Beatrice: An Alarming Tale of British Murder and Woe by Tedd Hawks (the reading list book .TXT) 📕

and saw thateveryone had registered dramatic changes in appearance since the arrival. Brontë’sgaze was fixed on Robert, an expression of distaste not hidden on her beautifulface. August also looked disgusted, not with Robert, but rather with hismother-in-law and her labored greeting of the new guests. June’s eyes werefilled with worry, locked specifically on May, whose gaze was turned resolutelyon the flames dancing in the fireplace. Only Kordelia appeared unaffected, hermouth moving slightly as she continued to review lines from her script.

            “Sorryve are late,” Robert said. “This storm! From novhere it seems.” Crockettcringed at the way Robert’s nose and jowls flapped as he spoke.

            “Iwalked,” May said abruptly. “I got caught in the rain and had to run.”

            “Mycarriage came up behind my dear cousin, but she refused ze offered ride.”

            “Idon’t trust him,” May said looking at Corinthiana. “Mother, you know how I feelabout you including him in all this.”

            Corinthianaclasped her hands. “It is best not tooo bring it up. Robert is paaart of theeefaaamily.”

            “Speaking of, Corinthiana,”August stood and moved to the center of the room, “let’s get going with thewill. Tensions are palpable, and I don’t know if it’s going to be…” hismustache twitched uncomfortably, “pleasant to keep all of us together.”

            “Augusthas a point,” June said. “Now that we’re all present, we should take care ofthe messy bits quickly.”

            Alleyes were on Corinthiana, who had grown so nervous she had plunged her handinto Beatrice’s bowl and begun stroking the fish erratically. Even under herpowdered complexion, Crockett detected a red flush.

            “Thisis aaabrupt and veeery uncivilized.” She coughed into her fist. “Weee caaan'tsimply reeead theee will when Robert aaand Maaay haaave only aaarrived. It’s uncoooth.Whaaat would your deeear graaandfaaather saaay?”

            “He’dsay get on with it,” Brontë said with a laugh. “Grandmother, he’d be moreinterested in the service and all the attention he’s going to get. How manypeople are coming for it? I assume everyone in West Hampminstershireshire isaware.”

            “Well,”Corinthiana’s voice grew shrill, “yes. Of course.” Beatrice, sensing her humanmother's agitation, began to thrash in her hand.

            Silencefell. June turned, her skirt rustling. “Mother, you have contacted the vicarand sent on the information about the service, haven’t you? It was supposed tobe done last Sunday when we went to church.”

            Corinthianagrew extremely uncomfortable. She emitted several unintelligible sounds,adjacent in timbre to her awrks, but none that revealed any coherent thought.Her cheeks turned a fiery red and her jewels tinkled as she waved her hands inthe air, attempting to draw some excuse from the air around her.

            “Youhaven't…?” Robert asked quickly. “You haven't begun ze preparations? Ze tomb isn'topened…”

            Corinthianabegan to weep. Large tears plopped onto her gown and into Beatrice’s bowl. “I haaaven't!”she said quickly. “It is…” She wiped her eyes with a ringed finger. “It's, just…”

            “IfI may, Corinthiana?” Petrarch stepped forward.

            Corinthiana,her eyes flooded with relief, nodded.

            “Everyone,Corinthiana notified me that preparations are…delayed.” Petrarch put his handsbehind his back and rocked slowly on his feet. “She very much wants the funeraryservices to take place before the will is read—it’s a sense ofpropriety…respect. The arrangements were delayed due to some logisticalproblems, complications with the vicar and the arrival of the family, but weshould be able to move forward tomorrow, once the weather lightens. Crockettand I were going to go to the vicar this afternoon, but we were held up by theweather.”

            Crockettlooked suspiciously at Petrarch.

            “Yes,”Corinthiana said softly. “It's true. Very truuue.”

            “Butwe don’t want to delay you, even with this delightfully volcanic family dynamic,”Petrarch said, winking at Crockett. “Corinthiana, Crockett, and I are going todiscuss some final items in the will and get ready to move forward with the entombmentand services in the next few days.”

            May,August, and Robert appeared perturbed at the news but nodded in agreement. Brontëlooked amused. She put her finger to her mouth to suppress a smile.

            “Mother,”June said softly, “why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was goingto be delayed? I thought we were moving forward with the plan we established forthis weekend.”

            “Lether be, my dear,” Robert said warmly. “She has been zrough much.”

            Corinthianalooked to Robert with great affection.

            “Deathis the great discombobulator,” Kordelia said speaking up from her dark cornerof the room.

            “Itis, deeear,” Corinthiana said loudly. “But weee shaaall get baaack on traaack.Petraaarch!” she barked at the old man. “We haaave much tooo discuss. Up to theeestudy!”

Chapter 5: Lucinda’s Last Words

            Corinthianasent Crockett and Petrarch to the second floor so she could take time to re-powderher nose. The two men sat in large leather chairs in the study; Crockett, armscrossed, looked at Petrarch with an expression of deep annoyance.

            “Ijust wish you had told me,” he said quietly. “I thought the family knew of thedelays but not about the money. I didn’t know we were co-conspirators.”

            “Ididn’t either, my boy. Corinthiana caught me before May and Robert arrived.This is a bit of a mess—an old-fashioned kerfuffle.” Petrarch patted his belly.“Corinthiana hasn’t told anyone anything. She’s trapped in a number of escalatinglies.”

            “Canit move forward? We shouldn’t be helping her negotiate these family problems.”

            Atthat moment, Corinthiana entered the room. Grandiosely, she spun and shut thedoor, then marched, dramatically, across the room to the large oak desk whichsat near the far west wall. Crockett sighed as he watched the old woman stepwith overpronounced elegance to her seat. She didn’t fully sit down until shehad pulled out the seat and assumed a pose of grief, hand to her forehead, eyesscrewed shut and lifted to the ceiling.

            “Itis a mess,” she said slowly.

            “Itwould appear so, Madame,” Petrarch said.

            “Ilied to you, Petrarch.” In the confines of the study, Corinthiana’stheatricality shed like the skin of a snake. Her vowels compressed, shrunk tonormal. Her regal pose evaporated as she slumped into her seat. Suddenly,Crockett clearly saw the farm girl, Lizzie Crankship, that Bixby Hawsfeffermarried all those years before. He heard her country lilt re-enter the relaxedtones of her voice.

            “Iknow.” Petrarch sighed.

            “Manytimes.”

            “Yes.”

            “So,”Crockett said slowly, “can we hear the truth now? All of