Aunt Margaret leaned in close. “Miss Hemphill is pregnant.”
CHAPTER 18
“Pregnant?”
Aunt Margaret nodded. “Yes. And feeling extremely guilty.”
Amy sat and pondered that surprise. “If Miss Hemphill is pregnant, that might be why she went to London. She didn’t want to see a local doctor to confirm her fears.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Amy let out a deep breath. “I must tell William.”
“You know I disapprove of your involvement in this matter. If you take this information to the police, it might turn them in the correct direction.”
They both rose and made their way back to the ballroom. Lord Pembroke spotted Aunt Margaret the minute they entered the room and made his way to her, dodging a few men who tried to garner his attention.
That was something else Amy wanted to talk to her aunt about. Lord Pembroke seemed much too attached to Aunt Margaret for him to be someone new in her life. Was Aunt Margaret hiding secrets, too?
Amy searched the room for William, but it was so crowded she didn’t see him. She made her way through the throng, excusing herself, accepting greetings from those she hadn’t spoken to yet that evening, and continued to search.
The musicians began a new number—a waltz—and enough people moved to the dance floor that she was able to see more clearly.
“May I request th
e honor of this dance, Lady Amy?” She spun around at the sound of Mr. Harris’s voice. For goodness’ sake, why was the man continuing to antagonize her? She had been so focused on Miss Hemphill, she’d forgotten about the conversation she had witnessed with Mr. Harris and Mr. Miles.
A good detective followed all clues. “Yes, Mr. Harris, I accept.”
His eyes lit up as he took her hand. Surely the man didn’t still think he had a chance of her accepting his marriage proposal. She’d made it quite clear that she had no intention of marrying at all, and certainly not a man she’d just met who had the polish and savior faire of a turtle. Besides, when she had spotted him at the Pump Room, he hadn’t exactly fallen all over himself welcoming her.
He escorted her to the dance floor and took her in his arms. Thankfully, he kept a decent amount of space between them so she wasn’t forced to step on his toes to get him to release her.
“I’m sorry we did not get a chance to speak the other day at the Pump Room.” He studied her, not with the polite interest his benign statement implied, but as if he was waiting for the need to defend himself. The man certainly ran hot and cold as far as his interactions with her.
Interesting.
Amy laughed, attempting to relax him so she could wangle information. Coyness in a woman never hurt. “I’m sure you saw the ruckus my dog caused.” She offered him a bright smile. “I had the feeling the servers hoped I would leave of my own accord and they would not find themselves in the awkward position of having to ask a lady to leave the premises.”
He laughed along with her, although the smile never reached his eyes. He still appeared guarded. They had made their way almost across the room already, Mr. Harris being quite adept at waltzing. She’d noticed more than one woman casting covert glances in his direction. If she hadn’t had such a distrust and dislike of the man, she would have understood their interest.
Mr. Harris was a bit taller than medium height, but the way he carried himself spoke of command and confidence. His clothes fit his form quite well, and she doubted his tailor needed to use padding to fill out his jacket. Objectively—and a good detective must be objective—she could understand his surprise at the rejected marriage proposal.
Of course, given the two conversations they’d had, he could use some lessons in charming a young lady. But if she was going to coerce information out of him, she must be the charming one.
“And did your dog recover from its race around the room?” Mr. Harris executed a smooth turn.
“Yes, indeed. She took a lovely nap once we arrived home.” She waited for a moment, then said, “I did not know that you and Mr. Miles were friends.”
She knew she was not imagining things when she felt his body stiffen. “Yes. Likable chap. We enjoyed a conversation while indulging in a glass of the famous Bath water.”
Well, then. It appeared he thought she was either blind or stupid—that she hadn’t seen how very cozy they’d been in their conversation before Persephone charged into them. She tilted her head. “Indeed? So you had only just met?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps we had met there another time. I’m not sure.”
Both remained caught up in their thoughts for a minute. “Did you know Mr. Miles is a member of a book club I belong to?”
Mr. Harris registered genuine surprise. So apparently Mr. Miles hadn’t discussed his personal life with him, which led her to further believe their conversation had been related to business.