William had stayed away from the book club meeting the night before, and Amy had to admit the gathering had seemed rather dull without him. A few members had asked after him, and she’d only said he was engaged in business matters.
Apparently no one had heard about the police considering William their top suspect, for which she was grateful. It had been difficult for her the year before when the police had assumed she’d killed her ex-fiancé and everyone had inundated her with questions.
Tomorrow was the Assembly again, and maybe they would be lucky this time. Amy had asked around at morning calls—which she viewed as a sacrifice to William’s well-being—and finally someone had heard of Mrs. Burrows. She apparently owned a small millinery in the center of Bath.
Maybe before she and William returned home from their trip to town, they could find the millinery shop, the Hat Box, and speak with Mrs. Burrows.
The door to her bedchamber opened. “His lordship has arrived.” Lacey walked into the room. “You’ve done your hair yourself. Why did you not summon me?”
Amy shrugged. “You were busy with something else. Why? Does it look bad?”
Lacey studied her mistress. “It could be worse. Let me adjust your hat so that it might hide part of it.”
“I guess that means yes, it does look bad,” Amy mumbled, as Lacey directed her to a chair and began to fool with her hair and hat.
“Don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Lord Wethington waiting.”
“Oh my.” Lacey grinned and continued to fuss with her hair.
Amy stood. “I don’t know what you mean by oh my, but I think you’ve done enough with my hair.”
She grabbed her reticule and left the room. William waited for her at the front door, chatting with Stevens. He turned and gave her a wide smile that set off some strange sensations in her stomach.
“Good afternoon, my lady. You look wonderful.” He gave a slight bow.
Amy turned to face Lacey, who was just descending the stairs, and merely raised her eyebrows. Apparently William didn’t think she’d made such a mess of her hair.
Once they were settled in the carriage, Amy withdrew the list she’d compiled that morning. “I have names here that we can investigate.”
William raised his hand. “I appreciate your work on this, but for this afternoon, I prefer not to speak of anything having to do with Harding’s death, my pending arrest, the suspects, and my friends Detective Marsh and Detective Carson. Let us just enjoy the day out.”
Although she was anxious to share her information, she understood his need for a respite. He must have spent a great deal of time worrying and searching for information since the last time she’d seen him.
“Yes. You are correct. The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day for February, and we should discuss nothing but happy, joyful things.”
William grinned. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say only rainbows and unicorns can be discussed, but let’s put off any conversation about the murder until we’ve at least had our tea.”
Silence ensued for the rest of the ride, since nothing else seemed worthy of consideration.
Once the carriage arrived close to the Roman Baths, William helped Amy out, and instead of taking her arm, he entwined their fingers, and they strolled along holding hands.
It felt much different than having their arms joined. Again that strange sensation reared itself in her stomach. Strange, yet pleasant.
First they ventured into the Pump Room and had a glass of the beneficial spa waters. Then they made their way to the dining area, which was about half-full. Amy didn’t recognize too many people, so chances were visitors and tourists made up the majority of diners.
“Tea for the lady and me,” William said to the server who approached them.
“Very good, my lord. I shall be right back.”
“How did he know you were a lord?”
William raised his brows. “Don’t I look like a lord?”
Amy sat back and studied him. Tall, aristocratic nose, firm chin, well-built body, clothes of the finest cut and fabric, an adeptly tied cravat, and an arrogance about him that only a member of the nobility could pull off. She nodded. “Yes.”
They both laughed.
Amy looked around the room while they waited for their tea. “Isn’t that Mr. Davidson over there?” She gestured with her head in the direction of two men sitting at a table near the window.
William studied the pair. “I believe it is. And if I am correct, it looks like that gentleman friend of his is with him again. Strange. He introduced Mr. Rawlings to the group for the first time a few weeks ago, but now it seems every time I see Davidson, they are together.”
“Most likely he is a new friend.” Amy looked back at William. “I can’t imagine anyone being his friend, actually. He is certainly not an amiable man, and I do dislike remarks he’s made during book club discussions about women.”
William laughed. “Yes. I know a few times the two of you almost came to fisticuffs.”
Conversation ceased as the server placed a teapot, cups, saucers, silverware, and a plate of small sandwiches and sweets on the table. “Shall I pour?” the server asked.
“No, but thank you. I will pour.”
The server nodded at Amy and headed back to another part of the dining room to stop and chat with two diners.
“Don’t pass up the sweets again,” William said as she placed a half sandwich on her plate.
Amy looked down at the tarts, biscuits, and scones. “I really do need to watch what I eat.”
“Nonsense. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
The fluttering sensation again.
He really did say such nice things to her. She shrugged and took a small piece of
