Calamity Under the Chandelier by Camilla Blythe

Author:Camilla Blythe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: funny historical mystery, manor house murder, 1920s mystery 1930s, lady detective, holiday historical mystery, female sleuth cozy historical mystery, murder in england
Publisher: Camilla Blythe
Published: 2020-02-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

CORA RUSHED FROM THE room.

“Where are you going?” Veronica called after her.

“I’ll explain later,” Cora said over her shoulder.

She raced down the stairs, sliding a hand along the polished banister.

It all made sense.

Mr. Palombi had come to kill the duke.

Or perhaps he’d intended to steal some documents, something from his library, and the duke had found out.

Cora threw on her coat and slid on her other winter garments.

If only it weren’t winter and going outside didn’t involve such complexity. She sprinted from the house and gazed into the distance at Signor Palombi’s receding form.

“Signor!” she shouted. “Signor Palombi!”

If he heard her, he didn’t answer.

But then it was unlikely his last name was even Palombi. No true Italian would make so many mistakes with the Italian language.

Skis.

If she skied, she could reach him.

Or at least, she’d have a better chance of reaching him.

Her feet crunched against the snow as she raced to the barn where Edmund had shown her the skis. The bitter wind slammed against her face, but she didn’t hesitate. This was her chance. Her one chance.

Would anyone believe her if she expressed her doubts about Palombi’s authenticity? Would he go off to murder other people?

Cora wasn’t going to take that chance. She stormed into the barn and grabbed the skis. They seemed long and unwieldy.

Never mind.

She had the basic idea.

Even children skied.

Surely she could too.

Cora changed into some ski shoes, carried the skis onto the snow, and put them on.

She slid her right ski, and then her left ski on the snow.

Her movements were nowhere near as quick as Signor Palombi’s, but she was moving.

She was skiing.

She was doing it.

Just as if she’d done it all her life.

Well, perhaps not exactly the same, because then she was quite sure she would be going much more quickly, and she definitely would not be looking at the approaching downward slope with terror.

Still, there was something pleasant about the breeze against her face, and she quickened her pace.

Signor Palombi was still visible before her, and she was thankful he was lumbered with a heavy backpack. Archibald’s furry white face peeked out, and she wondered what he made of Signor Palombi speeding over the snow.

Signor Palombi moved each leg outward, as if he were ice skating, and his skis crossed in a perfect pattern over each other.

Cora attempted the same move, but despite the abundance of dance classes she’d taken, it only resulted in her right ski firmly keeping her left ski in place.

She almost toppled.

She should have toppled.

But Signor Palombi turned around, and Cora managed to stay upright, even though every inch of her body seemed to desire to swerve toward the ground.

For a moment, she thought she saw him smile.

She decided to just keep her skis straight.

That should work better.

Hopefully.

She hurried toward Signor Palombi, focusing on his ever-diminishing figure when—

She skied over the incline of the hill.

She’d done so before of course.

But the slope of this hill was steeper, and she moved downward at an utterly unwelcome speed.

This was dreadful.

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