A Study in Murder (Victorian Book Club Mystery 1)

“But, are not all women eager to enter the wedded state?” William grinned at them, immediately raising Amy’s ire further.

“I imagine as excited as a gentleman is to succumb to the parson’s noose.” Amy sniffed. “I intend to live my life as I choose, not how a man decides to permit me.”

William glanced quickly at her hand. “I thought you were betrothed.”

Betrothed. There was that word again.

Whyever had she been foolish enough to agree to her engagement to Mr. St. Vincent? Truth be known, she knew precisely why. Papa had come from London, marriage offer in hand, to badger her into it, calling her a spinster and waxing poetic about her lonely state in her old age.

He had blithely glossed over her observation that Aunt Margaret was quite happy with her spinster state and not at all lonely with all her friends, volunteer work, and social life. Papa’s inability to get his younger half sister married off had been an annoyance for years. ’Twas only recently that he’d seemed to have given up on the idea.

Spinster, indeed! The word still echoed in her head with distaste. Perhaps at five and twenty she was considered a spinster by society’s rules, and a bluestocking as well. However, she liked her life precisely as it was. She had no sooner accepted Mr. St. Vincent’s offer of marriage than she’d begun to regret her decision.

Before she could respond to William’s question, Mr. Colbert, acting as the club moderator, called the meeting to order.

The members drifted from their small groups and arranged themselves on the comfortable chairs, sofas, and settees in the back room of the bookstore set aside for various book club meetings.

The door between the bookstore and their meeting flew open and Eloise Spencer hurried in, nodding briefly to Mr. Colbert. She made a beeline for Amy, plopping down alongside her on the settee, bumping Amy’s hip with hers, and almost sending her to the floor. “Move over.”

“For heaven’s sake, Eloise, I shall be bruised in the morning.” Amy rubbed her side.

Amy and Eloise had been best friends since their school days. Papa had never approved of their friendship, since Eloise was what he referred to as a “hoyden.” Perhaps Eloise’s family was not of their class, but no truer friend had ever existed. Eloise’s father owned several stores in both Bath and London, which put him in the merchant class.

Since Aunt Margaret was quite fond of her—which Amy sometimes attributed directly to Papa’s disapproval—Eloise was always welcomed at their home.

Eloise was also the only person outside Amy’s family who knew about her “other” life. When Amy had first told her about her hopes to one day be published, Eloise had encouraged her, read her manuscripts, and offered very well thought out suggestions.

Once he had the members’ full attention, Mr. Colbert nodded to Mr. Davidson, who had his hand raised.

“I first want to say that I think Mr. Doyle did a wonderful job portraying the brilliance of Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Davidson. “A typical male way of thinking that cuts out all the nonsense and gets right to the bottom of the matter.”

Amy bristled and scowled at the man. She never had cared for Davidson, a tall, gangly fellow with a moustache that covered almost the entire bottom half of his face. He looked toward the few women in the group and smirked as only a man who felt secure in his position in life would do.

Eloise leaned in to whisper into Amy’s ear. “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

Before she could speak, William said, “Strange you say that, Mr. Davidson. We just had an opinion from Lady Amy that was quite the opposite.” He turned to her, the twinkle in his eye revealing his attempt to begin a lively debate.

Part of the reason for the club was to discuss various elements of stories and their characters, but William was known for his propensity to thr

ow out a provocative statement and then sit back and enjoy watching the furor he’d caused.

“I think both women and men are able to sort through a problem in a logical way.” Lady Forester, another club member, spoke with a soft voice that forced most of the members to lean forward to hear what she said. Although she came to every meeting, she rarely offered an opinion. “Why can’t someone write a book where a woman solves a crime? After all, Mr. Holmes doesn’t go running around London chasing criminals. He sits in his chair and thinks, something a woman could certainly do.”

“Yes, definitely.” Amy nodded furiously. “Or perhaps even have a woman as a partner with a man in solving a crime.”

“A partner?” Davidson crossed his arms over his chest and sat back, a sneer on his face. “What does a woman know besides how to order servants about, wipe children’s noses, and drink tea with gossiping women? I would certainly not want a woman as a partner.”

After a few moments of stunned silence, Wethington turned to Davidson. “I say, old chap. I’m not sure if it was your intention, but I believe you have just insulted every woman in the room.” William’s easy demeanor had changed from enjoying a lively debate to taking umbrage at Davidson’s words. Thank goodness for at least one man who valued women for more than mere fluff.

“I concur with Lord Wethington.” Amy smiled in Davidson’s direction. She leaned in and said in a soft voice to William, who was sitting in the chair next to the settee, “I believe you grow smarter by the day. Certainly smarter than that numskull Davidson.”

William attempted to cover up his laugh with a cough.

Eloise raised her hand. “I also agree with Lady Amy and Lord Wethington.” She glared at Mr. Davidson. “There is no scientific proof that a man’s brain and a woman’s brain operate any differently.”

Eloise was an insatiable reader. Before she reached her twentieth birthday, she’d gone through every book in the Bath Library. It didn’t matter the content or subject; if it was printed between two covers, Eloise would read it.

“I think we have gotten off track here, ladies and gentlemen. Perhaps we can keep our discussion to the story.” Mr. Colbert smoothly tossed out a question about Holmes’s reaction to Dr. Watson’s dismissal of the detective’s article on the art of deduction based on observation.