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As much as he had the strong desire to hide away in his library and consider the chaos his life had become, he felt it was better to carry on with his normal routine until it could all be resolved.

“I am concerned about Persephone,” Amy said before the carriage had gone more than a few feet.

Ah, the ghastly dog. “Why is that?”

“She is still extremely clingy. Would you believe I had to fool her into believing I was going to the water closet so I could sneak out of the house today?”

William shook his head. “That, my dear, is ridiculous.”

“Maybe so, but I am concerned.” She grasped the strap hanging by her head when the vehicle hit a hole in the road. “They need to fix these streets.”

“Agreed.”

She adjusted her hat, which had slid backward when they hit the gap. “Have you had any ideas?”

There was certainly no reason to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Yes. Right now we have Miss Gertrude and Mrs. Burrows who were being blackmailed and Mrs. Whitney whom Harding was cheating. All women. That is a bit disconcerting. I also find it near impossible to imagine any of them killing two people.”

“Why do you dismiss them because they are women?” Amy asked, her brows raised.

“I’m not sure, but I just can’t see a woman killing two people.”

She grinned. “It’s happened before.”

Remembering the case last year, he grinned back. “Ah, but it wasn’t two deaths attributed to her, only one.”

He gathered his thoughts for a minute. “Montrose claimed he was out of town, but I want to check that. He certainly seemed agitated enough with Harding to have done him harm. Patrick was quite sick when the murder took place, and Lemmon seemed more interested in having his solicitor straighten out his finances than in doing anything to Harding.” William leaned his head back and took in a deep breath. “I’m scared, Amy.”

She reached across and took his hand. “I know.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “If we can’t come up with the true killer, I might spend the rest of my life in prison, or worse yet, swinging from a rope.”

“Stop!” She squeezed his hand. “We will find the murderer. We will.”

Mr. Colbert hurried up to them as William and Amy entered the room at the back of the bookstore for the meeting. “How is your mother? I heard she had taken ill.”

William frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“We are supposed to attend the theater tomorrow, if you recall, and I received a missive from her today that she was not feeling up to joining me.”

“I am sorry, Mr. Colbert. I know Amy and I were to attend also, but I’m afraid we will be unable to join you as well.”

Colbert waved them off as if he and Amy were of no importance if his mother couldn’t go.

“How ill is she?” Colbert looked concerned.

Mr. Colbert was certainly someone he could trust, but he preferred to keep the bulk of the story to himself. “I had a bit of a legal issue which has caused Lady Wethington undue stress.”

“Legal issue? You do know I am a solicitor. Can I help you in any way?”

It depends. Do you know who killed the two people that I am being accused of murdering?

“No, I have my solicitor working on it. I’m sure my mother will be up and about in a few days.”

“May I call on her?”

As much as William did not care for Mr. Colbert pursuing his mother, perhaps a visit from him would cheer her up. “Yes. You may call on her. Send a missive around so she will be prepared for your visit.”

“Thank you.” The glow on the man’s face surprised him. Could it be the man really cared for his mother and didn’t have nefarious intentions? Life was so topsy-turvy lately that anything was possible.

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