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ndered if the detectives had gone to Mrs. Johnson’s house and notified Patrick of her death. William still hadn’t reported back to Mrs. Whitney about her stepson.
First and foremost, he needed to find the person who had already killed two people and attempted to kill him and Amy. With the police focused solely on him, he and Amy had to unravel the mess and find the real killer.
He blanched, imagining the harsh feel of a rope around his neck.
* * *
Amy rested on the settee and held Lady Wethington’s ice-cold hand. The now-cool teapot and half-empty cups sat on the small table in front of them.
“I cannot believe my son was arrested for murder.” Lady Wethington had been repeating these words nonstop since the detectives and William left the house. Amy’s assurances that of course William would never do such a thing as kill anyone failed to make his mother feel better.
“Perhaps I should escort you to your bedchamber and you can take a tisane to help you sleep for a while,” Amy suggested.
Lady Wethington shook her head. “I could not sleep a wink until I know this nonsense has come to an end.” She gripped Amy’s hand so tight that Amy thought the bones in her hand would snap. “Suppose they keep him in jail? That would be horrible.”
“I think we should not worry about that. William has an excellent barrister who would never allow that to happen.”
“Why? Why my son?” Lady Wethington wailed, for about the seventieth time since Amy had arrived. Amy knew why, but there was no reason to share her information with her ladyship.
Someone had been at the pub, sitting in darkness, and overheard their exchange with Mrs. Johnson, then decided to kill the woman before she could tell Amy and William what she knew. Since Mrs. Johnson worked in the pub and had seen Harding collecting his blackmail money any number of times, it was quite possible she could have pointed them to the killer.
Now, instead of having that vital information, William was sitting in jail, and Amy was trying to keep Lady Wethington from jumping out the window.
“You know I am fond of you, Amy. You don’t mind if I call you Amy, do you?”
“No. Of course not. Why don’t you remove your shoes and lie down for a while? I can get you a lavender cloth for your head.”
Lady Wethington bent to remove her shoes while Amy rang for a maid and asked to have a cool cloth sprinkled with lavender for William’s mother.
Once she was free of her shoes, Lady Wethington shifted so that she was lying on the sofa. Amy placed a pillow under her head, and the woman closed her eyes and was silent for a few minutes. The young maid returned with the cloth and handed it to Amy, who placed it on Lady Wethington’s forehead.
The woman sighed. “You are such a lovely young lady. And so very good with my son.” She wiped her nose on her soggy handkerchief. “He needs a wife.” She opened her eyes and looked pointedly at Amy. “Soon. I am not getting any younger, and I need grandchildren. Grandchildren who live near enough for me to actually hold them and spoil them.”
Amy didn’t think this was the best time to travel in that direction, so she diverted the conversation. “You are quite young, my lady. I am sure you have many, many years ahead of you to enjoy grandchildren.”
She was silent for a few minutes, and Amy thought she had fallen asleep. Then she wailed, “Why?” for the seventy-first time.
The front door opened, and Amy let out a huge sigh of relief when she heard William’s voice. She prayed it was all a mistake and he had been released for good.
“How is she?” he asked as he walked over to where Amy sat with his mother.
“I am not well, son. This horrid business has upset me profoundly.” She took the cloth off her head and sat up. “Please tell me it was a misunderstanding and life can return to normal.”
William sat in the chair across from the sofa, his legs spread, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I’m sorry, Mother, but it is not all over.”
When she began to wail, he continued, “However, Mr. Nelson-Graves appeared on my behalf in front of the magistrate today, and I was released on bond.”
“My lady, now that you know his lordship is home safe and sound, can I persuade you to retire to your bedchamber for a lie-down? I think it will do you well.” Amy looked down at the distraught woman, feeling sympathy for her. It must be a horrible thing to have your child charged with murder.
“I think you are right. Will you accompany me upstairs, Amy?”
“Of course.” As she took Lady Wethington’s arm and they proceeded up the stairs, William made a beeline for the brandy bottle sitting on the sideboard.
* * *
William and Amy settled into his carriage, and after a tap on the ceiling, the vehicle moved forward.
They were on their way to the book club meeting. This was the first time he and Amy had been together since he’d been arrested the day before. Once his mother had retired to her room, William had given Amy a brief overview of what happened at the police station. They had decided to take the rest of the day apart so they could calm themselves and ponder what their next steps should be.
