Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,29
cobblestone between the two buildings ran parallel from this market square to a more genteel street. And who happened to pass the mouth of the alley on the far side at the same time as her? Lady Dalhousie.
“Oh no. We haven’t got the time for this.”
Oblivious to her reluctance, Lady Dalhousie steered a young woman into the alley and hurried to meet Katherine.
“I’ll talk to the maid before she walks too far.”
Katherine turned, swiping for Pru’s sleeve, but she fell short. As her friend and maid hastened away together toward their targets, Katherine was left standing on the open street, undefended from Lady Dalhousie’s calculating approach.
If Lady Dalhousie learned she was asking questions of Lord Westing’s servants, she would no doubt spread the information to all and sundry. No, Katherine had to be rid of her before she learned of her true purpose in the market. Foolishly, Katherine had considered herself safe here, among servants rather than peers, and hadn’t donned a disguise, merely a cloak to ward away the chill.
Lady Dalhousie’s breath puffed in front of her face in quick bursts. Her cheeks were ruby with the cold. The color extended down her neck, which had been left open to display her infamous necklace. She clamped onto Katherine’s arm. “Lady Katherine, my dear. How curious to see you out and about. I thought you had taken ill.”
That had been the excuse she had given to leave Lady Dalhousie’s musicale the evening before. And she’d left with such stealth that she had not even bidden the hostess goodbye—she had been far too fearful of getting caught in the old woman’s chattering web.
“I wasn’t feeling quite the thing yesterday, but I am much recovered today.”
Lady Dalhousie clucked under her tongue. “You left so quickly last night, I scarcely had the chance to speak with you.”
An ill feeling tightened Katherine’s stomach as she turned her gaze toward the young woman at Lady Dalhousie’s side. Although Katherine guessed the woman was over five years Katherine’s senior, the woman embodied maidenhood. She was thin and long-fingered, dressed in a pale blue pelisse that rose to her chin. A scarf covered most of her face, leaving only the young woman’s eyes on display. However, they so resembled Lady Dalhousie’s that there could be no mistake. Katherine’s stomach twisted in on itself. “Would this be your niece, Lady Dalhousie?”
The old gossip swung her hands briskly through the air. At least she was no longer attempting to choke off the blood flow to Katherine’s fingers. “Yes, this is Genevieve. Hers was the delightful talent you heard last evening. If you stayed long enough for her to play.”
Katherine gave her a pained but polite smile. “I’m afraid my headache came on rather suddenly, but I was able to hear most of the first song. You’re very talented, Miss…”
The young woman tugged down her scarf to reveal a pert nose and chin. “Miss Ball. Genevieve Ball.”
“Well, Miss Ball, I understand why your aunt has been singing your praises for so long.”
To Katherine’s surprise, the young woman blushed scarlet at the compliment. Her smile dwarfed her face and seemed to light the gray day. “Thank you, Lady Katherine. I’m gratified that you found such joy in my playing despite your headache.”
“If not for the crush of people, I’m certain I would have stayed longer,” Katherine answered.
The young woman seemed pleased. Katherine braced herself, half expecting that one or the other would launch into a sordid tale exalting all of the suitors Miss Ball collected from her performances. Lady Dalhousie loved nothing more than to spread a good rumor, especially one to boost her standing, and her pretty niece seemed to be ample fodder for that. However, the old woman restrained herself.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I’m happy to have encountered you today, if I’m honest. You see, I was hoping to find a moment last night to secure your services.”
Katherine’s attention wandered briefly across the market square, easily picking out Pru’s tall form as she stood with the maid and footman. Despite Harriet’s claims, they hadn’t yet separated the two. Good—they might not have asked the questions yet, and Katherine might have a chance of rejoining them. If only she was able to convince Lady Dalhousie to speak to her another time…
The woman’s words registered. “My what?”
Lady Dalhousie narrowed her eyes. “Your services. As a matchmaker.”
Katherine’s stomach, already tied in knots, plummeted into her shoes. Tarnation! Mrs. Fairchild’s prediction had been spot on. If Katherine took this job, her