Sherlock Holmes meets Pride and Prejudice in this bewitching and scintillating romance between an eccentric gypsy detective and a young spinster governess.
Harriet Morgan, a shy, nurturing young woman, watches the finishing school she has seen as he...
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"You just had to bring him?" St. Georgie snarled in distaste.
Nicu tossed a cracker to Kappi not bothering to argue with St. George about his choice of companions for this venture. The man glared at the fuzzy coon in disdain but said nothing further.
The black—lacquered carriage gleamed in the sunlight and the ebony horses whipped their tails, coming to a halt. Nicu stepped out of the carriage and stroked his horse's hinds and nodded at his coachman.
St. George followed and as soon as his eyes took sight of what was before him, he choked back a sudden burst of outrage. "By God!"
The school was in ruins, collapsed with few things left standing. The smell of soot and smoke lingered. Expertly, Nicu moved like a panther, smooth and steady in the long grass until he reached the rubble. Intrigued, Nicu found the debris to still be breathing the fire's heat as if it had taken a while to conquer the building.
No one could have survived such rage.
Disbelieving, St. George came up to Nicu, who began to share his speculations. "There are no rooms, no buildings to determine the area of origin."
Nicu's hand slid on some remaining decayed walls and his black worn shoes began to get covered by the ashes under his feet. St. George was close behind him and Nicu could sense the usually calm man's distress.
"How?" St. George breathed out as he covered his mouth with his arm.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Now hush and step back a little to let me observe and think. Your horror is suffocating." Nicu continued to stalk around then paused and looked back at his friend. "And only speak when spoken to."
The more Nicu examined, the more enthralled he became. Was it an accident? If not, who would burn down a finishing school? Nicu contemplated. His mind swirled with endless possibilities, but he needed to subtract and consolidate the conjectures.
"First step... find the place where it originated," Nicu mumbled.
He went into the depths of the school where the decay was mostly soot. After almost an hour of tracking in ash and rubble, Nicu knew he had finally found where the heart of the fire had been, which most likely meant it was where it had started. A lone fireplace barely stood and Nicu glided over, and his foot sank into something moist.
Immediately, he knelt down and peered into the mouth that was cracked and ready to collapse. Shinning liquid gleamed from the sun's rays and Nicu swiped his fingers along the surface, grit mingling with smoothness as he did so, and it was like sand intermingling with oil.
He lifted his index and middle finger to his nose and got a distinctive pungent oil smell. He rubbed his thumb over the liquid on his fingers that was thick yet not as thick as other oils. Puzzled, Nicu stood, and St. George came next to him.
"What did you find?"
Nicu continued to rub the disturbing substance. "Oil of some sorts with an odd smell."
