Chapter Four

"U ncle, you cannot be serious," Violet said.

Her uncle shrugged. "Bodies do not frighten me, and neither do ghost stories. So this should be an easy task."

Once Mr. Fairbanks had escorted Miss Eagle and her maid from the room, Violet listened attentively as her uncle outlined his plan. "To prove my old chum wrong, we will take the floors one by one. I say we divide into pairs or trios and we'll take the floors. We'll look in every room and then prove to him that ghosts don't exist. Mr. Ludlow and Mrs. Hemlock, you will take the basement level. Violet, you will accompany me as we explore the ground floor. Mr. Fairbanks can join us later. Are we all in agreement?"

The group split into pairs, each person taking a lit candle. Violet waited for the others to depart, then turned to her uncle. "Shall we?"

He nodded. They walked and began to explore. They had already visited the main room and so walked out into the foyer, an excellent entrance with a wide hall; polished, smooth floors; and grand mirrors on the walls, set over small tables.

Violet asked. "Do you really think one of the guests wants to kill you?"

"I told you. I have the bet going with my old chum at the club. And you've always had a smart, sound mind. Unlike those scheming parents of yours."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "That's my family you're talking about. And yours."

"I know, dear. But you recall the primary reason I wished to ask you here." He gulped. "I do think someone is trying to kill me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well…" His shoulders slumped, and he pulled out a chair and sat down, resting his candle in its pewter candlestick on the table. "Since about a month ago, once Conway and I made our little bet, I've received little notes, threatening me. At first, just a random one sent to my office, saying I would die soon, nonsense like that."

Violet shook her head at his nonchalant attitude.

"But then I started getting them everywhere, and the author, the style of writing turned meaner. As I sat in my box at the opera and came back from intermission, a note had been left on my chair, but none of the attendants claimed to have seen anything. I received my bill for my club, but underneath it was another threatening note. I even found one on my doorstep." He swallowed. "Since then, I have walked around feeling eyes on me. Someone is out to get me, but I don't know who."

"But why? You're the kindest man I know. Why would anyone want to hurt you?"

Uncle Edwin gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "In my time as a magistrate, I followed the letter of the law. I did not like it, but I sent men, fathers, brothers, and sons, to jail and worse for stealing. I knew the effect it would have on their families, but that is the law. Criminals must be punished. I had to make hard decisions and was not well-liked by all. Especially those who faced hard winters and lean harvests due to my judgments. Word got around that I was retiring and I think some of the family members of criminals I helped put away in jail decided it would be amusing to threaten and try to frighten me."

He added, "You see, many of the guests tonight I know from my profession. I once tried Mr. Ludlow as a boy and am glad to see he has changed his ways. Mrs. Hemlock's mother I once faced in court for solicitation, whilst I just happened to meet Mr. Fairbanks and Miss Eagle recently and they seem like good people. When Miss Eagle mentioned she had grown up here and knew the house, I thought why not invite her along, as she seemed to miss the place and spoke fondly of it. But now I do not know anymore. I feel I cannot trust anyone but myself and you."

She looked at him. How could someone play such horrid tricks on her sweet, old uncle?

"I don't know who it could be. All I know is the notes have kept coming, and they know I'm here. I even found one in the carriage, on the seat, on my way here. Someone must have slipped in and put it there without the grooms noticing." He let out a noisy breath. "So you see, I could use your help. I thought that if I were to lure them here, and get them to stay under the guise of a game, a bet, with a monetary prize, that would entice my would-be killer to come as well. And you're going to help me find them."

Violet's eyes widened. "Uncle. Why didn't you go to the police with this? Why try to solve this yourself?"

He shook his head. "That's the first thing I did. All it got me was being laughed out of the police station and dismissed as an old man. The force in London isn't the same as in Hertfordshire. All those years as a county magistrate and the men could not have cared less. The men took one look at the letters and accused me of trying to get attention or blamed it as little petty tricks that my fellow club members were playing on me. And of course, it's October, so they thought it was to do with All Hallows' Eve and a little prank."

The wind howled against the trees at that moment, and due to the thin-paned glass and old walls, the outside air actually moved the curtains out toward them, as if a ghostly figure approached.

Uncle Edwin shuddered and gripped his candle again. "Come along. Let's keep looking."

"For what? What do you hope to find? You don't really expect to find this ghost, do you?"

"No, of course not. But I wouldn't put it past my old friend to come here in the night and try to dress up like the ghost or pay someone to spook us a little, just to win our bet. Five hundred pounds is a lot of money. And…" He glanced at her. "Your mama wrote me despairing of your marriage prospects. I thought I'd invite some young people along and introduce you to some eligible young men. It's not right, a pretty, smart thing like you being a wallflower at parties."

Violet blushed. "It's not my fault. The men I meet in London don't seem interested in me."

"Then we just need to find one who is. I'd hoped this party would be pleasant for us both, Thorny."

"Well, I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she said. "We'll stick together like glue."

They opened the door to the dining room, and Violet entered first, just in time to see a person exit through an open doorway across the room. She froze for a second, then said, "Stop!"

Uncle Edwin came in after her. "What was it? Did you see something?"

"Someone's there." She slipped into the corridor, looking from left to right.

But there was no one.

She frowned.

"What did you see? What did they look like?" her uncle asked.

"I don't know."

Together, they walked back through the dining room, looking under the long table and around the curtains. All that could be heard was the wind and the sharp, staccato sound of the rain hitting the windows outside.

Violet gave a little shiver. "I'm glad to be indoors."

"Me too," her uncle said.

They entered a small parlor, which would have belonged to the lady of the house, and a fine library, which boasted many excellent books, from the floor to the ceiling. Violet was enthralled. So many wonderful tomes, just waiting to be read. It was delightful. "Oh, Uncle, how wonderful. I wish we could stay here longer, just so I could read some of these."

There was silence.

"Uncle?" She turned around.

Uncle Edwin was gone.