Mistletoe and Murder (Daisy Dalrymple Mysteries #11)

Prologue

The sailing barge slid smoothly down the Tamar on the ebbing tide. With no need to man the oars, the crew were at leisure to watch the two young gentlemen seated in the bows.

Beyond the obvious similarities—the fair moustaches and whiskers—their faces proclaimed a close relationship.

The elder was Lord Norville, heir to the sixth Earl of Westmoor.

His country tweed knickerbocker suit contrasted with his companion’s military gear.

Albert, his youngest brother, had recently returned from India and wore the uniform of a lieutenant in the Duke of Cornwall’s Own Regiment.

The brothers’ faces revealed more than their shared ancestry. They were obviously quarrelling. Their voices were lowered, so that even the closest of the sailors could not guess the cause of their dispute, but it appeared to be no minor matter.

The yellowing reed beds fell away to either side. The barge began to bob as the river merged into the widening estuary. The captain shouted an order, and the crew moved to raise sail. The Norvilles argued on, oblivious.

A frigate steamed out from the naval dockyard at Devonport.

“You’re a fool!” cried Lord Norville at last. “No good can come of this idiocy. Give me that paper!”

He darted a hand inside Albert’s coat and pulled out a paper from the breast pocket. Ripping it in half, he stood up, his arm back to throw it overboard. Albert sprang to his feet and grappled with him, shouting.

His words were drowned by the throb of the frigate’s engines. Heedless in her power and arrogance, the ship cut across the sailing barge’s path. Her bow wave caught the small boat, tossing it about like an autumn leaf on the wind. Caught off balance, both young men toppled over the side.

By the time the horrified boatmen brought the barge around, the brothers had disappeared without a trace.