By David Dickinson
Rather than top his riders to the quest, the 15th Earl of Candlesby is located lifeless, his physique wrapped in blankets atop his horse, a nook of his scarlet coat noticeable within the morning mist. 3 humans see the physique. One dies. one other vanishes. Now just one guy is familiar with how he was once killed. Lord Powerscourt is summoned to enquire the homicide. Powerscourt uncovers a tangled net of jealousy, revenge, and hatred on a rundown property the place the daddy and his sons are both risky. The 15th Earl has left a path of dueling, robbery, and adultery around the flatlands of Lincolnshire. it is going to take one other homicide and a dangerous chase underneath the crumbling property prior to Powerscourt unlocks the secret.
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Extra info for Death in a Scarlet Coat (Lord Francis Powerscourt, Book 10)
On the seventh or eighth night after the death of Lady Madeline, I experienced the full power of these feelings. For hours I lay awake, struggling against a sense of fear. I blamed my surroundings — the dusty furniture, the torn curtains which moved about in the wind of a rising storm, the ancient bed on which I lay. But my efforts were useless. At last, thoroughly afraid, I got up and looked as hard as I could into the darkness of the room. I heard — or thought that I heard - certain low sounds that came, from time to time, through the pauses in the storm.
In spite of its wide swing (which was now thirty feet or more), and its great force, it would not, for several minutes, cut into my flesh. At this thought, I paused. I dared not think further. I watched the blade as it flew above me. Down — steadily down it came. To the right — to the left - far and wide — with the terrible whistle of death! Down - certainly down just above my chest! I struggled violently to free my left arm. I shook and turned my head at every swing. I opened and closed my eyes as the bright blade flashed above me.
I did not know what answer to make to my friend. He admitted that much of the unhappiness which he suffered had a simple, and quite natural, origin. It was the long and severe illness of a greatly loved sister — his close companion for many 27 years — his last and only relative on earth. ' While he spoke, Lady Madeline (for that was her name) passed slowly through the room at the far end, and, without having noticed my presence, disappeared. I watched her with a surprise and deep fear that I could not account for.