Prologue
Alexandra
‘Aunt Charlotte, what on earth do you think you’re doing?’ Alexandra Shackleford watched in helpless horror as her maiden aunt lifted her skirts and attempted to thrust one stocking-clad leg through the narrow opening in the cellar window.
‘How the devil do you think we’re going to unmask the charlatan if we don’t know what she knows?’ the spinster retorted, ‘and don’t call me Aunt.’
‘I really don’t think there are any suitable gentlemen within hearing distance,’ Alex retorted. ‘At least I hope not, else they’ll be calling the constabulary.’
‘I am most assuredly not happy about this,’ Henry Shackleford declared heatedly, wincing as his sister snagged her drawers on the sill.
‘I am attending the séance in two days’ time as we discussed, and I’m entirely convinced our suspect has plenty of reasons to consider me a prime candidate for blackmail. ’
‘Damn and blast,’ Charlotte swore, trying to unhook her frilly bloomers. ‘But what about the others? All those muttonheads she already managed to snare? I’ve said from the beginning - if we don’t discover who she’s swindling and what hold she has over them, we won’t have the rat entirely cornered.’
‘May I remind you once again, Charlotte, that breaking and entering is against the law,’ her brother retorted, finally on the brink of losing his temper. ‘I am entirely opposed to this foolhardiness. It’s reckless in the extreme.’
‘Well, it’s about time you indulged in a spot of recklessness,’ Charlotte flung back, rattling the catch in frustration, ‘It’s all very well you prattling endlessly on about the law, but you’ve been following it to the deuced letter for thirty years and look where it’s got you.
’ She gave her drawers another sharp tug, adding, ‘Truly Henry, how you ever got to Chief Inspector is beyond me. You’ve got the instincts of an aspidistra.
’ She gave a final, frustrated yank, and her drawers came free with an ominous ripping sound.
‘Bugger,’ she muttered, pulling her leg back out and nearly falling over in the process.
‘I don’t think now is quite the time for bickering,’ Alexandra interrupted. ‘Clearly you are not going to get through that window Charlotte, and if you make any more noise, you’re likely to wake the entire household.’
‘I’m almost certain the house is empty,’ her aunt retorted. ‘You watched our so-called medium climb onto the London train not twelve hours ago. I expect she’ll be returning early tomorrow.’
‘That doesn’t mean that awful old woman’s not in the house,’ Alex countered.
‘You said you thought her as deaf as a post. So stop dithering, Alexandra, and climb in through this window. As much as it pains me to say it, you’re a little more agile than me.’
‘And two stone lighter.’ Alex’s retort was muttered under her breath as she reluctantly picked up her skirts and stepped carefully to the small window opening into the cellar. Once there, she peered in through the grimy glass.
‘Charlotte, this has gone on quite long enough,’ Henry snapped. ‘It’s quite one thing for you to be locked up, but I am most certainly not having my eldest daughter being charged with a criminal offence.’ Both women turned around in astonishment.
‘Why is it of no consequence if I am locked up?’ Charlotte protested indignantly.
Henry didn’t answer. Instead, he placed his valise determinedly on the ground.
‘If there is any offence to be committed, I will do it,’ he announced, unbuttoning his jacket and carefully removing it.
After folding and placing it on top of the valise, he rolled up his sleeves and glared at his sister.
‘Right then, Lottie, you’ll need to give me a leg up.’
Chapter One
Paignton, England, two months earlier…
At nearly two and twenty, Alexandra Shackleford was no longer a child.
Unfortunately, her father was not quite of the same opinion.
Consequently, she was forced into the ignominious position of listening outside the study door in order to discover exactly why he’d been given notice from the Exeter Police Force after thirty years of exemplary service.
At least that was what she’d always been told.
In those exact words. Exemplary Service.
Unfortunately, one of the side-effects of adulthood was discovering that truths one had always believed inviolate, turned out on occasion to be entirely fabricated.
Indeed, her Aunt Charlotte’s colourful description of her father’s policing career could certainly never be repeated in polite company.
‘What in thunderation are you doing, Alex?’ Her twin sister Arabella’s notion of adulthood was more of the, I’m now old enough to wear silk stockings, ilk.
Listening at doors held no interest for her unless it was to discover whether her father was in favour of her attending the Oldway Mansion Summer Ball.
Especially as it was rumoured that Mr Washington Singer would be present this year with his new wife.
‘Did you know Papa was dismissed from his job?’ Alex hissed, grabbing her sister’s arm and pulling her away from the door.
‘What poppycock,’ Bella scoffed. ‘He retired. They even gave him that hideous carriage clock on the parlour mantelpiece.’
Alexandra shook her head. ‘He’s in the study with Aunt Charlotte now.
Apparently, the Chief Commissioner’s son was accused of…
’ She paused and frowned, before continuing, ‘I couldn’t quite hear what, but anyway, Papa insisted on questioning him at the station and Sir Drayton got to hear of it, and… ’
‘They had an almighty collie shangle,’ Arabella finished.
Alex nodded. ‘Apparently everyone in the station heard the argument. In the end, Papa was given the choice of retiring or being dismissed.’
‘Well, they gave him the carriage clock, so that must mean he wasn’t actually dismissed,’ Arabella countered. ‘Clearly, he chose to retire.’ She gave a shrug. ‘Papa is even older than Aunt Charlotte, so perhaps it will be good for him.’
‘But what on earth is he going to do? He’ll be at home with the seven women, and that’s not counting Mrs Williams or Peggy.’
‘He’ll doubtless lock himself in here,’ Arabella stated pragmatically, nodding towards the closed door. Then she grinned. ‘Mrs Williams will leave his meals outside until eventually, when they stop disappearing, Aunt Charlotte will force open the door and find him, stiff as a board at his desk.’
‘Don’t be so macabre, and anyway, what about Agatha? I doubt very much she’ll be content to be a permanent fixture in the study.’
‘No, you’re right. Then perhaps Papa will take her for long walks on Roundham Head. He’ll be like Heathcliff, wandering the cliffs, bemoaning the loss of his one true love.’
Alex snorted. ‘I assume you mean Papa, not Aggie – and I’m not sure Heathcliff had a dog. Anyway, Mama may have been his one true love, but she died over ten years ago now. If he unexpectedly starts wandering, it will be because he’s suddenly taken leave of his senses.’
‘If you ask Aunt Charlotte, there’s nothing sudden about it. She’ll tell you he did that years ago.’
The two girls giggled just as the door was thrown open to reveal the aunt in question.
She eyed them both narrowly, before stepping into the hall and pulling the door shut behind her.
‘I take it you’ve been listening for long enough to know that your father has been forcibly retired from the police force. ’
Both girls blinked, not quite sure how to answer. At length, Alex gave a small cough and murmured, ‘Well, at least he’ll no longer be at the whim of Sir Drayton.’
Their Aunt humphed and ushered them away from the closed door.
‘That may well be, and I cannot deny that being finally unchained from that festering pustule can be anything other than a good thing. But retire? What the devil is the chucklehead going to do with himself stuck in a house with seven deuced women day after day?’ The matron threw her hands in the air after unknowingly repeating her niece’s just-voiced concerns.
‘Well, Billy comes in daily, and then there’s Albert.’
‘Billy is nine years old,’ Charlotte declared. ‘And Albert couldn’t string a coherent sentence together if his life depended on it. Though your father’s level of conversation might be considered less than sparkling, I believe even he needs a little more stimulation than that.’
‘What about the Paignton Club?’
Charlotte pursed her lips. ‘Fifty members, and they haven’t got an original thought between them.’
Alex and Bella looked at each other. They both knew their Aunt’s dislike of the Paignton Club was simply because it only allowed supposed gentlemen past its hallowed doors.
Since that had been the way of the world for as long as they could remember, neither twin could understand Charlotte’s aversion to this particular Gentleman’s club.
Alex vowed that one day she’d pluck up the courage to ask her.
Charlotte Shackleford had arrived at the front door of Cliff House less than a month after their mother had inadvertently fallen to her death whilst looking for a rare Cormorant’s nest.
Alexandra and Arabella had been eleven years old at the time.
The eldest of three sets of twins. The second set, Beatrix and Bernice, had been eight, and Florence and Daisy barely seven.
Samuel and Nicholas, the two boys in the family, were less affected.
At seventeen, Samuel had already joined the Royal Navy, and Nicholas, at fifteen, had already begun an apprenticeship at a local solicitor’s office.
The girls had never met anybody like her before.
Aunt Charlotte was ill-tempered, uncompromising and exceedingly outspoken.
Within forty-eight hours of her appearance, her recently widowed brother Henry had declared unequivocally that it wasn’t any wonder she’d remained unwed, since any man would have to be a complete and utter clodpole to leg shackle himself to such a termagant.
Such insults were like water off a duck’s back to Charlotte, who declared herself completely indifferent to the prospect of matrimony.
Nevertheless, despite her nonchalance, it had to be said that her mere presence continued to strike terror within the heart of every male in the seaside town of Paignton with a pulse – especially if he happened to be single.
Her tendency to swear like the navvies responsible for building the recent railway as well as her distressing proclivity for calling a spade a spade were the two final nails in her marital coffin.
So, Charlotte stayed, along with the carriage she arrived in, Albert the coachman and two lazy horses named Max and Ned. All in all, it was safe to say that life for the Shacklefords of Cliff House was never the same again.