Death Comes to Dartmoor_A Merriweather and Royston Mystery by Vivian Conroy

Death Comes to Dartmoor_A Merriweather and Royston Mystery by Vivian Conroy

Author:Vivian Conroy [Conroy, Vivian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Historical, Amateur Sleuth
ISBN: 9781643850092
Google: UhtLwgEACAAJ
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Published: 2019-08-13T19:10:21+00:00


CHAPTER 11

The next morning Merula awoke with a start, her mind full of screaming voices and animals that stared at her with malicious eyes. But it was quiet outside her bedroom window, except for the wind knocking gently upon the pane.

She dressed, lingering a moment as she put on her necklace carrying the pendant that connected her to Dartmoor. At least that was what she had always believed. The pendant formed an odd irregular shape with ragged ridges on the top, and it was engraved with the words HARCOMBE TOR. Merula had always taken it to be a memento of some kind, but as she stood there now, she wondered if the shape of it represented the actual tor it was named for. Was there such a place around here? Could she go there?

As she asked herself the question, she almost had to laugh. Dartmoor was full of tors, of standing stones and other landmarks. How would she ever search out this place?

And even if she could go there, what did she expect to find?

Some clue to the identity of her parents?

That might be found in a church archive, or in a graveyard. But certainly not on a windswept hill, two decades after her parents had supposedly been there.

She dropped the pendant in place and finished dressing, half angry at herself for the hope she had had when coming here. It was irrational to believe she could find out something about the past. Aunt Emma had often warned her not to, as it would only make her unhappy.

Still, the unknown man had addressed her, saying he had recognized her name as she had been introduced to others. He had claimed she looked like her mother. But Merula didn’t look at all like the woman in the photograph on her dressing table at home, the photograph of her alleged parents. Had Aunt Emma lied to her? Why?

Where had the mysterious man disappeared to? Where was he now? Could she find him, ask him about the past?

Coming out of her room, Merula saw Bowsprit carrying a tray with a coffeepot, cups, sandwiches, and boiled eggs to the library. She followed him quickly. Raven had said he wanted to go see the blacksmith, and perhaps, on their way over to the smithy, they could discuss a way to contact the man she wanted to talk to?

Raven stood at the large table in the library’s center. He had cleared it of all that had been on it and was now putting books on it here and there, forming some sort of errant pattern. He waved Bowsprit and the breakfast tray to the desk, roaring that he needed space and quiet.

Bowsprit, feigning a hurt expression, deposited the tray on the desk and poured the coffee. Merula approached the table to see what Raven was doing.

On the right he had put several blue books and designated them the sea, creating an estuary and a river from more books. Other books formed the houses of Bixby and Oaks and the village—with Ben Webber’s shop specifically flagged.



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