A Stroke of Malice (Lady Darby Mystery #8) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,68

silent, struggling to stifle her weeping. “Is it the body?”

She hiccupped and nodded.

“Dead bodies are, of course, unpleasant,” I said gently. “But I can’t see how this one could have anything to do with you. It’s nothing like what happened at Gairloch. Is that what you fear?”

“No,” she gasped. “But . . . it’s an ill omen, isn’t it? That you should find a corpse, and a murdered one at that, immediately after Rye and I announced our engagement.”

I studied her tear-streaked cheeks and shook my head fondly. “Oh, Charlotte. You goose. There are no such things as omens—ill or otherwise. Intuition, yes, but I can’t see how that could be speaking to you right now.”

She stiffened as if to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. “You’re afraid,” I stated baldly, knowing she needed someone to make her face the truth. “You’re afraid that you’ve made a mistake, that Rye will turn out to be like your first husband. And that’s understandable. But deep down you know he’s nothing like him.”

She sniffed, gripping her handkerchief tightly in her fist. Her eyes were shadowed with uncertainty. “He’s not, is he?”

I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “He’s not.” And then just to be clear, I added. “Rye is a very good man.”

She nodded, but there was still a hesitance to her demeanor.

I turned to stare broodingly at the fireplace. The wood popped and crackled, and the flames cast a flickering glow over the rug. “Did I ever tell you that when Gage initially proposed to me I rejected him?”

Her eyes widened in surprise as I glanced up at her. “You did?”

My mouth curled into a sad smile. “I was terrified. I wanted to be with him. Desperately. But I was afraid he could never really love me. That he merely found me useful. And . . . that he might turn out to be like Sir Anthony.” I shook my head ruefully. “I knew the latter wasn’t true, but it’s easy to convince yourself otherwise when fear has you in its grip.”

Her head bowed, contemplating this.

“Fortunately for me, a very wise person took me aside and told me that I was being foolish. That I shouldn’t be afraid of what my life would be like with Gage, but rather what it would be like without him.”

“Your sister?” she guessed.

“No, my brother.”

This seemed to make a great impression on her.

“He forced me to consider what my life would be like if I didn’t take the chance, if I let Gage walk away. How it would feel to never see him again, to hear of his eventually marrying someone else. Could I live with myself for being so cowardly?”

Thoughts flitted across her features in the firelight, tightening the skin across her brow and making her throat work as she swallowed.

“I cannot answer for you,” I murmured. “But I decided Gage was worth the risk.” My lips curled at the thought of his handsome face, his quick mind, his strong arms, and his roguish smile. “And he has proven to be. Time and time again.”

Her eyes assessed me, perhaps guessing at some of my thoughts. “I suppose you’re right.”

“As I said, you must decide for yourself.” I turned serious. “Just be certain you’re not blaming Rye for the sins of another man.” I lifted my eyebrows in emphasis. “Or falling prey to superstitious nonsense. You do realize that man had been murdered at least two weeks ago. So if there was such a thing as an ill omen to be attached to it, it seems to me it would be for the day of the killing, not the day the body was discovered.”

“I hadn’t considered that.”

Seeing how this reassured her, I wanted to call her a goose again, but I decided once in an evening was probably enough.

Then her pink lips flattened as if she’d just recalled something, and her gaze lifted to mine almost warily. “Is it true that the body belongs to the Earl of Helmswick?”

Having already been asked the same thing by a dozen guests, I wasn’t surprised by the query. Just as I hadn’t been surprised such a choice piece of tittle-tattle had already made the rounds of gossip.

“It may be,” I replied. “But thus far we haven’t been able to definitively identify him.”

This made her flinch just like all the others.

“Why?” I tilted my head, able to tell there was some motivation behind her query other than simple curiosity. “Were you acquainted with the earl?”

“Vaguely.” She frowned. “He attempted

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