Midnight in Austenland
Page 21
“I will retire,” she interrupted. “Do not let the ‘murderer’ take refuge in my chamber, and keep things proper, sir, and you young creatures may have your merriment. Good night.”
Charlotte watched Mrs. Wattlesbrook leave, a candle in hand, and wished she could go too. Which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, and however ominous the game sounded, it was just a game.
“How do you play Bloody Murder?” Charlotte asked casually.
Colonel Andrews smiled. “I approve of your eagerness, Mrs. Cordial! And I shall not leave you in suspense. First we put out all the lights in the house.”
Colonel Andrews picked up a brass extinguisher and capped three candles on the mantelpiece, then turned off the kerosene lamps. He nodded at Eddie, who licked his fingertips and quenched the candlewicks on the sideboard.
The room seemed to put on a shawl against the chill of the night. Miss Charming squealed in delighted terror.
“One of us will be the murderer,” said Colonel Andrews, lifting the last remaining lit candle closer to his face, pushing the shadows up.
“The murderer hides somewhere in the dark house,” he continued. “After a count of fifty, the rest of us hunt him out—each of us alone, mind you. The first to discover the murderer wherever he hides gives a shout of ‘bloody murder!’ and all the hunters flee for the drawing room. With the shout, you see, the murderer is loosed from his hiding place and can pursue.”
“And what happens if he catches us?” Miss Gardenside asked, her tone playful.
“If the murderer touches you, you are dead and fall where you stand. The murderer tries to touch everyone before they can get to the safety of the drawing room. The last one touched will be the next murderer.”
A hand grabbed Charlotte’s shoulder. She screamed. It was Eddie.
“Upon my word, Charlotte,” said her brother, “you are providing this game the perfect music.”
Charlotte took some comfort in the fact that surely no one could see her blush in the dim light. Only Colonel Andrews’s face was strictly visible, though it was flickering like the flame.
“I don’t really understand,” Charlotte said shyly. “If there were a murderer hiding somewhere in the house, why would we all split up and hunt him out? I mean, wouldn’t we want to stay away? Or together at least.”
Colonel Andrews clicked his tongue. “You are delightfully practical, Mrs. Cordial. We hunt for the glory of discovering the culprit!”
“And because it’s fun,” said Miss Gardenside.
Theoretically, thought Charlotte.
There was a cracking noise in the dark. Eddie stepped into the circle of candlelight, six matches in his fist.
“Whoever draws the short stick is the murderer,” he said.
Charlotte drew first, relieved her match was long. It was the solitude she feared most, going out into that dark house, waiting alone. She would make a horrible murderer, more afraid of her victims than they were of her, a feeble spider trembling on her web. Stay away, flies! Please, stay away!
The other two ladies likewise drew long sticks. The colonel offered his fist to Mr. Mallery, who hesitated before drawing. His match was half the size of the others.
“Mr. Mallery is the murderer!” Miss Gardenside shrieked.
Later Charlotte wondered if she misread his expression, because the gentleman’s face seemed momentarily alarmed—more, even a little frightened. Was it possible that he too hated the dark, the solitude, the waiting? She almost took pity on him and volunteered to be his partner. But he so quickly recovered that she didn’t trust her memory.
“Very well, then,” said Mr. Mallery. “I suggest you all prepare yourself for a speedy death.”
Miss Gardenside giggled. Charlotte shivered as if icy fingers were tickling her ribs.
“A right jolly fright I’ve got,” Miss Charming said with glee.
“I’ll warn the servants to stay in their chambers or in the kitchen,” said Colonel Andrews. “We shall limit our playground to rooms with open doors, all right?”
He left, taking the only candle with him.
“Colonel, the candle—” Mr. Mallery began, but Andrews was already gone, leaving them in darkness. “What a dolt.”
There was silence. The room was absolutely dark after the departure of that single light. Charlotte didn’t dare move for fear of touching people unexpectedly, and maybe in unexpected places, which would so not be Regency appropriate.
“Should we sit down?” Miss Gardenside whispered.
“I fear I would sit on you rather than the sofa,” Eddie whispered back.
“Why are we whispering?” Miss Charming whispered.
“Well, we are in a dark room with a murderer,” said Charlotte. “No need to alert him to our presence.”
“Ho hum, poor me,” Mr. Mallery said somewhere to her left. “A murderer, all alone, and no one to murder. If only a potential victim would speak up and alert me to her presence.”
Miss Gardenside giggled.
“Got you!” Eddie said suddenly, seizing the lady’s arm.
Miss Gardenside screamed. So did Charlotte. Stupid brothers.
“What? Wait! Do not start without me,” Colonel Andrews said, rushing back in, the candle flame bobbing. He placed the candle in a holder on the mantel. “We are safe. The servants absconded, and the house is ours. Go on, Mallery. We will give you till fifty.”
Charlotte stood close to the candle and watched their elected murderer leave the room, his expression decidedly sneaky. Charlotte put her arm through Miss Charming’s.
“Want to be hiding buddies?” she whispered.
“Don’t be silly,” Miss Charming whispered back. “If we’re together, it makes cornering a gentleman and accidentally kissing him on the mouth a lot harder.”
“Oh. Right, of course …”
Colonel Andrews took care of the counting. “Fifty” came quickly. Charlotte could see the indistinct figures of Miss Charming and Miss Gardenside bobbing with excitement as they ventured off into the inky house. The colonel and Eddie both wore dark jackets, and the blackness swallowed them up at once.
Stop it, Charlotte. This is just a children’s game. And you aren’t a child. You’re fine.
Her heart beat like a fleeing rabbit’s, but she left the safety of the drawing room and its single spark of light. She could hear the creak of steps and hurried breaths of the others, and she tried to make for the sounds, hoping for any companion in the dark. She thought she was on the trail of Colonel Andrews, but when she caught up with him, instead she found her own face in a mirror guarding the dining room.
Charlotte watched Mrs. Wattlesbrook leave, a candle in hand, and wished she could go too. Which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, and however ominous the game sounded, it was just a game.
“How do you play Bloody Murder?” Charlotte asked casually.
Colonel Andrews smiled. “I approve of your eagerness, Mrs. Cordial! And I shall not leave you in suspense. First we put out all the lights in the house.”
Colonel Andrews picked up a brass extinguisher and capped three candles on the mantelpiece, then turned off the kerosene lamps. He nodded at Eddie, who licked his fingertips and quenched the candlewicks on the sideboard.
The room seemed to put on a shawl against the chill of the night. Miss Charming squealed in delighted terror.
“One of us will be the murderer,” said Colonel Andrews, lifting the last remaining lit candle closer to his face, pushing the shadows up.
“The murderer hides somewhere in the dark house,” he continued. “After a count of fifty, the rest of us hunt him out—each of us alone, mind you. The first to discover the murderer wherever he hides gives a shout of ‘bloody murder!’ and all the hunters flee for the drawing room. With the shout, you see, the murderer is loosed from his hiding place and can pursue.”
“And what happens if he catches us?” Miss Gardenside asked, her tone playful.
“If the murderer touches you, you are dead and fall where you stand. The murderer tries to touch everyone before they can get to the safety of the drawing room. The last one touched will be the next murderer.”
A hand grabbed Charlotte’s shoulder. She screamed. It was Eddie.
“Upon my word, Charlotte,” said her brother, “you are providing this game the perfect music.”
Charlotte took some comfort in the fact that surely no one could see her blush in the dim light. Only Colonel Andrews’s face was strictly visible, though it was flickering like the flame.
“I don’t really understand,” Charlotte said shyly. “If there were a murderer hiding somewhere in the house, why would we all split up and hunt him out? I mean, wouldn’t we want to stay away? Or together at least.”
Colonel Andrews clicked his tongue. “You are delightfully practical, Mrs. Cordial. We hunt for the glory of discovering the culprit!”
“And because it’s fun,” said Miss Gardenside.
Theoretically, thought Charlotte.
There was a cracking noise in the dark. Eddie stepped into the circle of candlelight, six matches in his fist.
“Whoever draws the short stick is the murderer,” he said.
Charlotte drew first, relieved her match was long. It was the solitude she feared most, going out into that dark house, waiting alone. She would make a horrible murderer, more afraid of her victims than they were of her, a feeble spider trembling on her web. Stay away, flies! Please, stay away!
The other two ladies likewise drew long sticks. The colonel offered his fist to Mr. Mallery, who hesitated before drawing. His match was half the size of the others.
“Mr. Mallery is the murderer!” Miss Gardenside shrieked.
Later Charlotte wondered if she misread his expression, because the gentleman’s face seemed momentarily alarmed—more, even a little frightened. Was it possible that he too hated the dark, the solitude, the waiting? She almost took pity on him and volunteered to be his partner. But he so quickly recovered that she didn’t trust her memory.
“Very well, then,” said Mr. Mallery. “I suggest you all prepare yourself for a speedy death.”
Miss Gardenside giggled. Charlotte shivered as if icy fingers were tickling her ribs.
“A right jolly fright I’ve got,” Miss Charming said with glee.
“I’ll warn the servants to stay in their chambers or in the kitchen,” said Colonel Andrews. “We shall limit our playground to rooms with open doors, all right?”
He left, taking the only candle with him.
“Colonel, the candle—” Mr. Mallery began, but Andrews was already gone, leaving them in darkness. “What a dolt.”
There was silence. The room was absolutely dark after the departure of that single light. Charlotte didn’t dare move for fear of touching people unexpectedly, and maybe in unexpected places, which would so not be Regency appropriate.
“Should we sit down?” Miss Gardenside whispered.
“I fear I would sit on you rather than the sofa,” Eddie whispered back.
“Why are we whispering?” Miss Charming whispered.
“Well, we are in a dark room with a murderer,” said Charlotte. “No need to alert him to our presence.”
“Ho hum, poor me,” Mr. Mallery said somewhere to her left. “A murderer, all alone, and no one to murder. If only a potential victim would speak up and alert me to her presence.”
Miss Gardenside giggled.
“Got you!” Eddie said suddenly, seizing the lady’s arm.
Miss Gardenside screamed. So did Charlotte. Stupid brothers.
“What? Wait! Do not start without me,” Colonel Andrews said, rushing back in, the candle flame bobbing. He placed the candle in a holder on the mantel. “We are safe. The servants absconded, and the house is ours. Go on, Mallery. We will give you till fifty.”
Charlotte stood close to the candle and watched their elected murderer leave the room, his expression decidedly sneaky. Charlotte put her arm through Miss Charming’s.
“Want to be hiding buddies?” she whispered.
“Don’t be silly,” Miss Charming whispered back. “If we’re together, it makes cornering a gentleman and accidentally kissing him on the mouth a lot harder.”
“Oh. Right, of course …”
Colonel Andrews took care of the counting. “Fifty” came quickly. Charlotte could see the indistinct figures of Miss Charming and Miss Gardenside bobbing with excitement as they ventured off into the inky house. The colonel and Eddie both wore dark jackets, and the blackness swallowed them up at once.
Stop it, Charlotte. This is just a children’s game. And you aren’t a child. You’re fine.
Her heart beat like a fleeing rabbit’s, but she left the safety of the drawing room and its single spark of light. She could hear the creak of steps and hurried breaths of the others, and she tried to make for the sounds, hoping for any companion in the dark. She thought she was on the trail of Colonel Andrews, but when she caught up with him, instead she found her own face in a mirror guarding the dining room.
