A Murderous Persuasion (A Jane Austen Tea Society Mystery, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 3: Jane Austen Tea Society Mysteries

Oliver, Katie

 
9780593337639: A Murderous Persuasion (A Jane Austen Tea Society Mystery, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593337638 ISBN 13: 9780593337639
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

Phaedra Brighton is on the case when an innocent murder-mystery weekend turns into the real deal, in the newest Jane Austen Tea Society Mystery.

Phaedra Brighton has her life all figured out—she has a profession she enjoys, a wonderful (if exasperating) cat, and a cozy carriage house on the grounds of her aunt's inn. She needs no Captain Wentworth to sweep her off her feet (though, she would not mind a Mr. Darcy).
 
But when Aunt Wendy decides she is selling Laurel Springs Inn, Phaedra faces losing her beloved home. In a last-ditch attempt to drum up more business, Phaedra convinces Wendy to host an immersive Persuasion-themed murder-mystery weekend. It is a fool proof plan to draw attention to the establishment in the hopes of saving it. 
 
Until make-believe becomes reality and one of the participants winds up dead. 
 
With more suspects than she knows what to do with, Phaedra finds herself on the hunt for a killer once again. But with time running out, Phaedra quickly realizes that with this investigation, there will be no second chances.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Katie Oliver is known internationally as a writer of Jane Austen rom-coms with a hint of mystery. In the U.S. and the U.K., she is the bestselling author of the Dating Mr. Darcy and Marrying Mr. Darcy series.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

One

It began, as so many unwelcome things do, with a loud banging on the door.

Phaedra Brighton swam up out of a beguiling dream, in which she and Mr. Darcy shared a picnic on the banks of the river Thames, and sat up abruptly in bed. The digital numerals on the alarm clock informed her it was eight a.m.

She tossed back the covers, sending her well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice tumbling to the floor with a thump and a flutter of pages, and bent down to retrieve the book.

Perhaps if she waited, her visitor would go away.

"Phaedra! I know you're in there. Open up!"

The banging resumed, and she realized the person on the other side of the carriage house door wasn't going away. She hurried down the stairs, leaving her cozy loft bedroom and dreams of Mr. Darcy behind.

She flung the front door open and regarded the slim woman with short, angular black hair. "Lucy?"

Lucy Liang, professor of post-modernist literature and her closest friend on the Somerset University faculty, brushed past Phaedra and unshouldered a backpack.

"The flea market," she said, answering Phaedra's unspoken question with the patience of a preschool teacher. "No classes until fall term. Freedom from academia until mid-August." She tossed the backpack on the sofa.

From his perch atop the back of the sofa, Wickham, Phaedra's Himalayan cat, regarded the backpack with blue-eyed disfavor. This was his domain, where he kept vigil over the driveway and front lawn and monitored the red-and-blue flash of blue jays and cardinals winging by.

Phaedra headed for the kitchen. Her hair, woven into a dark gold braid down her back, was coming loose, and her dream of Darcy and the sumptuous picnic they'd shared began to evaporate. She needed a bracing cup of Keemun, stat. "Tea?" she inquired.

"Coffee, please. How could you forget?"

"That you prefer coffee?"

"That we had plans. And what is that you're wearing?" Lucy slid onto a seat at the kitchen island.

Phaedra glanced at her long, flower-sprigged nightgown. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, if you're Catherine Morland, traipsing around Northanger Abbey with a guttering candlestick and a pounding heart."

"It got chilly last night." Phaedra filled the teakettle and the coffee maker with water. "And the only pounding was you, banging on my door."

"Then grab another blanket," she pointed out. "Or better yet, a male. Both work wonders to keep a girl warm."

Phaedra didn't bother to correct her. Lucy knew her feelings on that matter. Instead, she filled the basket with fresh-ground beans and started the coffee maker. "Why are we going to the flea market? And so early? Remind me."

"Because your aunt's threatening yet again to put the Laurel Springs Inn up for sale," Lucy reminded her, "and you convinced her to hold off-"

"By promising to host a Jane Austen Murder Mystery week at the inn next month." Phaedra groaned as it all came back to her in a rush.

A great, big, what was I thinking of rush.

Yesterday morning, she'd seen a real estate sign planted in front of her aunt Wendy's bed-and-breakfast, the Laurel Springs Inn.

FOR SALE.

HISTORIC BED-AND-BREAKFAST.

OFFERED BY BERKSHIRE HADLEY.

BY APPOINTMENT ONLY.

She'd rushed across the lawn separating the carriage house from the inn, a Queen Anne whimsy bristling with turrets and gables and elaborate gingerbread trim, and marched up the wide wooden steps to the porch.

Inside, the front desk was empty. She glanced past the ornate 1920s brass counter bell and the numbered cubbies where room keys and telegrams were once tucked away, and faced the staircase that divided the first floor.

"Aunt Wendy?"

The door at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen swooshed open, releasing the smell of burnt toast and a string of French invective as Chef Armand scolded a server for some unknown infraction. A teakettle began to shriek.

"Someone, please take that kettle off the stove!" Wendy Prescott snapped. "Before you burn the place down."

The shrieking abruptly stopped.

The door whooshed shut, restoring quiet as Phaedra's aunt approached the lobby. She paused as she caught sight of her niece. Normally groomed to the nines in elegant but comfortable clothes and bright cherry-red lipstick, Wendy looked fashionable but frazzled. She tucked a strand of hair, recently cut and streaked with caramel highlights, behind one ear and gathered her niece into a hug.

"You saw the sign." Wendy drew back. Her hand strayed to the chunky necklace encircling her throat. "I wanted to talk to you first, but . . ."

"You can't sell the inn. Tell me you're not serious."

"I'm afraid I am." Glancing back at the kitchen door, her aunt took Phaedra's arm. "Let's go in the front parlor. We can talk privately there."

". . . and that's the long and the short of it," she finished a short time later. "Business is down and so are profits. We've limped along for six months, but I can't keep this place going at a loss any longer."

"But selling?" Phaedra leaned forward on the sofa. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't. I've cut staff, sourced cheaper produce, taken out ads . . . it's not enough. I know how much this place means to you, but I'm out of options. I'm sorry."

"What about hosting seasonal events?" Phaedra, grasping at any straw, suggested. "Like the Spring Fling open house at the Poison Pen."

Every spring, her father's bookstore sponsored a week's worth of book giveaways, guest authors, contests, and prizes, along with plenty of free nibbles.

"I run a B and B," her aunt said. "Not a bookstore."

"The principle is the same. You could host a . . . a Halloween-themed masquerade party, for example, or a Titanic tea. Or . . ." She thought of the pile of cozy mysteries on her bedside table. "A murder mystery week!"

Her aunt sniffed. "A gimmick, you mean."

"Call it what you want, but special events appeal to guests." Phaedra eyed the pocket doors separating the front parlor from the back. "We could throw a 1920s dinner dance." She warmed to the idea. "Flappers and gangsters, bathtub gin, everyone doing the Charleston and swigging champagne-"

"Spilling booze and cigarette ash all over my Persian rugs?" Wendy shook her head firmly. "No, thank you."

"Okay." A thoughtful expression settled over Phaedra's face. "What about something a little more elegant?"

"Such as?"

"Such as," she mused, "a Jane Austen immersive event."

"And what's that, exactly?"

"Just what it sounds like. Guests immerse themselves in the Regency period and leave their cell phones behind. They'll dress in period costumes, play card games, discuss Austen's novels, drink tea, dance, and stroll through the rose garden."

"Sounds dull. And the rose garden needs pruning." Wendy frowned. "What would people do? Besides drink tea and wander around in long dresses?"

"We'll have archery on the back lawn," Phaedra said, warming to the idea, "and tea in the dining room, with tea cakes and sandwiches. And maybe an Austen quiz, with a prize for the winner."

"What sort of prize? I can't afford more than a box of notecards at this point."

"And to make it even more fun," Phaedra rushed on, "what if we sponsor a murder mystery week?" She leaned forward. "Jane Austen inspired, of course. With a staged murder, a victim, and suspects. We could do a Persuasion theme," she mused. "With each guest assuming the role of a character in the novel. Whoever solves the murder first wins a prize."

"You keep saying 'we,'" Wendy said. "I hate to throw water on the fire, but who's paying for all this? Who's arranging the costume rentals and hiring actors to take part in...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593337638
ISBN 13 
9780593337639
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
320
Kontakt zum Hersteller
preigu GmbH & Co. KG
mail@preigu.de

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