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William cleared his throat. “Actually, she intends to take up permanent residence with me.”
Mr. Davidson snorted, and the two ladies offered William a warm smile. “How very nice of you to offer your mother a place in your home.” Miss Gertrude placed her hand on William’s arm and patted it as if he were a small child. Or a pet dog. “Very few children are so considerate.”
“Am I in the right place?” Lady Wethington’s voice carried to the front of the room, where the group stood.
“Yes, Mother. Come join us,” William said, holding out his hand.
Lady Wethington glided up to them and smiled at the group. William made the introductions, and Amy was amused to see a look of stunned admiration on Mr. Colbert’s face.
Lady Wethington was an attractive woman. A widow for many years, she could certainly turn heads. Her light-brown hair had a fine thread of gray mixed throughout, while her skin had remained youthful, with mere delicate lines along her mouth and eyes. Eyes that could capture a person’s attention—bright, lively, and full of humor. And she possessed a voluptuous figure that would catch any man’s notice.
The rest of the group began to arrive, and the chattering went from subdued to loud enough that Mr. Colbert called the meeting to order.
They all took their seats on various sofas and chairs, and just as Mr. Colbert opened his mouth to speak, the door opened, and Eloise raced in. She plopped down next to Amy and placed her hand over her chest as she drew in deep breaths. “I see I’m late again.”
“More like always,” Miss Sterling offered with a sniff.
Eloise nudged Amy and mouthed, “Who is that?” She nodded toward Lady Wethington.
“I will introduce you later. She is Wethington’s mother.”
Eloise’s eyebrows rose. Then she smiled and covered her mouth with her hand to hold in a laugh. Amy rolled her eyes at her friend as Mr. Colbert addressed the group.
The meeting went as most meetings did. Miss Penelope and Miss Gertrude offered opinions on the club’s current book, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde—opinions that not only surprised Amy but impressed her. Amy was particularly excited and pleased when the sisters mentioned one of her own books.
Lady Wethington remained silent for the most part, but whenever she spoke, Mr. Colbert gave her his undivided attention, a slight smile on his lips.
“I think your mother has an admirer,” Amy whispered to William.
“She does not need an admirer,” he snapped.
Amy almost swallowed her tongue trying to keep the laughter in. It appeared William was very protective of his mother and had every intention of guarding her virtue.
Later, as the little group from the bookstore who generally stopped at a local restaurant after the meeting convened for a late supper, William appeared no more pleased with Mr. Colbert when the man finagled his way into a seat next to Lady Wethington’s, then focused all his consideration on her the entire time.
Amy had much more fun watching William watch Mr. Colbert. And glower.
Since no one appeared to be paying much attention to her, she turned to William while they were enjoying their meal. She lowered her voice. “Why is Mr. DuBois no longer on our list of suspects?”
William took a sip of his wine and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I stopped in to see Mr. Nick Smith today after our interview with the police. Do you know the man?”
Amy shook her head. “The name does sound familiar, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
“He was the former owner of the Lion’s Den, a high-class gambling hell in Bath. He sold it several years back after he married his wife, Lady Pamela Manning, the Earl of Mulgrave’s sister. He then used the money to invest in hotels and restaurants. Smith comes from a shady background, and although he is now above reproach in all things, he maintains his contacts in the underworld.
“I thought if anyone knew about DuBois, it would be Nick. As it turns out, he did know DuBois and told me the man’s been back in prison for the last six weeks.”
Amy huffed. “He must have gone back soon after he sent Mr. Harding the note. In any event, it appears we can cross him off our list.”
“Yes. Which is probably a good thing, since I had no idea how to unearth the man without us getting killed.”
She perked up. “We could always buy a gun.”
William drew in a deep breath. “No. No gun, Amy.” He shook his head. “I don’t like this obsession you have with guns.”
“The protagonists in my books always have a gun handy.” Amy lowered her voice. “In fact, in my last book, the female character had a gun. She also could shoot quite well.”
“Fiction, my dear. You can control the gun in fiction. You cannot do the same in real life.”
