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

for blackmail. Consider, the man could have amassed large gambling debts. Perhaps there are others in the community who were victims to Jareth Flynn’s fleecing?”

“Jillian is right, Victor. I believe she is on to something.”

Victor nodded, and his brows furrowed in thought. “How on earth shall we go about looking for them? One cannot exactly raise the subject cold. Imagine asking the vicar if he had any sins worthy of being bribed for?”

We all smiled at that, and the tension slipped away.

“There must be a way to unearth Flynn’s antics,” Dominic said. “I can start by asking around about his gaming interests. If there are others who share his love of betting, you can be sure they will be happy to talk about it, especially if I offer a coin or two for the telling.”

“Excellent idea,” Victor concurred. “But take caution. You will encounter some rough fellows, I’ll be bound.” He rose from the table and searched in his pocket. Victor pulled out a small leather pouch and tossed it to Dominic, who snatched it from the air.

“Take this,” Victor gestured. “’Tis not much, but you will need to grease a few palms, and I do not want you using your own money. You need everything you have to keep the farm running for when Billy gets home.”

Dominic paused momentarily and then gave a resolute nod. There was no need for theatric displays of gratitude or even a perfunctory refusal.

“Right,” Victor continued. “I must leave. There is much to attend today, as you no doubt understand.”

His face fell, and for a moment I felt shame that in my haste to speak of Jareth Flynn’s propensity to blackmail, I had quickly forgotten the LaVelles were in mourning.

Dominic and I both rose to our feet.

“Victor. If there is anything I may do to help, you have only to say,” I said quietly.

He turned his handsome face to look at me, and I was struck by the depth of sorrow in his eyes. I watched him force a smile upon his mouth as he thanked me for the offer and then bade me farewell.

I remained in the kitchen while Dominic escorted him to the door.

When he returned, Dominic came to stand behind where I sat. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss upon the back of my neck.

I sighed. “I feel so badly for Victor,” I said quietly. “’Tis still difficult for me to take it in—and yet I saw her fall with my own eyes. I cannot imagine how the family must feel.”

He placed another affectionate kiss on top of my head. “It is a sad situation. I don’t believe I have ever seen Victor look this tired.” He returned to his place at the table.

“I feel sorry for him.” I swallowed. “Dominic, there is something else to tell you. I did not want to mention it in front of Victor.”

His golden eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

I described my visit to the boathouse and the conversation I overheard between Marik and Evergreen.

He frowned. “Why would Marik be worried about being considered a suspect? Surely no one would think he had anything to do with Marabelle falling off a balcony. It was an accident.”

“That is what everyone thinks, Dominic. Yet, if so, why did Evergreen mention her cousin potentially not keeping some kind of confidence? What could Marabelle know which would cause them worry? Think about it,” I insisted. “Marik does not strike me as someone easily scared. What I heard in his voice was most certainly fear.”

“What are you saying, Jillian? That Marik is worried because he has his own motive for wanting to be rid of Marabelle Pike?”

I nodded solemnly. “There can be no other reason for him to act that way. Marik must have something to hide. Something Marabelle knew and threatened to share.”

Chapter Nineteen

I HAD SPOKEN WITH DOMINIC EACH day since Marabelle’s untimely death. He had come to our house for tea, and on one occasion even stayed for dinner. It was uncanny how comfortably he slipped into our small family, as though he belonged there.

There was much to occupy my mind and be concerned about, yet I somehow managed to find moments of happiness whenever Dominic was around. A stolen kiss, a touch of his hand, a smouldering look from his lovely eyes. For that fraction of time, all the sorrow which seemed to have permeated into my life, would disappear.

Victor had not returned to visit Dominic, and we understood the family was preoccupied with Marabelle’s funeral and the procession of visiting relatives who passed through Hollyfield House. The burial would take place on the coming Wednesday, and I believed most people in the village planned to pay their respects.

It had been strange not seeing Evergreen. Other than my glimpse of her speaking with Marik, I had not set eyes upon her since the night of the lecture and Marabelle’s fall. I often thought of going to see her, but Uncle assured me it was better to give the family their privacy.

Dominic had set about questioning the men from the area regarding the blacksmith’s ‘hobby’, and little by little, was piecing together a better picture of Jareth Flynn and his questionable habits. That the man was a gambler was clearly an understatement. Flynn was known locally and about the Lake District as quite the ‘chancer’. His primary interest was in horse racing, and he was known to travel to the racecourse in Cartmel Village at least once every month. It was a half-day’s ride from Ambleside, and he usually spent a night or two there, depending upon the racing schedule.

Dominic decided it would be constructive to travel there himself and see what he might unearth. Therefore, on Saturday morning he left for Cartmel and would not return until the next day. I did not want him to go alone, but Dominic preferred not to wait for Victor to be available. He determined the quicker he left, the faster he could return. Victor was absorbed with preparations for