Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,20
the mantel, Pru asked, “Did she have anything interesting to impart?”
“Who, Mrs. Fairchild?”
“No. Lady Dalhousie!” Pru shook her head, impatient. “What would I care for what Mrs. Fairchild had to say?”
Katherine glanced around, half certain the rival matchmaker was still hanging on her every word. Instead, the only person of note stepping into earshot was Wayland. Somehow, he’d managed to liberate himself from Lady Dalhousie’s company. A man of many talents, he was. He lifted a sardonic brow, a speaking look that promised more words in the future.
Katherine turned her back on him. “I did learn something from our hostess, but perhaps this isn’t the best place to impart it.” The voices and music, which had soothed her upon first entering the room, now reached a pinnacle that drilled into her temples. She rubbed one and caught Lord Annandale’s eye. “You know, perhaps I’m not feeling up to staying this evening, after all.”
“You can’t leave now,” Pru protested.
That, Katherine knew altogether too well. She grimaced and shook her head. “I’ll stay for the first song and then make my excuses. Do you mind terribly if I take the carriage and send it back to you?”
Wayland touched her elbow gently. “What’s wrong?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s… it’s been a long day.”
He caught her eye, his expression dubious for a moment before he nodded curtly. “Then tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll have the carriage called ’round for you. Annandale can occupy the hostess for you.”
“Och, now…”
Wayland grinned, turning his hands palm up in surrender. “It was a part of your wager, was it not?”
As the conversation turned to innocent teasing between friends, relief loosened Katherine’s shoulder muscles somewhat. However, the aura of foreboding clinging to her remained, tugging at her concentration and deepening her headache.
A man she had known and liked had been killed today. And if Lady Dalhousie’s information was correct, she might have been handed a vital clue. Could Lord Westing’s daughter have killed Dr. Gammon for revenge? If so, the murders were not through. There was still one more person who had been involved in the treatment of Lord Westing’s ailments.
Where would I find Dr. Sumner?
Chapter Seven
Katherine tapped the hard crust of toast against her plate in a rhythmic echoing of her thoughts. Since returning home last night, she had gone to bed early to nurse her growing headache but still hadn’t been able to shake thoughts of Dr. Gammon’s murder. Despite Harriet’s claim to not have found any additional suspects, she was more certain than ever that her neighbor had not died peacefully in his sleep. No, Dr. Gammon had been murdered—and Katherine was determined to find the culprit. But what could the motive be?
With a sigh, she scooped eggs onto her fork and slipped the tasteless mess into her mouth. She swallowed quickly, wishing for the salt but not wanting to offend Harriet when she looked so tired. Her maid must have been up puzzling over this investigation last night too.
Katherine set her fork down on her plate with a clatter. “He cannot have killed anyone.”
Harriet looked up from her breakfast. She chewed, swallowed, and washed down the mouthful with a sip of tea. “Who, now?”
“Dr. Gammon.”
A wrinkle formed between Harriet’s eyebrows. “Lady Katherine, are you feeling quite the thing? Dr. Gammon is dead. He cannot have killed anyone.”
“I know that. I meant prior to his death. Lady Dalhousie disclosed a rumor to me last night…”
Harriet wrinkled her nose and returned to her breakfast. “Lady Dalhousie will say anything if it means she remains the center of attention. Or have you forgotten Bath? She might have concocted a story for your benefit.”
Katherine tilted her head, considering this as she chased a kipper around her plate. “She might have done, I suppose. We’ll have to confirm the information. But… she seemed adamant that I should not turn to Dr. Gammon for medical advice.”
“Oh? Why is this?”
Katherine, her head too sore upon returning to the house, hadn’t felt well enough to discuss the information she’d learned last night. In a better frame of mind now, she answered, “Lady Dalhousie informed me that Dr. Gammon might be connected with Lord Westing’s death a couple years ago. He and a man named Dr. Sumner were treating Lord Westing for… I don’t know what, precisely. However, apparently the daughter caused quite the stir regarding her father’s premature death.”
Harriet took another bite of egg and warded away Emma, who started sniffing at her shin. “I