Page 26 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford (Regency Murder and Marriage #4)

Before she had a chance to reply, Lord Delaney reached out and drew her into a kiss, that was furious in its energy.

“My lord,” Eudora gasped, as they eventually broke apart, “Forgive me for lurking outside your door, I simply wished to know what happened with Mrs Canards.”

Lord Delaney’s expression turned murderous at the mention of Plumpton’s nosiest resident before his brown eyes met Eudora’s, and his expression softened.

“We became engaged,” he answered, much to Eudora’s surprise. “That’s what happened. Come inside, and I’ll explain myself.”

Eudora found herself bundled into the baron’s rooms—which were far, far grander than her own—and ushered to a seat upon an ottoman at the end of the bed.

She took a few breaths to steady her frayed nerves.

However, upon inhaling, the distinct masculine smell of wood, tobacco, and spices filled her senses, and for a moment, she feared she would fall faint off the footstool.

It was too much to be in this male room, having a man explain that he was engaged to her.

“There, there,” Lord Delaney said, as he rubbed her back with his hand, “Just take deep breaths.”

His touch was comforting, but Eudora resisted the temptation to allow herself be comforted by him. She was too vexed for that.

“Are you going to explain yourself?” she asked, turning her face up to him. Her tone was far snippier than she had intended, and the baron winced.

“It was Mrs Canards,” he began, his abashed tone suggesting that he knew that this was not the most auspicious way to begin the story of his ‘proposal’.

“Mrs Canards does not usually inspire romantic outbursts,” Eudora noted, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for him to continue.

“No she does not,” Lord Delaney agreed, with a visible shiver, “She took great pains to warn me that your mama was out to make a match between you and I.”

Eudora reddened as she imagined Mrs Canards relishing in informing Lord Delaney that—in her opinion—all the Mifford girls had come by their husbands through devious means.

“So, I took it upon myself to tell her that I had no need for warning, because I had proposed to you of my own volition and was ecstatic that you had agreed to become my wife.”

Despite her annoyance, Eudora could not help the giggle that escaped her, as she pictured Mrs Canard’s face upon hearing this. She almost wished that she had been there to see the wicked woman get her comeuppance—almost.

“The trouble, my lord,” Eudora continued, quickly for Robert’s expression grew hopeful that her annoyance had abated, “Is that you did not ask me.”

After a lifetime of feeling a little left out, Eudora’s heart smarted a bit to think she had been excluded from her own proposal.

Not to mention, it was rather high-handed of the baron to make the matter of their engagement a unilateral decision.

Eudora had been bossed about her entire life by every one of her sisters; she did not wish for married life to start off on the same foot.

“And if I did ask you?” Robert interjected, his brown eyes wide and vulnerable, “What would your answer be? I should like you as my wife, Eudora. In fact, I cannot imagine anything that I would like more.”

There it was; the perfect proposal, delivered with sincerity and an undercurrent of passion. Perfect though it was, it was too late.

“I think I should answer that question later, my lord,” Eudora decided, quashing down the urge to throw herself into his arms, “When I am in a more agreeable mood. Now, tell me, did anything else come of your meeting with Mrs Canards?”

If Lord Delaney was surprised by her abrupt volte-face, he did not show it. Instead, he gave a deep sigh and squared his shoulders, the act of a man about to deliver heavy news.

“Mrs Canards and her charming friend Mrs Wickling confirmed the affair between Lord Albermay and Mable,” he said, his tone grave.

“They found them together in the library on the morning that the murder was discovered, which—I’m afraid to say—almost certainly removes the viscount from our list of suspects. ”

“What shall we do?” Eudora whispered, her heart heavy as she knew what his words implied.

“I shall have to confront Lord Albermay,” Robert replied, his brow drawn into a frown, “And after that, if I deem it necessary, I will inform Lord Crabb about the bloodstains on Lady Albermay’s dress.”

“We could simply not tell him,” Eudora interrupted, grasping wildly for a way to save her friend, “What harm is there in not telling him?”

“Lord Crabb is the local magistrate, Eudora,” Robert replied in an attempt to reassure, “It is within his power to prevent Lady Albermay from being prosecuted if he deems it just. But the truth must out.”

“The mystery must be solved,” Eudora agreed, her tone somewhat bitter.

“I will let you know, how I fare,” Robert finished, the use of the word “I” heavy to Eudora’s ears. It was no longer their mystery but his.

Eudora’s earlier wish to solve a murder so that she could be like her sisters had dissipated entirely, and she was almost glad that Lord Delaney had taken over the reins, to ride toward the most Pyhrric of victories.

“Thank you, my lord,” Eudora answered.

Then, because she was upset for Lady Albermay, and because she was upset at the distance that had placed itself between Robert and herself, and because she really should not be alone with an unmarried man in his bed-chambers, Eudora left.

Let Lord Delaney finish this, she thought as she made her way to her room with tears stinging at her eyes, she was finished with mysteries.