Murder by Midnight Read online

  “Me?” I asked, shoulders sagging. “He hardly knows me.”

  “Which I think may work in your favor,” he said. “Plus, you are a beautiful woman. Gordon would never admit it, but much like his brother, he has a soft spot for beauty. He may be surly, but I suspect you would be able to get some information out of him.”

  I wanted to argue, but it seemed pointless. I didn’t have anyone else I could trust, and if Sherborne couldn’t get the answers, then I would have to. I sighed. “Fine. I will speak with Gordon, but I would like for you to try and figure out what is missing from Alastair’s room. The police wouldn’t say, but I’m sure the Drummonds know what it is.”

  “Ask Gordon,” he said.

  “I will, obviously, but he may not answer me. And even if he does, it would be good to hear it from two different sources. Easier to verify that way.”

  Sherborne clicked his heels together and lifted a flat hand to his brow, saluting me. “Aye.”

  “Put your hand down,” I hissed, glancing around to be sure no one saw.

  Sherborne lowered his hand and shrugged. “I have my orders. Go do what you need to do.”

  Feeling less and less confident with every second, I walked away from Sherborne Sharp, praying he was not as incompetent as he appeared.

  Gordon didn’t look at me as I walked towards him, but I could tell by the shift in his posture that he knew I was coming.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.

  He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Thank you.”

  “I know we discussed my feelings about Alastair yesterday, but I hope you know those were purely about any romantic involvement with him.” I could feel my cheeks flushing, embarrassed at having to discuss this at all. “Beyond what little time I spent with him, I didn’t know him well enough to make any judgment of him, though he seemed very kind.”

  Gordon nodded, his chin jutting out, and then he turned to face me, pressing his back against the doorframe. “Are you attempting to inform me you did not have cause to murder my brother?”

  My mouth hung open for a moment, as I was too startled to come up with a response. When I did, it was stammered and nervous. “That was not—My intention in coming over here was to…to offer my condolences.”

  “Which you have done,” Gordon said, giving me a tight, dismissive smile.

  I shifted my feet and folded my hands behind my back, trying not to look half as uncomfortable as I felt. “I wondered if you wouldn’t be looking for someone to talk with. I’m sure this has all been very overwhelming for you and your family, and I just wanted to offer you my ear should you need it.”

  “Is that what you were doing this morning?” Gordon pushed away from the doorframe and stood tall, towering over me. I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Were you lurking outside of the library and listening to a private conversation because you thought I might be in need of companionship?”

  Heat rolled down my neck and back as shame gripped me. Still, I lifted my chin and met his accusation head on. “Accidentally overhearing a loud conversation as I passed by a room can hardly be called eavesdropping.”

  “Were you passing by?” he asked. “It seemed to me you were rather stationary.”

  There was no sense in denying the obvious. Clearly, Gordon knew I’d been listening in on his conversation, and if I had any chance of him being honest with me, then I would have to be honest with him and admit that.

  “And it seemed to me,” I said, taking a step toward him, voice low, “that you were involved in a very heated debate only hours after the murder of your brother. Excuse me for being worried about your safety.”

  In actuality, Gordon’s safety was not my primary motivator, but it wasn’t vital that he know that.

  He raised his right eyebrow, suspicious, and I looked away towards the rest of the guests in the sitting room. No one seemed to be paying us any attention. Everyone was so concerned with themselves and how this was affecting them that they couldn’t see beyond that. Perhaps, that distraction could be used to my benefit over the next several days.

  “Do you truly expect me to believe my safety was your main concern?” he asked. “Before yesterday, we did not even know one another. What could I have done in such a short amount of time to earn such high regard?”

  “You sounded adamant that you had caught your brother’s murderer, and if so, I did not want you to find the same fate. That seems like common decency to me.”

  “Do you expect me to thank you?” he asked.

  “Do you expect me to apologize?” I challenged. “Because I will not. I did nothing wrong. According to you, it is Samuel Rigby who has done something. Have you told the police of your suspicions? It is unsafe to let the man roam free if you believe—”

  “My suspicions are my own business,” Gordon interrupted, clenching his jaw. “And again, I do not believe your eavesdropping had anything to do with my safety or anyone else’s.”

  “You think so little of yourself?” I asked. “You don’t think it could be possible that anyone would be worried about you?”

  “It is possible,” he said. “But given the other evidence, I doubt concern for me was the driving force that led you to stand outside the library door.”

  “Evidence?” I asked, forehead wrinkled. “What are you referring to?”

  He folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I’m simply referring to the facts: you did not want to be at the castle this weekend, you made it known you had no interest in Alastair, and you were the first person out of the entire house to find his body. All of that, paired with the fact that I found you lurking outside of a room listening to my conversation, points to the possibility that you could somehow be involved.”

  “Involved in your brother’s murder?” I asked, eyes wide. “Tell me you aren’t serious.”

  “Tell me you were truly eavesdropping on my conversation out of concern for me,” he challenged.

  “On what grounds do you suggest otherwise?” I snapped.

  “How firmly was your mother trying to force you and my brother together?” he asked. “A desire to make your own love match could be more than enough reason to—”

  “To murder someone?” I shook my head in disgust. “If you think that is cause for murder then perhaps the police should look more closely at you.”

  His eyes flared with anger, and I wanted to apologize as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but I couldn’t. My pride wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I clenched my fists and narrowed my eyes.

  “I charged you with underestimating people’s affection for you and concern for your wellbeing, but perhaps I was the one who made an incorrect estimation. With every opportunity I have to know you better, I find myself less interested in the man I find.”

  “Be that as it may,” Gordon said, leaning back against the doorframe and looking into the sitting room. “My accusation stands.”

  “As does mine,” I said before turning on my heel and taking the stairs to the next floor two at a time, leaving Gordon behind.

  11

  Just as I reached the top of the stairs, my mother came out of Lady Drummond’s room. Her face was red and splotched, her eyes swollen. When she saw me, she dabbed at her eyes and smiled.

  “Oh, Alice. You didn’t need to come check on me.”

  I decided not to tell her that hadn’t been my intention at all. “How are the Drummonds doing?”

  “As well as can be expected,” she said. “I actually only came out to send for some tea. They haven’t had anything to eat or drink all morning.”

  “You stay,” I said, turning back towards the stairs. “I’ll go down to the kitchen.”

  “I would be happy to go to the kitchen for you,” said an unexpected voice.

  I turned to see a red-haired maid standing in the middle of the hallway, her arms full of white sheets. “I just need to drop this in with the laundry first.”

  Her voice w
as thick and raw, and I recognized her as the young maid from the kitchens, the one who had been so distraught. I tried to remember her name and thought I had heard her called Hester at some point.

  “That would be wonderful,” my mother said.

  “And maybe bring up something small to eat,” I said as the maid passed. “Some toast, perhaps.”

  She looked up and nodded, her green eyes red-rimmed. “Of course, Miss Beckingham.”

  “Thank you, Hester.”

  When I said her name, she stiffened slightly, but then carried on down the stairs.

  “Well, I suppose—” I started, taking a step towards my room.

  “I’m sure Lord and Lady Drummond would like to see you,” Mama said.

  “Oh, I’m not sure I’d be of much help,” I said. Though, I had just offered the same services to Gordon downstairs.

  My mother moved towards me, head low. “Surely you remember what it felt like to be in their situation, Alice. They are in need of distraction. Anything to pull their attention away from their loss for even a moment.”

  Unable to argue, I nodded and followed my mother into the room.

  The space was dark. No one had pulled the curtains open yet. Lady Drummond, wearing her dressing gown, was sitting in bed beneath the blankets, while her husband paced the room distractedly.

  “Eleanor?” Lady Drummond asked, turning towards the door.

  “I sent for tea,” my mother said, crossing the room and taking her friend’s hand. “And Alice is here with me.”

  Alastair’s mother closed her eyes and shook her head. “You two are so kind to us. I’m so glad to have met you.”

  “And I you,” my mother said.

  “I know Alastair would have grown to be very fond of you, too, Alice,” Lady Drummond said, turning her attention to me.

  The woman sitting before me looked twenty years older than the woman I’d met the day before. Her face was lined and creased, and her eyes drooped as though they were trying to drip down her face. Grief had taken a toll on her.

  “He was a very kind young man,” I said, wondering how many times I would be forced to pretend I knew anything about Alastair from the five minutes we’d spent together since my arrival.

  “He was,” Lady Ashton said, choking on a sob. “He was a good son, too. A very obedient boy, even as a small child. We only had to discipline him once before he would learn his lesson and mind. Even when he went off to school.”

  “We thought he might have been too young to go away to school,” Lord Drummond said, finally pausing in his pacing to join in on the conversation.

  He offered a small smile, but there was a wistfulness to it that let me know he was not happy in any real sense of the word. His eyes were foggy and distant, as if he was remembering a long ago memory. Which, I supposed, he was.

  “Yes, we were hesitant to send him,” Lady Drummond said. “But in the end, Alastair convinced us.”

  “As he often did,” Lord Drummond chuckled, pressing a knuckle to his lips.

  “He was ready to advance in his studies, so we allowed him to go.” Lady Drummond grabbed my mother’s hand and set it in her lap, clinging to it the way a child might cling to a blanket. “And you know? He wrote us every week. He sent letters, updating us on the young friends he was making and his experience. Even far away, he tried to stay near.”

  “It sounds like you were all very close,” my mother said.

  “Extremely,” Lord Drummond said heavily.

  Just then, the red-haired maid knocked on the door and came in with a tray of tea. She looked at the Drummonds only once before quickly ducking her head and going about her work.

  I could not blame here. I didn’t much want to share the space with them, either.

  “Thank you, Hester,” Lady Drummond said. As soon as the maid left the room, the door closing behind her, Lady Drummond pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Alastair was truly beloved. Even the servants are heartbroken at his loss.”

  “Yes, the poor girl did look distressed,” my mother said. “She is clearly mourning him.”

  “Well, I am not surprised,” Lord Drummond said. “Alastair had a keen eye for two things: pheasant shooting and pretty girls.”

  Lady Drummond laughed sadly and nodded her head to me. “That is proven by Alice being here. Alastair was saying just last night what a lovely girl you are, dear.”

  My face warmed at the attention, and I nodded, doing my best to look grateful.

  My mother stood up and fetched the tray from the table in the corner, carrying it to the side of the bed. “Won’t you two try and eat something? There’s fresh tea, as well as some toast.”

  “I couldn’t,” Lady Drummond said, laying a hand on her stomach and waving away the tray with the other. “I can’t imagine eating anything at all right now.”

  “It seems futile,” Lord Drummond said blankly, his eyes cold and staring at the wall ahead.

  “Don’t say that,” my mother said, brows pulled together in sympathy. “I know it seems daunting now, but you cannot give up.”

  Lady Drummond looked stricken for a moment, but then all at once, her face crumpled, and she was sobbing. Lord Drummond didn’t even rush over to comfort her.

  “How are we supposed to carry on?” Lady Drummond asked. Then, she sat up and grabbed my mother’s hands. “How did you do it, Eleanor? When Edward passed away, how did you cope?”

  I folded my hands behind my back and then brought them around to the front, unsure whether I was supposed to stay for this part of the conversation or not.

  “There aren’t any rules for this kind of pain,” my mother said, her voice growing thick with every word.

  I moved towards the door slowly, hoping not to attract too much attention.

  “The most important thing is to rely on one another,” she said, looking between the two Drummonds. “And on your family.”

  “Gordon,” Lady Drummond gasped. “I have been so distracted, I haven’t even looked in on him. He will be just as distressed as we are.”

  “I will send for him,” Lord Drummond assured her.

  My mother started to stand up, but I quickly jumped in. “I will find Gordon and send him up.”

  Lady Ashton’s face softened, her lower lip jutting out. “Thank you, Alice.”

  I smiled and slipped from the room gratefully.

  Not wanting to talk to Gordon again so soon after he pointed the finger at me for murdering his brother, I went down and asked one of the servants outside the kitchen to deliver the message to him that he was needed in his parents’ room. Then, I walked through the library and onto the terrace, taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

  It hadn’t even been a day since Alastair’s death and already I was feeling stifled. I couldn’t imagine how I would feel after several more days trapped in the castle.

  Hopefully the killer would be brought to justice quickly and it wouldn’t come to that.

  I tipped my head back and looked up at the sky. It was gloomy, the clouds heavy and gray, but the breeze was crisp. I folded my arms around my midsection, shivering.

  I’d only been back to my room for a few minutes since Alastair’s death. Just long enough to change into a simple dark blue skirt with a cream blouse. I’d been in such a rush to get away from the crime scene that I’d left my shawl in my room, and now I was wishing for it.

  I had half a mind to turn around and go fetch it, even knowing there was a risk I would be stopped by my mother and pulled into the Drummonds’ bedroom again, but then I saw Samuel Rigby sitting out on the lawn.

  Ignoring the scattered lawn furniture, he had his brown suit jacket spread out on the grass beneath him and was sitting on it with a book balanced on his knees. He didn’t appear to have noticed my presence and seemed very deep in thought. I didn’t know when the opportunity to speak to him alone would arise again. With all of the guests stuck in the house together, finding alone time was not likely to be easy.

  As I got
closer, I could see that Mr. Rigby was not reading a book but writing in a journal. His head was bent low, eyebrows furrowed and pulled together as his hand flew across the page. He was writing so quickly I almost felt guilty when the sound of my footsteps broke his concentration.

  He looked up, startled, and then his eyes focused on me.

  “Miss Alice.”

  He did not look either pleased or displeased to see me, which I considered a good sign.

  “Mr. Rigby.” I tipped my head slightly and then waved a hand towards the spot in the grass next to him. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  I could tell immediately he wanted to say no. Clearly, he had come outside to escape the rest of the guests in the castle. Still, he was too polite to say so and reluctantly invited me to sit. So, I did.

  “This trip has proven to be much more eventful than I planned for.”

  “Yes, indeed.” He nodded. “A terrible turn of events.”

  We sat quietly together, neither of us sure how to carry the conversation forward. So, I opted for directness.

  “I hope you can forgive me for overhearing your conversation this morning with Mr. Drummond.”

  Samuel lifted his eyebrows and nodded. “The door was open, so it wasn’t as though we took great measures to keep it private.”

  Again, he was far too polite to point out, the way Gordon had, that I was eavesdropping rather than simply overhearing something.

  “I was still fumbling through things after the excitement of the morning,” I said. “If I’d had my wits about me, I like to think I would have turned away once the conversation veered into personal matters. But as it was, I intruded upon your privacy and for that, I’m sorry.”

  Mr. Rigby smiled. “Forgiven, Miss Alice. Of course.”

  I smiled in return and tucked my legs to the side, folding my hands in my lap. “Though, Mr. Rigby, since I did overhear a bit of the conversation, I wondered if I could ask you a question?”