The Villa of Death: A Mystery Featuring Daphne du Maurier (Daphne du Maurier Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF

“Charlotte, we’ve been through this before. I told you why.”
    “I asked Rosalie if she burned the letters and she said she never saw the letters.”
    “She’s lying,” Ellen sighed, exasperated. “She was afraid you and I would take her daddy away from her. But hopefully she’s grown up enough now and is happy she has a little sister.”
    Nodding, Charlotte absorbed all this information with unusual solemnity.
    “I had thought to make Rosalie a bridesmaid, too,” Ellen said, “but I couldn’t risk her sabotaging anything. Perhaps it’s wrong of me, but somebody destroyed all those letters I sent and I know in my heart it was Rosalie.”
    “Has Teddy confronted her about it?” I asked.
    “Yes, but she won’t confess. If not her, who else could it be? It was only she and her father living at that address and I can’t imagine one of the servants would have tampered with the mail. Although, on further reflection, they could have at Rosalie’s mother’s bidding. Oh, it’s a mess and I’m done with it. It doesn’t matter now, does it, darling? We’re reunited as a family, even if it is eight years later.”
    “Don’t cry, Mummy.” Charlotte threw her arms around Ellen’s neck. “We can be happy now.”
    “Yes, darling,” Ellen glanced through her tears at me, “we can be happy now.”
    *   *   *
    Nauseous, I examined the long line before me. The aisle seemed to stretch for miles. Wanting to enjoy the silken tents erected over the prettiest part of the Thornleigh grounds, the candlelight, the shining silver Wedgewood, the chink of crystal glasses, the lulling beauty of the violinists playing Mozart, I took a deep breath and straightened the folds of my dress. Glossy pink satin in a classic cut with touches of white, Ellen insisted we have our hair dressed low under a wreath of flowers.
    Standing there in her shining white beaded gown, her curled hair pinned upward using diamond star-clips, Ellen looked like a princess out of a fairy-tale book. I said so and she laughed, scooping my hand as Charlotte, Clarissa, and Megan left us to begin the wedding march.
    Swallowing deeply, I prayed my high heels did not give way. My pride demanded I walk with dignity, my head held high and my smile sanguine. I was determined not to feel awkward or humiliated knowing Major Browning was in the audience, Lady Lara poised on his arm. I was a du Maurier, and du Mauriers never succumbed to weakness. Never in the public eye, and I would sooner die than cry.
    Blessedly, the wedding ceremony passed sooner than I expected. The romantic atmosphere did nothing for my mood so, at the earliest opportunity, I retreated.
    “What excuse do you have for retiring so early?”
    The low, amused voice hailed from the shadows near the door to the house.
    “Aching feet and a headache,” I retorted, “and it’s a condition worsened by meeting with a disloyal lecher such as yourself. If you will move out of my way, Major, I have much to do.”
    His arm waylaid me. “Ah, so you are going to your room because of me.”
    “Because of you ?” I scoffed. “Really, Major, you have too-high an opinion of yourself and your charms. When is the wedding, by the way? I suppose you brought your fiancée here to steal tips for your own forthcoming nuptials. I congratulate you both.”
    “You have the wrong picture, Daphne.”
    Since he would not let me pass, I stood my ground and crossed my arms. “According to you, I always have the wrong picture. I can’t even hope to climb up to whatever exalted limb you imagine yourself perched upon. And that’s exactly it. It’s imaginary . Your overestimation of your intelligence is as misguided as it is laughable. And as for your integrity, well, you have none, sir. Now, please move or I will remove the high heel from my foot and shove it in your face.”
    He laughed, curse him. And laughed harder when I sought to remove my shoe.
    “Daphne, Daphne, it’s not what you think … let me