Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,23

followed with a slight limp. “No, of course not. But if you have more information to impart, I do hope to return later.”

The very last thing Katherine needed to add to this investigation was more rumors. Better she keep her mouth shut until she knew precisely what had gone on at Number Four Charles Street. And that, she undoubtedly would find out.

Chapter Eight

In her hurry to depart from Mrs. Ramsey’s house, Katherine underestimated Emma’s enthusiasm. Although the dog was small, she pulled with a weight equal to three of her size, towing Katherine behind her as she yipped for the attention of the new arrivals.

As during her last visit, Pru was not the only person waiting on Katherine’s doorstep. She had brought along not only Lord Annandale, but also his manservant and Wayland. As they neared the doors, Katherine’s toes caught on a dip in the snow, and she toppled forward into the hard crust. Emma charged forward, dancing around Wayland’s shins in a shameless bid for attention. Although Katherine tried not to take it personally, it rankled her that her beloved dog had abandoned her and left her face-first in the snow. Spitting out snow, she pushed herself onto all fours.

“Och now, lass. Here ye are.” McTavish’s booming voice in her ear provided little warning before his large hands closed beneath her arms and levered her to her feet. Her face flaming, she pulled free of his hold and patted herself down.

“Goodness, Katherine! Are you hurt?” Pru asked.

“I’m in the pink of health, I assure you.” The very last thing Katherine wanted to do was draw more attention to her faults.

Thankfully, Harriet opened the door, cutting the conversation short. The guests streamed inside, with Katherine taking up the rear. As she stepped alongside Wayland, he held out her eager dog, whom she collected and held close, despite Emma’s protests.

Learning down, he softly said in her ear, “And here I thought your days of examining my shoes were over.”

Katherine glared at him before stepping past him and into the house. She had arranged to measure his shoes once for an investigation. He had been a suspect. If he hadn’t insisted on following her so closely, her perusal of his shoes would have ended there.

Harriet nursed a dark look as she retrieved the outerwear of each guest in turn, ending with Katherine. Taking in Katherine’s wet garments, she exclaimed, “Lady Katherine! What have you done to your dress?”

To say nothing of what Katherine had done to her person. Her knees still smarted from the contact with the hard snow. “Nothing. I—”

Unceremoniously, Harriet shoved the outerwear into McTavish’s arms and grasped Katherine’s elbow. “Let’s get you out of that dress at once and into something less damp.”

“I’ll be quite all right.” Katherine tugged away. She wished her friends would stop staring at her so. Despite her reputation, she wasn’t usually so clumsy. In this case, the fault lay entirely with Emma. “I’ll sit by the fire in the parlor and be dry in no time.

Dubiously, Harriet narrowed her eyes. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Now please, stop asking.”

Coming to her rescue, Wayland cleared his throat. “Perhaps tea would be in order?”

Harriet nodded, reclaiming the cloaks from McTavish’s arms. He seemed reluctant to give them up. “What sort of man would I be if I let a fine wee lass like yerself carry all this?”

“The usual sort.”

McTavish tsked under his breath and turned to follow her despite her obvious rebuttal. She paused at the entry to the narrow corridor door leading toward the kitchen and shuffled the outerwear onto her hip. With a cocked eyebrow, she jerked her chin toward the parlor. “Why don’t you wait in there?”

“And leave you to do all the work on yer own?”

“Leave me to do my job? Yes.” Harriet’s voice shared none of the warmth in his.

McTavish spread his hands, adjusting a cloth sack beneath his arm. “Och now, I’m afraid that will not do.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

He winked at her, flashing his infamous grin. “Are ye sure? I’m certain there are many ways I can be of use to ye.”

“Not in the least.” She turned on her heel, retreating down the corridor, but he followed.

“As it so happens, I’ll have to entreat ye for the use of your kitchen. Lorna sent me with scones for Lady Katherine to try.”

“Scones?” Harriet stopped short, drawing herself up and turning to face him. The expression on her face could have withered the paint on the walls.

Undaunted,