The Unpleasantness at Baskerville Hall (Reeves & Worcester Steampunk Mysteries Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

matrimonial clove hitch.
    “Would you prefer to return to London by tomorrow’s morning or afternoon train, sir,” said Reeves.
    “What?” I said. “Steady on, Reeves. We’ve only just arrived.”
    “My apologies, sir. I was under the impression that our mission here was complete. Miss Emmeline’s affections remain steadfast, and Mister Henry’s attentions are engaged elsewhere. I assumed our plan would be to withdraw at the first opportunity before our subterfuge was discovered.”
    “You presume to assume, Reeves. This is the gift horse that doesn’t like its mouth prodded. Emmeline and I have the chance of spending a whole one and a half weeks together without anyone raising an objection or throwing a kilted gigolo in our path.”
    Reeves may not have coughed, but one of his eyebrows quivered censoriously.
    “A risky stratagem, sir. It is my belief that Lady Julia will be observing you extremely closely.”
    “Then Emmeline and I shall go for long, brisk walks. Lady Julia can’t be everywhere, Reeves. She has to keep an eye on the other Emmeline, remember.”
    ~
    I toddled downstairs a good twenty minutes before dinner. Everyone was gathered in the drawing room and all conversation stopped the moment I appeared.
    “What ho,” I said, a little nervously as eighteen eyeballs swivelled my way.
    “This is Robert’s nephew, Roderick,” said Lady Julia. “You’ll have to excuse him. He was hit on the head by a train.”
    “Really?” said Henry.
    “A glancing blow,” I said. “A little concussion. A sore ear. Right as rain now though.”
    Sir Robert made the introductions. I recognised Henry from his entry in Milady’s Form Guide to Young Gentlemen. He was indeed dashing and well-turned out. He shook my hand enthusiastically.
    “Welcome to England, coz,” he said. “Do you tread the boards? I’ve got just the part for you in my moving picture.”
    T. Everett Spurgeon had a part for me in his moving picture too — if I was ever in New York. His fleshy hand enveloped mine and pumped it with almost as much enthusiasm as Henry had.
    “Have you ever thought of investing in moving pictures, Roderick?” asked T. Everett. “Sir Robert says you’re big in diamonds.”
    “Pretty big,” I said.
    “You must be awfully clever to find all those diamonds,” said Ida Spurgeon, appearing alongside and sliding her arm through mine.
    “One would think so,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to uncouple my arm from hers. “But, no, I’m not brainy at all. Instinct is what one needs for prospecting, not brains. Did Isaac Newton ever find any diamonds? I think not. Pretty hot with apples, not so good with gems.”
    Emmeline annexed my other arm.
    “I bet you still have funny turns, don’t you?” she asked, giving me a meaningful look. “Being hit on the head with a train must take its toll. Do you froth at the mouth every full moon?”
    “Only those months with an ‘r’ in them,” I said, playing along.
    Ida grasped my arm tighter and pulled me closer. The adjective ‘frothing’ was obviously a silent one when interposed between the words ‘rich’ and ‘husband.’
    “I think you’re very brave,” she said. “Do you own a yacht?”
    “No,” I said. “No yachts.”
    “I expect you get terribly sea sick,” said Emmeline, “...in between the frothing.”
    I had the feeling I was seconds away from having my continence called into question. My embarrassment was saved by the intervention of John Stapleford, one of Sir Robert’s neighbours.
    “How do you find diamonds though,” asked Stapleford. “Do you have to dig them out of the ground with a pick?”
    The salvation of my embarrassment was brief. How did you find diamonds? And where was Reeves in my hour of need? He’d know everything you wanted to know about diamonds, and quite a bit about what you’d rather not.
    “I ... pan for them,” I said, looking longingly for the nearest decanter. Some chaps may swear by in vino veritas, but I