Murder in Masquerade (A Lady of Letters Mystery, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 4: Lady of Letters Mysteries

Winters, Mary

 
9780593548783: Murder in Masquerade (A Lady of Letters Mystery, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593548787 ISBN 13: 9780593548783
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

Extra, extra, read all about it! Countess turned advice columnist Amelia Amesbury finds herself playing the role of sleuth when a night at the theatre turns deadly.

Victorian Countess Amelia Amesbury’s secret hobby, writing an advice column for a London penny paper, has gotten her into hot water before. After all, Amelia will do whatever it takes to help a reader in need. But now, handsome marquis Simon Bainbridge desperately requires her assistance. His beloved younger sister, Marielle, has written Amelia's Lady Agony column seeking advice on her plans to elope with a man her family does not approve of. Determined to save his sister from a scoundrel and the family from scandal, Simon asks Amelia to dissuade Marielle from the ill-advised gambit.

But when the scoundrel makes an untimely exit after a performance of Verdi’s Rigoletto, Amelia realizes there’s much more at stake than saving a young woman’s reputation from ruin. It’s going to take more than her letter-writing skills to help the dashing marquis, mend the familial bond, and find the murderer. Luckily, solving problems is her specialty!

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Mary Winters is the author of a number of cozy mystery series (as Mary Angela). When not penning heartwarming whodunits, Mary lives in South Dakota with her family, where she teaches writing.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1

Dear Lady Agony,

I'm very much in love with a man my father will never consent to. His opinions on marriage are quite strict, for ours is an important family. But my heart is mine alone to give. I will not marry a man I do not love. Therefore, we must depart for Gretna Green at once. I see no other alternative. Do you?

Devotedly,

Going to Gretna Green

Dear Going to Gretna Green,

The words Gretna Green evoke an image of a clandestine excursion through verdant fields ending in eternal happiness. But I daresay it is a false image and one that has ruined many girls' chances for a good life. Running away never solves problems; it only creates more. You state that the man you love is undesirable to your family. Have you asked yourself why they resist the match? Sometimes those closest to us see that which we cannot. In your case, you must try to discover the reasons, for departing to Gretna Green would be disastrous. The journey is perilous, and even if you make it, a three-week waiting period must pass before the ceremony is allowed. By then your reputation will be in tatters. My stringent advice is do not go.

Yours in Secret,

Lady Agony

Amelia reread her advice to Marielle, Simon Bainbridge's sister, which Amelia had sent to the magazine under the guise of Lady Agony. The response had been printed. All that was to be done was wait and see if the advice would be taken.

Amelia leaned back in her well-used desk chair. The library was alight with cheery afternoon sun, and if she focused on the miniature rainbows it reflected off the cordial glasses on the corner table, she could almost pretend a girl's future didn't hang in the balance. Not just any girl's, she reminded herself. Simon's sister.

For the past week, Simon had circled her house like a shark waiting for food. She was his keeper and her advice his meal. He was adamant that his sister not run away with their onetime stable manager George Davies, who, according to him, was a no-good gambler and social climber. Unfortunately, fervor rarely guaranteed success. Sometimes it ensured the opposite. Now that the letter was printed, Simon's attention had turned to Marielle, whom he was observing for any signs of departure. Tonight, for instance, Mr. Davies had invited Marielle to attend the opera with him in the box of the esteemed Lord and Lady Burton, so of course, Amelia and Simon were attending also. Simon had informed her of their plans no less than twenty-four hours ago. His exact words were, "We'll be attending Rigoletto tomorrow. Don't wear black."

Amelia glanced at her light-colored dress, lingering over the dusky rose color, and smiled. She cared not a whit for fashion, but wearing colors again was nice. It felt like an age since she'd worn mourning, yet it'd been only a month. For over two years, she'd kept to black and gray out of respect for her deceased husband, Edgar, Earl of Amesbury, to whom she'd been married for just two months when he passed. But in those two months, they were closer than any patient and nurse could have been. His degenerative disease moved quickly, making him reliant on her for his care and everything else, and she learned more about life in those few precious, daunting months than in her previous years combined. Although she was only five and twenty, she was more mature than her age belied, having seen a lifetime pass before her eyes.

Edgar was gone, but she wasn't alone. In his absence, he'd entrusted her to the sizable Amesbury fortune, his dear niece Winifred, and his formidable Aunt Tabitha. Of the three, only the last gave her trouble.

Amelia's eyes turned upward to the second floor of the library, where the punctuated sounds of Tabitha's cane went tap, tap, tap. Leatherbound histories of the Norman Conquest vibrated gently in the cherrywood bookshelves. Someone had made a blunder, and for once it wasn't Amelia. Her lips twisted into a smile as she imagined the misstep of the butler or perhaps Tabitha's cherished lady's maid, Patty Addington. No. Tabitha and Mrs. Addington were of one mind. They rarely disagreed.

The smile dropped from Amelia's lips as she heard the cane thumping down the steps: one, two, three. Drat. Maybe she had done something wrong, but what? As the stomps grew closer, she understood she was about to find out. She shut the paper and stood from her desk. No one-especially not Tabitha Amesbury-could find out about her secret pseudonym. Only Simon; her best friend, Kitty Hamsted; and her editor, Grady Armstrong, knew of her clandestine occupation, and she must keep it that way.

With cheap paper and low postage, the magazine was becoming ever more popular, and the advice of Lady Agony was in high demand. Grady said the magazine's circulation was nearing 500,000, and Amelia believed it. She answered letters every day just to keep up with the weekly print, forgoing some letters for others. Costumes, manners, relationships-they covered the bulk of inquiries. But increasingly, readers asked about her life. Who was she, and why was a lady (a countess, if they knew her real identity) answering letters in a penny weekly? God willing, no one would ever find out.

With a hard push, the door flew open, and Tabitha stood like Nike, the goddess of victory, but instead of holding a crown for victory, she brandished a cane. She wore stiff gray, out of respect for her dearly departed nephew, Edgar. On her, however, the color appeared lavender, perhaps because of her crystal blue eyes, for which the Amesburys were known. Her high cheekbones, another familial attribute, were flushed with exertion or irritation. Amelia was about to find out which.

"Something is afoot," declared Tabitha.

"The three best words in the English language." With a smile, Amelia met her in the middle of the room.

Tabitha dipped her head ever so slightly, but her height was untrimmed. She towered several inches over Amelia. "No, Amelia, they are not the three best words in the English language. Winifred is keeping something from me, and I want to know what."

Amelia gestured to the green leather couch.

Tabitha took the striped chair.

"Winifred doesn't keep secrets." Amelia heard the edge in her own words. Although there was no blood relation, she thought of Winifred as her own daughter, and her ire rose like a mother hen's at the accusation.

Tabitha crossed her hands over her cane. Whatever weakness her arthritis caused was compensated by a strong upper body and perfect posture. "Correction. Winifred did not use to keep secrets. Winifred is almost eleven. Children change."

Amelia had noticed some changes of late. Winifred was spending less time in the nursery and taking more interest in the opposite sex. Which was to say, tittering whenever she passed the neighbor boy in the street. "Continue," said Amelia, sliding back into the plush leather cushions of the couch.

Now that Tabitha had her ear, she leaned into her cane. "Several times I've come across Winifred, and she stops whatever it is she's doing. Hiding something. I cannot make it out."

"Maybe it's private." Amelia stressed the word, knowing Tabitha understood no boundaries when it came to family. She was the eldest and most Amesbury of the Amesburys. She took the job quite seriously.

Tabitha's crystal blue eyes turned to frost. "She is a child. Nothing is private."

"But you said times are changing."

"I said children change-and I don't approve of this change." Her cane punctuated the words I don't approve. "As her mother, you must see to it."

Despite Tabitha's irritation, Amelia basked in the comment. Even Tabitha recognized her as Winifred's surrogate parent. That meant she was doing something right. Truth be told, neither she nor Tabitha had parenting experience. Tabitha hadn't married, and the closest...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2024
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593548787
ISBN 13 
9780593548783
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
336
Kontakt zum Hersteller
BERKLEY
https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY

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