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/> Harriett groaned.
“It will be nice to get to know you, seeing as we are all going to be one big happy family.” Henrietta’s enthusiasm was plain to see and Mark fought the urge to roll his eyes. He sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward for his mother’s ebullience. On this occasion, he had no cause to object to her determination to get involved in the wedding arrangements, especially if it helped him secure Harriett as his wife once the investigation was over.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Beatrice’s small cottage was a tiny chocolate box house about half a mile away from Harriett’s home on Daventry Street. The evening was crisp and cool, but perfectly still and quiet. There wasn’t even a breeze to ruffle the leaves in the trees. The silence of the night was punctuated only by the occasional hoot of an owl somewhere off in the distance.
Further down the lane, Harriett spied the backs of Babette and Henrietta, who had their heads close together as they chattered away.
“I think that they are up to something,” Harriett mused. She glanced behind her with a frown and studied Beatrice’s door. Nobody else came out of the house. Was something wrong?
“My mother is an inveterate matchmaker. Don’t mind her, she doesn’t mean any harm.”
So many questions tumbled through Harriett that she didn’t know where to start. Strangely, as they wandered along the empty street she didn’t feel the slightest bit uncomfortable or on edge. It felt almost surreal to be walk arm in arm with Mark, who was so tall and solid beside her. She felt eminently safe and protected. It was a feeling that she had never had before and, although a small part of her warned her not to get used to it, she didn’t want the moment to end. Men like Mark didn’t come along very often and, inevitably, when they did they usually belonged to someone else. The mystery woman appeared in her mind’s eye again, and she sternly reminded herself that this was nothing more than Mark’s way of protecting her. She couldn’t and shouldn’t read too much into it.
“How are you feeling after this evening?” Mark kept his voice low in deference to the stillness of the night around them. It added to the rather intimate ambiance of their walk.
“I am fine, thank you. I am not as deeply affected as last time. It doesn’t seem to be anything other than very amateurish dramatics and a lot of silly nonsense now. I don’t know why we bother with it.”
“Because we don’t know if any of those present are responsible for what has happened so far. Until we do, we need to continue with the séances. You saw what happened with Miss Hepplethwaite early on. We may have a better chance of convicting them if we can catch them red handed. We know that someone at that circle is either a thief, a fraud or a murderer. We can only hope that the same person is all three. It would save me a lot of work, I can tell you.”
“How do you go about unravelling all of this?” Harriett asked.
“Slowly, Harriett, very slowly,” Mark sighed. He drew Harriett to a stop at the corner of the street and watched the door to the pub close behind Henrietta. Even from several yards away they could hear the ribald laughter and music from within the busy establishment before the doors rendered silence the successor once more. Mark glanced down at Harriett and briefly contemplated offering her a drink, but then decided against it. He really wanted these few precious moments with her. Her smaller frame against his stature made him feel particularly bold and protective.
The sudden rumble of carriage wheels broke the silence. Mark peered through the gloom toward the empty stretch of country lane that led out of the village. Harriett’s house was straight ahead, down Daventry Street. The pub lay to the left and the road that ran to Great Tipton lay to the right. Unfortunately, Tipton Hollow, being a country village, had very little in the way of street lights. The two gas lamps the village did have did very little to permeate the gloom. Although it heightened the intimacy of the evening, it did little to help them find their way home safely.
Harriett had spent most of the last several moments bolstering her courage, and opened her mouth to mention to Mark that she thought she had seen him in the tea shop the other day, when a sudden burst of activity to their right drew their attention. Even though she couldn’t see very much, the impression she got of the carriage was that its age was in stark contrast to the very large, very black horse that pulled it. Jet black from head to hoof, the whites of its eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as it bore down on them with the determination of an avenging angel.
A scream lodged in Harriett’s throat and she suddenly found herself hauled backwards. She clawed at Mark’s strong arms as he wrapped them tightly around her and hauled her bodily off her feet. He staggered backward and swung her around out of the way of the carriage as it mounted the path and ran over the spot where they had been standing.
“Are you alright?” Mark demanded. He released his hold, grabbed her shoulders and turned her around when she immediately didn’t answer him. “God, Harriett,” he muttered and hauled her bodily into his arms.
She couldn’t absorb what had just happened. Her gaze remained locked on the small square patch of ground where they had stood only moments earlier. She had been inches away from certain death.
“Why?” Harriett whispered. Her thoughts immediately turned to the very real warning that had been given at the table earlier.
“I don’t know, darling. But I can promise you that I am going to find out.” Despite the fact that they were in full view of anyone who might be looking out of their window, Mark continued to hold her. He kissed the top of her head as he stared down the road after the carriage. Although it had disappeared into the mist, the rumble of the wheels on the cobbles, accompanied by the rapid clip clop of the horse’s hooves, would remain with him for some time. Was the mysterious coachman the murderer?
“I need to go back to Beatrice’s house and see who has left. Will you come with me Harriett?” He tenderly placed one hand on her cheek and tipped her head up until her horrified gaze met his. The temptation to kiss her was so strong that his head began to lower. It was the fear that lingered in her eyes that stopped him. He would be the worst kind of eel to take advantage of her now, so instead he placed a tender kiss on her cheek and slowly eased released his hold on her.
Harriett nodded jerkily and fought the urge to protest as he removed the warmth of his embrace. She didn’t know if her legs would hold her up let alone manage to walk several hundred yards to Beatrice’s house, but she was propelled into motion by the firm arm he locked around her back. She was glad for his strength and didn’t attempt to hide the fact that she was blatantly leaning against him while they walked.
“Why are we going back?” She gasped and stared up at his chiselled face. It was so hard, so blank, that she wondered if the carriage had caught his foot or something. “Are you alright? Did it catch you?” Her eyes widened in alarm as her frantic gaze flew over him. “Do you think that this is connected to the threat that was issued at the séance?”
Mark smiled reassuringly despite the severity of what had just happened. He was thrilled that she was so worried about him. “I am fine, just worried about you, that’s all. Right now, we need to see who is still at Beatrice’s house because we can rule them out of being in the carriage.” Fear pulled at him and he couldn’t resist the urge to assure himself that she was really alright. He placed one blunt fingertip beneath her chin and tipped her face up to his. He was relieved to see nothing other than curiosity in her steady gaze and placed a lingering kiss on her startled lips. “Now can’t we?”
“We?” Harriett gulped. She quite liked the association but wasn’t sure what to make of it. She daren’t read more into his comment other than he wanted her to accompany him to Beatrice’s house, which she was going to do anyway. Right now, she would be happy to follow him anywhere he went. Her mind was strangely fogged from the briefest brush of his kiss. She barely had time to draw breath before she was once again propelled forward by the long arm he swept around her waist as he steered her toward Beatrice’s house.
r /> Her gaze locked firmly on the dark shadow of Beatrice’s front door and she tried desperately to quell the thoughts that tumbled through her. If anyone was still in Beatrice’s sitting room, she had to try to appear calm and in controlled, not flustered and shaken. She had known Beatrice for several years now and knew her friend would very easily pick up on Harriett’s distress.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Mark whispered as he encased Harriett’s cold fingers in his large warm palm. He gave them a gentle squeeze of reassurance and issued Beatrice his most winning smile when she opened the door. He grinned cheekily when she looked slightly taken back at his forthrightness but she stood back to let them in anyway.
Harriett didn’t have time to say anything before she was dragged into Harriett’s hallway. “I think I may have left my gloves here. Harriett’s fingers are cold and, well, I just thought that seeing as we are out and about, we could pop back to see if they were here. I can’t remember leaving the house with them this evening, to be honest with you.”
Mark glanced curiously around the front parlour as they entered and nodded to Mr Bentwhistle, Miss Haversham, Tuppence, Constance and Eloisa.
That rules them out then, Mark sighed, pleased for Harriett that none of her friends appeared to be involved. He glanced down at Harriett, and was aware that several of those present had noticed the fact that he was still held Harriett’s hand.
