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“Well, I read the report from David Woods last night. There was no trace of powders or pills in that muslin Minerva choked on, or Minerva herself, so we can be fairly certain that it was the cloth in her drink that killed her. We know the messages were fake and given by someone at that table. I think that for now, we need to put the word out with the local beat bobbies that the mysterious black carriage is in the area and behaving suspiciously. I want the owner found as soon as possible. They have more than a few questions to answer. Meantime, I think I have just had my Friday evening commandeered, all in the name of psychic research.” He ignored Isaac’s slightly horrified look.
“You don’t want me to go, do you?” Isaac asked with a frown. There were some things even he wouldn’t do for his job.
“No, I think that is something that I need to do, don’t you?” He saw Isaac’s reluctance for what it was and didn’t relish the prospect of having to go either, if he was honest, but at least Harriett would be there, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on her.
CHAPTER TEN
Two days later, Harriett sauntered through the market at Great Tipton. Thursdays were always an exceptionally busy day, but she didn’t mind the hustle and bustle of the busy square today because it made her feel glad to be alive. A gentle haze hung over the busy thoroughfare that did little to ward off the chill of autumn, but even the nip on her cheeks was something she relished.
After Minerva Bobbington’s funeral yesterday, it was nice to be out and about for a change. She meandered through the various stalls, happy to simply absorb the atmosphere of the traders and shoppers when her gaze was caught by the sight of a constable. Her heart began to hammer in her throat and her thoughts immediately turned toward the one man she had spent the last few days trying hard to forget. A now familiar pang of hurt swept through her and she sighed despondently as she turned away.
When she had seen him last, he had promised to check on her and update her on the investigation, but hadn’t returned. Although a small part of her warned her that he had no real duty to check on her daily, she was still hurt at the ease in which he had forgotten her.
She straightened her shoulders, threw her head back and turned her thoughts firmly toward the contents of her basket. Now that her goods had been purchased, she was free to head home. She spied the small sign above the door to the tea shop, and headed in that direction. As she covered her basket with a brightly coloured cloth, she glanced up and froze at the sight that greeted her eyes. Her stomach dipped and she was immediately flooded with a ruthless wave of hurt that made her feel slightly sick.
There, inside the shop, seated opposite a beautiful blonde woman, was none other than Detective Inspector Mark Bosville. From the intimate way in which their heads were tipped toward each other, their conversation had nothing to do with business. These two were familiar with one another’s presence. Just how familiar was emphasised in the companionable way he held her hand in full view of the other tea shop patrons.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat, and turned her head away. Despite the fact that she was now heading in the wrong direction, she hurried past the shop, all thoughts of a cup of tea forgotten. She wanted to put as much distance between her and the sight she knew would stay with her for some considerable time yet. She physically trembled with the haste in which she walked, but lengthened her stride until she almost ran. All of her thoughts were locked firmly on the need to get home before the tears fell.
Well, what did you expect? A small voice reasoned with her. He is handsome, intelligent and of marriageable age. It was perfectly natural for someone like him to have a beautiful girlfriend. Besides, her association with him had been purely professional. There was nothing about her acquaintance with Mark that had given her any cause to have expectations of him. He had certainly not done anything that would give her reason to assume that she could consider herself anything other than a victim of crime he happened to be investigating through his work. It was ridiculously foolish of her to be hurt as much as she was. Her heart wasn’t broken, nor was it battered or bruised in any way. No, the feelings she had at the moment were purely down to the emotional turmoil of the very trying week she had just experienced. He had been the one person who had brought an air of calm to a situation that had confused and frightened her. She sucked in a deep breath, and brazenly blanked out the feelings that pulled apart her logic. With her shoulders thrown back defiantly, she marched resolutely toward home.
Mark studied Harriett’s back as she swept past the shop. The immediate thrill of anticipation at her being there was immediately replaced with frozen horror at the thought that she had seen him holding hands with Alice across the table of a tea shop. He realised then just how foolish he had been, not only to break his association with Alice in such a public place, but to offer her comfort so blatantly with so many people in plain view. He cast a dark look around the shop and caught the quickly averted gazes of a couple of the patrons, one of whom was a close acquaintance of his mother’s, and groaned inwardly. Although he tipped his head a little to be able to get a better view out of the window, he couldn’t see Harriett, but knew she was around somewhere. She seemed to have been in a hurry. Was that because she was in a rush, or had she seen him with Alice and been upset? He secretly hoped it was the latter, even though it would mean he had to explain the situation to her.
Determined not to leave her with any misunderstanding a moment longer than was necessary, Mark glanced across at the woman he had just broken up with.
“Please accept my apologies, Alice. I didn’t mean to mislead you in any way. It is just that with as much work as I have on at the moment, it is difficult to get any time off at all. Someone like you deserves to
be with a man who is able to take you out to places.”
“But I don’t mind waiting, really I don’t,” Alice whined tearfully. When she was calm and in control, she really was quite beautiful, however, with anger in her eyes, and a whine in her voice that he had never heard before, he was profoundly grateful he had chosen not to take matters further and turn their courtship into anything more permanent.
“I simply cannot allow you to have false hope.” He made his voice firmer than was really necessary and gave her an apologetic smile as he sat back in his chair. He dug a few coins out of his pocket and dropped them onto the table. “It really would be best if you found someone who deserves you.”
He felt the bite of impatience when Alice began to snivel and wondered how long she would keep up the dramatics. She had yet to shed a single tear. Not that he wanted her to cry, but he was annoyed that she thought she could pull on emotional strings to get her own way. He shuddered in horror at what he could quite conceivably have been landed with had he not met Harriett.
Harriett.
The thought of her hurrying in the opposite direction propelled him to his feet with more force than was necessary. He mumbled an apology when the woman seated behind him gasped and began to cough as his chair rammed into the back of hers, and propelled her forward with such force that tea splashed into her face.
He muttered apologies as he handed her a cloth and began to dab her chin with hurried jabs, only to jump when she squeaked a protest and snatched the cloth off him with an indignant glare. The lady seated beside her began to thump her back in earnest, which rendered Mark useless. With the look of a man who scented freedom, Mark mumbled another apology and hurried out of the shop. He didn’t even think to take one last look at Alice, or even stop to say goodbye.
Once outside, he quickly glanced left and right and groaned at the sheer volume of people in the busy market square. It would be impossible to find her, even if she was still in town. He wondered if she had called by the station but then decided that rather than waste time going to check, he had to go and find her. She had a ten minute head start on him, but his legs were longer than hers and, with any luck, he would be able to catch her up before she reached Tipton Hollow.
He had learned over the past couple of days that Harriet was the woman he wanted to be with. His need to spend time with her went bone deep. From the moment he woke up to the second he fell asleep she continued to plague his every thought, his every movement, until he had started to feel lost and lonely without her. Was it love at first sight? He knew it was. Even if he ignored the slightly off-balance, punch in the stomach feeling he had experienced when he had first laid eyes on her, each and every day since, she had been in his thoughts. Throughout the day, even when he hadn’t been working on the investigation, he had wondered where she was, who she was with, how she was coping.
Given the strength of the feelings he had felt on the night they had met, and the relief that had almost overwhelmed him the following day when he had seen her again, he had forced himself through a self-imposed exile of sorts. He had made himself stay away while he had tried to get to grips with the way she had made him reconsider his future. Each day since, having considered every possible nuance of feeling, every ounce of affection, every thought process and scenario, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what he felt for Harriett Marchington was love. There was no other reason for his almost obsessive need to see her again.
It was one of the reasons why he had made arrangements to meet with Alice, and break off his relationship with her. After the dramatics in the tea shop, he knew with certainty that he had made the right choice. Harriett would never have behaved so manipulatively, even if he was ever so stupid as to break off his relationship with her.
Harriett dropped her basket on the table and swiped at the tears on her face. It was ridiculous to feel this upset over something so banal. After all, he meant nothing to her; he was just the detective who was investigating a murder in her house. She had to get on with her life and forget about him. Unfortunately, her heart seemed to have other ideas because every time she closed her eyes, his handsome face swept into her vision to the point that she felt as though he was haunting her.
She took a few moments to calm herself, and glanced at the clock. It was too late to go back to the shop, even though the afternoon service would be in full swing. It was already two o’clock, and the shop would almost inevitably be full of the usual gossips. The latest subject for speculation was the demise of Minerva Bobbington, whom they had been slandering only a couple of weeks ago for having brought the wrong type of roses for the church flowers. It was the last thing Harriett wanted to be involved in, or even listen to.
Right now though, she didn’t want to be alone, but Babette had gone out and wouldn’t be back for several hours yet, and Beatrice and Constance were still at Great Tipton market. She sucked in a deep breath, patted down her skirts, straightened her hair in the mirror above the fireplace and hurried out of the front door. Mr Montague was always someone she liked to chat and share a cup of tea with. He always seemed to have a pot of tea on the go in case any of his customers wanted to stop and chat and today would be no different.
Within minutes, she spied the green sigh of the haberdashery half way down the row of shops which lined the main street. She nodded hello to a few people but didn’t stop to chat and carefully kept her gaze averted from the tea shop as she passed. She had seen enough of tea shops for the time being. Instead, she hurried through the doorway of the haberdashery and immediately her ears were filled with the merry tinkle of the bell above the door.
“Mr Montague? Hello?” Harriett called as she closed the door carefully behind her.
