Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,24
McTavish reminded, “For the wedding breakfast.”
Scones. Katherine’s mouth watered, and her stomach gurgled. This morning, as with most of her meals, she had only picked at the unpalatable food Harriet had served. The seedcake and scones she had eaten at Lord Annandale’s house in the past had been buttery and soft, melting away on her tongue. She stared after the pair with longing.
“I’ll start a fire.”
Thus shaken from her daydream of gorging herself on scones, Katherine turned to the source of the voice. She caught no more than Wayland’s coattails as he disappeared into the customary room overlooking the street. Belatedly, she realized she was the last still standing in the entryway.
As she scampered into the parlor, she eyed the available chair. Once again, everyone had engaged in another confusing round of dividing three seats among four people. This time, Pru had left the area nearest the unlit hearth for Katherine. She had claimed the armchair, and the burly Lord Annandale perched on one arm next to her. Her protest of Wayland’s familiarity melting from her lips, Katherine pressed her hand to her mouth to withhold a giggle. They looked a sight. Katherine certainly needed to purchase more chairs.
“You can use the loveseat. It’s much better suited to you and Lord Annandale.”
Pru frowned. “But your dress…”
Katherine shrugged. “I’ll stand by the fire instead.”
“I won’t hear of it.” As Wayland knelt in front of the grate, the tinderbox in his hand, his voice was gruff.
“I beg your pardon?”
He turned his face to meet her gaze. “What sort of gentleman would I be if I allowed a lady to stand while I sat?”
“Truthfully, we’re comfortable here.”
The grimace on Lord Annandale’s face belied Pru’s words.
“You’re my guests. Sit in the loveseat.”
“No.”
Katherine raised her gaze to the ceiling and bit back a sigh. She had never met a woman more obstinate than Pru. And in this case, it was her fiancé, not Katherine, who suffered the most.
“There,” Wayland said, sliding the tinderbox onto the mantel once more as the burgeoning flame in the hearth swelled. With a satisfied look, he turned and rested his hands on his hips. “Didn’t you ask us here to discuss the investigation?” He gestured at the seat nearest the fire.
Katherine gritted her teeth but took the spot he’d indicated. Once she did, Wayland rounded the back of the loveseat and claimed the seat next to her. For Pru and Lord Annandale to sit so close was of no matter, seeing as they would shortly be married. But the very last person Katherine wanted to be pressed against from knee to shoulder was Wayland. He was…
She didn’t have the energy this morning to speculate on what he was, so she turned her attention to where it should be—the murder. “Lady Dalhousie was forthcoming on one issue regarding Dr. Gammon’s murder.”
Indignant, Pru exchanged a glance with her fiancé. “Surely Lady Dalhousie didn’t believe it to be murder.”
Katherine bit into her lower lip. She tried to put space between her and Wayland, but it was impossible on this small sofa. “She didn’t say as much in so many words, but she did provide me with a suspect.”
Lord Annandale’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth disappearing into his beard. “A suspect for what case, lass? Yer Dr. Gammon might have died in his sleep. What has Lyle said?”
Katherine gritted her teeth. “He said nothing one way or another. I haven’t spoken to him since attending the musicale.”
The Scottish lord exchanged another glance with the woman by his side.
“That doesn’t prove that there is no murder. He’s still looking into the matter. And I’m certain it must have been poison.”
None of her friends appeared to be paying her the least bit of attention. Even Wayland, who had been her staunchest ally in this case, focused his attention on the dog.
Katherine continued, “You didn’t know him. I visited with him the night before, and he had a matter weighing hard on his mind. I believe Lady Dalhousie has shed light on that matter. This is a vital clue and one we must pursue.”
Wayland patted his knee, chuckling when Emma’s first attempt to jump onto his lap resulted in her tumbling back to the floor with a thump. Shaking herself off, she reached him on the second try and rolled onto her back to show him her belly. He scratched it dutifully. “I don’t know if there is any way to know for certain what had been weighing on the doctor’s mind, Katherine. He is