A Most Agreeable Murder (Beatrice Steele, #1)

by Julia Seales

Except for Mary, who had snuck down to the kitchens for a snack of meat.

—Note from Frank Fàn, copies of which were sent to: Beatrice Steele, Louisa Steele, Arabella Ashbrook, Helen Bolton, Caroline Wynn, and several French women (exact number unknown)

His eyes were green, his teeth white, and his haunches firm.

This vanity made her wary.

Did the man speak of anything besides the weather? “He is a sparkling conversationalist,” a voice said quietly.

Drake broke into a grin, and Beatrice felt a strange pang of—something.

One must be careful, lest one’s mind become corrupted.” “Beatrice’s mind is completely uncorrupted,” Louisa said earnestly. “She has just the sort of intelligence men adore.”

Was “pleasant” the word for him, Beatrice wondered, or was “dull” a better fit?

He caught Beatrice’s eye but then quickly looked away.

Perhaps we might discuss our favorite type of music—a topic suitable for genteel ladies. My favorite is all kinds.” “So is mine!” Mr. Croaksworth exclaimed. “What a coincidence,” Drake said, maintaining eye contact with Beatrice.

How dare Drake reject her before she even had the chance to reject him? It was incomprehensible.

“How dare you bring up your ridiculous suit, your extortion, here, at a civilized affair?” Beatrice interrupted, appalled. “And don’t you know that bribery is hardly a suitable path to matrimony?” “Litigation is my love language.

Yes, her mother was single-minded, but she wished only to provide for her daughters.

she was wearing a gown in the exact same shade as the marble pillars of the ballroom, and thus blended in completely.

(he kept muttering about “being in the middle of saying our vows”),

It was the one socially acceptable way she could unleash her darker instincts.

“I believe you have much more going on below the surface than anyone realizes,” he said quietly.

He looked ill at ease, eyes darting around the room, posture much more rigid than when he’d first arrived.

Daniel was kindly bowing to Mary, who looked surprised but pleased;

“I have noticed that you make a study of everyone you encounter, though you seem deeply uncomfortable with my attempts to do the same to you,” Drake replied. “In fact, you have been determined to dislike me from the moment you set eyes upon me.”

If not, I shall see you in every rose I pass. Yours, SB

“My fainties,” he whispered. “They are upon me.”

Just because something horrible has occurred, it does not mean we must become hysterical.” “Doesn’t it?” Miss Bolton whimpered. “No,” Mr. Ashbrook said firmly. “After all—we are English.”

“Believe me, Miss Steele, I would not do anything indecorous,” Inspector Drake said, striding from the ballroom. “Except perhaps throttle you out of annoyance.”

“Very well,” Beatrice said, and descended eagerly into the hellish secret room.

Clearly, Miss Steele is uncomfortable, especially since she has just come from her true love’s chambers.

Ah. I’ve never seen a gentleman suck in like that.

He fans himself weakly, trying to act as if he is innocent, but there is guilt lurking under the surface.

Sweet, like roses.

“Arabella and Edmund became engaged years ago.”

Why would Caroline have switched her jewelry halfway through the evening?

Miss Arabella Ashbrook: Pardon my tears. I’ve just lost my future husband. Miss Beatrice Steele: There aren’t any tears coming out of your eyes.

“She likes the competition. We spoke about it before Edmund even arrived. We had an understanding.”

She laughed, but Beatrice noted that it sounded hollow. Forced.

Mr. Frank Fàn: Ah, yes. It is the dew upon the bloom of your womanhood— Inspector Drake: Sir, please do not force me to arrest you. Mr. Frank Fàn: I am not the murderer! Inspector Drake: That sentence was a crime.

She was suddenly breathless to find herself in Inspector Drake’s arms.

“I would not call Miss Steele delicate,” said Inspector Drake, turning back to Frank. “I think she is quite capable of bruising you.”

“Thank goodness you maintained propriety,” Drake said. She whirled around to face him, but he did not look angry; in fact, he seemed almost amused.

Mary’s feet are visible where she hides behind a velvet curtain.

“I can do some things on my own, Beatrice,” Louisa said, her voice suddenly strained. “That’s not what I meant,” Beatrice said, distressed. Why was Louisa shutting her out, even now?

And she recalled how she took his second pistol from the wall and followed him, determined that no one would take away her only friends in the world.

That is not just about behavior; it is about treating others with respect.”

Until I see you next— Penelope Burt

But she was realizing that Drake was right about one thing: Emotions did affect one’s view of a case.

“It stings like nettles,” she admitted, and then drew in a gasp. “Stinging nettles. Belladonna. They are both plants. And my assailant was wearing rough gloves—why did I not see it before!”

“Ladies should have extensive knowledge of botany. The Lady’s Guide to Swampshire, chapter sixty-two,”

Perhaps Arabella never wanted to marry Mr. Croaksworth

Maybe it was a team effort of Louisa and Arabella to kill him. She talked about how her and Louisa has a deal or understanding and if she supplied Louisa with the belladonna then they could be partners in it

It was a lily—the one Louisa had been wearing in her hair.

And yet. Louisa was twenty-one. A woman—and a woman, perhaps, with secrets.

Someone was making an escape.