Free Murder on the Cliffs by Joanna Challis Page A

“Does she monitor your visitors?”
    “No!” Lianne laughed. “But Trehearn does. Isn’t she
positively dreadful
? I call her Old Crow. Don’t you think the title suits her?”
    “Very much so,” I smiled.
    “Aren’t you scared of her? Most people are.”
    “No. It would take a great deal to scare me.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t be too keen to say that round here,” came the swift warning. “This house
breeds
tragedy. My father . . . Victoria . . . and so many others . . .”
    “Others?” I echoed.
    “Over the years. Windemere is cursed. We’ll never rest until the Rothmarten Abbey records are restored to their true resting place.”
    “What resting place is that?”
    “A remote village in Italy. I keep saying to David they ought to be shipped there, but he refuses to do it. He could, you know,
force
the abbey to give up their precious treasure and return it to its rightful place.”
    “Does your brother truly have power over Rothmarten?” My question was filled with disbelief.
    “Oh
yes.
” Lianne stared at me as if I were a mad person. “The Hartleys of Padthaway have always held precedence over Rothmarten since
centuries
ago. We’ve financed and seen to their protection. Now, they’re not in need of ‘swordlike’ protection but still protection nonetheless. You ought to talk to Davie about this. Rothmarten was his favorite passion growing up. Do you know he donated quite a sum to restore those records you are so keen upon studying?”
    My experience led me to recognize the importance of the phrase “quite a sum” among the rich and titled. Indeed, Lord David Hartley had benefited the abbey in a considerable way and I wondered if Abbess Quinlain kept her association with the Hartley family to a minimum because of this debt to a family of such prestige and influence.
    “My mother is quite interested in
you,
” Lianne stated sheepishly.
    “Oh . . .” I feigned ignorance. “Why?”
    “She likes to build connections. And you, dear Daphne, are worth building. How amazing! I never thought someone who looked like you would belong to such a family . . . such a family of
interest
to my mother.”
    Poor Lianne. Once her mother learned I’d called at the house of my own volition, she’d draw on the acquaintance. It was the way of the aristocracy. She seemed to have wholeheartedly despised Victoria’s presence, but she’d welcome
any
female with superior connections into her intimate circle.
    “Do you think my mother likes me?” Lianne’s face hardened. “Sometimes, I think she despises me. You see, I’m not smart like other girls. I’m different. I don’t think she likes me to be different. I think she’d like me to be more like . . .
you
.”
    “Me? Then you’re both at a loss, for I’m
very
different. My mother says so. All families have their ups and downs. I’ve caught my mother saying things about me before. I’m the black sheep, in a sense. My elder sister Angela is beautiful and clever, and Jeanne, she’s younger and merry. But I always seem to do and say the wrong things. My father finds it funny but my mother doesn’t. She raked me across the hands once for sympathizing with the Germans in front of everyone at the dinner table!”
    A swift smile came to Lianne’s lips.
    “So, you see , no family is perfect, and you’reclose to your brother aren’t you?”
    “David.” Her smile softened. “I’d do anything for him . . .
anything
. ”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Including murder? I wanted to ask. Instead, I sighed. “I wish I had a brother . . . a wicked brother like Branwell Brontë.”
    “Branwell Brontë,” Lianne mused. “Don’t think I know him. Does he live in London?”
    I tried not to laugh. “You’ve never heard of the Brontë sisters? The
Brontës
. The famous writers?”
    She shook her head and I sensed an impatience within her to change the subject. It was an interesting reaction, one indicating a negligent education or perhaps a reluctance to