The Secret of Hollyfield House Jude Bayton (short books for teens .TXT) 📖

As the morning went on, I found myself still plagued by thoughts of our investigation into the death of Jareth Flynn. What of Billy’s situation at the gaol? Could I honestly forget all I had learned these past weeks because of a foolish flirtation? No. I could not. My feelings were but a mere trifle in comparison to the danger Billy Wolfe faced should he go to trial. Therefore, regardless of my opinion, I would continue with my enquiries.

That afternoon, I folded up Evergreen’s dress, wrapped it in paper, and set out for Hollyfield House. Other than the fact the dress was not mine to keep, I wanted no reminder of an evening which had held such promise yet had been ruined by the subsequent betrayal of two people I considered friends.

I planned to drop off Evergreen’s gown without speaking to her, but as luck would have it, I turned from our street onto Lake Road and bumped into her maid, Peters. The young woman had done such an artful job of arranging my hair for the evening at the Mountjoy’s. She recognised me immediately and we exchanged greetings. I asked if she was returning to the House anytime soon. Peters said she was on an errand to the post office. I showed her the package I held, and she offered to stop by and collect it on the way back. I leapt at the chance to avoid going to Hollyfield. I told her my address and went back home to await her arrival.

She did not take long. With a little persuasion, I encouraged her to come inside and share some tea.

“This is right nice of you, Miss Jillian.” She beamed, taking another biscuit.

“’Tis the least I can do, Peters. I have never had my hair arranged before. It was a treat, and I appreciate your work.”

“Well, I thought you looked very pretty in the gown, miss. I do believe my mistress was a little put-out with that. Miss Evergreen doesn’t like competition.”

“I doubt very much if anyone could outshine your mistress. She looked stunning in her sari.”

“She does like her clothes, that one.” Peters continued. “I’ve never seen one woman go through so many dresses. Though she is generous an’ gives away the old ones to those of us workin’ at the house.”

“That is kind,” I said flatly. “I am sure you are all most grateful.”

“We are.” She looked sheepish. “I think she does it ’cause she feels guilty.”

“Guilty? What do you mean?”

“Miss Evergreen can be difficult at times. She has a cruel tongue—if you get my meanin’.”

“Oh, yes. I understand. I have been on the receiving end of that myself. It is like getting stung by a whip.”

Peters nodded. “Lots of the girls up at the house, well they don’t care for her. They like the gents well enough, but Miss Evergreen can be very demandin’.”

That was putting it politely. “How long have you been Miss Evergreen’s maid, Peters?”

“About a month now.” She helped herself to another biscuit.

“Is that all?” I was surprised.

“Yes, miss. The last one left after one of my lady’s ‘tempers’. I expected the position to be a tough one, but the money is good, so I took it. Right after I started at Hollyfield, Miss Marabelle died. I didn’t know much about her other than the staff said she never required her own maid. By all accounts, she was a very unhappy person. She and Miss Evergreen never saw eye to eye, about anything.”

“I noticed they were not close,” I commented, egging her on.

“You can say that again. The night of the lecture was a such a carry-on. It was my first time to dress Miss Evergreen for a formal evening, and she was in a right old mood. Miss Marabelle, well, she’d barged into the bedroom and they had a nasty set to.”

“What about?” I asked.

“I don’t know because they asked me to leave. But it was something about Mister Perry and his foreign friend. By the time I was called back in, I barely had any time to get my lady ready.”

“Well, you did a fine job, Peters. I remember how lovely she looked that night.” And I remembered that Marabelle had lost her life as well.

The subject changed to other topics until finally, Peters thanked me for the refreshment, took the parcel containing Evergreen’s dress, and went on her way.

After she had gone, I went out into the back garden and sat down on the kitchen doorstep to think. I reached into my mind to find a missing piece of information I knew had to be there somewhere.

I started at the beginning—the day I had been knocked down in the village by the LaVelle carriage. Slowly I retraced all the events which had taken place since Jareth Flynn’s death—Billy’s arrest, his shocking parentage, Marabelle’s fall, Louisa’s confession, Evergreen’s relationship with Flynn, and finally Perry and Marik’s secret affair.

Evergreen still had the strongest link to everyone. Her relationship with Flynn was more than a flirtation if the accounts given by Billy and Jem were to be believed. And what of the boathouse? Evergreen had been seen there with Flynn, by the children. It was there we had found his watch. With her past reputation, surely there could be no doubt there was more to her involvement with the blacksmith than she was willing to admit. But could Evergreen be a killer? I doubted that very much. Her spiteful nature was evident, yet it was a huge leap to go from cruelty to cold-blooded murder. So, who had killed Jareth Flynn? And had Marabelle fallen to her death or had she been pushed?

And that brought me to Dominic. He had been dismayed the day we went to the boathouse. I distinctly remembered the look on his face when he realised the place was being used for a lover’s tryst. As my thoughts replayed the sight of Evergreen kissing the man I cared for, disgust swirled