Page 99 of Murder in Moonlight

The noises of a coach-and-four pulling into the inn yard below dragged her out of her thoughts. Baggage was packed on the roof and the coachman looked vaguely familiar. No wonder. It was Solomon who alighted.

She smiled, her tiredness dissipating like a summer cloud. But the coachman did not dismount as Solomon strode inside. No one unloaded the bags.

He was going back to London.

Of course he was. He had a business to run, and…and she had been fooling herself to think he was truly her friend. They had never been more than temporary allies. Although he was unmarried—she knew that much about him—he was bound to have a special lady awaiting his return, a lady he could never introduce her to. Solomon Grey did not want or need a woman like Constance in any part of his life.

Reality was a slap in the face. She knew that, and yet she always dreamed beyond it. He had come to pay his shot at the inn.

She would spare them both the farewell and absorb the pain alone, in private, as she always did.

She stayed where she was, not looking below but across the gently rolling hills in the distance. The countryside was pretty. She should spend more time outside the city. Perhaps she should close the house for a few days next month, take everyone on holiday to the seaside. Clacton, perhaps. Southend. Even Brighton…

A knock interrupted her.

Hastily, she dashed her sleeve across her face, so as not to appall the maid. “Come in.”

Not the maid, but Solomon. He entered and took off his hat, inclining his head with his usual courtesy. “I’m glad to see you up and about. How are you?”

“Sore but proud,” she said lightly. “How are you?”

“Likewise,” he said with a quick smile. “I thought you would like to know you were right about the muddy shoes. Flynn found a pair of Bolton’s uncleaned, with traces of the flowerbed in question on the soles.”

She grimaced. “It didn’t help catch him, though, did it?”

“It is useful evidence to help convict him.”

“Maybe.”

He said, “It’s reprehensible in the face of such tragedy, I know, but I enjoyed it.”

“A guilty pleasure. I understand the Tizsas better now.”

“I think we have earned their approval.”

She rose from the window seat. “You are going back to London.”

“I need to. There are things I have been neglecting. I would offer to take you, but I don’t think you are fit to travel.”

I could be. With you.

Foolish. Foolish.

She walked toward him, her hand held out, her friendliest smile on her lips. “I shall be more comfortable in a day or two. Goodbye, Solomon Grey. You’re right. It has been fun.”

He took her hand in his firm grip, his dark, perceptive eyes searching hers. “Perhaps we shall do it again some time.”

“Perhaps,” she said, still smiling, because she knew they would not, and the hurt intensified.Please just go. And be happy…

He leaned closer and dipped his head. In astonishment, she felt his mouth cover hers, soft and infinitely gentle, and gone in an instant. But the world stood still.

She found herself staring at his back, at the door closing behind him.

Wonderingly, she touched her lips and smiled.

“Au revoir,” she whispered to the door. Because she knew now that she would see him again.