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A Spear of Summer Grass
Deanna Raybourn
Don’t believe the stories you have heard about me. I have never killed anyone, and I have never stolen another woman’s husband.Oh, if I find one lying around unattended, I might climb on, but I never took one that didn’t want taking. And I never meant to go to Africa.“Raybourn expertly evokes late-nineteenth-century colonial India in this rollicking good read, distinguished by its delightful lady detective and her colorful family.” —Booklist on Dark Road to Darjeeling
Paris, 1923
The daughter of a scandalous mother, Delilah Drummond is already notorious, even amongst Paris society. But her latest scandal is big enough to make even her oft-married mother blanch. Delilah is exiled to Kenya and her favorite stepfather’s savannah manor house until gossip subsides.
Fairlight is the crumbling, sun-bleached skeleton of a faded African dream, a world where dissolute expats are bolstered by gin and jazz records, cigarettes and safaris. As mistress of this wasted estate, Delilah falls into the decadent pleasures of society.
Against the frivolity of her peers, Ryder White stands in sharp contrast. As foreign to Delilah as Africa, Ryder becomes her guide to the complex beauty of this unknown world. Giraffes, buffalo, lions and elephants roam the shores of Lake Wanyama amid swirls of red dust. Here, life is lush and teeming – yet fleeting and often cheap.
Amidst the wonders – and dangers – of Africa, Delilah awakes to a land out of all proportion: extremes of heat, darkness, beauty and joy that cut to her very heart. Only when this sacred place is profaned by bloodshed does Delilah discover what is truly worth fighting for – and what she can no longer live without. Don’t believe the stories you have heard about me.
I have never killed anyone, and I have never stolen another woman’s husband. Oh, if I find one lying around unattended, I might climb on, but I never took one that didn’t want taking.
And I never meant to go to Africa.
Praise for Deanna Raybourn
“With a strong and unique voice,
Deanna Raybourn creates unforgettable characters
in a richly detailed world. This is storytelling at its most compelling.”
—Nora Roberts, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“[A] perfectly executed debut… Deft historical detailing
[and] sparkling first-person narration.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review, on Silent in the Grave
“A riveting drama that makes page turning obligatory.
A very fine debut effort from Deanna Raybourn.”
—Bookreporter.com on Silent in the Grave
“A sassy heroine and a masterful, secretive hero. Fans of romantic mystery could ask no more – except the promised sequel.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Silent in the Grave
“This debut novel has one of the most clever endings I’ve seen.”
—Karen Harper, New York Times bestselling author,
on Silent in the Grave
“Deceptively civilized and proper, Silent in the Grave has undercurrents of nefarious deeds, secrets and my favorite, poisons.
An excellent debut novel.”
—Maria V. Snyder, author of Poison Study, on Silent in the Grave
“There are some lovely twists in the plot
and a most satisfactory surprise ending. I hope to read more
from Deanna Raybourn in time to come.”
—Valerie Anand, author of The Siren Queen
written under the name of Fiona Buckley, on Silent in the Grave
“Fans and new readers alike will welcome this sparkling sequel
to Raybourn’s debut Victorian mystery, Silent in the Grave…
the complex mystery, a delightfully odd collection of characters
and deft period details produce a rich and funny read.”
—Publishers Weekly on Silent in the Sanctuary
“Raybourn takes a leisurely approach to the meat of the
complex story, meticulously detailing the many colorful characters and creepy Victorian-era setting. But once the game’s afoot,
the pace picks up nicely. This is an excellent way
to while away a couple of cold evenings.”
—RT Book Reviews on Silent in the Sanctuary
“Following Silent in the Grave and Silent in the Sanctuary,
the newest book in the Lady Julia Grey series has a lot to measure up to’and it does.… A great choice for mystery,
historical fiction and/or romance readers.”
—Library Journal on Silent on the Moor
“Raybourn…delightfully evokes the language, tension
and sweeping grandeur of 19th-century gothic novels.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Dead Travel Fast
“Raybourn skillfully balances humor and earnest, deadly drama, creating well-drawn characters and a rich setting.”
—Publishers Weekly on Dark Road to Darjeeling
“Raybourn expertly evokes late-nineteenth-century colonial India
in this rollicking good read, distinguished by its
delightful lady detective and her colorful family.”
—Booklist on Dark Road to Darjeeling
“Beyond the development of Julia’s detailed world,
her boisterous family and dashing husband, this book
provides a clever mystery and unique perspective on the Victorian era through the eyes of an unconventional lady.”
—Library Journal on The Dark Enquiry
A Spear of Summer Grass
Deanna Raybourn
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
For Valerie Gray, gifted editor and maker of magic.
I am a better writer for knowing you.
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u978884e7-438f-5a88-9e9a-4e0b612f04f2)
Chapter 2 (#uf1d82dbd-59f4-5867-aa86-269547c8c8c3)
Chapter 3 (#u1e0804dd-d0e4-5e58-ae25-b5d2276cea40)
Chapter 4 (#uaece5695-de9d-5bbe-9dbb-ad074142de39)
Chapter 5 (#ubaaeabed-684f-5816-a10f-261396b5f001)
Chapter 6 (#u4cbe643c-30dc-58b8-827f-6edb350680fa)
Chapter 7 (#ud7151884-051f-537a-996a-035e5bedc48c)
Chapter 8 (#uaaecec71-f0c2-5aef-974e-17d31933b8b3)
Chapter 9 (#u8804aa1d-068b-5434-9054-546c4396d7c2)
Chapter 10 (#uf90806d1-b4ed-54a5-83ec-26ddb893c640)
Chapter 11 (#ub690f275-50ae-56ae-9887-4db695722ab5)
Chapter 12 (#ub9e10336-ba65-5f1d-b30c-25160acef74b)
Chapter 13 (#u2b0c0e30-4b24-586c-842a-b00189e294c6)
Chapter 14 (#u30205f9a-7948-5036-9c1e-f1b100cc7fff)
Chapter 15 (#udeebfeff-46c3-587a-a8c2-5c4eb377e141)
Chapter 16 (#u84678c6b-1f08-534c-b4f8-4aec27a362de)
Chapter 17 (#uf3d15f39-27ba-5f81-a13f-de557da43399)
Chapter 18 (#u0e67cee8-e736-58dc-bc23-825236ca020d)
Chapter 19 (#u89af482b-c427-5532-948b-a3bde05e1250)
Chapter 20 (#u54dd7d37-c6ab-5337-a4f8-5da7472e102e)
Chapter 21 (#uf45299a5-9344-5718-b328-9f43ca37dec1)
Chapter 22 (#u33b05592-77a3-509c-b495-f25476796fbf)
Chapter 23 (#u2f6ecbb8-bfaf-5317-9835-3ed608ace9fe)
Chapter 24 (#u26a6899f-26d6-5087-bea9-2e63c2cf5006)
Chapter 25 (#u979aeaa7-38b5-54da-9e27-d5f83df4b022)
Acknowledgements (#u53aa5359-9765-5ac1-b3e7-3239eeeca77d)
Questions for Discussion (#u56ad6dac-50f6-52c9-9653-154d71804465)
1
Don’t believe the stories you have heard about me. I have never killed anyone, and I have never stolen another woman’s husband. Oh, if I find one lying around unattended, I might climb on, but I never took one that didn’t want taking. And I never meant to go to Africa. I blame it on the weather. It was a wretched day in Paris, grey and gloomy and spitting with rain, when I was summoned to my mother’s suite at the Hotel de Crillon. I had dressed carefully for the occasion, not because Mossy would care – my mother is curiously unfussy about such things. But I knew wearing something chic would make me feel a little better about the ordeal to come. So I put on a divine little Molyneux dress in scarlet silk with a matching cloche, topped it with a clever chinchilla stole and left my suite, boarded the lift and rode up two floors to her rooms.
My mother’s Swedish maid answered the door with a scowl.
“Good afternoon, Ingeborg. I hope you’ve been well?”
The scowl deepened. “Your mother is worried about you,” she informed me coldly. “And I am worried about your mother.” Ingeborg had been worrying about my mother since before I was born. The fact that I had been a breech baby was enough to put me in her black books forever.
“Oh, don’t fuss, Ingeborg. Mossy is strong as an ox. All her people live to be a hundred or more.”
Ingeborg gave me another scowl and ushered me into the main room of the suite. Mossy was there, of course, holding court in the centre of a group of gentlemen. This was nothing new. Since her debut in New Orleans some thirty years before she had never been at a loss for masculine attention. She was standing at the fireplace, one elbow propped on the marble mantelpiece, dressed for riding and exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke as she talked.
