Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,11
question. Whatever you need.” Leaning forward, he added in a loud whisper, “Are you certain you won’t need my kidnapping expertise?”
Katherine glared at him, but it was probably watery. Judging from his devious smile, it had no effect at all.
Harriet arrived a moment later with the tea tray and several slices of seedcake. As they passed them around, the conversation devolved into other wedding minutiae. Katherine tried to be attentive, but the longer the wedding discussion prevailed, the more her mind wandered. By the time Harriet left to fetch further vittles for tea several hours later, Katherine had abandoned the conversation in favor of sneaking looks at the window to watch those passing by. Every time Emma jumped up and yipped, Katherine held her breath and hoped that Lyle was about to knock on her door.
She wasn’t as lucky. Nor did mulling over the scene she’d found at Dr. Gammon’s house bring her any peace. In fact, it only made her reject the thought of further food despite how little she’d eaten today.
“Are you sure you don’t want something more? You’ve barely touched your seedcake.”
Katherine returned to the present with a frown. Had Harriet baked the seedcake herself?
Pru laid her hand over her stomach, turning a bit green. She waved her hand. “Oh, I couldn’t. We came from the townhouse, where Lorna was making… scones. Yes, scones. A dreadful amount.” Her gaze darkened, quickening along with her words. “We’re trying different flavors to see which one we should have at the wedding breakfast. You know, maybe we should bring some here so Katherine can give her opinion on the flavor.”
Lord Annandale shrugged and helped himself to the last corner of his seedcake. He took an extraordinarily long time to chew, nodding as he did so.
Brightly, Pru met Katherine’s gaze with a wooden smile. “There you go. We’ll bring over a few scones. But now… I think we ought to leave. After all, I still have to relay these plans to my mother before tonight’s event. You’re still coming to Lady Dalhousie’s musicale tonight, aren’t you, Katherine?”
Katherine grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was find herself in the company of the most notorious gossip in London while still reeling from the death of a friend.
“Lady Dalhousie’s niece is performing. This is the first event she’s had since her fateful ice ball. Be sure to wear something flattering, not…” Pru wrinkled her nose as she waved a hand toward Katherine’s attire this morning. “Nothing gray or—heaven forbid—green. It doesn’t suit your complexion.”
Katherine managed a thin smile, but this time, she didn’t bother arguing. It wasn’t as though anything she said would change Pru’s mind, anyway.
She stood to escort her guests out of the house. Wrapped in the pelisse Harriet produced, Pru sailed out the door first, followed closely by her future husband as he escorted her along the shoveled path toward the waiting carriage. The last to leave, Wayland stuffed his hands in the pockets of his greatcoat and turned to face her in the threshold. His breath misted in front of his face as fingers of the winter chill crept inside.
“I know it isn’t your first choice of entertainment, but think of it this way: if anyone will know the secret your Dr. Gammon was hiding, it will be Lady Dalhousie.” Donning his topper, he nodded to Katherine and followed in his friends’ wake.
As Katherine watched him go, her hand still on the latch of the open door, a tingle of enthusiasm swept through her. Apparently, Wayland hadn’t been as indifferent to the investigation as he appeared. If he thought the matter was worth investigating, that must mean her instincts were correct. There was murder afoot, and she would get to the bottom of it as soon as possible, starting with what she would glean at Lady Dalhousie’s musicale. Wayland was certainly correct about that—if there was any secret to be had, the old gossip would know it.
Chapter Four
As Katherine shut the door, she noticed a familiar lanky figure striding down the street. He had the collar of his greatcoat turned up against his neck, his ginger locks brushing against the top. Head down, he didn’t glance in her direction as he made his way to Number Four Charles Street. The door swung open again as Katherine stepped out after him. The sole of her slipper slid across the slick step. Belatedly, she recalled that she still wore her house clothes.
Another moment wouldn’t hinder her, would it? Hoping not