Murder in the Mansion Read Online Free Page A

well. Champagne and spirits flowed freely and guests sampled
appetizers from circulating trays. Caterers had prepared a variety of food and
servers moved inconspicuously among the guests to offer it. Everything was
according to Vivien's specifications and everything had gone beautifully.
    William
made his way slowly from one end of the garden to the other, stopping to chat
with old friends and colleagues. He was pleased that his brother, Marius, had
made the trip from London and had brought his wife and children with him. They
managed to speak weekly on the phone and emailed each other regularly, but it
had been a year or more since he'd seen any of his extended family and the fact
that they'd made the trip despite being so busy with their own lives meant a
lot to William. He and Vivien had made their own family but at the end of the
day it was his brother who had made the effort to be there with him. His own
children, save Nadia, were no where to be seen. There had been no phone calls
or cards in the mail. After five years he'd stopped expecting it but, after
seeing Marius and all the others who'd turned out for his party, it still
burned.
    He
turned from his brother, who was describing a recent trip to Berlin, and looked
toward the house. He had made a home here for thirty years. The stately
structure held many good memories and many hardships. William liked to think he
had overcome them. He liked to think that with aging came times of triumph and
times of sorrow. He was approaching his retirement and a new era of his life.
He tried not to think of his past, of where he'd been and the mistakes he had
made. But now, staring at the house, seeing his wife standing on the back
terrace alone, a wistful expression on her lovely face, he couldn't help
himself.
    Vivien
had never truly recovered from all that had happened to them. The bitterness
and estrangement that had followed Dani's death had affected her deeply. While
William had been able to consider, accept, and compartmentalize the events that
had happened to him in life, Vivien could not. She withdrew into herself,
sinking into stretches of depression that held her for weeks at a time.
    She
was a lovely woman, William thought as he gazed at her. Ebony hair and sapphire
eyes. She had aged well and kept herself remarkably youthful. William had
always prided himself on his marriage, had always referred to her as his better
half. She was witty and intelligent and an excellent hostess. Reflecting on his
life, looking back on his marriage and the choices he had made, William knew
that he had been right when he had asked her to marry him.
    Between
them they had made six children, with only one in attendance. That was the
grief in Vivien's beautiful eyes, William knew. She was thinking of them and
wishing they were here. Angrily he put aside his memories and any sense of
responsibility. Every once in a while they crept into his thoughts, grabbed a
hold of his heart and gave a good hard squeeze. He was human. He was entitled
to his emotions. Vivien, he knew, thought of them every day. It had destroyed
her most of all to lose them so completely from her life. They never spoke of
it. It was something they could not properly put into words.
    It
was not how William had thought his life would be.
    He
put that aside the moment it occurred to him. He had lived his life up until
now, he reminded himself. He had married well, traveled, and built a successful
law firm.
    William
sighed deeply, resentfully. He was becoming melancholy and he shouldn't upset
himself at his birthday party. Vivien had gone to a lot of trouble. He began to
walk toward the house, thinking that he would find his wife and tell her how
lovely the party was. But when he looked up again, hoping to meet Vivien's
eyes, she was gone.
    As
night began to settle over them, women pulled shawls around bare shoulders and
patio lights flickered on to brighten the garden. The pool glittered under the
lamplight, rippling against the