House of Werth

It is not easy being the most supernatural family in England. Nell talks to the dead; Lord Werth is too often to be found out in the churchyard at the dead of night; and the less said about Lord Bedgberry, the better. Only Miss Gussie Werth has missed out on the family curse. She sups on chocolate, not blood; she's blissfully oblivious to specters (except for Great-Aunt Honoria, of course); and she hasn't the smallest inclination to turn into a beast upon the full moon and go ravening about the countryside.

Winter has come to Werth Towers, and brought a deal of trouble with it. Not that any of it is the fault of Miss Gussie Werth. To be a one-woman catastrophe might be seen as a misfortune, but really, there can be no hope of a cure.

Winter has come to Werth Towers, and brought a deal of trouble with it. Not that any of it is the fault of Miss Gussie Werth. To be a one-woman catastrophe might be seen as a misfortune, but really, there can be no hope of a cure. What with murderous Books on the rampage, Lady Maundevyle brewing plans for Christmas, and a couple of dragons on the loose, a quiet life is not likely to be had. Still, in times of crisis, there is always Lord Felix. The disreputable old revenant might have a few odd ideas; but you’re at Werth Towers, now. The merely unusual comes as a matter of course.

It’s winter at the Werth residence, and someone has turned up dead. Not that this is unusual. There’s Great-Aunt Honoria on the premises, after all. Only this corpse is freshly dead, and nobody knows how the lady came to be leaking blood all over Lady Werth's best parlour. The disastrous Miss Gussie confesses herself delighted, for nothing enlivens a dull week in February like a mysterious murder. And the culprit really ought to be discovered, for the circumstances suggest Lord Bedgberry might have had something to do with it…