Miss Moriarty, I Presume?: The Lady Sherlock Mysteries Book 6 by Sherry Thomas

Author:Sherry Thomas [Thomas, Sherry]
Language: eng
Format: epub

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The previous December, while reconnoitering at night, Lord Ingram had leaped into a nearly frozen lake to avoid detection by guard dogs. The memory of the bone-biting agony—and the even more frightening lethargy that followed—had stayed with him a long time.

Compared to that, this night was both less cold and less dangerous. At times the squalls seemed strong enough to lift him off his feet, and temperatures had fallen sharply, but still it was the chill of early spring and not the rawness of deep winter.

Not to mention he had a hot water bottle in a knitted envelope cozy.

Alas, the night was long. At first he had moved about more, familiarized himself with the disposition of the buildings and other features inside the Garden. But after Mr. Peters’s harried return, he had taken up position under the shade hut next to the kitchen garden, from which to keep an eye on Miss Baxter’s cluster of dwellings.

Not that he could see much, the night being lightless. He could not even hear much over the shriek of the wind and the pounding of the waves. But the spot still seemed optimal—among a dearth of choices—not easy to detect by the sentinels on the walls, open in several directions so that he could evade Mr. Peters, who was on patrol, and still remain close enough to Miss Baxter’s house.

To his surprise, Mr. Peters’s patrol was less than thorough.

The lanterns of those on the wall must have been fitted with specially made reflective lenses. They generated a bright and concentrated beam of light whenever their shutters opened. The light lingered on Miss Baxter’s lodge more frequently than anywhere else. And often, when the lodge was illuminated, Mr. Peters’s form could be seen, pacing either the front veranda or the periphery of the lodge.

About twenty minutes after Lord Ingram had taken up his position—he could not check his watch when there was no light—someone holding a lit lantern and exhibiting a small limp ran out of the lodge. The Garden’s physician, who, according to Holmes, had taken a fall earlier in the night? He hoped Holmes, who had wanted to look inside Dr. Robinson’s cottage, had finished with her inspection. A few minutes later, the physician returned with a doctor’s bag and a few other items in hand. Lord Ingram let out a breath: It seemed that Dr. Robinson’s expedition had gone off without any incidents.

After Dr. Robinson went back inside Miss Baxter’s lodge, the door of the lodge opened and shut another few times. Lord Ingram could not tell who darted about in the dark, though he did occasionally make out harried footsteps, those of a single person running.

In the middle of these rushed entrances and exits, a lantern shone down from the south wall.

“Not now, Mr. McEwan,” growled Mr. Peters.

The light went out immediately. And didn’t shine again until whoever was running in and out of the house appeared to be done with their task.

Lord Ingram imagined a dying Miss Baxter

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