The Secret of Hollyfield House by Jude Bayton (first ebook reader TXT) 📕

Who were they talking about? It had to be Marabelle.

“If she told anybody, I will be suspected.” His voice sounded worried.

“Oh, honestly, Marik. Why must you always be so eaten up with fright? The woman had no friends and seldom spoke to anyone other than the servants. If she had said anything to Father, we would know by now. And you have done nothing. Indeed, the only person responsible for Marabelle’s death is Marabelle herself. So please, pull yourself together. No more of this drama. It gives me the headache.”

“I am sorry, Evie.” Marik went to her and gave her a brief hug before stepping back. “I do not mean to be so aggravating. You know how I worry for Perry. I do not want any kind of trouble.”

“Everything will be fine. Come along. Perry will be looking for us.”

I stayed still while they walked in the direction of the house. It was devious to eavesdrop, yet I had been riveted to every word. The conversation was unclear, other than Marik’s worry about himself, or Perry being connected to Marabelle’s demise. But why should he be concerned? And what did they mean about ‘her keeping quiet’? They obviously referred to Marabelle.

I turned back toward the village and home, an unhappy witness to something I did not understand. I was anxious to escape the proximity of Hollyfield. But as I walked back by the boathouse, an eerie feeling passed through me, and I turned expecting to see someone there. There was not. I was alone, or at least I seemed to be. But it was not until I reached Lake Road that I finally shook the sensation that I had been watched.

I COULD NOT WAIT TO TALK TO Dominic. I would check to see if he was home on my way back to the village. I walked briskly away from the lake towards the farm, my mind spinning like a top. A mental jigsaw lay before me and its edges were linked into a square. Now I sought to fill in the middle of the puzzle, have various parts put together so I could form one piece. This analogy seemed to help me straighten out my thoughts.

I approached the farm and saw a beautiful jet-black horse tethered outside the farmhouse. I was no judge of pedigree, but even to my untrained eye, I could tell it was a magnificent specimen of high breeding. As I neared, the steed whickered, and he turned with obsidian eyes to observe me. I reached him and gingerly held out a hand to pat his neck, then started as he turned to nuzzle his nose in my hand.

“What’s this? Do you mean to steal Cressidio’s affection away from me?” A friendly voice caused both the horse and I to turn. Victor LaVelle stepped closer, a smile upon his face, though he looked drained. Little wonder, he had a son in gaol and now a relative to bury.

“No, indeed,” I replied, dropping my hand. “But he is sublime, Mr LaVelle.”

Our eyes met, and he smiled kindly. “Call me Victor, my dear. We agreed there was to be no formality, remember?”

I nodded.

“Jillian, I am appalled that you had to witness the tragic event of last night.” His expression was dour, his voice quiet. “Marabelle was not well known by many, but she was a good person and very loyal to our family.” His sorrow-filled voice broke off. My heart went out to him for he could not disguise his pain.

“Victor, there is no need to say anything. I am just deeply sorry for your loss.” I gave him a weak smile of encouragement. “I am here to speak with Dominic regarding new information I have recently learned. Will you come back in so I can tell you together?” I moved towards the door.

His demeanour underwent a sudden change. His green eyes brightened, and his jaw clenched. “Of course.” He followed me inside.

Dominic was surprised to see his guest return, and I took some pleasure in his apparent delight at my being there also. He ushered us into the welcoming kitchen, and we automatically took our places around the table, much as we had done on my previous meeting with the two gentlemen.

“There is something I wish to share with you both, but in doing so, I break a confidence.” I could feel them tense in anticipation. I looked earnestly at each man’s face, uncomfortable with my dilemma. Lady Mountjoy was no friend, yet I felt allegiance to the woman regardless.

“I only do this because I want to help Billy in any way I can. But I must have your word neither one of you will breathe this to another soul.” I paused.

“Of course,” Victor answered promptly. “You have my promise.”

“Mine too.” Dominic’s eyes shone with what I thought was hope. My heart warmed, for he was such a good brother.

“This morning I had a visit from Louisa Mountjoy.” I recounted part of our conversation earlier in the day. I omitted many details and told the barest of facts. That Jareth was a blackmailer and most likely an ill-doer based on his reputation. They did not interrupt me and, when I finished speaking, they made not a sound. I assumed they digested the information as it related to the blacksmith’s murder.

Victor was the first to comment. “I take it you deduce Flynn was killed because of a propensity for blackmail?”

“Well, you must admit it is a viable theory, Victor. Especially if we consider that scrap of paper Billy found.”

“I agree with Jillian,” Dominic said. “Jareth did nurture a desire to better himself. We know he gambled, so it is feasible the man was capable of threatening trouble if he did not get paid.”

“All right,” Victor acknowledged. “That gives us a motive for a person to want him dead. Yet I believe Lady Mountjoy as likely as Billy to murder him in cold blood.”

“Yes,” I interjected. “But it stands to reason Louisa may not have been his only target