A Study in Murder (Victorian Book Club Mystery 1)

“Perfectly. She knew I would not abide marrying a man who did such a thing, and by sending me that note, it was practically guaranteed I would end our engagement, leaving him free to marry her.”

“Except we now know he would not have married her anyway, since he needed money, and you stated it is your belief that Miss Hemphill does not come with a large amount of blunt.”

William turned them back toward the park entrance, where they had left his carriage. Nothing more was said about either Miss Hemphill or St. Vincent. Amy was almost relieved. This matter had taken over her entire life to the point that she wasn’t even able to plan her next story. Something that had never happened to her before.

Deciding a short nap would restore her, she looked forward to her return home and enjoyed the ride back to her house, gazing out the window as they made their way through Bath.

“Shall I see you at the book club meeting on Thursday?” William shifted as the carriage came to a stop and opened the door.

“Yes. I plan to attend. Right now all I can think about is putting all of this from my mind.”

“I agree that would be a good idea.” He helped her out of the vehicle, and they had started up the steps when Amy’s head whipped around. “Goodness gracious!” She slipped free of William’s arm and picked up her skirts, racing around to the back of the house.

“Amy! Where are you going?”

There was no time to answer him, and she continued on, the sound of William’s feet slamming against the patio stones right behind her.

“Why are we running?” He had caught up to her as they both maintained their pace.

“Mr. Albright,” she panted. She’d seen him in the garden as they had started up the front steps. It appeared he had seen her as well and ducked behind the gardener’s shed. There weren’t a lot of places he could hide.

“There.” William pointed to Mr. Albright climbing the fence behind the shed. William sped up and reached the fence just as Mr. Albright landed on the other side. He continued to run, but William climbed over, and in less than a minute he had the man by his collar.

Amy reached the fence, holding her side, which pained her something fierce. “Hold him.” She barely got the words out. Darn this corset.

William was dragging Mr. Albright back toward the fence, who was shouting and demanding to be let go.

“William, if you walk him two houses down toward the south, there is an alleyway. Bring him to my house.” Still out of breath, she walked slowly through the yard and climbed the steps.

“My goodness. Whatever is going on?” Aunt Margaret stood at the front door, frowning and looking Amy up and down. “I heard a great deal of shouting and then you yelling at someone.”

“Mr. Albright.”

“He is here?”

“Yes. I saw him in the yard when William and I were leaving his carriage. He ran off, but William managed to catch him. He is bringing him to the house.”

Aunt Margaret placed her hand on Lacey’s shoulder. The parlormaid stood wide-eyed, gaping at Amy as she climbed the stairs. She probably looked a mess following her race after Mr. Albright.

“Everything is fine, Lacey. You may return to your duties.”

“I heard a lot of shouting, milady. Is everyone well?”

“Yes. Just fine. Please go to the kitchen and ask Cook to send in tea to the drawing room.”

Giving Amy a curious look, Lacey made a slight bob and hurried down the corridor.

With their voices still raised, William and Mr. Albright entered the house, William dragging Mr. Albright by his coat collar rather than the man moving forward of his own accord.

“Take him to the drawing room, William,” Amy said.

She, Aunt Margaret, and the two men entered the room. William gave Mr. Albright a shove and pointed to the red-and-white-striped chair next to the hearth. “Sit there.”

Both men attempted to catch their breath as Amy and Aunt Margaret took seats across from Mr. Albright. He looked uneasy, but in truth did not look as terrified as he surely would have if he had been guilty of Mr. St. Vincent’s murder. No matter what, though, he had disappeared after her ex-fiancé’s death, had hidden an opium pipe in his room, and had run just now when they had spotted him.

Something was wrong for sure.

Hands behind his back, William paced in front of Mr. Albright; then he stopped and glared at him. “Did you kill Mr. St. Vincent?”