Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,22
room always seemed to put her at ease. True to her word, Mrs. Ramsey had laid out a platter of seedcake and the tea service. However, she only had one cup. She rectified that within moments.
When Katherine sat with the cup of tea warming her palms soothingly, she felt the tension ease from her shoulders. For a moment, the previous day caught up with her, and she wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes. But she was not at home, and she couldn’t afford to sink back into the overstuffed armchair. She perched on the edge, keeping an eye on Emma, lest she get up to no good.
“Quite the stir we’ve had over the past couple days, haven’t we?” Mrs. Ramsey asked as she twirled her spoon around her teacup. She tapped the utensil delicately on the edge of the cup and set it down before lifting the brew to her lips. The porcelain scarcely kissed her mouth before she lowered it again. “Were you able to make heads or tails of what business all those men had at Dr. Gammon’s house?”
Katherine shrugged noncommittally. “In a way. Dr. Gammon was found dead in his study.”
“Yes, I’ve heard.”
“Then I’m afraid you know as much as I do. As far as I know, Bow Street is still investigating. It must have happened during the night. I don’t suppose you saw anyone lurking about?”
Pursing her lips, Mrs. Ramsey gave Katherine a speaking look. “You mean, aside from you? I saw you slipping out of Dr. Gammon’s garden late that night. You have a very distinctive figure.”
Katherine smiled ruefully. There weren’t many women as tall as she, to be certain. “I promise you he was still alive when I left. I would never harm Dr. Gammon.”
“Of course not!” Mrs. Ramsey pressed her palm over her bosom. “You don’t mean to suggest that he—”
Katherine raised her hands. As Emma took the newfound freedom in stride and lunged for the seedcake on the table, Katherine fumbled for the leash and pulled her up short. “I don’t mean to imply anything. I only want to know what happened. Then you saw no one? No carriage?”
Mrs. Ramsey shook her head, the curls by her cheeks dancing. “There was certainly no carriage, and no one I noticed on the back path, either, aside from yourself. I’ve been up these past two evenings for half the night. My gout has inflamed again and inflicts too much pain to let me sleep. I spend most of my nights in this parlor.” She nodded toward the window facing the street. “I would have noticed if someone passed.”
Katherine sighed. She covered the sound with a hearty gulp of her tea, lukewarm. As she set it and its saucer on the table, she fought not to make a face. “You’re right. Perhaps my imagination is running away with me.”
With a harrumph, Mrs. Ramsey helped herself to a bite of seedcake. She dusted off her fingers over the plate and said, “This isn’t the first time you’ve asked me some pointed questions. Why was it that you were investigating Lord Conyers?” The older woman’s eyes gleamed with mischief that made Katherine’s mouth dry. “I thought you were a matchmaker, but surely you weren’t trying to match Dr. Gammon, a man with grown children.”
“No, of course not. I was only there because Emma wasn’t feeling quite the thing.”
“Is that so? And now?”
Katherine’s heart hammered painfully in the base of her throat. Even though she didn’t need the ruse of her matchmaking to open doors for her in this investigation, she didn’t want to have them locked up tight should someone learn she was a detective. Detectives, such as those at Bow Street, were looked down upon for their profession, and for a woman like her to engage in what was seen as a man’s duty… She didn’t live with her father any longer, but her reputation might still have repercussions.
Out of the corner of her eye, a carriage rolled past. Emma gave a half-hearted bark before presumably recognizing the vehicle and moving on to more interesting pursuits. Katherine got to her feet, gathering the leash and tugging her dog toward the door. “Speaking of carriages, I believe that looks like my friend Miss Burwick. I’m so sorry to cut this visit short, but I really must go before she bangs down the door. I cannot keep the future Marchioness of Annandale waiting, can I?”
Mrs. Ramsey stood, as well, more unsteady on her feet as she