Death at the Manor (The Asharton Manor Mysteries Book 1) by Celina Grace Read Free Book Online Page B

tell her what had happened again, from the moment I arrived at the manor to the moment I got on the train to come up to London. I thought hard, and spoke slowly, trying not to leave anything out.
    “Do you think she could have killed herself?” Verity asked, once I’d finished speaking.
    I lifted my shoulders in the darkness. “I don’t know. I remember coming across her on the stairs that day – she looked so desperate. I suppose she might have done.”
    “But if she did do away with herself, how did she do it? And another thing… perhaps she looked desperate because she’d just had a horrible shock? Didn’t she say to you ‘I don’t know what to do?’ That suggests to me that she’d found something out and she didn’t know what to do about it.”
    “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” I said, slowly.
    “Who inherits her money?”
    “Oh, V, how would I know? Her husband, I suppose.”
    “I could find out.”
    “Really?” I was intrigued. “How?”
    “I could go to Somerset House.”
    I yawned. Much as I wanted to continue the conversation, I was fighting a losing battle against sleep. “Why don’t you do that?” I murmured and yawned again. “At least we’d know. Thanks, V.”
    She said nothing but I could feel her give my leg an affectionate pat as I fell forward into unconsciousness.
     
    We said goodbye early the next morning at the station. I felt so much better for having shared my worries; I felt as if I’d been away for a week, not just a night.
    “Take care of yourself, Joanie,” said Verity, hugging me.
    “You too.”
    She held me at arm’s length and looked at me gravely. “No, I mean, take care of yourself . Don’t tell anyone what you’ve told me – about the cups or the mistress having a shock. Not anyone . Understand?”
    “Yes,” I said, a little shaken by her firmness. Then the penny dropped. “Oh goodness, V, you don’t think I’m actually in danger, do you?”
    Verity shrugged. She stepped back a little and adjusted her gloves. “I don’t know, Joan, but let’s be on the safe side, shall we? I can’t lose you. What would we do without one another?”
    We smiled at each other affectionately. The train hooted and I jumped.
    “Better get aboard,” said Verity. “I’ll write very soon.”
    “Me too.”
    We waved as the train pulled out and I tried not to mind too much. Her last words to me kept recurring. Don’t tell anyone . That meant she thought that – well, that someone in the house was responsible for Madam’s death. I leant back into my third class seat, biting my lip and looking out the window, unseeing. Verity thought someone in that house was a murderer.
    For the first time since the death, I allowed myself to acknowledge that fact. Because hadn’t that been at the back of my mind all this time? But who could it be? And why? The guard slammed the carriage door open, bellowing for tickets, and I jumped a foot in the air. Once he’d clipped my ticket and gone, I tried to think again, but my thoughts had been scattered.
    I had no money for a taxi from the station at Midford and, of course, they hadn’t sent a car for me. I managed to hitch a ride for part of the way home, on the back of a farm wagon laden with turnips; a fine sight I must have been, perched up on the side, trying to keep my feet out of the muddy root vegetables stacked on the floor of the cart. I didn’t actually mind too much; I had more than dirty shoes on my mind. As we drew closer to Asharton Manor, I could feel my apprehensiveness increase. The farmer dropped me off about a mile from the manor and I walked the rest of the way, swapping my overnight bag from one aching hand to the other. As I walked up the long driveway and rounded the long, swooping corner, the house gradually revealed itself to me and I felt a qualm of pure fear. Behind it, the pine forest stood, black and menacing. I remembered the grove where Astarte’s temple had stood. Human sacrifice…. I shivered and,