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She stifled a sigh. Apparently, she would live after all.

“My mother has moved to the dower house,” her husband said abruptly after they’d been traveling for a few minutes, only the clattering of the wheels against the cobblestoned streets breaking the silence.

“Oh,” she said when he looked as though he was waiting for a response. “Good?”

He nodded though he did not look entirely satisfied. “Yes. It is good. You are the Countess now—” Oh, Lord help her, she was acountessnow. “—so it will be good for you to get to settle into the house without its former mistress underfoot. I doubt I shall be able to keep her at bay forever, but we shall have some time to ourselves.”

“Right,” she said. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. Why was her mouth so dry? It could not possibly be due to any alarm at the prospect ofhaving timewith her new husband. Uninterrupted time.

Time where they might, with the approval of God and Society, do…

Things.

“Right,” he echoed as if waiting for her to say more.

She looked out the carriage window. How interesting she found the streets of Mayfair! She wasn’t avoiding his gaze because she was a coward! No! Not at all!

She thought she heard her new husband sigh, but surely, he was too dignified for that.

Emily spent the remainder of the ride letting the phrasetime to ourselvesbounce around her head, the ball of nerves it generated growing larger and larger by the minute.

Death by humiliation was apparently impossible, but perhaps death by anxiety was still a possible outcome.

She tried very hard to focus on other things, she really did. It helped somewhat that, when they arrived at Moore Manor, there was the staff to greet and a tour to undertake. She found, however, that her mind kept traveling back to the tall, upright man who stood at her side, the stern man who had essentially herded her into marriage with him.

The man who had given her letters that could help her understand her friend’s death.

The man who had punched a drunkard for her.

The man who had held her hand throughout the wedding ceremony to help her feel less afraid.

Really, it was all too confusing.

She was reminded, not for the first time in her life, to be careful what she wished for, however, when the housekeeper concluded their tour by leading them back to the front hall where they’d begun just at the same moment that the Dowager Countess of Moore swept imperiously through the front doors.

“Mother!” the Earl snapped, his voice a furious snarl.

Emily looked up at him in surprise. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him sound quite this irritated, not even when she was doing her best to needle him into an absolute fury.

The Dowager Countess frowned at her son, not even sparing a single glance for Emily. Emily found she could not be overly sorry about this. This was the first time she’d faced the woman who might have known something about Grace’s murder since she’d read the Dowager Countess’ letters. It was hard to imagine that this woman, whose dress was cut inappropriately low—especially given that she’d only just come from her own son’s wedding—and who was wearing too much rouge, could have been in cahoots with a hired killer.

And yet Emily had read the letters. Her new husband’s mother had known that Dowling was a murderer. And she’d done nothing.

Or rather, she’d done nothingright. She had donesomething—she’d blackmailed him for her own gain.

Only a lifetime of training in propriety kept Emily from shaking her head in disgust.

“What?” the Dowager Countess asked her son, a distinct whine in her voice. “Do you always need to be quite so cross with me, Benedict?”

“You,” he said through clenched teeth, “are meant to be at the dower house.”

The Dowager gave him a pitying look. “Well, I am going, am I not? Or did you think I shouldn’t pick up my bags before I decamp? Would you like me to be without clothing or food, Benedict?”

This was, Emily felt, a tad dramatic.

“Of course not.” The Earl was practically vibrating with annoyance. If Emily didn’t so vehemently dislike the Dowager Countess, she might have considered taking notes on the older woman’s technique. At present, Emily and her new husband were in something of a truce, but that didn’t mean Emily would never again wish to bedevil him.

After all, the previous incidents had ended in a highly satisfying manner.