Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,57

from the breakfast room. Wayland set his between Katherine’s armchair and the loveseat, with the low table in easy reach. He moved his tumbler, remnants of amber liquid in the bottom, nearer to the chair. McTavish, on the other hand, positioned his chair slightly behind the loveseat. Included in the gathering, she was also apart from it. He claimed the seat immediately.

“Oh.” The small squeak of noise from the threshold was cut off as Harriet pressed her lips together. She glanced from McTavish to Wayland, who stood with his hand on the back of his chair. With Emma trotting on her heels, Harriet crossed to the table and set down the tea service. She busied herself with the cups.

Although Harriet didn’t speak a word, McTavish explained, “If we’re to be here a while, we can’t be standing all night.”

Unfortunately, there weren’t enough seats for Harriet.

Katherine cleared her throat. “I might have something in the study, though it took two men to bring it up…”

McTavish patted his knee. “Och now, let’s not go through the bother. Harriet can come sit right here if her feet get tired.”

Harriet glared at him.

Pru blushed scarlet. She glanced at her husband to be, her color deepening even further before she stared at her lap. “Let me help with that, Harriet.” Her mumbled words were so low that they seemed to blur together. Her intention, however, was clear as she bent over the table and helped Harriet fix the cups.

Wayland stepped back from the last chair and offered it to Harriet. “You can sit here.”

Warily, Harriet glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “And where will you sit?”

Wayland shrugged. He lowered himself to the floor next to Katherine’s armchair and leaned his shoulder against it. “I don’t mind the floor. It’s where Emma prefers me to be, in any case.” As the happy dog trotted up to him, he submitted to her begging and scratched her behind the ears. “See?”

The tension in the room eased. Harriet delivered Wayland’s cup to him with a whispered, “Thank you.” When she’d doled out the remainder of the tea service, she claimed the chair, holding her teacup on her lap. She didn’t look in McTavish’s direction once.

Wayland cleared his throat. “So, how are the wedding plans progressing?”

Katherine nearly groaned. Why did he have to bring them up? It was perhaps the one topic she didn’t care to discuss, for she’d held enough conversations in the past month on the topic to last her a lifetime.

Pru, on the other hand, beamed as she launched into excruciating detail about the problems she had and hadn’t solved in the past few days. Of course, she wanted Katherine’s opinion on each problem and solution. With her throbbing ankle, Katherine couldn’t avoid the conversation this time. She could only engage as best she could while trying to hold her temper and to stay awake.

She must have fallen asleep at one point, because when she woke, it was to Pru’s groan. Her friend stretched, glancing over her shoulder at the drawn curtains. “What is the time?”

McTavish’s snore rent the room. Scowling, Harriet nudged him awake with her foot. He blinked, confused at first, before he narrowed his eyes at her and wiped drool from his mouth.

Katherine laid her hand on the arm of the chair to adjust her position, only to brush her fingers against locks of hair—surprisingly soft locks of hair. Wayland jerked awake. Emma stirred in his lap.

Pru rubbed her eyes and squinted at the window. “I think it must be dawn.”

Katherine’s stomach dropped. “Dawn?” Had they missed the intrusion of the murderer?

Pru nodded and grimaced. She pressed her lips together as she rose, stretching out sore muscles. Annandale did the same. “It’s time for us to leave.”

“You can’t,” Katherine said at once.

Pru pinned her with a frown. “It’s morning. No one will arrive now. The best we can hope is that someone will come tomorrow.”

Katherine pressed her lips together. How could her plan have failed?

Seeming to take pity on her, Wayland rumbled, his voice rough from sleep, “It takes time for rumors to spread.”

But he had delivered the rumor into the ears of one of her suspects directly! Unless Mr. Gammon hadn’t killed his father… But who did that leave?

Pru asked, “Have you told Lady Dalhousie?”

“Last night.”

“There you have it, then. You can’t expect her to spread a rumor to all of London in a single night. Give her the day at least.”

“Then you’ll return tonight?” Katherine hated her small voice.