Sherlock Holmes and The Lufton Lady by Christopher Redmond

Author:Christopher Redmond
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sherlock Holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes novels, sherlock holmes fiction, sherlock holmes novella
ISBN: 9781780924625
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2013
Published: 2013-07-29T00:00:00+00:00

From The Diary Of Edward Alderbee, Viscount Of Lufton, December 24, 1878

It has come! At last! Not from Neville himself, but from a friend! I am not forgotten!

We slept late today and then went caroling in the afternoon. Oh, what a bright night! The stars glittered as they may have the night Christ was born, and the moon glowed so full. Katherine, Holmes, Uncle and I joined some others and went to an early church service, then went by carriage caroling, since once past town, the houses are rather far apart, you know.

We were out quite late - having had an early dinner - and returned to warm cider and cakes. Oh, Cook has outdone herself this holiday and if I do much more eating, I shall have to see my tailor about my trousers!

And then, Holmes excused himself, saying he was tired, for he was looking rather drawn. I think his constitution is not as strong as he would want us to believe, and he has been running about quite a bit these days.

Just as I was ready to retire, I saw on my dressing table a letter. It must have arrived in the afternoon post, and in all the holiday festivity, no one told me. At least, I’d rather think that than that the servants are sloppy and forgetful.

It was a brief note from a man who said he was a friend of Neville’s, a gentleman named Abbott, who said Neville had had to go overseas and felt quite dreadful about leaving me in the lurch about his pending marriage and move. Neville was so terribly busy. But since he, Abbott, had to be in the Lufton area on business on December 27 th, could I perhaps meet him on Boxing Day, since he was coming up from London early? He had grown up not far west of here, he said, and was planning to spend the holiday strolling old familiar places. Would I meet him at the old orchard on Arbor Road, a mile or so from town? Quite a bit of lovely land there, he said, where he had spent many summer days and, admittedly, a few winter ones, learning about nature.

Well, odd place and I don’t recall an Abbott in these parts, but then, mine was a sheltered pampered childhood. Perhaps this fellow is much older than I. Anyway, my faith in Neville has been kept and I shall see this fellow.

My problem is Holmes. I promised to tell him of any correspondence. But he is looking so pale tonight. If there is a chance before Boxing Day, I shall, but I can meet this Abbott fellow alone and size him up. If he proves false, I can tell Holmes. I am, after all, an adult and while I may have muddled things a bit so far, I am confident I can straighten it all out.

And, feeling better than I had for days, I prepared for bed. There was a knock on the door.

“Edward? Are

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