying.”
“It must gladden your heart to have the twins home for Christmas, then, sir?” Uncomfortable with his father-in-law’s unusual display of emotion, Robert attempted to redirect the conversation into a more positive vein. “They are growing into fine young men.”
“Yes, they are.” The rector glanced at the stack of papers again. “But, goodness me, their school fees are enormous.”
“Perhaps you could find a school closer to home so they don’t have to board?” Robert suggested.
“Oh, no, that wouldn’t do at all,” the rector said firmly. “The Harrington family has always gone to Harrow and Eton.”
Even though Robert had attended a lesser public school and suffered no harm from it, he declined to get into an argument. His father-in-law was the second son of an earl and held himself and his family to very high standards. Robert doubted the twins would care where they went to school, but it was not his place to interfere. He would leave that to his wife.
Robert bowed. “Well, I am glad that you have found a suitable pony for Ned, and I offer you my thanks. Tell Albert Lawrence to send the bill directly to Mr. Fletcher up at the hall.”
“It was a pleasure.” The rector stood and gestured to the door. “Shall we go and join the ladies? I’m sure Lucy will want to discuss the final details for the christening. Like most women, she does tend to fuss somewhat.”
Robert made no reply to that and instead followed his father-in-law through to the back parlor, where his aunt and wife were ensconced. The twins were nowhere to be seen, as they had gone out to visit their old village friends and would probably not return until dinnertime.
Rose looked up and smiled as they entered the charming parlor.
“Ambrose! Robert! How lovely of you to join us. Would you care for some tea?”
“That would be most welcome.” Robert came to sit beside his wife. “And, although I am quite certain Lucy has already offered her thanks for your offer to accommodate some of our guests for the christening, I’d like to add mine.”
“Oh, it’s no bother.” Rose waved away his concerns. “You know I love having guests—the more the merrier.”
The rector cleared his throat and directed such a searching gaze at his wife that even Robert noticed. “Are you quite certain, my dear?”
“I am.” Rose smiled up at her husband. “And I promise that you won’t be put out at all, Ambrose. I have everything in hand.”
Robert studied his aunt carefully. She did look a little tired, but with everything that was going on in the rectory—with the twins returning, the preparations for the christening, and the yuletide celebrations—he wasn’t surprised. If Lucy had any concerns for his aunt’s welfare, he was fairly certain she would share them with him later.
A tap at the door announced the arrival of the kitchen maid with a fresh pot of tea. Robert couldn’t help but notice that the rector helped himself to a brandy from the decanter on the sideboard instead. It was unusual for his father-in-law to start drinking so early in the day, and he wondered if his sharp-eyed wife would comment on it.
As the maid left the room, there was a small commotion in the hallway, and a man raised his voice.
“If you please, Maddy, I just want to speak to the rector. I won’t take but a moment of his time.”
Robert instinctively rose to his feet as the man entered the room and then relaxed as he recognized a familiar face.
“Good morning, Mr. Harper.”
The owner of the local mill took off his hat and stared down at his boots.
“Morning, Sir Robert. I don’t want to intrude, but I need to have a word with the rector, here.”
“What about?” Robert glanced from Mr. Harper to the rector, whose color was rising alarmingly and who appeared to have been struck dumb.
“It’s his bills, Sir Robert,” Mr. Harper blurted out. “He owes me almost a year’s worth. I wouldn’t normally ask, but my wife has just given birth to a new baby, and I need the money something rotten.”
Robert put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and drew him back toward the door.
“Come with me, Sid, and let’s see if we can straighten this out.”
After sending Sid Harper up to the hall with a note for Dermot Fletcher, Robert returned to the parlor to find his father-in-law pacing the rug in front of the fire, his hands joined behind his back.
“The cheek of the fellow! How dare he come into my wife’s parlor demanding money?”
Robert leaned back against the door and regarded the rector steadily.
“Perhaps he needs to feed his family?”
“I meant to pay him! It’s a paltry sum, and it just slipped my mind. He could’ve waited until the next bill was due and written me a letter, but no, he had to turn up here and insult me.”
“He was hardly insulting, sir,” Robert said quietly. “In truth, he was mortally embarrassed to have to raise the matter with you at all.”
“Well, so he should be,” the rector sniffed. “As I will no longer be a customer of his, I can tell you that.”
“But, Father, you have always told me that he is the best miller around,” Lucy interjected, her worried gaze going between Robert, Rose, and her father. “And—”
“I did not ask for your opinion on this matter, Daughter.” Lucy’s father cut across her. “May I suggest you concentrate on managing your own household and leave mine alone?”
He stormed out of the parlor, slamming the door behind him.
Lucy’s mouth snapped shut, and Robert instinctively moved toward her.
“Perhaps it is time for us to leave as well, Lucy.”
Rose put her hand on his arm. “There is no need for that, my dears. When Ambrose calms down he will realize that no one is holding him at fault here. We all realize that he has many obligations both pastoral and spiritual to occupy his time and can be forgiven for forgetting a tradesman’s bill.” She paused to resume her seat. “Maybe I should have made sure that the bill was paid on time.”
Lucy sniffed, her chin held high. “It is good of you to take the blame for my father, ma’am, but as I know all too well, he has always insisted on controlling the family finances himself.”
“I’m sure your father and Rose will sort this matter out in their own way, my love.” Robert took hold of Lucy’s elbow and gently squeezed. “Perhaps we should be on our way.”
He smiled at his aunt. “Thank you for the tea.”
Keeping a firm grip on his wife’s arm, he headed for the door, only to stop again when it was flung open and another unexpected visitor marched into the parlor.
“There you are, Mama!”
Lucy’s fingernails dug into the nap of his coat as Henrietta, Lady Northam, Rose’s eldest daughter from her first marriage, swept into the room and gave them all a haughty stare. She was a handsome woman whose expression was often marred by a scowl. She wore a bonnet with such tall feathers that she looked six feet tall, and an elaborate embroidered pelisse that was most unsuitable for the countryside.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Rose asked.
“Am I not welcome?” Henrietta’s smile turned glacial. “In my own mother’s house?”
“Of course you are,” Rose hastened to say. “But one usually writes a letter to let one’s mother know of one’s intention to visit.”
“I did write. Did you not receive it?” Henrietta asked, which was such an obvious falsehood that even Robert noticed. “Perhaps the letter went astray?”
“If you had written to me, I would’ve told you that this is not a good time to visit.” Rose raised her voice slightly. She was generally an even-tempered woman but not one to be bullied in her own home. “We are having a christening for Robert and Lucy’s newest child, and the house is full to bursting.”
“And you didn’t think to invite me?” Henrietta pressed a hand to her bosom. “I am quite distraught, Mama.”
Lucy cleared her throat. “I did send you an invitation, Henrietta, but as I received no reply, I assumed you had a prior engagement.”
Henrietta turned her attention toward Lucy. “I didn’t receive an invitation, and to be perfectly honest, I doubt you considered sending me one.”
As Lucy bristled, it was Robert’s turn to speak up. “I can assure you that one was sent, Henrietta. My wife is extremely efficient in such matters. One has to wonder whether your own secretary is half as competent?”
Rose stood, her color heightened. “This is all neither here nor there. We don’t have room to accommodate you, Henrietta. If you wish to remain in Kurland St. Mary, then you can stay at the Queen’s Head, or return to London and pay me a proper visit in a week or so when we will have more time together.”
“I am aghast at your unfeeling nature, Mama. Living here with these people has changed you, and not for the better!” Henrietta produced a lace handkerchief and dabbed extravagantly at her eyes. “I cannot believe you are speaking to me in such a dismissive way after all I’ve done for you.”
Robert raised his eyebrows and glanced at his aunt, who looked stricken. Henrietta had married an awful man and had merrily used her mother as a bank for her expenses and his debts for years.
He dropped Lucy’s arm and stepped in between the mother and daughter.
“If you wish to stay the night at Kurland Hall, Cousin, you are most welcome. Then we can send you on your way back to London in the morning, refreshed.”
He didn’t need to look at his wife to guess she was glaring at him. Lucy had no love for Henrietta and was very protective of Rose. But what else could he do? He couldn’t allow his cousin to stay at the Queen’s Head, which, although an excellent hostelry, was hardly fit for a female member of the peerage traveling alone.
“Well, thank you for that at least, Robert!” Henrietta appeared to have forgotten she was supposed to be weeping. “It’s nice to know that the Kurland family has some standards, unlike my own mother.”
“Please, stop . . .” Rose passed an unsteady hand over her face and crumpled to the floor in an apparent swoon.
Henrietta screamed as Lucy and Robert ran forward to help.
“Her smelling salts are in her work basket,” Lucy told Robert as she propped her patient up against the chair. “Can you find them?”
Even as Robert delved beneath her embroidery, found the crystal container, and handed it to Lucy, Rose was already coming out of her swoon. She reached out an impulsive hand.
“My goodness! I do apologize. I must have risen too quickly.”
“It’s all right. Just stay still for a moment before we help you back onto your chair. Robert? Can you call for Rose’s maid?” Lucy uncapped the bottle and waved it under Rose’s nose until she shuddered. She shot a furious glance back toward Henrietta, who had not moved from the same spot. “Please don’t worry, Rose. Sometimes people can say the most upsetting things.”
“What’s going on?” The rector came back into the parlor, his gaze immediately going to his wife. “Are you well, my dear?”
Robert’s attention was diverted from his father-in-law to the man who strolled in behind him. Leaving his wife to deal with Rose and her father, he walked over to Basil, now Lord Northam, who had recently inherited his father’s title. He was a dark-haired man with light hazel eyes and a charming smile that belied his truly avaricious nature.
“I didn’t realize your husband had accompanied you, Henrietta,” Robert said. “I’m sure he is perfectly capable of escorting you back to London without the necessity of you staying the night at Kurland Hall.”
Northam smiled at him and murmured. “Kurland, how delightful. I understand you have a new daughter. No wonder you were seeking the charms of London earlier this year while your wife was busy with her home and increasing family.”
Robert didn’t deign to reply to that deliberately provocative comment. He already knew Northam was the kind of man who thought adultery was common to all men simply because he practiced it so frequently. He’d also been privy to the generous marriage settlement Rose had given Henrietta, which had all been spent. He had no love for those who leeched off people he cared about.
The rector conferred briefly with Rose, who was reestablished in her chair, before placing his hand on her shoulder as she faced the room.
“This is not quite how I envisioned sharing my news, but perhaps it is time,” Rose began. “Ambrose and I are somewhat surprised, but delighted to announce that I am pregnant.”
“What?” Henrietta shrieked loud enough to make Robert wince. “How can that be so? You’re both old, and that’s . . . disgusting, and wrong, and—”
She stopped speaking with a gasp as Northam grabbed her arm. Her husband regarded the rector, his expression icy.
“I do hope you don’t expect us to congratulate you on your obvious attempt to control your wife’s fortune.”
“I, I beg your pardon?” the rector stuttered. “This is God’s will, not mine, and we are both thrilled.” He patted Rose’s . . .
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
