Otherwise Engaged

  “He is also quite attractive,” she added. She held her breath.

  Penny blinked a couple of times and looked into the fire. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes,” Amity said. “Not in the same manner as Mr. Stanbridge, of course, but in his own way the inspector is a fine-looking man.”

  Penny smiled wistfully. “Do you find Mr. Stanbridge handsome?”

  Amity hesitated, groping for the right words to explain Benedict’s appeal. “Mr. Stanbridge is perhaps better described as a force of nature. But that is hardly the point. What I am trying to say is that I’m quite sure that with both Mr. Stanbridge and Inspector Logan involved it is only a matter of time before the killer is caught.”

  “I hope you are correct.”

  Penny slipped away from Amity’s grasp.

  Amity watched her for a moment.

  “Penny, are you concerned because you find Inspector Logan attractive?” she asked.

  Penny did not reply. But she raised one hand to wipe tears away from her eyes.

  “Dear heaven.” Amity touched her sister’s shoulder. “Why are you crying? I cannot believe that it is because you feel that Mr. Logan is beneath you socially. I realize that most people in so-called Polite Society would think so, but I know you. You do not judge people based on the accident of their birth.”

  “It’s not that,” Penny said. She sniffed and blinked rapidly to suppress more tears. “I’m certain Mr. Logan is uncomfortably aware of the difference in our financial and social stations, so I doubt that he would even dream of approaching me in anything other than a respectful, professional manner.”

  Amity thought about the cozy little scene she and Benedict had interrupted a short time ago. “Something tells me that Inspector Logan might be persuaded to consider a more personal association with you if he was given the right encouragement.”

  Penny shook her head, very certain. “No, I’m sure he would never presume anything of the sort. His manner and demeanor are all that is proper.”

  “Hmm.” Amity summoned a mental image of Logan and could not recall seeing a ring on his left hand. “Please don’t tell me that he is married.”

  “No,” Penny said. “He told me that he was engaged at one time but his fiancée and her family concluded she could do better than to wed a policeman.”

  “Well, in that case, I see absolutely no reason why you should not feel free to explore any romantic feelings that might develop between yourself and the inspector.”

  A wary hope flickered to life in Penny’s eyes. It vanished almost at once. “I have only been in mourning for six months. Society—not to mention my in-laws—would be horrified if I abandoned my widow’s weeds so soon.”

  “Do you really care for Society’s opinion?”

  “At one time I did, yes.” Penny clenched one hand into a small fist. “But no longer.”

  “And as for your in-laws, forgive me, but I got the impression that you are not overly fond of them—nor they of you.”

  “They never approved of the marriage. They wanted Nigel to marry someone who could bring more money into the family. There is certainly no love lost between us. I think, in a way, that they blame me for Nigel’s death.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Amity said. “Nigel broke his neck going over a fence. How could anyone possibly blame you for that?”

  Penny’s mouth curved in a rueful smile. “You don’t know my in-laws.”

  “I suspect that what really annoys them is that you wound up with so much money from Nigel’s estate.”

  “You’re right, of course.”

  “As I recall, there are two other sons, a daughter and a vast fortune. They should not begrudge you the money and the house that you inherited from your husband.”

  “I appreciate your support more than you can ever know,” Penny said. “It has been very lonely here with you out of the country for weeks and months at a time.”

  “I can only imagine how much you must miss your dear Nigel.”

  Penny took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No, actually, I don’t miss him a bit. I hope the bastard is burning in hell.”

  Amity stared at her. “Sorry, I think I missed something. What did you say?”

  Penny looked at her. “I thought he was the love of my life. But Nigel Marsden proved to be a monster.”

  “What?”

  “I was plotting to leave him when he very conveniently broke his neck.”

  “Good heavens, Penny. I . . . don’t know what to say. I’m stunned.”

  Penny closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, Amity could see remembered pain, fear and rage.

  “At first I believed him to be merely overprotective,” Penny said. Her voice was low and even, almost detached. “It was rather charming for the first few months. I told myself that he loved me so much he wanted to take great care of me. But gradually he took away every piece of my life—my friends, my little pleasures such as the theater and walks in the countryside.”

  Amity was aghast. “You never gave me so much as a hint in your letters.”

  “Of course not. He insisted on reading every letter I wrote to you before it was mailed. He hated you. He said you were a bad influence on me. He said that about all of my friends, too. There was always something he did not like about everyone with whom I was accustomed to associate. Within three months the only visitors I was allowed to receive were his dreadful mother and his sister. He beat me if another man so much as spoke to me. He claimed that I was trying to seduce his male acquaintances.”

  “I do not know what to say,” Amity whispered. “I am beyond horrified. Father would have been so angry.”

  “It was not long before I found myself alone in the household all day and most nights with only the servants. I could not trust any of them. I knew Nigel asked them what I did while he was gone and whether I had left the house or received any callers.”

  “I would kill him if he were not already dead.”

  “I seriously considered poisoning him but I was afraid I might fail in the attempt. If that happened I knew that he would very likely murder me instead. I intended to disappear. He gave me no money, of course, but there were valuables everywhere in the house. I was going to take some, pawn them and buy a ticket on a passenger ship to New York. I planned to telegraph you as soon as I was free and beg you to meet me.”

  “Why didn’t you send for me? I would have come at once.”

  “I was afraid of what he might do to you if you actually came to stay with us. I told you, he hated you. I think, deep down, he saw you as a threat. But knowing that you were out there in the world—free—is what kept me from sinking into the abyss. I told myself that if I could just escape the house and disappear, I would be able to find you.”

  Tears blurred Amity’s vision. “Penny, my beautiful little sister. When I think of what you must have gone through. So alone. No wonder you sold the big house and dismissed all the servants. Hah. I imagine that came as a shock to that lot. I do hope you turned them out without any references.”

  “I did precisely that.” Penny gave her a misty smile. “I will admit I took some pleasure in telling them that their services were no longer required.”

  “I can certainly understand why you are not on good terms with Nigel’s family.”

  “In fairness, I’m not sure they knew exactly what was going on. Nigel always put on a great show of being an attentive husband whenever his mother was around. So much so that I think his mother was actually jealous of me. She made a few attempts to convince me to let her solicitor manage my finances after Nigel died.”

  “But you knew you could not trust her to look after your best interests.”

  “Definitely not,” Penny said. “One of the first things I did after the will was read was dismiss Nigel’s solicitor and hire Mr. Burton to oversee my bus
iness affairs.”

  “Burton handled Papa’s affairs and now he handles mine. You can trust him. He’s getting on in years and is semiretired, but his son is taking over the business and doing a fine job.”

  “I admit I don’t find it easy to trust anyone except you these days.”

  “You have taken back your life,” Amity said. “I am in awe of your strength and bravery. You are an inspiration, Penny, a fine example of the modern, independent woman.”

  “Bah, I am no shining example. I was a fool for allowing myself to believe in a fairy-tale kind of love. You are the one who set out to see the world and now you are going to publish a travel guide for other adventurous ladies. You are the shining example of modern womanhood, not me.”

  “I disagree,” Amity said gently. “What I have done requires no particular strength of character, just a deeply ingrained streak of curiosity. But let us not quarrel over which of us is the more modern woman. I am just so very sorry that I did not know what you were going through in your marriage.”

  “You did not know because I could not risk telling you. I feared that if Nigel found out that I had confided in you, he might actually murder me and possibly you, as well, when you showed up to save me.” Penny smiled. “Which I knew you would do, of course.”

  Amity shuddered and wrapped her arms around Penny. “It infuriates me to know that if he had killed you, he likely would have gotten away with murder. I expect that there would have been a story about how you came to fall down a flight of steps or some such nonsense.”

  “And his wealthy family would have protected him from any police inquiry that you might have tried to launch.”

  Amity thought about that for a moment.

  “Just as someone in Society is very likely concealing the identity of the Bridegroom,” she said.

  Fourteen

  It’s that famous travel photographer to see you, Miss Amity.” Mrs. Houston hovered in the doorway of the study. She was flushed a bright pink. “Mr. Nash, the gentleman who journeys around the world taking pictures of strange monuments and elephants and the like.”

  “Mr. Nash is here to see me?” Amity set aside the list of names she had been studying. She had heard the low murmur of voices from the front hall a moment ago, but she had assumed that the caller was Inspector Logan. She was not sure how to take the news that it was Humphrey instead. She looked at Penny. “He did say he wanted to speak with me in private, but I never dreamed he might pay us a visit.”

  Penny set her pen back in the stand. A troubled expression crossed her face. “I wonder what he wants?”

  “You heard him last night at the reception.” Amity rose quickly. “He wishes to discuss our mutual impressions of various destinations we have both visited.”

  Mrs. Houston lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I must say, he is a very handsome gentleman.”

  “I thought so at one time myself, Mrs. Houston,” Amity said. “Please show him into the drawing room. I will be along in a moment.”

  “Yes, Miss Amity.”

  Mrs. Houston went back down the hallway. Amity hurried to the gilt mirror that hung on the wall and pinned up a few stray strands of hair.

  “I am so glad I decided to put on one of my new day gowns this morning,” she said.

  Penny studied the multi-striped dress with a considering eye. “It is very becoming. But I was under the impression that you chose that dress this morning because we are expecting Mr. Stanbridge.”

  “True,” Amity admitted. “Not that Mr. Stanbridge is in the habit of taking any notice of a lady’s gown.”

  “Do not be too sure of that.”

  Amity turned, smiling ruefully. “Mr. Stanbridge possesses many sterling qualities, but in my experience he is rather oblivious to fashion. Will you join Mr. Nash and me in the parlor?”

  Penny studied her with a shrewd expression. “Do you want me to join you?”

  Amity considered the question for a moment. “He will likely be more honest about his reasons for calling on me if there are just the two of us.”

  “I agree. I cannot help but remember what Mr. Stanbridge said last night. He is convinced that Humphrey Nash wants something from you.”

  “The thing is, I can’t imagine what I have that Humphrey might want.”

  “Perhaps he will tell you that he made a mistake all those years ago when he left you behind to travel the world.”

  “I must admit that would be rather gratifying,” Amity said. She smiled. “Not that I’m the vengeful sort.”

  Penny laughed. “Of course not.” She paused, her amusement fading. “Perhaps I should accompany you.”

  “I appreciate your concern but there is no need to worry about me. One thing is certain. Mr. Nash cannot break my heart again—assuming that is what happened when I was nineteen. I have recovered quite nicely, I believe.”

  “I am aware of that,” Penny said. “But you are the only family I have left in the world. It is only natural that I wish to protect you.”

  Amity went back across the room and touched Penny’s hand. “And you are all the family that I possess. We will take care of each other. I will never leave you alone again, Penny. I swear it.”

  “That is very kind of you, but you were born for a life of travel and adventure. I would not dream of tying you to London.”

  Amity shook her head. “I meant it. I will not leave you alone. But we will discuss our future some other time. Now I must see if Mr. Nash does, indeed, want anything more from me than a lively discussion of ancient monuments and foreign landscapes.”

  She whisked up her skirts and went along the hall to the door of the drawing room. Humphrey was standing at the window looking out at the small park across the street. He turned when he heard her approach. His smile was warm and friendly. So were his eyes. He was, Amity reflected, just as handsome and just as charming today as he had been last night.

  He crossed the room and bowed low over her hand.

  “Amity, thank you so much for seeing me today.”

  “I must say I am rather surprised by this visit.” She retrieved her hand and indicated a chair. “Please, won’t you sit down?”

  “Thank you.”

  Humphrey lowered himself into one of the formal chairs. Mrs. Houston appeared with the tea tray. She set it on the table.

  “Shall I pour, Miss Amity?” she asked.

  “I will take care of the tea,” Amity said coolly. She decided that it was not the time to inform Mrs. Houston that tea had not been ordered. The housekeeper was only doing what was expected of her.

  Mrs. Houston retreated but she left the door open. Amity picked up the pot, poured a cup of tea and handed the cup and saucer to Humphrey. He took it with well-bred grace.

  “Before we begin I must ask if the police have made any progress in finding the monster that attacked you,” Humphrey said.

  “I am told that they are searching for him day and night,” Amity said.

  “The fact that his body has not turned up is a rather ominous sign, don’t you think?” Humphrey swallowed some tea and lowered the cup. “It indicates he may have survived.”

  Amity wondered if the conversation was destined to take the same unpleasant turn that it had taken with Arthur Kelbrook. She did not intend to regale Humphrey with the details of her escape from the killer’s carriage.

  “That is a distinct possibility,” she said. “But I am sure it is only a matter of time before the police find him or his body.”

  “I certainly hope so. It is a sad day when a respectable lady who has traveled safely to the far corners of the globe cannot walk the streets of London in the middle of the day without being assaulted.”

  “Indeed.”

  Humphrey smiled approvingly. “But the Bridegroom certainly picked the wrong victim when he attacked you. I congratulate you on your amazing esca
pe, my dear.”

  The “my dear” made her grit her teeth. He had no business speaking to her in such a familiar fashion. But she was not about to kick him out of the house until she knew why he had come to see her.

  “Thank you,” she said instead. “I was rather pleased myself that I managed to escape, especially considering the alternative. Now, if you don’t mind, sir, I would rather discuss another subject—any other subject.”

  Humphrey looked chagrined. “How very insensitive of me. I swear I did not mean to focus on such a disturbing topic. I merely intended to convey my great admiration for your daring and bravery. The truth, however, is that I came here today for an entirely different reason.”

  “Last night you indicated that you wanted to compare our observations on various foreign locales.”

  “Actually, I wanted to do more than compare notes.” Humphrey picked up one of the small tea cakes on the tray and took a bite. “I believe I mentioned my admiration for your writing talent. The essays you pen for the Flying Intelligencer are quite remarkable. I am told that readers await each piece with the same eagerness that they await the next installment of whatever sensation novel the paper happens to be publishing.”

  Amity blushed. “I am very pleased that my little essays have attracted an audience.”

  “Quite a large audience, I understand. My own talents, whatever they may be, are confined to the field of photography.”

  His uncharacteristic modesty amused her.

  “You are quite brilliant with a camera, sir,” she said briskly. “As no doubt you are well aware. I would also add that you are a very entertaining speaker. So many of those who lecture on the subject of exploration and travel have a gift for putting the audience to sleep. But last night the crowd hung on your every word.”

  “Thank you.” A determined glint appeared in Humphrey’s eyes. “Our talents appear to complement each other very well, wouldn’t you say?”

  Now they were getting to the heart of the matter, Amity thought.

  “Well, I had not thought about it in quite those terms,” she said, “but I suppose one could say that was true. Your photographs certainly speak volumes.”