Now what in the Devil’s name could she be up to?
Moss was intrigued even though he knew he shouldn’t be. It was none of his business what the young woman got up to. But the investigator in him knew she was up to mischief and he wanted to know what it was. It seemed wrong that someone like Clementine should be blighted by criminality, if that is indeed what distracted her. While he couldn’t make that decision yet, Moss suspected that Clementine looked guilty enough to have done something she knew was wrong and that had to be criminal.
How can someone that beautiful commit a crime?
It was incomprehensible to Moss who tried not to stare but was absorbed by the vision she presented. He was a man after all, she was delicate and beautiful if in a somewhat matter-of-fact way. There were no lavish embellishments on her somewhat simple, if a little understated dress, but that didn’t detract from her beauty. The delicate fabric of the gown was liberally adorned with tiny rosebuds which accentuated the perfection of the wearer, as most well-designed gowns should do. The pale pink of the fabric highlighted the delicate bloom on Clementine’s porcelain features which glowed with a vibr
ancy that was enchanting. Together with the merry sparkle in her whisky coloured eyes and faint dimples bracketing the luscious bounty of her delicate lips, Clementine Marlborough was perfection personified, or as good as.
“Yes,” the Captain replied. He frowned a little at Clementine. “I say, you have been told about her, haven’t you?”
“Yes. I received the unfortunate news from the vicar this morning.” Clementine mentally winced when the Captain looked enquiringly at the house, silently asking why she had been in there. “Sally gave me the key a few weeks ago when she went to visit her sister. I have just been in to tidy up. You know, to save Dotty, her sister.” Clementine flicked a look at Moss to try to judge if he doubted her, but his face remained so impassively polite it was difficult to tell. “I don’t know what state she will be in. Dotty, that is. It doesn’t seem right that she should face the house in a mess after the doctor and the funeral director and all that. But it seems that someone else has already been in there.”
Now that, Moss didn’t doubt. He too frowned at the house, not least because Clementine’s voice trialled off as if something deeply troubled her.
“Have you seen any sign of a disturbance?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” Clementine murmured vaguely. She paused while she allowed her troubled thoughts to settle and looked up in time to see the worried look the men exchanged. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. It is just that as I went in just now, I caught someone else leaving. As far as I know the only people who have keys to the house are me and Mrs Saunders next door. She found Sally this morning. Yet someone else was in the house. I just don’t know how they got in there.” Clementine studied the key in her hand and sighed heavily. “Sally’s death is all so very unexpected.”
“Would you like us to escort you home?” The Captain offered gently. “I know you were friends with Sally, weren’t you?”
“We were working on the fair together,” Clementine murmured absently. She jerked and sucked in a breath when she realised the men were still staring at her. “But no, thank you. I have a few things to pick up from the village before I go home. I was just passing Sally’s house and thought I would pop in to make sure everything was tidy, that’s all.”
She offered the men a reassuring smile but knew it didn’t meet her eyes and certainly didn’t convince Moss who continued to study her sceptically. When their eyes met, there was a shadow of a suspicion in his that warned her he knew she was not being honest. Thankfully, he didn’t confront her about it, even though she suspected he wanted to.
“Well, I had best be on my way then,” she offered with a smile she truly didn’t feel.
Clementine was so fed up of the skittishness she always felt whenever she even saw Moses Banfield-Moss that she was almost glaring when she looked at him again. Her annoyance with herself, with him, with everything in general, grew even more when he smiled at her, but in a knowing kind of way that made her want to demand to know why he was smirking.
Insufferable oaf – or he would be if he wasn’t so damned handsome. And he smells nice too.
With another sigh, Clementine nodded at them both before she hurried off. When she reached the end of the street, she looked over her shoulder and mentally cursed when she saw they had both turned to watch her. With a half-hearted smile, she hurried off, glad to leave them both well behind.
CHAPTER THREE
Unfortunately, distance did nothing to help Clementine forget the man who had the power to turn her world upside down with almost no effort at all. As she walked through the village, she found her thoughts locked on Moss no matter how hard she tried to think of something else.
“I am a dithering mess whereas he doesn’t even seem to know I am alive,” she muttered in disgust. “Well, of course he knows I am alive because he has just spoken to me, but he doesn’t see me as me. Oh dear, I am not making any sense at all.”
“Pardon?”
Clementine jerked when she released that she was no longer alone, and that she still hadn’t been to see Mrs Saunders yet. With a mental curse, she looked up to find herself the object of another man’s frown this morning, only this time, Mr Cavanagh was the one looking askance at her.
“Good morning, Miss Marlborough,” he called with a ready smile.
“Oh, good morning, Mr Cavanagh,” she replied with an uncharacteristic exuberance that made Mr Cavanagh look around warily.
“It is sad news, isn’t it?” Mr Cavanagh added several moments later when a lengthy silence had fallen upon them.
Clementine, who was eager to be on her way so she could contemplate what she had discovered this morning, stopped in the process of being on her way and turned to look at the elder gentleman. Mr Cavanagh was looking at her somewhat curiously.
“Yes, it is,” she replied softly, wondering how many times she had to go through this exact same conversation.
Maybe I should just go home and stay there until people find something else to talk about? I don’t want to keep having this conversation, not least because I still haven’t absorbed the reality of Sally’s death myself yet.
“I am sure that sister of hers will be mightily upset,” Mr Cavanagh murmured.
“Yes, she will, as we all are,” Clementine agreed. She mentally winced when Mr Cavanagh’s gaze slid from the road behind her, and the retreating backs of Moss and the Captain, and then back to her again.