AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Amy offered him a sick smile and again prayed for the floor to open and swallow her. Two years’ allowance to the church.
* * *
The following Monday, Amy’s ears still blistered from the tongue-lashing Papa had given her on the ride home from William’s house. To say he was displeased was a gross understatement.
It had been quite surprising—and painful—when Lady Wethington made her announcement. If she noticed the strange reactions from everyone else in the room, she did not show it.
Shortly after that, Amy and her family had taken their leave.
Presently, she was waiting for Aunt Margaret to join her in the drawing room. They were making afternoon calls, something Amy viewed as akin to suffering from ague.
Her main motivation was Aunt Margaret’s assurance that Mrs. Whitney would be at one of the three places they planned to visit. Amy prayed she was at the first one so she could return home with her brain still intact. Gossiping women turned her mind to mush.
“I’m ready.” Aunt Margaret sailed into the room, pulling on her gloves. As always, she looked wonderfully put together. Her deep-green wool suit with black piping accentuated her warm brown eyes. Although her aunt bemoaned he
r straight brown hair, she always managed to keep every hair slicked back and in place.
Amy, on the other hand, dealt with her messy curls by fixing them into a sort of chignon from which obstinate strands escaped before she had even put on her hat. Whereas Aunt Margaret was always impeccably dressed and graceful as a swan, Amy was not at all graceful or stylish, and considered herself well dressed if her shoes matched.
Giving her niece a quick once-over, Aunt Margaret rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. “Time to leave.”
Amy looked down at herself. Did she truly look that bad?
Their first stop was the home of Lady Ambrose, a woman Amy had difficulty tolerating. Lady Ambrose loved gossip and scandal more than most. She had relished telling Amy all sorts of newsy gossip last year when Amy was forced to abide the woman’s company to gain information on Mr. St. Vincent’s murder.
Lady Ambrose also hosted a sewing circle each week in which the ladies made baby clothes for the unfortunate. Amy liked to think that this at least revealed some goodness in the woman.
When they arrived, one of the first women they spotted was Mrs. Whitney—thank you, lord—enjoying tea, along with Miss Everhart and Mrs. Welling.
With a little help from Aunt Margaret, Amy managed to finagle her way into the seat right next to Mrs. Whitney’s.
The ladies were listening to Mrs. Welling tell the story of her daughter and how ungrateful the young lady was because she refused to allow Mrs. Welling to move into her house with her husband and five children.
Amy couldn’t help but think that Mrs. Welling must be a difficult person to live with, since her daughter had passed on the opportunity to have her mother’s help with all those children.
Once Aunt Margaret began what Amy knew was going to be a very lengthy story about her recent visit with the Woods family, Amy used the time to strike up a side conversation with Mrs. Whitney.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Whitney. Did you enjoy the Assembly dance last week?”
The woman smiled brightly, the fine lines at the edges of her eyes more visible. “Yes. I did. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Mrs. Whitney bent closer to Amy and spoke softly. “I heard that you and Lord Wethington are trying to uncover who killed Mr. Harding.”
Well then. It seemed gossip and news did spread fast in the community.
“We are asking a few questions, but only because Lord Wethington employed Mr. Harding and he is now concerned about some of his holdings.”
Mrs. Whitney snorted. “I certainly didn’t trust him. I wasn’t happy when my husband’s will was read and I learned that Mr. Harding was the trustee of my trust. I just hope that when the court appoints a new trustee, he can learn how much Mr. Harding stole from me.”
Mrs. Whitney paused as she took a sip of tea. “I will tell you what my main concern is.” She leaned even closer and lowered her voice again. “My stepson Patrick.”
“Oh, why is that?”
She twisted the handkerchief she held in her hands. “He was also concerned that Mr. Harding was stealing from me and made some vague threats. Patrick disappeared right around the same time Mr. Harding was killed. I haven’t seen him since.”
CHAPTER 15
Amy sat patiently in the drawing room, waiting for William to arrive. She’d told William at church two days before that they needed to discuss Mr. Harding’s murder and their next steps. After Mrs. Whitney’s revelation at Lady Ambrose’s tea yesterday about Patrick going missing, she felt they had a genuine lead to follow. It was too much of a coincidence that the stepson had disappeared the same night Harding was killed. Especially if he had learned that Harding was stealing from his stepmother’s trust.
