Page 83 of Murder on the Brighton Express

“Catherine Elizabeth Meyers, the maiden name of Mrs. Blaine. Or Scoop, if you prefer. Apparently, she plans on using that name for any feature articles Finlayson allows her to write. This one is her first.”

“It’s superbly written. Thomas Salter and Enoch Price should be pleased Ruth has been recognized like this.”

“Enoch wasn’t all that pleased when I saw him this morning.” Harry dug into his inside jacket pocket. “He called on me after reading my name and paid me a fee.” He held out an envelope. “He was relieved that the police were changing their verdict to murder. It’s not a lot, but he said I deserved something for my efforts. But it’syouwho deserve it, Cleo. I did tell Enoch, by the way, but…” He shrugged.

He didn’t need to say more. I could well imagine Enoch Price refusing to accept that a woman solved his sister’s murder.

Instinct and manners almost made me refuse the money, but in the end, I accepted half and slipped the other half into his jacket pocket. Ididdeserve some payment.

“Thank you, Harry. Not just for this, but for stepping in when Wilson attacked. You were marvelous.”

He looked down at the floor, his cheeks turning a little pink with embarrassment. “Goliath helped.”

“And I have already thanked him.”

Harry shuffled his feet. For a man who was always so sure of himself, he seemed out of sorts. “You looked like you enjoyed yourself at the wedding.”

“I did. Did you?”

With his head still bent forward, he lifted his gaze, peering at me through his long lashes. The effect was both vulnerable and dashing. My heart fluttered. “I would have enjoyed it more if I’d danced with you.”

“You never asked,” I pointed out.

“I didn’t dare.”

“You’ve never been scared of my uncle or cousin before. You’ve always stood your ground.”

His lips tilted with his intriguing smile. “I wasn’t scared of them. I was scared of the other men waiting to dance with you. If I’d tried to jump the queue, there would have been a riot.”

I laughed as I shook my head. “You’re a devil, Harry. There weren’t that many men wanting to dance with me. Besides, who said I would have let you jump the queue?”

He leaned down again and murmured in my ear. “You would have let me. I guarantee it.”

He was close enough to hear the hitch in my breath, and perhaps even to hear the blood rushing through my veins. It certainly sounded loud enough to me.

I scrambled to think of something amusing to say that would settle my frayed nerves, but he walked away before I could.

He turned back when he reached the exit, doffed his hat, and tossed me a self-satisfied smile that left me in no doubt that he knew the effect he had on me.