Murder at Longbourn Read Online Free PDF Page A

burst out laughing. “Worm face? God, I haven’t heard that one in years. You might look different, but you’re the same old Elizabeth. How have you been?”
    “Fine,” I muttered, my dignity in tatters. Oh, yes, I thought. I’m just fine. I just called a grown man “worm face” in front of people I barely knew. Inner poise, my ass!
    An hour later I was with Aunt Winnie in the kitchen. The cocktail party had broken up shortly after my outburst. Daniel was eating atthe Ramseys’ house; Joan and Henry had reservations at a local restaurant; and Peter had wandered off with his inventory in hand, apparently oblivious to the churning emotions he’d stirred up in me. But as black as my mood had been, it was hard to maintain it in the kitchen’s almost relentlessly cheerful atmosphere. Aunt Winnie had compensated for the coldness of the necessarily industrial stainless-steel appliances with a seemingly endless amount of red toile. It was the fabric for the curtains. It was the tablecloth. It was the seat cushions. It was even papered on the back wall. The wide pine planks of the floor were still bare, but I suspected the future held … something.
    Aunt Winnie sat at the long farmhouse-style table while I cooked us both omelets—the only hot meal I could make with any real success. “You’re not going to stay mad at Peter for the whole weekend, are you?” she asked.
    “I am in no humor to give consequence to the young man who delighted in tormenting me as a child,” I groused.
    She laughed. “Don’t you think you might be misjudging him?”
    I threw some mushrooms and onions into the pan. “I think he’s arrogant, immature, and self-centered, and I have no opinion of him.”
    Aunt Winnie rolled her eyes upward. “Fine. Have it your way. New subject. What did you think of Daniel?”
    “ Him I like.” I shook the pan and flipped the omelet over. “But why does everyone think there’s something odd about his being here?”
    “You’d have to know the Ramseys to understand.” I slid the fluffy yellow omelet onto her plate. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said before continuing. “Gerald is a singularly unpleasant man. It makes it hard to believe that Lauren fell in love with him and not his money. But I suppose whenever a wealthy older man marries a beautiful and much younger woman, tongues are bound to wag.”
    I sat down across from her. “But to suggest that she’d bring her lover to town under her husband’s nose is pretty outrageous.”
    Aunt Winnie nodded. “Well, that’s Jackie for you. She is a horrible gossip, but there’s something endearing about her all the same. I met her down at the gym—we both take that senior fitness program, and she’s in amazing shape.” Aunt Winnie paused. “Somehow I get the impression that she hasn’t had a particularly happy life. Although truth be told, I really don’t know her all that well. They only moved here last month.”
    “They?” I said through a mouthful.
    “She and Linnet Westin. Apparently she’s an old school friend of Jackie’s. Jackie lives with her as a sort of companion.”
    “What’s she like?”
    “I’ve never met her, actually. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow night,” Aunt Winnie said. “Oh! I forgot to show you the invitations for the party.” She reached into a toile-lined basket on the countertop behind her, pulled out the invitation, and handed it to me. Printed on heavy white card stock, the invitation read:

    HELP US RING IN THE NEW YEAR

    WITH A NIGHT OF DINNER, DANCING, AND DEATH!

    BE PREPARED FOR INTRIGUE,

    SCREAMS IN THE DARK,

    AND RED HERRINGS.

    AND REMEMBER, MANY WILL COME,

    BUT ONE WON’T BE GOING HOME!
    “So, what do you think? Don’t you just love it?”
    “It’s very nice,” I agreed before adding pointedly, “I got a Post-it.”
    Aunt Winnie leaned forward and took back the invitation. “Yes,I know, dear. Remember, I’m the one who sent it. Now don’t pout. I ran out of the printed ones, except