Murder Most Austen (8 page)

Aunt Winnie entered the room. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see her. “There you are!” she said upon seeing me. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I said, quickly getting to my feet, but John wasn’t ready to end our encounter.

“Ah, Ms. Reynolds,” he said, “I was just introducing your lovely niece to my friends, Ian and Valerie Baines. As you probably know, they run the magazine
Forever Austen.
”

Aunt Winnie said her hellos and then turned back to me. “Well, we’d better be off, if we don’t want to be late meeting Cora and Izzy.”

“Late?” repeated John. “Oh, but I was hoping to show you around Bath this evening!”

“You were?” I asked with some astonishment.

“That is very gallant of you, John,” said Aunt Winnie, “but I’m afraid that we’ll have to take a rain check on your kind offer.” Grabbing my arm, and moving quickly to the doorway, she said, “Ian and Valerie, it was nice to meet you. John, I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“You can count on it,” he called out after us.

*   *   *

WE WERE MEETING
Cora and Izzy at the Dower House situated in the renowned Royal Crescent Hotel. The hotel occupies two buildings of the iconic crescent that is featured in just about every movie filmed in Bath, but the restaurant was just as impressive. Located in a renovated coach house behind the hotel, the restaurant boasts large windows swathed in mink-colored silk and trimmed in light olive, which afford a view of the famed secluded one-acre garden. You could almost envision Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot strolling along the grounds.

Cora and Izzy were already at the table when we arrived. “I have so many things to tell you,” Izzy gushed to me when I sat down. “I saw the most gorgeous dress today while out shopping. I want to get your opinion on it, but really, it’s like a bright shiny diamond in my head. I really think I must have it.”

I laughed. “Well, if it’s a bright shiny diamond, then I think you will
have
to get it.”

“Which reminds me,” Izzy continued, “what are you wearing tomorrow?”

There were two costume events scheduled for the first day of the festival. In the morning there was the Regency Costume Promenade through the streets of Bath, followed in the evening with the Regency Masked Ball.

I was just about to ask her if she meant the promenade or the ball, when she went on, “Because I was thinking, wouldn’t it be fun if we wore the same outfit? We could say we were sisters!”

I stared at her, incredulous. First, there was simply no way anyone would ever mistake us for sisters and, second, what grown woman wants to invite comparisons by dressing as a twin? “Um, I’m wearing a simple white frock for the promenade and a blue one for the ball,” I said.

“Oh, that
is
too bad. Mama and I got these gorgeous silk gowns last year in London. Mine is this amazingly deep shade of pink with a kind of feathery headdress. If Gucci were alive during the Regency, he would have made this dress.”

“It sounds lovely,” I said. “I guess the modern-day equivalent for my dress would be the Gap.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s wonderful. Besides, with
your
looks you can pull anything off. It’s women like me who need the Gucci to elevate us a bit.”

I laughed out loud at that. “You’re nuts. I thank you for the compliment, of course, but you’re still nuts.”

Izzy affected an expression of disbelief. “It’s true! Fine, then, to prove my point, I will tell you this. The other day when we were having tea at Claridge’s, I saw Byron staring at you. And from the look on his face, it wasn’t because he found fault. So what do you say to that? Or do you only have eyes for Peter?”

“I say that your eyes deceive you, and that, yes, mine are indeed only for Peter.”

Across the table, Cora let out a little exclamation, and I turned her way. “Well, well, look who’s here,” she said, indicating a table not far from us with a nod of her head. “It’s Gail Baines.”

We all looked where directed and saw a trim, blond, middle-aged woman. Her face was attractive, with high cheekbones and full lips. With her were Ian and Valerie. “I wonder if she’s heard about Richard’s latest stunt,” Cora continued.

“Mama,” Izzy said, a warning note in her voice.

Cora turned, her expression innocent. “What?”

“You know perfectly well what. Stay out of it. Do not stir up trouble.”

Cora sniffed. “Me? Me stir up trouble? The very idea. I beg to differ. It is Richard Baines who is stirring up trouble.”

“Fine. Then let’s leave the subject alone for now. Shall we order?” Izzy said, indicating our menus.

We all studied our options in momentary silence. “Oh, the Irish stew looks good,” said Aunt Winnie.

“So does the steak and chips,” agreed Izzy.

Although Cora kept her eyes on the menu, I could sense that her mind was on neither the stew nor the steak. With a swift motion, she put down the menu and stood up. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“Mama!” Izzy hissed, her annoyance quickly turning to anger. “Sit down. Don’t you dare stick your nose into this! You will only make it worse!”

“Make it worse!” Cora retorted. “How on earth could I make it worse? There is strength in numbers, and the more people we have ready to fight Richard, the better we will be.”

She strode away from the table and toward Gail.

Izzy put her head in her hands. “I want it noted for the record that I tried to stop her. When this all goes to hell, which I’ve every assurance of it doing, just please mention to whoever is the proper authority that I did try to stop it.”

“Of course,” I said. “What are friends for?”

Aunt Winnie winked and added, “And after all, a friend in need is a friend indeed.”

Izzy raised her head and looked at us, a faint smile on her lips. “That may be so, but as the song goes, ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed, but a friend with weed is better.’ And if Mama keeps this up, I just might need that kind of friend.”

CHAPTER 7

Most children of that age, with an imperfect articulation, an earnest desire of having their own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of noise, are sure to please.

—SENSE AND SENSIBILITY

W
E WATCHED IN SILENCE
as Cora set upon Gail. I could hear only snippets of the conversation: “terrible news,” “outrageous,” and of course, “syphilis.” At first, Gail regarded Cora with a blank expression. However, within minutes, her eyes narrowed into annoyed slits, and her lips pressed together into a hard thin line. Whether the change in her mood was due to the message or the messenger, however, was unclear.

Izzy saw the transformation and let out a low groan. “Well, that’s Mama for you.”

Aunt Winnie considered Izzy with sympathy. “Never mind, dear. You must allow your mother to follow the dictates of her conscience on this occasion, which leads her to perform what she looks on as a point of duty.”

I giggled while Izzy stared vacantly at Aunt Winnie. “Huh?” she replied.

“Think of her as Mr. Collins introducing himself to Darcy,” I clarified.

Izzy’s mouth pulled into a grimace. “Oh, right, because that went
so
well. Perfect. Thanks. I feel loads better.”

I laughed while Cora finished her conversation and returned to our table. “Just as I suspected,” she said as she seated herself with the pleased air of one who has fulfilled her duty. “Gail was most upset to learn about Richard. She fully agrees with me that something must be done.”

“Which would be what exactly?” inquired Izzy.

“We didn’t go into the particulars,” Cora replied with a vague wave of her hand, “but it was clear that we were on the same page.”

“Right,” Izzy replied with a doubtful glance in Gail’s direction. “Dear God, but Valerie looks even more anemic than usual. You know, with her dead white skin and those horrible yellow ringlets, I bet she could pass for Matilda from
The Monk.
She definitely has the personality for the role.”

“Wasn’t Matilda the devil in disguise?” I asked.

Izzy nodded. “Yep. And that’s Valerie—a modern-day she-devil.”

Cora cast an uneasy glance in Valerie’s direction before hushing her daughter. “Izzy! Keep your voice down. That is not only untrue, but unkind.”

“It is not,” Izzy persisted. “You’ve seen the way she treats Ian. It’s contemptible. She’s nothing but a nasty little mercenary social climber.”

“I think they’re staying at our hotel,” said Aunt Winnie. “We met them just before we came here.”

“Then you must know what I mean,” said Izzy, turning to Aunt Winnie for confirmation.

Aunt Winnie shook her head. “We only met her briefly.”

Izzy turned to me. “You must back me up on this, Elizabeth. With your insightful ways you must have detected the kind of woman she is.” I paused, uncomfortable. Valerie
had
seemed a bit of a shrew, but I didn’t feel right saying so. After all, I’d only seen her for a few minutes. Izzy caught my hesitation. “I knew it! I knew it!” she crowed. “You saw the same as I! I knew we thought alike! See?” she said, turning to Cora. “Elizabeth thinks she’s a she-devil, too!”

I held up a hand in protest. “Whoa! Wait a second. I didn’t say that. I didn’t say
anything,
actually. I only caught a quick impression of her.”

“But it wasn’t a good one, was it?”

“Well, no, but…”

Izzy laughed. “No ‘but’s. Admit it, I’m right. You think of her as I do. If she’s not channeling Matilda, then she’s trying out for a role in
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
God, I don’t see what Ian ever saw in her. She’s a nasty little freckled thing but without the freckles. If I were him, I’d spend every day praying for the sweet release of death.”

“Izzy!” Cora said, scandalized. “That’s enough!”

Izzy arched an eyebrow at Cora. “You can trash Richard all you want, twenty-four/seven, but I can’t say anything against Valerie? Why is
she
so special?”

Cora glanced downward and shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I didn’t say she was special, I just don’t think you’re being nice. It’s … it’s not becoming behavior for a Janeite.”

Izzy let out a yelp of laughter. “Oh, please! Becoming behavior, my ass. Jane Austen was the queen of the cutting remark. That’s one of the many reasons I love her.”

Cora shot Izzy an expression of pained frustration. “Izzy,
please.
Do as I say and let it go.”

Izzy’s mouth pulled down in a mutinous line, and it was clear that she had no intention of letting anything go. However, before she could continue, Aunt Winnie said, “Ladies, I think the discussion of the essential character of Valerie Baines will have to wait. Professor Baines himself has just made an appearance.”

I glanced up, and sure enough there was Richard strolling through the restaurant with the air of a man who knows himself to be a celebrity but feigns embarrassment at the inevitable attention. Alex trailed along a half step behind him. Seeing Gail and his son and daughter-in-law, Richard altered his path and headed their way. I watched the reactions of the table as he did so. Gail’s expression remained pleasant, almost indifferent to the sudden appearance of her ex-husband and his new wife. Either she truly did not care about Richard or, like Jane Bennet, she united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner. Of course, a monthly injection of Botox could also be the reason for her lack of expression. Valerie was easier to read. Stretching her mouth into a wide smile, she directed an urgent whisper to Ian before waving to her father-in-law. Ian gave a nervous start and turned his body around in his chair. He noted the approach of his father with almost palpable dread.

Once at the table, Richard murmured something to Gail before turning his attention to Ian and Valerie. Valerie dove into her purse and quickly pulled out a handful of pictures, which she waved at Richard. From my vantage point, I could see they were of a boy about two or three years old. It wasn’t a Sherlockian leap to deduce that he must be “little Zee” who was so deserving of his grandfather’s money.

“She is
so
obvious,” said Izzy with a snort of derision. “She trots out either the boy or his pictures any chance she gets. I swear to God she uses that son of hers as a meal ticket.”

“Izzy, would you please lower your voice?” Cora begged.

Ian stood up and fumblingly shook his father’s hand before Valerie shoved the pictures at him. While Alex stood awkwardly at his side with a painted smile on her face, Richard thumbed through the pictures. Whatever you thought about Valerie’s motives and tactics, they seemed to be successful, for a fond smile now played on Richard’s lips.

Snippets of Valerie’s comments floated our way. “So much like you—so clever!” “Can’t wait to see you again.” “Talks about you so much!” Beside me Izzy made gagging motions. I tended to agree.

Once the pictures had been properly studied and fawned over, Richard handed them back to Valerie, who then prodded Ian. Ian coughed and muttered something about “getting together later to discuss a few things.”

Richard gave him a jocular slap on the back. I heard “busy week” and “see what I can do.” Even from where I sat, I could tell that Ian had just been blown off. Valerie’s face pinched in anger. Richard and Alex then said their good-byes and headed for their own table, seemingly oblivious of the emotions they’d created.

The instant they left, Valerie turned in her seat to berate Ian for his lack of success. Ian tried to defend himself, but after a few interrupted attempts he fell quiet, his head bowed low.

Throughout it all Gail sat quietly, her face serene and calm. I was just thinking that I would never be able to remain so cool and collected around Richard and Valerie—and they weren’t even my family—when I noticed Gail covertly reach into her purse. I saw a flash of a pill bottle, and a second later, Gail popped something into her mouth and took a quick sip of water. She briefly closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

I revised my earlier opinion of Gail. She was no Jane Bennet. She was a self-medicator.