The Secret of Hollyfield House, Jude Bayton [books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

I stared at her pretty face in disbelief. Was she being honest? I could not tell, yet instinctively I did not believe her. Evergreen LaVelle would never be easily scared. I doubted she would hesitate to report Billy’s behavior if he had made her uncomfortable. I decided to change the subject. “How well did you know Jareth Flynn?”

Her shift in posture was noticeable, and I sensed her discomfort. This pleased me.

“Why on earth are you asking me that? You know, Jillian, your propensity for bluntness can be most disconcerting, but sometimes it is insulting.” Evergreen LaVelle was profoundly displeased.

“I do not mean to offend you,” I placated. “But I would like to know about your relationship with the blacksmith.”

She got to her feet and walked over to the parlour window. Evergreen stood with her back to me for a few moments and then turned to face me. I could see her irritation by the rigidity of her posture, and her colour was up. “I take it you have a good reason for this impertinent question?”

I nodded.

“Oh, all right, I will tell you. I knew Flynn as a friend. But you cannot tell another soul because my father would kill me if he found out.” She walked back to take her vacated seat. “Look, Jillian. I got myself into a little predicament in London. Nothing too terrible, but Father was livid about it. He sent me to Hollyfield to keep me out of trouble and for me to pay penance. I was bored out of my mind. I met Flynn when my horse threw a shoe. Of course, he was not the kind of person I would ordinarily associate with, but then, I could say the same about you.”

I ignored her barb.

“The man was friendly, handsome, and he made me laugh. We became friends. And that is all.”

“How often did you meet?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Jareth. Did you and he meet up as friends from time to time?”

She had the decency to blush. It answered my question, but I was not yet finished. “When did you last see him?”

“The day before they found his body. We met near our boathouse as he had business at Hollyfield.” I wondered what that business was but did not press her. Frankly, I was surprised she had told me even this much.

“Jillian, I had nothing to do with what happened to the man. I admit to being guilty of a little flirtation, but that is all.”

“Yet you are convinced Billy Wolfe killed him. A boy in a man’s body, who had no motive to kill Flynn.”

“Yes, he did.” Her voice was firm. “Jareth teased Billy all the time, and he probably just snapped.”

“If that were the case, he would have hit the man, not killed him.”

“Oh, so now you are a sleuth? It seems you are bent on putting the blame elsewhere.”

“Perhaps it is that I do not understand your intense dislike of Billy. How can you think him a lower life form because he has an affliction which he was born with?”

“What would you know about my feelings?”

“I know you are harsh whenever you speak of him, that you despise his condition. But why? What has Billy ever done to you?” I already knew. Billy had the audacity to be an unwelcome, unwanted half-brother. I did not tell her I was privy to the family’s secret. I wondered if she would tell me herself.

She returned to her seat. “Jillian, you know nothing of me or the LaVelles, yet you are very swift to judge. I come from an ambiguous family. On my father’s side, we are from hardworking-class stock. My mother’s family were aristocratic, and frankly prone to nervous dispositions, especially the women.” She sighed. “Mother lost two children before Perry and I were born. Vincent was stillborn, and Lucien lived for six weeks. By the time she gave birth to twins while living in India, it took much out of her. According to our ayah, Simka, Mother often spoke of her lost boys as though they were still alive. She spent much time in her sickbed, and Simka took care of Perry and me. I do not know what was wrong with our mother. It was most likely depression. Because she committed suicide when we were two years old.”

I gasped, “Oh, no.” I felt shame in goading her. The poor girl was unhappy and with good reason. To lose her mother at such a young age was tragic.

“So, you see, Jillian, I have experienced what mental illness does first-hand. If I am cruel in my opinion of Billy, then so be it, I make no apology. Now—” she rose to her feet. “I must be off. I really did just need a break from the miserable house. That is why I came.”

I stood up, wracked with guilt. “I am sorry for making you feel worse by dragging up the past. Please accept my apology, Evergreen. I hope I have not made you unhappy.”

“Do not concern yourself,” she said, reverting to her usual flippant tone. “I have lived with the consequences now for nineteen years. I believe I can manage a little conversation like this.”

I walked her to the hallway.

She stopped at the door and turned to me. “Would you be able to visit Hollyfield on Friday? Come for luncheon, Jillian, and spend the afternoon with me.” She sensed my hesitation. “Oh, say you can, please, else I shall go mad with being alone.”

I desperately wanted to refuse, yet after my indelicacy with her mother, I could not bring myself to decline.

DOMINIC CAME TO THE HOUSE late in the day and I felt ridiculously pleased to see him. We went straight into the kitchen where he gratefully accepted a thick ham sandwich and a frothy mug of ale. Mrs Stackpoole was out visiting a neighbour and we had the house to ourselves.

There were many questions I burned to ask but thought it better to let him sate his hunger first. I initiated the