“Yes.” William darted a glance toward Amy.
“What?”
“He just spotted me and is coming this way.”
Within minutes, William broke into a smile and extended his hand. “Mr. Harris, good to see you.”
The nephew slapped William on the back and turned to Amy. “And who is this lovely creature?”
“Lady Amy Lovell, may I present to you Mr. Francis Harris.”
“Indeed? Lady Amy? I see now why my uncle was willing to surrender his bachelorhood.” He took Amy’s extended hand and kissed it. She quelled the urge to wipe it on her gown.
“A pleasure, Mr. Harris.” Once again apologizing to God for the little white lie, she eased her hand behind her and rubbed the back of it on the tablecloth covering the area holding the drinks and other refreshments.
There was indeed something “off” about Mr. St. Vincent’s nephew. It was not in his looks, which were quite pleasant. Where Mr. St. Vincent had dark hair and brown eyes, Mr. Harris’s hair was more of a light brown, with hazel eyes. He stood about equal in height with William and filled out his clothing quite well.
Something in his eyes troubled her, though. He reminded her of someone who was keeping a secret from everyone else and thought it to be quite a joke. “Are you staying long in Bath, Mr. Harris?”
“Please, call me Francis. I always think of my father as Mr. Harris.”
She had no intention of calling him Francis or anything else, since she did not plan to spend much time with the man. To her dismay, the musicians started up another waltz and Harris turned to her. “May I have the honor of this dance, Lady Amy?”
Sometimes she wished good manners had not been so instilled into her by her governesses. She would have loved more than anything to refuse and resume her walk with William. But then again, perhaps as a woman she could gain information from him that William had been unable to unearth. “Yes, of course, Mr. Harris.”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. ’Twas not as crowded as it had been earlier when she and William had danced, so there was more room to move around. Mr. Harris proved to be quite an accomplished dancer, and despite her initial reluctance to accept his request for a dance, she found herself relaxing.
“I find I am very much in your debt, Lady Amy.” His smile did not wipe away the uneasiness she felt at his comment and the hairs that rose at the back of her neck.
“And why is that, Mr. Harris?” she asked with a suddenly dry mouth.
“Why, for my uncle, of course.” He moved them in a graceful turn and studied her for a moment. “I have you to thank for killing him.”
CHAPTER 12
Amy came to an abrupt halt and stared at Mr. Harris. The couple to their rear crashed into them, the man mumbling something insulting as they skirted around. The woman turned and glared at them.
“Although I find it in extremely bad taste, I assume you are attempting some sort of a joke?”
The horrid man continued to grin as he nudged her to continue with the dance. “Not at all. Uncle was found dead in your library with no one else about. You had broken the engagement a few days before. What else am I to assume? So, I thank you. As soon as the will is read, I will be a wealthy man.”
Had it not been the height of rudeness, Amy would have kneed Mr. Harris right where it would hurt the most. In fact, her body shook with the need to wreak some sort of violence upon the man. She was so flabbergasted she couldn’t even speak. It was as if her mind was frozen while her body continued to move with the music.
“I should like to take you for a ride sometime. Again, I must remark on how easily Uncle had fallen under your spell after swearing for years he would never marry. A beautiful woman will win every time.” He lowered his voice. “And let’s face facts, Lady Amy. If we are to enjoy each other’s company, it must be soon, since the police will probably arrest you shortly.” Mr. Harris’s smirk was all the motivation she needed. Seething with anger, she shook her head and pushed at his chest so he was forced to release her.
“What is wrong?” The cur had the nerve to look surprised.
She could hold it in no longer. She drew her arm back and slammed her fist into his face. Not the delicate slap or light tap to which most women would resort. Amy put everything into that punch, to the point that her arm ached.
Mr. Harris reared back, stumbled, and landed on his arse. Had she her newly acquired Kodak at hand, she would have taken a picture of the stunned expression on his face to enjoy for the rest of her days.
All the couples in the area stopped and stared at her with horror and Harris with a puzzled expression. Her breath was coming so hard and so fast, she was afraid she would pass out again. Black dots continued to swim in front of her eyes, and a loud buzzing commenced in her ears.
A warm, secure arm wrapped around her waist. “Time to leave, my dear.” William walked her forward, even though she swore her legs wouldn’t move. They made their way through the now silent room, the guests parting like the Red Sea, to the exit, where William grabbed their coats from the man at the door.
“Aunt Margaret!” Amy finally recovered herself enough to know they had left her aunt behind.
“Right here, dear.” Aunt Margaret’s comforting voice and strong arm wrapped around her shoulders as William led them both from the building.