Read Cruel as the Grave Online
Authors: Dean James
Tags: #Mississippi, #Fiction, #Closer than the Bones, #Southern Estate Mystery, #Southern Mystery, #South, #Crime Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Cat in the Stacks Series, #Death by Dissertation, #Dean James, #Bestseller, #Deep South, #Cozy Mystery Series, #Amateur Detective, #Detective, #Mystery & Detective, #series, #Amateur Sleuth, #General, #Miranda James, #cozy mystery, #Mystery Genre, #New York Times Bestseller, #Deep South Mystery Series
“As well as anyone can with Lavinia, you mean,” Ernie added wryly.
“It strikes me as a little odd,” Maggie said reflectively, “that my grandmother would have taken the mother of her niece into this house as a servant.” Placing a slight emphasis on the last word, she looked inquiringly at Helena.
Helena shrugged. “It was a strange situation at first, but you see, Magnolia didn’t really know about Claudine—the truth of her parentage, I mean—for nearly a year, I guess.” She shifted in her chair. “Lorraine had left the Culpeper family about the time she found out she was pregnant. I think the Culpepers sent her to stay with some relatives in Louisiana. Lavinia had just gone to New York for eighteen months to visit her maternal grandparents—she’s half Yankee, by the way, which maybe explains some of her cussedness—and Lawrence and Magnolia didn’t get along too well. She disapproved of him mightily because he wouldn’t settle down to anything.”
As Helena paused for breath, Maggie laughed. “This sounds like a soap-opera plot.” Ernie quickly joined in her laughter.
Helena acknowledged their laughter with a wave of the hand. “Yes, it does, but it happens to be true in this case. Anyway, no one had bothered to tell Magnolia that Lawrence had gotten Lorraine pregnant. Old man Culpeper might have told her, but he died about a year before all this happened, and Mrs. Culpeper adored Lawrence and wouldn’t do anything to get him in bad with his big sister. Lorraine showed up one day, looking for work, when Claudine was about nine months old, and Magnolia took her in. It wasn’t till about a year later, when Claudine was nearly two, that we found out the truth of her parentage. By then she and Lorraine were practically part of the family, and nobody really minded, to tell the truth.”
“Ain’t this a grand family?” Ernie asked Maggie whimsically.
Maggie had to laugh. The two of them were making somewhat light of the issue, but surely it couldn’t all have been as easy as they made it out to be. The McLendons and the Culpepers definitely had their fair shares of closets rattling with skeletons, and she had the feeling that it might take her quite some time to find all the keys to the various closet doors. At least the search shouldn’t prove dull.
Ernie scowled at her watch. “I’m not going to wait all evening on Claudine. Where is she? It’s been nearly twenty minutes since she stormed out of here with Lavinia.” Her foot tapped impatiently on the carpet.
“Maybe Lavinia’s taking longer to tuck in than she thought,” Helena suggested, smiling at the idea.
No one seemed to have an answer to this remark, so they sat for about ten minutes more, each mulling over her own thoughts. Then Ernie consulted her watch and announced that she was going up to her room. “Claudine can wait until tomorrow if she really wants to talk to us. I’m tired. I got up awfully early this morning.” She yawned.
Both Helena and Ernie stood up. “What about you?” Helena asked Maggie.
Maggie gestured with a listless hand. “I guess I’ll go up in a minute.”
Helena bent to kiss her on the cheek, and Ernie did the same as the two older women wished her good night. Maggie sat there for perhaps five minutes, thinking Claudine might appear. Maggie was curious to talk to her, but maybe Claudine had decided that she didn’t want to talk to any of them after all.
Maggie stood up, deciding that she would go to the library to seek out something to read herself to sleep. She wasn’t in the mood right now for Pollock and Maitland and the complexities of medieval English law, nor was she in the mood for one of the mystery novels in her bedroom. Maybe something else—a nice big book with pictures.
Absorbed in thought, Maggie opened the door of the library and stopped in the doorway as she heard the swell of music coming softly from somewhere within the room. She recognized a Telemann violin concerto about the same time she recognized the figure seated in one of the leather chairs. Pipe in mouth, smoke swirling about his head, and book in hand, Adrian Worthington looked up when he heard the door open.
“Hello,” he said, laying his book aside as he stood up. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”
Thankful that the light near the doorway was dim, Maggie blushed, not at the casual gallantry of Adrian’s greeting, but for the sincerity she heard in his voice.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m sorry to disturb your reading. I just wanted to get a book to put myself to sleep with.” She still felt awkward with him but didn’t know what to do about it. She burned with curiosity about the scene earlier that day with Claudine, but unless he brought it up first she wasn’t going to mention it.
“Help yourself,” he said at his most polite. “You have quite a collection to pick from.” He resumed his seat and put his pipe aside as Maggie wandered to the section of shelves which contained the history books.
“You don’t have to put that out on my account.” She waved toward his pipe. “I’m used to it, believe me. My father rarely has one out of his hand.”
Adrian laughed and picked up his pipe again. “Okay, but you really shouldn't encourage me, you know. I’ve been trying to give it up, but I’m too lazy to break the habit.”
“There are worse things you could do,” she commented as her fingers roamed lightly over the spines of books until she found something suitable—a coffee-table book on the stately homes of England and Ireland. She pulled it off the shelf and turned back toward Adrian to find him watching her intently. He looked down at his book as her eyes caught his.
Taking a deep breath, Maggie walked over to a chair near his and sat down. Adrian turned toward her as he was relighting his pipe. “We haven’t had much chance to talk,” Maggie said, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her nervousness. She started to say that Helena had refused to tell her anything about him but caught herself up short. “How long have you... um... been with the family?”
Lord,
she thought,
please tell me that didn’t sound patronizing.
Evidently it didn’t, for he turned his attention from his pipe to her and smiled. “Almost four years.”
He’s not going to make this too easy for me,
she thought.
Oh, well, plunge ahead!
“Do you enjoy being a butler?” Now that did sound patronizing! Maggie winced.
Adrian lit his pipe before answering. “Well, there are other things I’d rather do, to be honest, but my job here has been interesting, to say the least.” He paused to blow out a long plume of smoke, and they both watched it swirl away. “Actually I’ve enjoyed myself a lot, because despite what you may have heard to the contrary, your grandfather was a good man to work for. He was demanding, I’ll admit, but he was always fair with me.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Maggie said. Sadly she continued, “I didn’t have much of a chance to get to know him.”
Adrian nodded in sympathy. “I know.” He struggled for a moment over something, then seemed to come to a decision. “I guess I should tell you that Helena told me the reasons your father and your grandfather were estranged.”
She shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s really no big secret. Except from me, of course.” She laughed somewhat bitterly, then took herself firmly in hand. “But that’s certainly not your fault. I’m happy that I had the chance to meet him and talk to him, at least briefly.”
Although
, she thought,
the things I've learned about him don’t make those memories completely comfortable.
Adrian must have sensed something of her turmoil. “Your grandfather was no saint. From some of the stories I’ve heard, and not just from Helena, he could be pretty ruthless when he thought it was necessary.” He paused reflectively. “But I can’t really judge him on those standards. I have to consider my own dealings with him, and in that respect he was always very fair. Demanding, but fair.” He puffed on his pipe for a moment. “And I don’t know whether it’s any consolation to you—or whether consolation’s even the right word—but he was tremendously pleased about seeing you after all this time. Your visit meant a lot to him, even though he couldn’t swallow his pride earlier and just ask your father to come for a visit.”
Adrian watched her for a moment, his eyes curiously blank, and Maggie returned his gaze. Finally she remarked, a little stiffly, though she was sincere, “Thank you for telling me this. I’ve learned quite a bit about my grandfather over the last two days, and some of it is difficult to absorb. But what you’ve told me will help me sort things out.”
“Then I’m glad, too,” he responded.
To lighten the mood a little, and also because she was still very curious, Maggie asked, “How did you come to work for my grandfather?”
Adrian smiled impishly as he took a long draw on his pipe before answering. “My fellowship ran out four years ago, and I badly needed a job. The timing was right, so I applied, and I got it.”
“Fellowship?” she inquired nonchalantly.
His impish smile widened into a wicked grin. “Yes, I was taking longer than I had planned to finish my dissertation, so I had to go to work.”
“Dissertation?” Maggie tried to keep her voice from squeaking in surprise but wasn’t quite successful.
Adrian assayed a half-bow from his chair. “Dr. Worthington at your service, ma’am.”
She grinned back at him, vowing silently that she would wring Helena’s neck the first chance she got. “Glad to meet you, Doc.” She bowed back.
“Thank you. I hear you’re a masochist, too.”
Maggie had to laugh. “Oh, yes, but I’m a couple of years at least from having degree in hand.” She grimaced. “But that’s something I prefer not to think about too often. What’s your degree in, and what’s your dissertation about?” She leaned back in her chair and assumed an earnest expression.
“English lit,” he replied, “and I wrote about Jane Austen.”
He’s gorgeous, and he likes Jane Austen!
Maggie sighed inwardly. “The immortal Jane,” she finally managed to reply, forcing herself to concentrate on something besides his face.
Did that sound flippant?
she wondered hastily.
Adrian drew on his pipe and she was afraid she had offended him, because he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I thought,” he said mildly, “you’d ask me why I’m not teaching somewhere.”
Relieved, Maggie shrugged. “Well, I know what the academic job market is like, especially in English, so it’s not really surprising that very talented scholars are finding jobs elsewhere.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Adrian laughed, “but you ought to read some of my work before being so generous. You’re right, though. Taking this job while I finished writing the dissertation was literally a godsend, because it allowed me to move back home from the East to be near my family. Your grandfather, oddly enough, was very understanding, because many of my duties aren’t that demanding, and I could often get things done during the day that I might not have with a less flexible job. I finished writing the thing fifteen months after I came to work here, defended it, and promptly returned to work here.” He waved his pipe in the air. “I applied for academic jobs, but I decided I’d rather write than teach, and working for this family paid well and allowed me to write.”
Maggie was impressed and said so. “What are you working on now?”
Adrian’s eyebrows arched quizzically. “Fiction, mostly. I tried my hand at a novel. I’ve got one manuscript making the rounds with the publishers, and I’m working on some short stories now.” He grinned again. “If you’re not careful. I’ll give you a copy of my book, so you’ll have to read it and say polite things about it.”
She laughed. “If you’re not careful, I might just take you up on it.”
They both sat, quiet, Adrian smoking, Maggie staring at the book in her lap.
Adrian broke the silence. “There’s one other thing I think you should know.” His tone was odd, she thought, devoid of any emotion.
“What’s that?” she asked, looking at him.
“The way I found out about the job here.” He stumbled to a halt.
“Was there something odd about it?” she prompted him.
Adrian shrugged. “Depends on the way you look at it, I guess. I found out about it from Claudine.”
“Oh,” Maggie said. Her fingers tightened on the book. “So you knew Claudine before you came to work here?”
“Briefly.” He fidgeted with his pipe. “Look, I know this is going to sound bad, but there’s really not that much to it. I met Claudine in a bar while I was visiting friends here on spring break. We got to talking, and we went out a couple of times. Nothing really came of it, though. We’re just friends.” Maggie watched him through lowered eyelids.
What is it he's really trying to tell me?
she wondered. “Thanks for telling me.” She stood up reluctantly. “Well, I guess I’d better go on upstairs.”
Adrian stood up beside her, and for a moment their bodies were nearly touching. She breathed in the scent of mingled aftershave lotion and pipe tobacco and stepped back involuntarily as she started to take another deep breath. Feeling the blood rush into her face, she spoke quickly. “Well, good night. See you in the morning.”
As she made a less-than-eager move toward the door, Adrian stretched out a hand to detain her, and Maggie’s pulse raced a little faster. She turned back to face him. “Don’t go just yet,” he said, his voice low.
They were standing very close, almost touching. Hesitantly Adrian pulled her closer, and his face reached down. Pushing all her doubts aside, she met his lips with hers. As they kissed, somewhere in the back of her mind she admitted that this was something she had been wanting to happen ever since she had laid eyes on the man.
Maggie’s book dropped to the floor, and her arms wrapped around Adrian’s back as she kissed him with even more enthusiasm. After a long and very enjoyable interval, she pulled away reluctantly.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for quite some time,” he told her softly.
“So have I,” she replied mischievously, surprised at her own boldness. She was usually much more reserved with men. “Let’s not wait so long next time.”
Adrian laughed and pulled her back for another, briefer kiss. “You have my word on that,” he said as he released her.
Breathless, Maggie stooped to retrieve the book she had nearly forgotten. Clutching it firmly at her side, she said, “See you in the morning.” Suddenly shy, she turned and almost ran out of the room.