Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,30
rival would never let her hear the end of it. Not to mention, she hadn’t the time, what with solving an investigation and helping Pru with her wedding plans.
“Oh. I don’t know…”
Lady Dalhousie batted away her protests. “I know you employ a man for the particulars, so I won’t trouble you with those. If you’ll just send me his direction, I’ll be happy to work out payment. But it is imperative that my niece find a husband while she is here with me in London.”
Katherine turned her gaze to the young woman, who blushed even deeper, if that were possible, and tugged up her scarf to cover her face. “I don’t know if—”
Lady Dalhousie’s voice carried as she added, “Not any man, mind you. My Genevieve will marry no one save the man who is worthy of her. I trust you will be able to find such a man.”
Katherine didn’t have time for this. No time to find Miss Ball a husband, however convivial she seemed—and no time to continue blathering on with Lady Dalhousie! She had an investigation to conduct. With Pru’s attention distracted by the upcoming wedding, she didn’t trust her friend to ask the right questions. In fact, she wouldn’t put it past Pru to rush the interview and uncover no information whatsoever about Lord Westing or his daughter.
“Lady Dalhousie, I’m not certain that I’m the best woman for the job. Have you asked Mrs. Fairchild? She has married her clients to dukes and princes. I’m certain she would be more than willing to pair your niece with a fine, upstanding gentleman…”
“No.” Lady Dalhousie sniffed and adjusted the collar of her cloak. “I don’t trust Mrs. Fairchild’s judgment when compared to yours. Besides, don’t you owe me for all help I’ve given in the past?” Her tone alluded that she suspected Katherine’s true aim in asking questions whenever a crime arose and that it had nothing to do with a love of gossip, as Katherine pretended.
Katherine opened her mouth to argue further, but shut it again. Yes, Lady Dalhousie had been of some help the previous evening when Katherine had asked after her investigation. But the old woman had also actively hindered the burglary investigation in Bath. Nevertheless, arguing would waste time—and with Lady Dalhousie’s suspicions aroused, Katherine didn’t want to risk alienating her. On a whim, Lady Dalhousie could spread rumors detrimental to Katherine’s career.
That same career was now in jeopardy if she didn’t extricate herself to further the investigation herself. Harriet had separated the footman from the group, who followed her like a lost puppy as she guided him out of earshot. At this rate, Pru would ask the questions without her, and Katherine couldn’t have that.
In a wistful voice, Miss Ball added, “I know Mrs. Fairchild has a reputation, but I’m not looking for the sort of advantageous match she cares to arrange. I want a love match, Lady Katherine. Nothing less will do.”
Katherine had heard women use that tone of longing before. Her sisters, for one—and she had seen them both married within months. Miss Ball was much older than most women who chose to marry, and Katherine saw no hesitation in her declaration. Miss Ball knew precisely what she wanted, even if, for most, it was no more than fantasy. Love was certainly a fantasy for all of Mrs. Fairchild’s clients. However, every woman Katherine had ever matched had been in love as well.
Reluctantly, Katherine warned, “Matters of the heart are rarely quick and never easy.”
With the scarf still pulled up over her nose, Miss Ball shook her head. Her eyes widened. “I don’t mind waiting. I’ll wait until I’m forty if I must. I want… I want the love your friends, Lord and Lady Annandale, have. I could tell from the moment they walked into the room that they were smitten with each other. I want a man to look at me like that.”
Katherine couldn’t say no, not the least because she didn’t have the time to tarry. “I haven’t the time to discuss the matter now, but perhaps we can meet later on today. Have you accepted any invitations this afternoon?”
Lady Dalhousie stood straighter. “Yes, of course. Our social calendar is full.” As her niece groped for her sleeve with eyes wide with alarm, the old lady added, “But I’ll see that an invitation is sent to you as well. We will speak with you later, and don’t forget to send your man’s direction to me.”
“I won’t,” Katherine promised. “Until