Free The Seal King Murders by Alanna Knight

awoke in the middle of the night and considered its implications.
    ‘I hope you’ll have a chance to meet her,’ she added hopefully, although she could not quiteenvisage this encounter leading to a romance which would end in matrimony. Her handsome son was only a policeman after all, with few expectations, while Miss Celia was an heiress and a real lady. A romantic ending quite beyond even her aspirations, although Miss Celia’s advent had put all thoughts of those pretty maids out of her mind, for the moment.
    Jeremy regarded her sternly as she added while setting the table, ‘You just missed Miss Celia. What a shame. I’m sure she would have loved to hear all about Edinburgh.’
    They were to meet, however, and Mary was to learn soon enough the dire consequences that encounter was to bring about. After a supper of steak pie and apple pudding, Jeremy knew that he must walk some of it off with a little brisk exercise, or he would never sleep that night. A lovely evening glowed beyond the windows, with the promise of a sunset and a wine-red sea.
    His mother declined the invitation to accompany him. Her feet were sore and she was quite worn out with all this extra activity of overseeing the maids and the hasty preparations for Miss Celia.
    ‘I’ll take an early night as I have to be up at six,’ he was reminded.
    Walking along the shore in the mysterious twilight, the lace frill of waves at his feet, eventhe seabirds were mute. The silence was broken only by the whisper of his footsteps on the sand and nature’s evening benediction, the susurrus of a gentle sea. The only occasional disturbance as a seal’s head broke the calm water, looked around and promptly disappeared again.
    He breathed deeply, at harmony with the world. For the first time since he got off the ship, he was enjoying the moment. Wanting the peace of it all to last, he sat on a large rock nearby and took out the pocket telescope Lizzie had given him – as a joke she had said, ‘You would be better off with a magnifying glass, but it might come in handy on your travels. Searching the horizon for clues.’
    Dear Lizzie. He felt sudden guilt. That promised letter on arrival had not yet been written beyond the first line. He must finish it immediately. But what to say beyond the conventional holiday phrases and wishing he had a poet’s ability to convey this moment of magic?
    There was the inquisitive seal again, closer now, staring up at him. He laughed out loud. Was the seal a vanguard ready to tell his majestic master that the coast was clear? An absurd thought, but one could imagine anything on this, a perfect night for Lammastide, where a sinister legend might come alive before the sun, sinkingslowly, vanished beyond the horizon.
    Suddenly he realised he was not alone. A prickling sensation at the back of his neck warned that he was under observation.
    Turning his head swiftly, he saw a girl watching him from the sand dunes. Tall and pretty, even at a distance, beautifully dressed in a voluminous, fur-hooded blue velvet cloak that even Faro realised, from his beat along past Edinburgh shop windows, was the finest city fashion.
    Curious wear for a warm August evening, he thought, but doubtless a visitor who did not trust the vagaries of Orkney weather.
    As she smiled and waved a greeting, he did not require much imagination to guess as she called, ‘Hello there!’ that this was Miss Celia Prentiss-Grant also enjoying an evening stroll.
    She ran lightly down to his side. ‘You’re Faro’s son,’ she said. ‘She talks about you all the time.’ Faro felt a blush of shame and embarrassment. Laying aside the telescope, he bowed and took her outstretched hand. ‘Your name’s Jeremy, isn’t it?’ she added softly. ‘I’m Celia.’
    He bowed again and she said, ‘When I saw you sitting on that rock I wondered if you were the seal king waiting to gather up an unsuspecting bride.’
    He smiled. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
    ‘Not in the