From Vows and Villainy by Elizabeth Penney. Copyright © 2025 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.
Chapter 2
“Molly, are you all right?” Daisy crouched down beside me, her face creased with concern.
“Not really.” I rested my head on my knees and closed my eyes. “I think I heard . . . whatever happened to Sir Nigel last night. A shout, followed by the sound of something falling into the water.”
“Oh, how awful.” Her blue eyes widened. “You definitely should tell the police.”
“I plan to.” My laugh was dry. “And won’t they be surprised that I’m involved in another mysterious death? Not.”
You might say that I’d been a thorn in the side of the Cambridge homicide team. And if this was murder, they’d certainly be called in.
“You know what else is strange?” I said. “If I did hear Sir Nigel? No one reported him missing. You’d think his wife would have noticed he wasn’t in their room.”
Sir Nigel’s wife, Belinda Stevens, was the other lead actor in the troupe. They oversaw the productions together.
“Good point,” Daisy said. “Where is she right now?”
“No idea.” By the time I’d come down to breakfast a couple of hours ago, everyone else had scattered. The troupe of six, including Alan, were all staying here. Until now, Alan had been running the family enterprises overseas and in London. He was on leave for a couple of months now that his father, Lord Graham, was well enough to step back into the chairman role. To my surprise, if not his family’s, he’d joined the troupe. Apparently he’d always loved acting and had been in a lot of plays while at Oxford.
Daisy touched my arm, directing my attention to the second-floor rooms. One of the casement windows, a few down from me, was opening.
A blond woman stepped out onto the small balcony. Isla St. James, another member of the troupe. I’d thought they were all out this morning. Well, except for Sir Nigel, obviously.
Isla wasn’t terribly tall or physically imposing, yet she definitely had a presence. Holding her head high, she moved closer to the balcony rail, staring down at us like a noblewoman surveying a group of peasants. I was sure her demeanor translated well to the stage, practically commanding the audience to notice her.
Voices drifted our way, accompanied by the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Lady Asha and several officers were approaching, followed by two medics pushing a gurney.
With a groan, I recognized the officer walking beside Lady Asha. Sergeant Gita Adhikari. Second-in-command on the murder team, she was a nemesis of sorts for me. While I got along pretty well with her superior officer, Sean Ryan, Gita regarded me as a nuisance and a meddler. My only defense was that I hadn’t tried to get involved in murder cases. It just seemed to happen. Like right now, for example.
Gita pushed her sunglasses up as she drew closer, surveying the scene. Her gaze skipped over me and then returned, honing in like a laser.
“Miss Kimball.” The rest of the sentence was unspoken. What are you doing here?
I held my ground. Well, didn’t move my bum an inch off the grass. “Hello, Sergeant Adhikari. How are you?” She didn’t respond to the pleasantry, instead marched past me to the edge of the moat, where she pointed. “You. What are you doing?” She was addressing Alan, who was still standing beside the body, water lapping around his chest.
Apparently she played bad cop with everyone, including a member of Parliament and heir to a magnificent estate. I admit that made me feel a tiny bit better.
“I’m making sure Sir—the body doesn’t drift,” Alan called back. “Can I get out now? I’m rather cold and wet.”
“That’s my son, Alan,” Lady Asha explained. “He went in to see if Sir Nigel was still alive. We couldn’t tell from here and if he could have been revived . . .”
Gita nodded. “Go ahead and come out,” she ordered. Glancing around, she asked, “Who was first to find the deceased?”
I lifted a hand.
The sergeant snorted, conveying that she wasn’t surprised. “A few quick questions now, Miss Kimball, then a full statement later.” She gestured for me to get up and move to a spot off to one side. Then she directed the officers and medics to retrieve the body and scout the area for clues.
Happily, a familiar face accompanied Gita to our interview. I’d met the pleasant and efficient Constable Johnson on an earlier case and had liked her. “How are you, Miss Kimball?” she asked, her blue eyes sincere. “Quite a shock on a beautiful June morning, I’m sure.”
“It was,” I said. “At first I thought he was acting.” They both stared at me in puzzlement. “Ophelia, floating in the water—” Gita gave a brief headshake, as if rejecting a flight of fancy. Stung, I dug my heels in. “That’s the only place in the moat where water lilies grow. Ophelia is often depicted with water lilies around her. Like in the John Everett Millais painting?”
“Oh, yeah,” Constable Johnson said. “That rings a bell.”
It had for me as well, triggering a flash of insight. “I bet the whole thing was staged.” Had the killer been making a statement? Implying that Sir Nigel had played his final role? For me, this was a clue that his death wasn’t an accident.
Constable Johnson tapped away on her tablet, taking this all down while Gita eyed me speculatively. She always kept her cards close to the vest. “Tell us what happened next.”
I took them through the sequence of events, which wasn’t terribly long or complicated. Our walk in the garden, the discovery, Alan’s attempt to help him, the arrival of the police.
“Is there anything else?” Gita asked smoothly, signaling with her body language that she was ready to move on.
“Yes.” They looked at me in inquiry and I forced the words out, wincing. “I might have overheard Sir Nigel’s murder.” Constable Johnson gave me a concerned look and I shook my head, indicating I was okay. Sort of.
“Cause of death hasn’t been ruled yet,” Gita snapped, to put me in my place. “But do go on.”
From Vows and Villainy by Elizabeth Penney. Copyright © 2025 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.
The Cambridge Bookshop #5
Vows and Villainy is the fifth book in Elizabeth Penney's delightful Cambridge Bookshop series set in Cambridge, England, where celebrations are about to commence.
It’s wedding season in Cambridge, and Molly Kimball is thrilled that it's almost time for her best friend's special day. With the help of her boyfriend Kieran Scott, she is determined to be the best maid of honor for Daisy and Tim. Daisy’s heart is set upon a Shakespeare-themed wedding to be held at Hazelhurst House, Kieran’s family’s home. The Scotts are also hosting a Shakespeare troupe for the summer, and the actors have kindly agreed to be part of the festivities.
But all goes awry with the discovery of Sir Nigel Peck, a famous actor with a checkered past and present-day misdeeds, floating dead in the moat with flowers strewn around him, à la Ophelia. When Kieran’s brother Alan becomes a top suspect, Molly and company must investigate to uncover the ugly truth behind this picturesque scene . . . before more bodies pile up.
Can Molly solve the murder before Daisy and Tim say “I do”?
Mystery Amateur Sleuth | Mystery Cozy [ St. Martin's Press, On Sale: November 25, 2025, Mass Market Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9781250388469 / eISBN: 9781250388476 ]
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May in this mystery
Elizabeth Penney is an author, entrepreneur, and local food advocate living in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. In addition to writing full-time, she operates a micro farm, a challenge in that climate! Elements that often appear in her novels include small towns, past/present mysteries, and the domestic arts. Elizabeth grew up in Maine, where family still lives, and she draws inspiration from the state’s timeless landscape and rich heritage.
Elizabeth's writing credits include over twenty mysteries, short stories, and hundreds of business articles. A former small business consultant, banker, and nonprofit executive, she holds a BS and an MBA.
She loves walking in the woods, kayaking on quiet ponds, trying new recipes, and feeding family and friends. Oh, and pampering the only child still at home, a very demanding Siamese cat.
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