Murder and Misdeeds Read Online Free PDF Page A

bed of nails available? That would be more to my liking.”
    “That is my cue to offer you my sofa and find myself another bolster.” He rose and gestured toward the sofa with a wave of his arm.
    “I wouldn’t dream of discommoding you, Luten, knowing you put your creature comforts above all else— even manners. I expect Susan’s bed is made up. I shall sleep there.”
    On this setdown she left the room, to see her trunk had been deposited in the hallway by Pattle’s groom and footman. To have it taken abovestairs would cause too much racket, so she removed her nightwear and a muslin gown for morning and went upstairs. The stairway was dimly illuminated from the hall below, but once she reached the second story, she was plunged into darkness. Rather than return below for a lamp, she felt her way along the hall, counting doorknobs. Susan’s room, she remembered, was the third one on the left. When she opened the door, a faint ray of moonlight gave enough illumination to show her the lamp and tinderbox. She lit a lamp and gazed around at the familiar room.
    It had not deteriorated as badly as the rest of the house. Although Appleby Court belonged to Susan, she had not removed to her parents’ grander bedchamber upon her mama’s death. Her belongings were still in the room she had used as a girl. It was not part of the nursery, but had been decorated in a manner to please a young girl. The wall was covered in light paper decorated with apple blossoms. The carpet, though worn, still showed a pattern of pink flowers. The furnishings were dainty ladies’ pieces, painted a creamy shade and trimmed with gilt, similar to those in Corinne’s bedchamber in London. Susan had disliked canopied beds. She imagined monsters were hiding in the curtains. Her mama had removed the hangings, leaving the four posts bare. Susan had used the posts at the end of the bed to hold two of her straw bonnets.
    Corinne turned to the desk, thinking there might be some clue there. She smiled to see the volumes of Camilla resting on the desk. She had sent Susan the five volumes for her birthday, thinking she would enjoy the romance. She noticed that volumes one to three were there. Presumably Susan was reading volume four, and it was somewhere about the house. It was odd, though, that she had taken volume five with her as well. Corinne was a little surprised to see Byron’s Childe Harolde’s Pilgrimage on the desk. A little risqué for Susan ... She opened the cover and read, “To Susan. Many happy returns on your birthday. Love, Luten.” She might have known! How exactly like Luten to send a young girl such a book. She frowned at the casual “Love.” He usually signed any note to herself “Sincerely” or “Your servant.”
    She was suddenly overcome with fatigue. She turned down the counterpane, happy to see the bed had not been stripped. She undressed and climbed gratefully beneath the covers, where she lay awake for a long time. Hunger gnawed at her, but it was not what kept her awake, nor was it the strange bed. Where could Susan be? Was she even now confined by some lecher such as Blackmore, being forced to give herself to him? Or worse, was she already dead, killed by some raving lunatic? Why had there been no demand for ransom?
    Her mind wandered over her friendship with Susan. The girl was as helpless as a kitten. And a good deal friendlier. If some man who looked like a gentleman asked her for directions, she was as likely as not to go along with him in his carriage to show him the way. It was so dreadfully easy for a trusting girl—child, really—like Susan to be kidnapped. Yet Susan was no longer a child. She was now twenty years old.
    This being the case, it was odd she had allowed Appleby to fall into such disrepair. Was it possible Otto had lost her money in bad investments? He drank a good deal. If that was the case, then a ransom demand could not be met. She and Luten and the others must pitch in and raise the required