By Christine Trent
Queen Victoria, nonetheless mourning her long-dead husband Prince Albert, has stumbled on solace in John Brown, an enigmatic palace servant who dabbles within the occult and retains the grieving queen entertained along with his tarot card readings. Undertaker Violet Harper is invited to wait one among Mr. Brown's notorious readings, in which he signifies that Buckingham Palace will quickly be shrouded in death's darkish veil. good conversant in dying, Violet shrugs him off as a charlatan--until his sinister divinations start to end up actual. . .
Violet wonders if whatever foul is within the playing cards while the aristocratic younger neighbors of the queen's daughter start to die below mysterious conditions. Her suspicions purely develop while considered one of London's "moralists," a gaggle bent on repealing the legislations that forces prostitutes into hospitals, suffers an identical destiny. The deaths only buttress the queen's enthusiasm for Mr. Brown's ominous skills, and, involved by means of the fortuneteller's effect, Violet races opposed to time to unearth the reality sooner than the killer moves back. yet as she closes in on a assassin with an unearthly cause, Violet realizes she should be digging her personal grave. . .
By turns heartwrenching and hopeful, A Virtuous loss of life is a gripping story of fortitude besieged by means of vengeance contained in the amazing global of Queen Victoria's court docket.
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Extra resources for A Virtuous Death
When a man writes on a wall, his instinct leads him to write above the level of his own eyes. Now that writing was just over six feet from the ground. ” I asked. “Well, if a man can stride four and a half feet without the smallest effort, he can’t be quite in the sere and yellow. That was the breadth of a puddle on the garden walk which he had evidently walked across. Patentleather boots had gone round, and Square-toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those precepts of observation and deduction which I advocated in that article.
The mother nodded. She didn’t seem able to get out a word. The daughter burst into tears. I felt more than ever that these people knew something of the matter. “‘At what o’clock did Mr. ’ I asked. “‘At eight o’clock,’ she said, gulping in her throat to keep down her agitation. ‘His secretary, Mr. Stangerson, said that there were two trains– one at 9:15 and one at 11. ’ “A terrible change came over the woman’s face as I asked the question. Her features turned perfectly livid. It was some seconds before she could get out the single word ‘Yes’–and when it did come it was in a husky, unnatural tone.
Arthur would rather that we spoke the truth,’ the girl answered firmly. “‘You had best tell me all about it now,’ I said. ‘Half-confidences are worse than none. ’ cried her mother; and then, turning to me, ‘I will tell you all, sir. Do not imagine that my agitation on behalf of my son arises from any fear lest he should have had a hand in this terrible affair. He is utterly innocent of it. My dread is, however, that in your eyes and in the eyes of others he may appear to be compromised. That, however, is surely impossible.
A Virtuous Death by Christine Trent