Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,53

needs to change into eveningwear. Shall I carry her up to her room?”

“No. Put me down!”

Harriet, too, shook her head. “Why does she need to change clothes? Won’t those do?”

“We’re going out,” Wayland said, biting off the words.

“Where? She cannot stand.”

“She would like to,” Katherine said pointedly.

Wayland still did not put her down. If he didn’t soon, she would—

Emma barked vigorously, circling Wayland as if trying to find a way to jump into his arms as well.

“We’re going to the theater.” He quickly craned his neck down to look at Katherine directly. “And before you protest, I’ve arranged for Lady Dalhousie and her niece to accompany us as well. You will be able to spread the rumor to her directly, and once she sees the lengths you are going to match her niece despite your injury, she will certainly leave you be until you’ve healed.”

He had a great deal of faith in Lady Dalhousie. Katherine suspected that such a maneuver would earn her a day or two of respite, at best. But at the moment, she desperately craved any respite.

Grumpy, Harriet muttered, “I cannot dress her now. I’m in the middle of cooking dinner. It will burn.”

Wayland held her gaze. “I will tend it for you.”

“Can you cook?”

“I’ll manage for five minutes.”

Harriet held his gaze a moment longer before she lowered her eyes and dipped into a curtsy. “Put her in the parlor. I’ll fetch clothes from upstairs.”

“Is no one going to ask me what I think of this endeavor?”

Wayland, half turned toward the parlor, paused and met her gaze with a sardonic raise of his eyebrow. “Please, Katherine. Tell me, would you prefer to sit here all night or come out to the theater with me?”

Katherine pressed her lips together.

“Well?”

“I’m thinking.”

He shrugged, jostling her and sending a twinge of pain shooting through her ankle. “Think all you like. I have all evening.”

Katherine scowled at him. “Oh, put me down. I’ll go to the theater.”

If Katherine had considered how she would travel from the carriage into the theater box that Wayland had reserved, she might have declined. The heat of humiliation scalded her cheeks as she slouched in the corner of the box, having been carried there in a sedan chair hoisted by two footmen. She might as well announce to the world that she was helpless, and she supposed that would work perfectly with her plan. Lady Dalhousie and her niece had arrived on their heels, fussing over Katherine as she was carried up to the box with such vigor that they drew even more eyes toward them.

Fortunately, Wayland put his bulk between her and the other two women. Even he could not stifle Lady Dalhousie’s carrying voice drifting from his far side, but at least Katherine did not have to answer the woman’s questions directly.

So engrossed was she in her misery that she didn’t notice the box to her left filling up with occupants until the play began. When she turned to peer closer at the unfolding entertainment, the livery of a waiting footman caught her eye. She recognized it—and then the man in question. It was Jarrod who was in service to Lord Westing.

Wayland had arranged a box that abutted Lord Westing’s theater box! When Katherine turned to look at Wayland, his eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.

She swallowed hard, but any reply she hoped to make was drowned out by the performance below.

Unfortunately, with the performance, she could do little to catch Lord Westing’s attention. He was a short man with a receding hairline, affable in demeanor and easy with his smiles, particularly when they were directed to the young woman at his side. Katherine didn’t recognize the debutante in question, but she must be the heiress the lord hoped to marry. An older couple acted as chaperones, sitting a few seats apart but keeping a rapt attention on the pair. The older woman resembled the younger enough for Katherine to deduce that she and the man were the young lady’s parents.

Katherine paid attention to the performance with half an ear, the entire time contemplating how to wrest away Lord Westing’s attention. After all, she couldn’t discover whether or not he had killed Dr. Gammon if she didn’t speak with him! He had inherited the Westing title and estate at that point. Unlike Lord Westing’s daughter, he should have been in London this week.

By the first intermission, Katherine had concocted a devious plan that involved trying to stand and falling across the wall into