“And here I spent last night and this morning searching for either one of them, and you stumble upon them in, of all places, the Pump Room.” William wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it back on his lap.
“They were quite surprised to see me, and obviously uncomfortable the entire time I was in their pr
esence.” Uncomfortable would have described Mr. Miles, but Mr. Harris had looked as though he wished her gone from the planet. The man clearly did not take rejection well.
“The day after tomorrow is our book club meeting. I will be unable to attend once again, since my presence is required in London. It will be interesting to learn if Mr. Miles tries to speak to you about you running into—well, actually your dog running into—them at the Pump Room.”
“That’s the thing. If they were there simply as friends, just passing the time, surely they would not have looked so very uncomfortable. Almost guilty.”
They pondered that thought while Lacey and another maid cleared the table and left them with a pot of tea, cheese, and fruit. Amy picked up an apple, placed it on her plate, and began to cut it into slices. “I believe I will stop by Lady Ambrose’s house this afternoon for her sewing circle. If Miss Hemphill is there, I might have the opportunity to speak with her.”
“If she doesn’t faint at the sight of you first,” William drawled.
* * *
Amy didn’t see William at all that week, as he had gone to London as he’d told her to attend to business. He sent around a note on Friday that he had returned and asked to escort her to the Assembly Rooms on Saturday night.
Amy looked forward to seeing him—not for any reason other than having someone with whom to discuss the case, she told herself. As much as she enjoyed talking to Eloise about it, her friend didn’t have the same dedication to solving the mystery. But then, it wasn’t her neck that would feel the rope around it if Amy was found guilty.
It was time to face it: she was at an impasse. Pacing back and forth in her room as she waited for William, she ticked off the irritants. So far she’d had no success with Miss Hemphill. Then Mr. Miles had also been absent from the book club meeting, so she had learned nothing more about his meeting with Mr. Harris. The two detectives who plagued her life had sent along a note requesting an interview. Only hours later, Sir Holstein’s missive had arrived with the same purpose.
The frustration had built to the point where she’d begun to think she should have gone to London with William, just to be away from Bath for a while. But that would have involved asking the detectives’ permission to leave, and since she was trying to avoid them, that would have defeated her purpose.
She hoped to put all of it behind her that evening, just enjoy the dance and try to resume a bit of her happy life before Mr. St. Vincent stumbled through the French doors with a knife stuck in his chest.
A slight knock on her bedchamber door drew her attention from her meandering thoughts. “Yes?”
Aunt Margaret entered, dressed in a lovely deep-purple satin gown. The black embroidery on the neckline ran down the front of the dress and around the hemline. Long gloves with gold bracelets adorning them reached her elbows, with a matching necklace and earbobs.
“Oh my, don’t you look beautiful!”
Aunt Margaret did a slight dip. “Thank you, my dear. I am attending the Assembly Rooms tonight.”
“Wonderful. It’s been a while since you have.”
Aunt Margaret leaned back and inspected Amy. “You look lovely as well, but I think your hair could use a bit of decoration.”
Amy wore a rose-colored gown with a neckline lower than usual. She patted her hair. “Yes, I was thinking about feathers or something like that.”
“I have the perfect thing.” Aunt Margaret held up a finger. “Wait just a minute.” She hurried from the room, and Amy took the time to find her favorite dancing slippers.
“Here we are.” Her aunt held up a lovely strand of pearls. “Go sit at the dressing table, and I will weave these into your hair.”
Lacey had fixed Amy’s hair up into a lovely topknot of sorts, with loose curls dangling from the sides of her head and at the nape. Aunt Margaret wound the beautiful pearls throughout the hairdo. She stepped back to admire her work. “There. That looks lovely.”
Amy moved her head left and right to view her aunt’s work. “I agree.” She walked across the room and picked up her reticule and gloves. “William is escorting me. Would you care to join us?”
Aunt Margaret flushed and shook her head. “No need, dear. I have an escort.”
Amy gaped at her. “You do?”
Her aunt huffed. “Well, don’t look so surprised. I do have a gentleman interested in me on occasion. At least enough to tolerate me for one evening.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Aunt Margaret lifted her chin and waved her hand. “You did not hurt my feelings.”
The two of them descended the stairs just as the door knocker sounded. Amy hoped it was Aunt Margaret’s escort so she could see who it was before William arrived to sweep her away.