Read Online The Case of the Blue Violet: A Murder Most Unladylike Mini Mystery by Robin Stevens - Free Book Online Page A

just a title. It is passed on from person to person, like a ring or a coat. The old Lord Graves had been
very
old, so old that he died in the spring and gave his title to his nephew, Mr Eastham.
    Before he had become Lord Graves, Mr Eastham had lived in America for several years. He had a wife there, and also one son, Edward Eastham. Edward was nineteen, and had lived in America with his father and gone to school there since he was Hazel’s and my age. But now his father was back in England, and in possession of a really quite enormous estate, and Edward was back home with him for good. He was now all grown up, and did not even have an American accent to make him the least bit unmarriageable. And so Violet’s father naturally thought that Violet ought to meet Edward.
    Violet had not really liked this idea – she is not the sort of person who listens to her father – but all the same, she rode up to the house one sunny day in July. She was rather dreading it, and the thought of Edward, and so when she was shown into the morning room she felt leaden inside – but only Lord Graves was there. He looked rather bothered to see her (Violet’s father had not telephoned ahead to say she was coming). He told her that Edward had gone out, but that he’d be home shortly – if she liked, she could wait for him outside. Lord Graves was busy with some letters, and trying to get rid of her, and Violet saw that. She went hurrying to the front door, and freedom, hoping like anything that she would miss Edward and be able to go home without any bother – but as she was standing on the front steps, up drove a car and out jumped Edward Eastham.
    He was not at all what Violet had been imagining. She had been expecting a rather chinless idiot, but the boy walking towards her was nice-looking, tall and athletic, and he stopped her still. Her heart beat (even when she described him to us, her cheeks went pink) and she realized that she was very glad she had met him after all. She waved at Edward, and he waved back – and five minutes later, Violet Darby was bowling through the countryside in Edward Eastham’s car, in love.
    After that, Edward and Violet went driving together most days. She would leave her house on foot, meet him in a lane, and off they would go. When her father asked, she gave him the vague impression that she had not cared for Edward (she did not explain this, but I understood why – it is such a bore, pleasing one’s parents). The times she could not get out, she sent her maid over to the Graves Estate with letters and tokens (locks of hair and soppy poems and all of the silly things that people in love share), and she would get letters back.
    It was all going terribly well until Violet had to go back to Deepdean.
    She said goodbye to Edward, and she was driven back to school by her father’s chauffeur. Of course, the very first thing she did when she arrived was to write to him – and two days later, she received a reply. And it threw her into the most enormous confusion.
    I am making Hazel copy down what Edward’s letter said here, because it is both important and rather shocking.
    September 23, 1935
    Dear Miss Darby
,
    I am puzzled. I am afraid that I have never met you, and I certainly do not know any of the instances to which you refer in your letter. Have you contacted me in error?
    Yours sincerely
,
    Edward Eastham
    She wrote back at once, by return of post, asking him what he meant by it. I think she rather hoped it was some sort of joke, for Edward had been quite fond of joking, even though he was in love.
    The next day, though, the following letter was in her pigeon hole at House.
    September 25, 1935
    Miss Darby
,
    There seems to be something wrong with you. I have never met you and I certainly do not know what brings you to write to me so familiarly. Please stop all communications at once.
    Yours
,
    E. Eastham
    At this point, Violet broke down in tears again, which I thought was rather foolish of her.