Amateur sleuth Lady Julia Grey and her detective husband, Nicholas Brisbane, face their latest adventure in this novella by New York Times bestselling author Deanna Raybourn
Itâs the autumn of 1890, and almost a year has passed sinceâmuch to their surpriseâLady Julia and Nicholas became parents. Just as the couple begins to adapt, a solicitor arrives with a strange bequest. Nicholas, it seems, has inherited a country houseâbut only if he and his family are in residence from All Hallowsâ Eve through Bonfire Night.
Neither Lady Julia nor Nicholas is likely to be put off by local legends of ghosts and witches, and the eerie noises and strange lights that flit from room to room simply intrigue them. Until a new ladyâs maid disappears, igniting a caper that will have explosive resultsâ¦
The fourth in a series of Lady Julia Grey stories set during traditional English holidays, Bonfire Night follows Silent Night, Midsummer Night and Twelfth Night. Look for Deannaâs newest 1920s novel, Night of a Thousand Stars, in October!
Chapter One
London, 1890
âJulia, how did you misplace the baby? Again?â my sister asked with more than a touch of asperity.
I gave her the most dignified look I could muster under the circumstances. âI did not misplace him,â I informed her in lofty tones. âI forgot him.â The fact that this was now the fourth time I had walked into the park with the child and left without him was mortifyingâand not something my siblings would let me soon forget.
âOh, that makes it quite all right then,â chimed in our brother Plum. I put my tongue out at him, but before I could form a suitable reply, my husband spoke.
âItâs my fault entirely,â he said, his voice silken. âJulia was generous enough to take on a case of some delicacy. She was rather preoccupied with breaking the alibi of a jewel thief.â
Plum twitched in his chair. âThe Enderby case? I thought that was put to bed last week,â he protested. The theft of the Enderby opals was the most important investigation that my husband had allowed Plum to undertake on his own authority. He had been single-minded in his pursuit of the culpritâso much so that Lady Enderbyâs maid had nearly been arrested for the theft after only an hourâs investigation.
I smiled sweetly at my brother. âYes, the maid was the most obvious thief, wasnât she? But the solution seemed a little too simple to Brisbane. He refused to have her arrested until I had spoken with her.â
Plum flushed pink to his ears and shot an accusing look at Brisbane. âIt was my case,â he repeated.
âAnd it was mishandled,â my husband returned coolly. âThe case against the girl was damning, but I was not persuaded.â
âShe confessed,â Plum retorted, his jaw set stubbornly. But the more enraged he became, the calmer Brisbane remained. It was a trick I had seen him employ a thousand times, and usually upon me. Brisbane had learnt long ago the most effective way of handling any member of the March family was to remain utterly unmoved in the face of strong emotion. Goading him out of his sang-froid was one of my favourite pastimes, but my decidedly intimate methods would never work for my brother, I reflected with a delicate frisson of remembered passion.
âShe confessed because she is French and therefore away from her home, her country, her friends. She told me about the accusations you lobbed at her,â I chided. âYou practically called her a thief the moment you sat her down. What did you expect her to do?â
âI expected her to tell the truth,â he said.
âCareful,â Portia warned. âPlumâs getting into a pet and you know his sulking puts me off my food.â
I waved a hand. âIf we have dinner at all, you may count yourselves fortunate. The workmen have moved into the kitchens and twice this week Brisbane and I have dined on bananas.â
âWhy bananas?â Portia asked.
âGift from a grateful client,â Brisbane returned. âHis Excellency the ambassador of the Emir of Ranapurcha was very generous with them. We have forty pounds left.â
Portia blinked. âHe gave you forty pounds of bananas?â
âYou misunderstood, dearest,â I corrected. âWe have forty pounds remaining. There were one hundred to begin with. Mrs. Lawson has put them into, salads, sauces, soufflésâI think at one unfortunate meal she even managed to make them into soup.â
âDo not remind me,â Brisbane put in with a curl of his handsome mouth. âIt was grey.â
I went on. âBut she has left us at last, bound for a peaceful retirement at her sisterâs cottage in Weymouth, and we are left with a new cook and a larder full of ripe bananas.â
âThat explains the smell,â Plum said. He still looked a trifle sulky, and I knew he was not over his mood. His next remark confirmed it. âSo,â he said, fixing me with a gleeful look, âyou were telling us about losing the baby. Again.â