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Authors: Shelley Munro

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BOOK: Mistress of Merrivale
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A cough startled Jocelyn, her head jerking.

“Jocelyn,” Leo murmured, curling his arm around her waist. “Do you want to say something?”

She lifted her head to stare at the expectant vicar. “No. I-I can’t.”

Leo’s grip tightened momentarily before relaxing. “It’s all right,” he whispered against her hair, his warm breath a startling contrast to the chill in the air. “She knew how much you cared for her.”

Jocelyn sighed. If only that were true. Her mother—
no!
She couldn’t think these disloyal thoughts now. Her mother had loved her, despite her rejection toward the end.

The ceremony continued, and by the time the vicar finished, ice seeped deep into her bones. She shivered, despite her woolen shawl and Leo’s body heat. Finally, they walked away with the sound of clods of earth striking the coffin ringing in her ears. Jocelyn didn’t blame the gravediggers for their haste. No one with any sense would wish to linger on a day such as this.

Back at the manor, they peeled off their wet outerwear and entered the parlor to partake of tots of brandy for the men and hot, sweet tea for the ladies.

Jocelyn murmured a few words of thanks to the vicar before crossing the room to join Hannah. “Thank you for coming today.” It meant a lot to her when her own sisters hadn’t made an effort to attend. She had delayed the funeral for as long as possible, so they couldn’t make the length of the journey an excuse. Even Melburn had sent his regards and words of sympathy, but her two sisters remained silent.

Hannah shrugged, as if their presence was nothing, yet her cheek still bore the remnants of her mother’s attack. “We’re neighbors. This is what neighbors do in Dartmoor. I thought you had family in London. Could none of them attend today?”

“My sisters are both unable to travel at present,” Jocelyn said. “One is with child and the other has children who are unwell. They decided it was best not to attend the funeral.” More lies to hide her past. At least with her mother gone she could settle into something resembling a normal life—as long as her husband didn’t hang for murder.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Hannah frowned. “I understand the constable hasn’t discovered the person responsible for her death.”

“No.” Jocelyn still couldn’t understand how someone had gained entry without anyone hearing. “The constable has questioned everyone who was present that night.”

Peregrine joined them, wrinkling his nose when he caught the tail-end of the conversation. “Rumors are doing the rounds of the village. People are uneasy because they thought Leo—” He broke off in chagrin.

“I can imagine. I overheard stories about Leo possessing magical powers and being in league with the devil when I visited the bakery two days ago.” Jocelyn shook her head when she recalled the discussion, broken off abruptly when the ladies discovered her presence. “I don’t understand why people would think Leo was responsible when he was locked in jail. It’s ludicrous.”

“The situation has brought back memories of Ursula’s passing,” Hannah said abruptly. “People are afraid. It’s understandable.”

Jocelyn felt the pain in her and patted Hannah’s arm in silent comfort. Losing a family member was difficult, no matter what the circumstances.

“People like to gossip,” Peregrine agreed. “I’m not sure Hannah and I should even visit you. Merrivale is obviously a dangerous place.” His grin flashed, indicating a joke, albeit in poor taste.

“Peregrine,” Hannah chided her brother.

Jocelyn didn’t find him funny, nor did she think the rumors and gossip amusing. Leo hadn’t murdered Elizabeth. She couldn’t believe it of him, despite what the constable had implied when he’d questioned her. Leo had no reason to murder her mother, yet she couldn’t help the way apprehension nipped at her heels and stalked her dreams during the middle of the night. The truth was she didn’t know what she thought, her mind going one way and then the other in indecision.

“I think we should take Cassie back to Hartscombe with us,” Hannah said.

Jocelyn blinked, registering the words a few seconds later. “Why?”

“She’s not safe here,” Hannah said. “What is to stop the murderer returning and repeating his crime?”

“That’s enough, Hannah,” Leo said. “Cassie is perfectly safe here at Merrivale. Jocelyn has increased security. No harm will fall on Cassie.”

“I’m only trying to help,” Hannah muttered. “I would feel happier if you were here to oversee the security, but you’re not.”

“It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that I am not guilty of the crimes,” Leo snapped.

An uncomfortable silence fell, and Jocelyn could see the others were divided on the subject.

“Hannah, I want to thank you again for visiting today,” Jocelyn said, in an attempt to soothe ruffled feathers. “I appreciate you and Peregrine attending my mother’s funeral in this atrocious weather.”

“It’s nothing,” Hannah said, her sullenness falling away. “Peregrine, the rain has eased. Perhaps we should depart for home before our visitors arrive.”

“Of course you should be there to greet your guests.” Jocelyn forced a smile. “We’re running through the final details for the festival next week. Would you like to join us? We can always do with an extra pair of hands.”

“You’re not cancelling the event?” Peregrine asked.

“No, I felt that everyone has worked hard with the preparations. Mother was looking forward to the celebration, and I decided to continue with our plans.”

Hannah nodded slowly, pleasure suffusing her face. “Thank you. I’d like to help.”

Jocelyn gave both Hannah and Peregrine a swift hug. They said their goodbyes and departed in their carriage. It was the start of the exodus, and soon Leo and Jocelyn were alone with Cartwright.

“We need to leave too,” Cartwright said.

“Give us a few minutes?” Leo asked. “I’d like to escort Jocelyn to her chamber.”

“Five minutes,” Cartwright said after surveying his pocket watch. He slipped it in his pocket before walking over to the tray of refreshments. “I’ll wait here and sip on another glass of this fine brandy.”

Leo offered her his arm. “You need your rest. You look tired.”

“I am a little fatigued,” she confessed.

They walked up the stairs together. Leo halted at the door of her chamber. “I’m hopeful Cartwright will release me soon. Perhaps we’ll visit Melburn for a few days once this is over. Take some time away from Merrivale.”

“I’d like that.” If Leo wasn’t responsible for the murders, then someone else was. She chewed her lip, biting down hard to prevent the escalation of fear, for there was a murderer stalking the inhabitants of Merrivale. The only doubt in everyone’s minds was the murderer’s identity.

Chapter Fifteen

Jocelyn kept busy with festival preparations during the days following the funeral, trying to outrun thoughts of her mother and murder.

From her chamber window, she scanned the sky for unacceptable changes in the weather. This morning the sky appeared a brilliant blue with not a cloud to mar the pristine hue. She let the curtain drop back into place. “It’s not raining.”

Susan smoothed the covers of the bed and straightened the pillows. “My mother thinks we’ll have a fine spell. None of the frogs are croaking in the village pond.”

“Are frogs reliable indicators of weather?”

“According to my mother.” Susan moved on to the dressing table, tidying away ribbons and ear rings with brisk efficiency. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Good.” Amazingly, she didn’t feel a hint of nausea, not after eating several pieces of dry bread.

“Keep some bread handy, Mrs. Sherbourne. My sister said the nausea can strike at any time of the day.” She pulled back the rest of the curtains, letting in a burst of sunshine. “It looks like today will be a fine one. I’m sure tomorrow will be perfect for the festival.”

“That’s reassuring. The weather is the one thing Mrs. Allenby can’t order to jump to attention.”

Susan giggled as she assisted Jocelyn to dress in a black gown. Jocelyn smiled until she recalled her mother. Despite the footmen and Woodley plus several of the gardening staff watching the house at night, she didn’t feel easy.

“Your…um…visitor left his gloves. Where should I put them?”

“My visitor? Oh!” Suddenly Jocelyn understood. Susan thought Jocelyn was conducting an affair. Bother, she could hardly tell her maid the truth. “Leave them on the dresser. I’ll make sure he gets them back.”

“Of course.” A prim note entered Susan’s voice—a touch of disapproval.

“How is Ella? Do you think she’d like to come back to work?”

Susan’s frown deepened. “She wakes screaming in the middle of the night. Small noises make her jump.”

“That’s understandable. I have no objection to her working shorter hours if she’d like to get out of the cottage.”

“I suggested she return to work, but it’s the manor.” Susan hesitated, swallowing audibly.

“Speak freely, Susan.”

“She doesn’t want to be reminded of Mr. Sherbourne,” Susan said grimly.

Jocelyn bit back her instinctive protest, but there was nothing she could say in Leo’s defense—not when everyone remained convinced he was responsible for Ella’s abduction.

 

 

“I want to attend the Harvest festival,” Leo said when Cartwright made his nightly appearance to release him from captivity. He raised his hand when Cartwright started to speak. “No, hear me out. I’m willing to help as much as you require, but I was thinking if the real murderer thought I was out of jail, they might attempt to frame me again.”

“That’s all very well, but I need to keep watch on the abbey.”

“But you’re attending the celebrations?”

“Yes. Most people in the village are excited about the festival.”

“Why don’t I stay at Merrivale tonight after we finish at the abbey and attend with Jocelyn. If you’re there too we can watch the locals’ reactions as they arrive. See if we can shake any apples off the tree.”

Cartwright’s bushy brows drew together. “And what excuse am I going to give everyone who asks why I’ve released a murderer from jail?”

“The clever ones will already have realized I couldn’t have killed Elizabeth.” Leo’s lips twisted. “The ones who don’t believe I’m in league with the devil, that is.”

A snort erupted from Cartwright. “You weren’t in your cell.”

“We’ve had this discussion before. I want to clear my name, damn it. I want to spend time with my wife and get back to my farm work.”

Cartwright issued a heavy sigh. “You’re right of course. All the evidence against you is circumstantial. The maid isn’t a reliable witness—not when she’s so traumatized.”

“I didn’t abduct her,” Leo snapped.

Cartwright pursed his lips then nodded agreement. “Keep a low profile until most of the locals have arrived. I’ll make sure I’m early so I can witness individual reactions to your presence.”

“Thank you.” In a buoyant mood after persuading Cartwright to let him out of the musty cell, he whistled a tune as he followed the constable outside.

They rode by horseback to a shepherd’s cottage and left their horses in a pen at the rear until their return. In silence, they walked along the narrow sheep track, which led to their favored vantage point above the abbey. They settled in to wait.

“Have you checked the abbey during the day?”

“There’s nothing.” Cartwright heaved a sigh. “They’re careful. I’ll give them that.”

“But you believe me,” Leo persisted.

“I wouldn’t be out in the middle of the night at all hours if I didn’t believe you,” Cartwright said gruffly. “Both Peregrine and Sir James have visitors. If there’s ever a time for them to use the abbey again it’s now.”

“I hope you’re right. Nothing happened last time.” Not only was he tired of staring at barred doors, but he wanted the women of Merrivale to feel safe. They wouldn’t feel secure until the real murderer was captured. And he wanted his name cleared, damn it.

“Horses coming,” Cartwright said, gesturing toward their right.

They both peered through the darkness.

“Damn, I can’t see a thing. We need to move closer.”

Leo stayed him with an out thrust hand. “By the time we get down there they’ll be gone again. Wait. The moon might come out again.”

“What are they doing?”

“Is that a package of some sort?”

The clouds shifted, allowing them better vision. A feminine laugh rang out, followed by a masculine chuckle.

“Ah,” Cartwright said. “Maybe this isn’t what we hoped.”

“Not all the women I saw were unwilling.”

Cartwright glanced at him. “You’re saying that she’s there for something more than a tup?”

“Could be.”

Half an hour later, the men exited the abbey, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. They mounted their horses and trotted off.

“What do you think? Recognize the horses?” Cartwright asked.

“Difficult to tell in this light, but I think we should check the abbey and discover what happened to the woman.”

Five minutes passed before they made their way down the hill. The entrance to the ruins yawned in front of them, a huge black hole.

BOOK: Mistress of Merrivale
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