At the mention of Madeline Murray, Aunt Vee bristled.
“You should have my physician look at that,” she said, gesturing to his face.
Beau shook his head. “I expect to be on a train for Saint John by late afternoon. The sooner I can meet with Mr. Ashe about the case, the better.”
Her mouth fell into a scowl, then she squared her shoulders and took a seat in her favourite chair. Her back was absolutely rigid.
“While I am pleased that Mr. Ashe was able to help sort through this awful business with your father, my confidence in him and his relationship with the Everwell women has been somewhat shaken.”
“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, setting down the paper.
“You are back safe and sound, and for that I am grateful,” she said. “But I am afraid I was far too hasty in my agreement to repudiate these rumours about The Everwell Society.”
“Why?”
“Because they are true!”
Aunt Vee’s answer came out in such a harsh whisper it made Beau blink. She was not a woman given to hysterics. Something had happened.
“Aunt Vee,” he said, giving her his full attention, “surely you cannot believe the accusations of gossips. If people believed what was said about me, I would be in a jail cell now, or worse.”
She rose and went to a small secretary desk, where she pulled out a slim envelope and handed it to Beau.
“This came yesterday morning by special post,” she said. “I’d planned on taking it to the police, but the news about your brother-in-law arrived at nearly the same moment.”
Beau scanned the letter, sent by none other than Nelson Taylor, which detailed a stunning accusation against Madeline Murray in relation to the death of Malcolm Ferguson. It was the same story she’d already shared with him, though told from a completely different point of view. But here it was, a tale told about a fine young man, killed in cold blood by a conniving woman who’d wanted his money, and finding he had none, murdered him.
It was an astonishing tale. And completely untrue.
Taylor added that he would withhold any information he had about Beau’s association with Madeline Murray if Mrs. Turnbull would convince Beau to sell the property, as intended, to George’s College.
Beau swore under his breath, then folded up the letter.
“This letter is preposterous,” he said. “And with my case close to resolved, his threats mean nothing to us.”
“It is a threat to my reputation and yours. I should never have allowed myself or you to come under the influence of that damned Everwell Society! Sorrowful Spinsters they maybe, but they are also scandalous. And apparently, murderous.”
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his aunt this angry.
“Aunt Vee,” he started, trying to keep his tone conciliatory but she held up her hand.
“There have been rumours about what goes on within those walls for years,” she said. “Those women carry on, spitting in the face of good society and all the rules the rest of us are supposed to abide by. And here I am, my trusting nature being taken advantage of, to further their own ends and silence rumours that may in fact be absolutely true.”
“Aunt Vee, are you angry with them because they don’t follow the rules you are bound to?” Beau asked.
She reddened slightly, then rose. “I am angry at being made a fool of.”
“You are not a fool,” he said, “and if you want to be angry at anyone, be angry at me. I’m the one who drew this bastard out of the woodwork. And I can tell you that if anyone is trying to play on your fears, it’s the man who wrote this letter.”
“How can you know that?”
Beau told Aunt Vee everything. About meeting Taylor in Windsor, when he insulted Madeline. The pressure he’d exerted on the Chandlers. Then, lowering his voice, not entirely trusting that the Turnbull’s trusted servants weren’t on the other side of the door, he told Madeline’s story.
“Ferguson paid for his deeds with his life, but Miss Murray did not murder him,” he said. “The man who wrote this letter was intimately involved with both Miss Murray and her former fiancé and arrived on the scene of the argument as Madeline left. He is also of a highly questionable character. He tried to blackmail me once he discovered my identity, but I would not be swayed by him. Clearly, he found a different target for his schemes. And unlike you or me, The Everwell Society are far more vulnerable to threats like this. This may be a threat to your reputation, but a minor one. This story, false as it is, could threaten their very existence.”
Aunt Vee was silent for a few moments, turning over everything Beau had said.
“Are you certain, Beau?” she said at last. “Are you certain about all of this?”
