Carswell’s First Case: A Northminster Novella (The Northminster Mysteries) by Harriet Smart

Author:Harriet Smart [Smart, Harriet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: fiction
Publisher: Anthemion
Published: 2022-05-27T04:00:00+00:00

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Lady McNiven and her brother lived on the fringes of the southern side of the city, near the village of Morningside. They drove up to a substantial and ancient white-harled house, hidden behind high walls and set in a generous, park-like garden, and Lady McNiven hopped out of the carriage, disdaining his hand to assist her, and looked about her with great satisfaction and pride. She stood for a moment, her eyes closed, and breathed deeply.

“Ah, do you smell that?” she said, smiling. “My late mother’s rose garden! I hope you are not one of these soulless men who claim they cannot smell, Mr Carswell.”

“No,” said Felix. “It would be a serious disadvantage for me to have no sense of smell. And yes, that is...” He searched for a word to describe the heady scent that filled the air. “Glorious.”

“Isn’t it?” she said, with a smile. “My mother was a remarkable woman. She corresponded with the Empress Josephine.” She turned to the butler who had come to the house. “Where is my brother, Macdonald?”

“In the temple, my lady,” said Macdonald.

“Excellent,” said Lady McNiven. “This way, if you please, Mr Carswell.”

She led him through a gate into a walled garden that presented an abundance of roses, all vigorously flowering and trained to grow over pyramids, trellises, rope fences and even up into the trees.

“I approve your silence, Mr Carswell.”

“What can one say?” he said. “I never knew that such a place existed in Edinburgh. The Empress Josephine would be envious.”

“She would be. I consider it better than Malmaison,” said Lady McNiven. She touched a red damask bloom with her gloved finger and a shower of petals fluttered to the ground. “Now, is there any young woman to whom you might wish to send a choice bloom or two, Mr Carswell? I will have some cut for you. The more they are cut, the better the blooms, so it’s no hardship for us. Yes?”

“My lady, that is most kind, but I –”

“There is such a one? You are that age.”

“It is not precisely settled.”

“Ah, I see,” she said. “Perhaps a certain important person does not know.” He glanced at her, wondering at her perspicacity.

“And the lady in question,” Felix said, “is not in town at present, so it would be thoroughly wasted. But perhaps I might have some to send to Mrs Wemyss and Mrs Dundonald?”

“Yes, yes, of course!” she said. “That will be well received. Tell me, what do you think of Cordelia?”

“Mrs Wemyss? I find her charming and interesting.”

“Of course you do, and it’s probably a good thing you are not free to fall in love with her, for she has all the qualities of a siren. There is a class of gentleman that can never resist the beautiful face of an unhappily married woman. I’m glad you are not one of them, Mr Carswell.”

Felix was bewildered by this conversation. It was as if she were trying to trick him into telling her all his secrets. The heady scent of the roses combined with the warmth of the sun added to his confusion.

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