The Sign of Death (Victorian Book Club Mystery 2)

“I can assure you, Mrs. Morton, that whatever anyone imagines Mr. Burton looks like, he will be nothing like that,” Amy said.

“Who cares what the man looks like?” Mr. Davidson, always the sour one, groused. “Burton writes great books. Nothing else matters.” He shook his head in disgust just as the music for the first dance of the evening began.

William held out his hand, and Amy moved into his arms as they began the dance. He wondered how his mother would view his relationship with Amy. No doubt Mother would be quite pleased to meet her. Amy was everything a woman of their class would want for her son. But Mother could also be a bit pushy, which might frighten Amy, who he knew was not as thrilled at the idea of marriage as he might like.

He shuddered to think about the first meeting between the two women.

Once the dance had ended, they headed to the refreshment table to partake of punch and lemonade. They’d each just taken a sip of warm liquid when Mr. Charles Lemmon approached them.

“Good evening, Wethington, Lady Amy.” He nodded and picked up a drink from the table behind them. “Bad news about Harding drowning.” He shook his head and sighed.

“Did you know him, Lemmon?”

He nodded. “Yes. He was my man of business. I understand he worked for you as well.” He seemed to hesitate for a minute, then leaned in close to William. “Did you notice anything odd about Harding the last few months?”

Amy glanced over at William. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

Lemmon took William by the elbow and moved him away from the few people near them. Amy walked right along with them.

Of course.

“Something doesn’t seem right. Or, I should say, something didn’t seem right.”

“How do you mean?” William decided it was better to see what Lemmon had to say instead of offering his scant information.

“Don’t wish to malign the dead, don’t you know, but I had a feeling things were … not as they should be.”

“Can you be more specific? I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

Lemmon huffed. “He was stealing from me.”

Well then. That didn’t leave any doubt.

“I see.”

“Had you seen the same thing? Or was it only me he was robbing?”

William didn’t want to say too much, since he had only just begun to suspect tomfoolery himself, but maybe he could gain more information if he admitted to finding some discrepancies. “Recently, I have had reason to believe that some numbers of mine didn’t match Harding’s.”

Lemmon nodded furiously. “Yes. That’s what I have found. A few of the reports he gave me didn’t match what my bank was saying.” He shrugged. “I’m having my solicitor look into the matter. Now that I have to deal with the estate myself instead of Harding, I’m sure it will take a very long time before I get answers.”

“Just so.”

They stared morosely at the dancers, both lost in their thoughts. Mr. Marshall approached them and requested a dance from Amy. It annoyed William to no end to watch Marshall take her by the hand and lead her to the dance floor. He could no longer pretend that he was unbothered by the attention paid to Amy by other men. It might be time to seriously consider staking his claim.

No one else approached him with inquiries into Harding’s affairs, but two other friends commented on the man’s untimely passing. Somehow word had gotten out that he’d been the one to identify the body.

He and Amy danced two spirited cotillions, and with all he had on his mind, he was not unhappy when she asked to leave. He’d spent too much time brooding and thinking about Harding and the mess that was beginning to unravel to really enjoy himself. He also felt a bit of guilt for not dancing with some of the other ladies who were lacking partners, but he had no desire to spend time with any woman besides Amy.

“It appears you were not the only one with questions about Mr. Harding’s management of their affairs.” Amy pulled the blanket around herself as the carriage rolled away from the Assembly hall. “Did anyone else approach you about Harding beside Mr. Lemmon?”

“No. A couple of others commented on his death and wondered how I had gotten to be the one to identify the body. But no one else mentioned any financial discrepancies.”

“I guess it is possible that he wasn’t fleecing all his clients. Or no one has learned it yet.” She paused. “Or perhaps they have been swindled and don’t want to discuss it.”

“I need to have access to his files.”

She straightened in her seat. “Break in?”