Page 46 of Murder in Matrimony (A Lady of Letters Mystery #4)

THIRTY-TWO

Dear Lady Agony,

Tell it to me short and straight, like cupid’s arrow. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Devotedly,

Reader in Love

Dear Reader in Love,

In a word, dearest reader—absolutely.

Yours in Secret,

Lady Agony

While Mr. Baker signed his half of the proceeds over to the Rothschilds, Oliver and Kitty Hamsted found a constable who eagerly took down the accounts of the murder of Rose Rothschild and Mr. Cross.

They had the evidence from Rose’s murder—the screws—but the evidence from Cross’s murder was yet to come.

The officer thought it very probable that Mr. Baker kept the poor box from the church, and the Metropolitan Police would be able to substantiate the claims quite quickly.

The time of death had been mistaken because of the clock but also the fire, which kept the body warmer than it would have been without it.

Before the officer’s arrival, Isaac Jakeman had quietly left the same way he came but not before receiving Simon’s eternal gratitude and a genuine handshake.

Amelia owed him her very life, and she told him so.

He shrugged off the kindness as commonplace, but she knew it was not.

Anyone in his position would have done what benefited himself.

Instead, he’d put her wellbeing before his own, and for that she would be forever grateful.

Amelia’s carriage waited on a side street, and before climbing inside, she apologized to Oliver and Kitty for taking it upon herself to investigate without her friends.

Oliver said he understood why she had done it but implored her to come to all of them next time, to which she replied, she hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

Alone in the carriage with Simon, Amelia recalled her fervent desire to tell him she loved him.

They had said very little, and it seemed her feelings filled the space between them.

So thick were they that they might have broken them into a thousand pieces with a word, and no matter how she thought to begin, she couldn’t quite start.

As they grew closer to Mayfair, however, she knew she must. Once she returned, all the obligations would return with her, and she might lose her nerve.

The girl who moved to London two years ago wouldn’t have waited one day, but she was more careful now.

Too careful. She must act, even if it was too sudden or soon.

She opened her mouth and took a breath. “Simon—”

“Amelia,” he said at the same time.

They shared a small laugh.

“I defer to the lady.” Simon flourished a hand as if to allow her passage.

She mustered her strength and started again. “When I was standing at the top of the ladder, one person came to mind. It was you.”

A timid smile flitted across his lips.

“I had a single regret, but a considerable one, and if I would have plunged to my death, it would have gone with me to the grave.” She swallowed, willing herself to continue.

She could do this. She must do this. Even if it was not the right time or place.

Even if it wasn’t customary or condoned.

She had been honest with her readers when it was hard; now she must be honest with Simon.

“I’ve longed to tell you something for a while, and I know I shouldn’t, but it is always this way with you. I must say what I believe.”

“You can say it now,” he said quietly.

“It feels as though every moment of my life has led me to you, each stone laid at my feet in the hope of finding you. And when I did, it felt as if I was home for the very first time. I never want to leave this place of you and me.” She took a breath, and the next words came out as easily as a breeze in April. “I love you.”

“Amelia.” His hands cupped her face, and his green eyes searched her own.

He must have seen the raw honesty in them, and in the next breath, an emotion had been unlocked, and he whispered, “My pride has made me foolish and reticent. But I, like you, can no longer keep silent. You must know I love you too.”

He kissed her tenderly, then hugged her to his chest. She swore she could feel his heart through his coat, beating hammer hard.

He kissed her neck, and as she released a little sigh of pleasure, he snaked his arm around her, pulling her closer.

When their lips met again, their desire was more fervent, as if they both knew the moment must end but didn’t wish it to.

Amelia felt the carriage come to a stop, and they broke apart.

“Ours has been a patient path, but I have lost my patience. I do not wish to go on as before. I can’t.” He grasped her hand, glancing out the window, then at her. “Would you ever consider … I mean, under the right circumstances, would you consent to … marry me?”

This was a surprise, in timidness and honesty. She answered with the same honesty and without thinking. “Under any circumstances. Yes, I would marry you.”

He released a stream of air. “That is a relief. I thought you might be against it because of Winifred. But you must know I would raise her as my own daughter. I understand that’s how you feel for her, and I hope to one day as well.”

“Oh Simon,” she exclaimed and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. “How could I ever be against us?”

“If Lady Tabitha objects, if she insists you remain an Amesbury—”

She squeezed his hand. “You have forgotten one thing. She is the most Amesbury of the Amesburys. To be mistress of home and hearth again must be her secret and most ardent wish.”

“I did not consider that point. She has lived here most of her life, and I cannot imagine she enjoys sharing. She again would be the matriarch of the Amesburys, but we would bring the name merit with our raising of little Winifred.”

For Winifred to have a father figure such as Simon Bainbridge in her life was almost too much to hope for, and Amelia loved him even more for his words.

He didn’t regret raising another man’s child.

He looked forward to it and the life they could give her.

Her heart swelled with admiration, and she was about to show him how much when Bailey set down the carriage steps.

“We will make plans, after your sister is married,” Simon added quickly. “Is that too soon?”

“I would marry you today if I could,” she whispered, and they shared a secret smile.

Then Bailey opened the door, and Aunt Tabitha was walking toward the carriage. Alone. Without a shawl. Pointing at her with her raven-headed cane.

“What in heaven’s name?” Amelia wondered if the trouble at Baker Biscuits had followed them from the East End already.

“You don’t think her ears are that good, do you?” Simon jested. “She couldn’t have heard me from inside the house.”

She shook her head distractedly. “Something is wrong. Very wrong.”

Her feet had only touched the ground when Aunt Tabitha proclaimed, “Your sister is missing.”

“Which one?” Amelia asked.

“The red-headed menace, that’s which one.”

Oh dear.

“Good day, Lady Tabitha,” murmured Simon.

“It’s not a good day, Lord Bainbridge. In fact, rarely is it a good day when Miss Margaret is expected to do something rational.”

“What is it, Aunt?”

“She missed her final wedding dress fitting,” Aunt Tabitha announced.

Dread, panic, fear. Those were the emotions that coursed through Amelia’s body in immediate succession.

Why had Madge missed her appointment? The wedding was tomorrow.

The answer was simple and immediate. There wasn’t to be a wedding.

She knew it as well as the grip of her own parasol.

Here she thought the couple had overcome their obstacles and resolved any difficulties.

Her absence proved how much she knew. And yet …

“Oh Amelia!” Mrs. Scott was joined by Penelope and Sarah. “Have you heard? Margaret is missing.”

“I told you! I told you this morning!” Winifred trailed fast on their heels.

Simon touched her shoulders. “No matter what has happened, we will overcome it—together. You need never be alone again.”

Aunt Tabitha tilted her head ever so slightly, perhaps cognizant of a change in the relationship. She wasn’t unpleased, however. In fact, she appeared grateful for his assistance.

As for Amelia, the palpable relief she felt in her heart came out in two words. “Thank you.”

Her mother and sisters were talking at once, giving different accounts of Madge’s whereabouts. She listened to all, regarding some and discounting others. When they finished, she had one question that would answer all others foremost on her mind. “Where is Captain Fitz?”

The din of noise around her went perfectly silent.

“Captain Fitz?” Mrs. Scott repeated after a moment. “Why, we haven’t seen him either.”

Knowledge fell slowly, like a mist turning into rain. It was one thing if Madge was missing. It was quite another if they both were.

“I will call on Captain Fitz if you’ll allow me your carriage,” said Simon. “Be sure I’ll return with news.”

Amelia agreed, ushering her family into the house.

In a matter of weeks, Amesbury Manor had become one of the busiest—and perhaps noisiest—houses on the block, and Amelia could not admit to being sad about it.

Although a new problem had befallen her, the noise and food and drink brought her much comfort.

It was no longer a house of mourning. It was a house of life, and difficulties were proof of it.

Human beings were fallible, but that didn’t mean they were any less loveable, including Madge.

Amelia only wanted the best for her, and she and her family waited on a word from Simon to know the extent of the problem.

It came forty-five minutes later, after Winifred had eaten the last strawberry tartlet on a hastily made tea tray. Simon entered without waiting for Jones to announce his arrival, and Amelia braced herself for the news. He looked grave, and his eyes darted to hers for permission.

She dipped her chin in acquiescence.

“What is it, Lord Bainbridge?” asked Mrs. Scott. “What did the captain say?”

“I’m afraid he said nothing, Mrs. Scott, because he wasn’t there.” He glanced at Amelia, and she knew the case at once. “Captain Fitz and your daughter have eloped.”