Free Murder At Rudhall Manor by Anya Wylde Page B

she decided. It somehow felt like the right
place to plan her next move. Accordingly, she headed down the hallway.
    A glass cabinet displaying an array of stuffed dead animals
distracted her momentarily. She paused to inspect what looked like a beaver in
a bonnet when someone bumped into her.
    "Pardon," Peter said. "I didn’t see
you."
    "Clearly," Lucy snapped and then softened her
tone, "I am sorry, it has been a—"
    "Difficult two days," Peter finished for her.
    She smiled wryly.
    He did not return the smile. Instead, he swooped down to
play with the two pugs who had come bounding behind him. A faint blush tinged
his cheeks. Before he could straighten, Lucy joined him.
    "You should name them," she said, giggling as one
of the pugs caught hold of her sleeve between its teeth and tugged with all its
might.
    Peter reluctantly smiled and nodded as he gently extracted
the pug from the cloth. "I am afraid you have a rip in your sleeve."
    "One of many," Lucy started to say when a screech
startled her to her feet.
    Peter, too, sprang up, his reed thin body tensing as he
spotted the source of the screech.
    Lucy followed his terrified gaze …
    A vision of horror had manifested itself on top of the
stairs. It appeared to be a creature whose soul was greatly agitated.
    An unhappy soul enrobed in a glowing white robe that swirled
about its feet.
    It glared down upon them like a supreme demon staring at its
supper of two biscuits and a baby teapot.
    It had hair— lots of hair, sprouting in great masses from
its conical shaped head.
    Its eyes … oh, horror. The eyes were bright, red and moist
looking. The dark shadows underneath these frightening orbs were deep and dark
as a moonless night.
    "The ghost of Aunt Sedley," Peter gasped.
    "Your mother," Lucy corrected in disbelief. After
a charged moment, she asked, "Did she have one too many last night?"
    "It looks like she somersaulted into a pool of
brandy," Peter whispered back.
    "Undoubtedly," Lucy replied in shock.
    Lady Sedley took a step down towards them. "Get the
animals out of this house," she screamed.
    Peter and Lucy shot a few feet into the air and sped
backwards. A moment later Peter said in a tone used for children or very, very
old people, "It is cold outside, Mother."
    "I don't care if it is freezing. Take them out of the
house right this minute. I don’t want to ever see them again."
    "But it is freezing," Peter wheedled.
    "I don't care a farthing you hideous, puss filled
mistake of my loins," Lady Sedley roared.
    Lucy's eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. She had never considered
Lady Sedley to be unreasonable. In fact, a few times she had caught her feeding
the pugs under the tea table.
    Peter wilted, his expression helpless.
    "Perhaps you better do as she says. The death of her
husband has propelled her into an abyss of despair. Lady Sedley, it now seems,
is unhinged," Lucy whispered watching Lady Sedley charge down the stairs
looking wild eyed.
    "Unhinged? What like a door?"
    "Yes, and you are the knob," Lucy snapped.
"Hurry," she urged impatiently.
    Peter grabbed the pups and hurtled towards the main door.
Lucy, too, slipped into the library and shut the door.
    She closed her eyes and rested her back against the door.
    Her ears quivered, and she waited with baited breath until
Lady Sedley's footsteps raced past.
    She breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes.
    Flames crackled in the fireplace.
    She cast a look around. A smiled tugged at the corners of
her mouth.
    She was all alone in a large warm room filled with the scent
of hundreds of books, ink and leather.
    This was perfect. She could now make her plan on how to trap
the murderer in peace.
    She sat down in front of the dark rosewood writing table and
pulled a crisp, clean sheet of paper towards herself. Dipping a quill in ink,
she began to write ….

  Chapter 12
    Lord Robert Archibald Sedley, Lucy recalled, had been a
belligerent fellow. A rotten creature who had been bottle headed, substantially
cracked