Wary of sliding back into the personal, Juliet finished the last of her dessert and thanked him for a very pleasant meal.
“It’s time I went home,” she added. “I open early in the mornings to catch the workers.”
He nodded because, of course, he knew that already, and rose to his feet without trying to persuade her otherwise. He held her chair and placed her wrap around her shoulders. “You will allow me to escort you home.”
His hands lingered just a little too long, light and warm. She remembered his touch with a totally unexpected spark of long-dead desire. Unable to breathe, she turned slowly to face him. Her heart clamored as though her whole life depended on the answer she gave now.
He was still a handsome and exciting man. And she knew only too well what she was. Confused by the past and by Connie’s suspicions, she should not be in this position. And yet he had asked her, and she could say yes, and God knew what would follow from there.
But hehadasked her. And it was only a short walk.
She drew a deep breath.
*
Solomon found alarger-than-usual pile of post waiting for him at the breakfast table the following morning. Surprised, he sorted through the letters and found they were nearly all addressed to Constance.
He laid them at her place and opened his own while he ate. Onewas from his brother David, still in Paris but writing excitedly about coming home and that there was so much to tell him in person. Another was from one of his managers, and he folded it into his coat to read later. The last was a handwritten note from his chemist, which he broke open.
By then, Constance had come in, looking delightful in a wide-skirted gown of dark blue with a flattering V-shaped waist. He stood up and used the moment to kiss her good morning, as if there hadn’t already been many such kisses. And more.
She returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm.
“You are very popular this morning,” he murmured, indicating the letters beside her.
Her eyebrows rose, but she sat down, allowing him to help her to egg and toast and coffee, while she regarded the pile dubiously, almost as if she expected each letter to explode. Intrigued, he sat back down and watched her take a bite of toast before all but forcing herself to open the epistle at the top of the pile.
“It’s from Zenobia Paul,” she said in surprise. “She has accepted our invitation for next Friday evening.”
Solomon’s eyebrows flew up. He hadn’t known she had actually sent any invitations, imagining she was still agonizing over their lists of possible guests. Even the date of their soiree had only been tossed around between them rather than confirmed.
She grabbed the next letter. “Lord and Lady Trench have also accepted… And your Mr. and Mrs. Halliwell…” At last, she raised her eyes to his face with a peculiarly childlike wonder. “Solomon, they’veallaccepted. So far.”
“Of course they have,” he said comfortably. He suspected she might have sent the invitations quickly so that she didn’t lose courage. And even then, it was probably to prove to him that she would either be ignored or refused. “And more will do so.”
She still looked so overwhelmed that he reached out and coveredher hand with his.
“There will always be people who reject us for one silly reason or another—the color of my skin or the gossip about you. But we have friends.”
She blinked rapidly and swallowed, squeezing his hand in return.
“Did you ask Juliet?”
Constance’s lips twisted. “I did. She won’t come, of course, but I did send a card. To Kellar also, though I’ll rescind it if we find anything against him. What of your letters?”
Remembering, Solomon unfolded the chemist’s note and read it, before letting it fall back on to the table. “He found nothing. Every paper wrapping we found in Caterina’s room held exactly the same dose of powdered digitalis, as prescribed by Dr. Sorenson.”
“Somehow I thought that would…” She trailed off as the door of the breakfast parlor opened.
“An Inspector Harris is here, sir,” Lottie said. “From the police. I’ve put him in the morning room.”
“Just bring him along here,” Constance said, exchanging looks with Solomon, “and set another place.”
But though he sat down opposite Solomon and accepted a cup of tea, Harris refused breakfast, saying he had already eaten. In fact, he looked embarrassed.
“I’ve been sent by my superintendent, Mr. Galsworth,” he said bluntly. “It seems you’ve stood on the toes of a friend of his, and he insists you stop harassing him or face charges.”
“What charges?” Solomon asked.
