Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,56
from her. “Give it a minute.”
I’d rather not. Katherine clenched her teeth tighter to keep from giving voice to the childish refrain. Instead, she seethed, her fingers clenched around the glass of port in her hand. It might relax her, if only she sipped. She forced herself to swallow a mouthful of the sweet liquid.
“I don’t think it’s helping at all. I can feel my ankle turning numb.”
That launched him from his seat with alacrity. He haphazardly left his tumbler on the low table before he crossed to her and snatched the ice off her ankle. He set the dripping cheesecloth on the floor next to the stool and grazed his fingers against her skin. “The swelling has gone down. Your color looks good.”
For now. Katherine was in such a cross mood that she didn’t trust herself to say anything. Wayland was only trying to help. Even if what she wanted most was to be left alone.
No, not alone. She needed her friends here if they were to apprehend Dr. Gammon’s killer. Why had she decided to go out tonight, of all nights? Even being carried to and from the carriage hadn’t saved her ankle entirely.
Emma sprang to her feet, barking and leaping off the loveseat in pursuit of the door. Pru and Lord Annandale must finally have arrived. Evening had fallen hours ago.
“Would you like some more port?” Wayland asked. “Or laudanum?”
Katherine shook her head. “I need my wits about me tonight.”
He covered her ankle, his hands lingering around the bruised area of her skin. Rather than cause her pain, his light touch chased away the numbness left by the ice.
The door opened, evidenced by Emma’s claws clicking against the floor as she danced around the visitors’ feet. Harriet murmured as she took the overcoats of the new arrivals.
Wayland straightened just as Pru entered the room. She stopped short in the door. Her eyes widened as she lifted her hand to her lips. “Katherine, I must say, I expected to find you here alone.”
Gruffly, Wayland answered, “We went out earlier. It seemed a fool’s errand to leave and return again.”
Pru raised her eyebrows, but she held the curiosity evidenced in her eyes between her pressed lips. When her fiancé joined her in the room, he greeted Wayland warmly. Lord Annandale, at least, didn’t appear to think anything untoward of Wayland’s presence.
Sweat trickled behind Katherine’s ear at the considering look Pru gave her. As the two men pumped arms, Katherine blurted, “We went to the theater in pursuit of alibis for the investigation. Our box was next to Lord Westing’s box, you see.”
Amused, Pru and Lord Annandale exchanged a glance. Smirking, Pru asked, “And did you find anything?”
Katherine raised her chin. She felt altogether too small, sitting in the armchair with everyone looming around her. “I did, in fact. Lord Westing was out of town at the time of Dr. Gammon’s death. He could not have killed him.”
Pru made a small, dismissive noise in the back of her throat. “That’s one less person to expect to materialize tonight, then.”
She didn’t sound convinced that anyone would come at all. That much was particularly clear when she crossed to the loveseat and took the place recently vacated by Wayland. Her fiancé followed her.
Katherine sat up, wincing when she jostled her ankle in the process. “You can’t sit here. I must be here alone when the killer arrives! Otherwise, you’ll only scare him off. Not to mention, a murderer will hardly be likely to confess to the matter in a room full of strangers.”
“Don’t fuss,” Pru chided. “We will move to our hiding places whenever someone arrives. You’ll have your confession.”
Katherine would have argued further, but Harriet puttered into the room bearing a tray of seedcake and a pastry concoction she had made herself. They looked tidy, but Katherine reserved judgement until she’d tasted the result.
“I’ll return with the tea.” As she reached the threshold, she tried to sidestep McTavish’s form, his bulk eating up the space. He stepped at the same time, and she nearly collided with him. She stepped to the other side, impeded there as well. With a bow fit to deliver to a queen, he stepped aside to let her pass. She did without comment, her shoulders stiff.
Wayland broke the tension. “If we’re to stay in here, I suspect we will require more chairs.”
“Try the breakfast room down the corridor door,” Katherine advised. “I keep two at the table.”
Wayland and McTavish returned within moments, each carrying a wooden chair