The Thirteenth Earl by Evelyn Pryce

Author:Evelyn Pryce [Pryce, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503952034
Published: 2016-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

“Get back,” Spencer said, whirling around to them, closing the balcony door on Thaxton and pushing Eliza and Cassandra into the room.

“What is it?” Cassandra demanded. “The shape in the corner of the balcony?”

“A raven,” he said, glancing behind him. “A dead raven.”

Eliza looked confused. “Thaxton killed a raven?”

“No,” Spencer and Cassandra said at the same time, albeit with very different inflections.

“He did not do this,” she added. “He is not mad. He is miserable.”

“Correct,” Spencer said.

“You left him out there with a dead bird,” Eliza said. “Who is to say he is not painting his face for war and screaming to the sky?”

“He is vomiting, actually,” Spencer said.

“He is not mad, Eliza,” Cassandra insisted.

“Oh, good,” Eliza said, throwing up her hands. “Tell him to aim away from my hydrangeas.”

Cassandra tried to see Thaxton through the window, but he must have been too far into the corner of the balcony. The worry she felt had ramped up, threatening to boil over. She had to tell Eliza and Spencer what had been going on—or a version of it.

Thaxton came back in, closing the balcony door, his head down and shoulders slumped. He looked gray.

“Should I get a doctor?” Spencer asked.

He shook his head. “No, no. No need.”

Cassandra fought the urge to press the issue; someone should look at him, to be sure. He was not in the best of health overall, and the current predicament was not helping.

“I feel it is time that we admit this is not a ghost,” Spencer said, with a quick glance at his wife. “And find out why someone is targeting Thax.”

Cassandra’s eyes shot to the viscount’s at the same time his met hers.

“We—Lord Thaxton and I—have our guesses,” she said.

“Miss Seton has a guess. I do not care,” Thaxton amended. “Might I add that you can do nothing to keep me here, should I choose to leave? Spencer. I am a grown man.”

“You,” Spencer said, “are not in your right mind.”

Cassandra watched Thaxton hear those words, watched his body go strained.

“Of course not. That is what everyone says—I am insane, correct? The last scion of a tragic family, slowly cracking? Fine. Allow me to lose my mind safely at home.”

Spencer ignored him and nodded his head at Cassandra. “You have a guess, Miss Seton?”

Cassandra looked to the viscount again, but he was looking away resolutely. She had no idea how much to reveal, where to even begin.

“We have been investigating,” Thaxton said before she could open her mouth. “Investigating the séance. Miss Seton suspects Lucy Macallister.”

“You have been what?” Eliza said, an indictment.

“I thought it was phony,” Cassandra said, “at least that was how it began. At this point, I think that Lucy Macallister is actively trying to convince Thaxton he is mad.”

“Why would she want to do that?” Eliza asked.

“I have no idea. But I do know that the whole séance was fabricated, and I have proof. If anyone should be leaving this house, it is she.”

“Enough for now,” Spencer said definitively. “We will have the bird cleaned up, as well as Lord Thaxton.

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