Page 35 of Murder in Matrimony (A Lady of Letters Mystery #4)

“She’ll feel better once she talks to the captain.” Amelia attempted a cheerful smile. “It will calm her nerves.”

“I’ve never had a case of nerves in my life.

” Madge’s tone was prideful, and Amelia, too, was proud of her strength, but at this moment, the reminder was unwelcome to their mother, and Amelia wished she’d kept the proclamation to herself.

“But I do want to speak to the captain,” Madge continued.

“Will you accompany me, Penelope? They won’t let you go anywhere by yourself in the city, and Amelia has too much to do. ”

“Of course I will.” Penelope noted Sarah’s crestfallen face and added, “Perhaps Sarah might join us?”

“Good idea,” said Madge. “You two talk between yourselves while I discuss a few things with the captain. You know,” she added in a low voice, “personal things.”

“Gracious, Margaret Ann.” Mrs. Scott clasped her hands on her lap. “Please remember our dear Winifred.”

Winifred, who was sitting between Amelia and Madge, giggled.

When they arrived at the house, Amelia was pleased to see Simon in the entryway. She was not as pleased, however, to see Uncle Henry with his hand on the shoulder of the marquis, as if they were bosom friends and not new acquaintances.

She took a steadying breath and handed her parasol to Jones.

“You see, I am a connoisseur, if you will, of the happy cordial, and I feel obligated to supply the house with the liquor which it seems bereft of.” Uncle Henry had ample side whiskers, and as he leaned in, they nearly brushed Simon.

“I cannot imagine a house in all of England that deprives its inhabitants of the enjoyment of sherry, can you?”

“I cannot.” Simon checked his timepiece. “And at this hour.”

Amelia bit her lip to contain her smile. It was only teatime.

“Quite so,” said Uncle Henry. “Do you have any idea where I might find a good Spanish sherry in London?”

Simon shared the name of his favorite establishment, and Amelia lowered her lids at him. Blast Simon for giving up the information. At this rate, Uncle Henry would be snookered before dinner.

Uncle Henry set off for the mentioned place immediately, and once he was gone, Amelia pulled Simon into the morning room. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself. I hid the sherry before Uncle Henry arrived for a reason.”

“I apologize.” The wry smile on Simon’s lips betrayed his true feelings on the matter. “The man was determined to go, and he being your relative, my only thought was to assist him.”

She admired his empathy for Uncle Henry, and perhaps there wasn’t a man or woman alive who didn’t need a glass of sherry after a day of planning Margaret Scott’s wedding.

Heaven knew, she was looking forward to one—after she paid a visit to Mrs. Hines.

She must go today if she was to resume preparations tomorrow.

“I need to visit Mrs. Hines, the woman who was attacked after her shift at the pub. Mrs. Rothschild said her daughter gifted Mrs. Hines a cane. The problem is her address. She lives on Old Nichol Street.”

“Old Nichol Street,” repeated Simon with new stress in his voice. “Of course I will go, if you are asking.”

“You believe I would enter the rookery without an escort?”

“I believe you would do whatever you thought would help solve the murder of Mr. Cross.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

“No, I suppose not.” She returned to the entryway, where her family members were quarreling over tea. Her mother requested a cup of the forfeiting liquid, as did her sister Penelope, but Madge wanted to depart for the captain’s townhome straightaway.

When Amelia and Simon joined them, the family lowered the din to a murmur but did not stop talking completely. They eyed Simon from a distance, as if he were a conjurer or trapeze artist in the circus, waiting for him to do something.

Amelia decided the family argument before introducing him. “Tea will not do any harm, Madge. In fact, a break allows time for contemplation. You make decisions too quickly as it is, and this one requires reflection. Give your family an hour of refreshment while you consider the matter.”

“You would not wait an hour before alighting on a task with the marquis. You would run down the street with him if you could.” Madge bobbed her red head at Simon.

Amelia took the opportunity to introduce Simon to her delighted mother and sisters.

Simon made a perfect bow. “Good day, ladies, Mrs. Scott. It’s wonderful to finally meet you. I have heard so much about the family.”

“By the by, Madge, I am not running anywhere,” continued Amelia. “Lord Bainbridge and I have a prior engagement.” And by prior, she meant two minutes ago.

“One plans things, Margaret Ann,” Mrs. Scott replied approvingly. “One does not fly from one task to the next.”

“Please, enjoy a refreshing cup of tea, and send a note to the captain.” Amelia was firm in her encouragement. “Do not pounce on him unaware. I will be back in an hour.”

Simon waited until they were in his carriage before inquiring about her sister and the captain. “I trust the wedding plans are going well?”

“The wedding plans are progressing.” She paused, wondering how much to share with him.

The pause was enough for him to find out the problem anyway. “She is anxious about marrying the captain?”

“It is not the captain who worries her. I think it is marriage itself.”

“Why would that be?” He frowned. “If she loves Captain Fitz, marriage should not cause her anxiety. Don’t you agree?”

“I do.” Marrying Simon would be the least anxious task in the world. “If your assumption is correct, however, it may mean she does not love Captain Fitz, which is difficult to fathom.”

“Is it?” Simon steepled his fingers. “Like a soldier, the captain came to her defense at a time when she needed defending. She’d been implicated in Mr. Radcliffe’s death and was new to town life. He was her guardian and confidant. It is no surprise they grew close.”

“You think circumstance had something to do with it?” she asked.

“I think it had everything to do with it.”

“And they don’t love each other?” pressed Amelia.

“I did not say that.” He turned to her at the exact moment the carriage stopped, his eyes washing over her like foamy green waves. She imagined this is what it might feel like to stand on the bow of a ship, the sea spray on her face and that terrific scent all around her.

They watched each other silently, the word love taking a third seat.

“Perhaps they do love one another.” He stared at her lips.

“Perhaps they have loved each other since the moment of their meeting. Perhaps they wished to profess it but did not want to appear foolish. One loses a little bit of himself with life’s disappointments and rejections.

It does not take years to make a hardened man. ”

She did not know what to say. He did not look at her, and she could not tell if he was talking about the captain or himself.

Felicity Fairchild had rejected him in the worst way, agreeing to marry him while pursuing a relationship with his friend.

Then there was her own early indictment of him.

She criticized him for not thinking of the woman he encouraged Edgar to seek out.

Knowing Edgar was an ill man, he told him to find a woman who did not recognize his wealth or title and make her his wife.

Only then could he be assured of Lady Winifred’s future.

His advice had been based on his own experiences. He was hardened. But even the hardest person desired love. Didn’t he?

Her eyes studied his. “Simon?”

He glanced at her lips, waiting.

She couldn’t say it, and neither could he.

But by God if she didn’t feel it, in the core of her being, her love for this man.

If only she could turn her feelings into words.

Instead, they rode on with only the lightness in their hearts to keep them company while descending into the darkest parts of the city.