Lady Amy Lovell tapped her pen against her desk as she considered the next red herring in the murder mystery she was currently working on. For some reason, she had been having a hard time concentrating the last few days.
It could very well be the dreary weather. She glanced out the window and rested her chin on her hand. Nothing of interest ever happened this time of the year, now that the social events of the holidays were over. It was too early for spring and her annual retreat with Aunt Margaret to Brighton Beach.
Amy stood and stretched, dropping her dog to the floor. She scooped the Pomeranian up. “I’m so very sorry, Persephone. I forgot you were sitting on my lap.”
The dog regarded her with disdain. It amazed her how she could ascertain her dog’s moods. Of course, no one believed that her dog had moods and that she could determine them. But when Amy did something of which Persephone didn’t approve, the dog would raise her nonexistent tail in the air and stroll away as if she were the queen.
What Amy needed was to get out of the house. Go for a walk. Even in the damp, cool weather, a stroll could help clear her brain. Her mind made up, she shuffled her papers and stacked them neatly on the corner of her desk.
“Persephone, let’s go for a walk.” She reached out and pulled the dog to her chest. “We will take a nice walk and get some fresh air. You are beginning to put on weight and need some exercise.” She rubbed her nose in the dog’s soft white fur and glanced out the window again. “Well, maybe not fresh, but better than indoor air, at least.”
Perhaps her close friend, Eloise, would be up for a stroll. They could take a walk to the Pump Room and hope the entire time that the threatening clouds did not dump on them.
She hurried down the stairs, the idea sounding better every minute. She handed Persephone off to her butler, Stevens, while she buttoned up her coat. Just then, the door knocker sounded and Stevens opened the door.
William stood there, bringing a smile to her face. After that ghastly business with her ex-fiancé’s murder, she and William had celebrated by getting a wee bit tipsy. Unexpectedly, he had kissed her, and now their relationship had shifted. Nothing about courting had been formally announced, but there was definitely something in the air whenever they were together.
“What brings you here, my lord?” Amy asked, aware of Stevens standing next to her. She felt it important to maintain formality whenever she and William were not alone.
“I thought perhaps you would like some company, but it appears you are on your way out.” Was that disappointment she heard in his voice?
“Actually, I was just about to take a walk, possibly to the Pump Room. I felt the need to get out of the house. My brain is having a hard time focusing, for some reason.”
“Then I suggest we stroll together.” He stopped and considered her for a few seconds. “Unless you were meeting someone else?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I thought to stop at Eloise’s house to see if she was up for a walk, but now I won’t have to drag her out of the house.” Amy laughed. “She is not overly fond of walking.”
He glanced at the dog snuggled in her arms. “Are you taking Persephone with you?” He tried his best to look unconcerned, but she knew he was not enamored with her beloved dog. He didn’t exactly dislike her, but the animal did seem to enjoy snubbing him. Almost from their first encounter, they had seemed to regard each other with uneasiness.
“Yes. I just need to get her leash.” Amy retrieved the leash from a hook hanging by the door and snapped it onto Persephone’s collar. “There. Now we’re ready.”
They made their way down the steps, and Amy took William’s arm as they began their stroll.
“How is your new book coming along?”
She scrunched her nose. “It was just fine, but I need one more red herring, and I cannot come up with someone.”
He patted her hand. “I’ve no doubt that you will do it. I am still amazed that you write such fearsome stories.”
Amy waved her hand. “It’s not so terrifying when you’re writing it. I mean, I know who is going to get killed and how.” She studied Persephone as the little dog moved from one side of the pathway to the other, sniffing and pulling on her leash.
“I will tell you, it is much more fun than when I was the suspect in a murder myself.” She shuddered. “I dread to think what would have happened had we not stepped in and figured out who killed Mr. St. Vincent.”
“I like to think that our police department would have eventually come to the same conclusion.”
Amy looked at him sideways. “You have much more faith in Detectives Carson and Marsh than I do.”
They were silent for a few minutes. Then William said, “I received some rather interesting news today.”
“What is that?” Amy tugged Persephone’s leash. The dog was getting much too close to another dog’s leavings for her comfort.
“Lady Wethington is moving from London to Bath.”
Amy frowned. “Who?” She tugged again, this time dragging her dog away from a dead bird. Why must Persephone find all the unpleasant things to entertain herself with?
He sighed. “My mother.”
Amy almost broke into laughter at the look on his face. William reminded her of a young boy who had just discovered that his tutor was about to pay a visit to his parents.
“Is that a problem?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I love my mother. She is everything most
