“Yes.”
Another sneeze and hacking cough. Amy backed up the chair she sat on.
“Sorry.”
Amy took a deep breath. “We broke into my gardener’s flat the other night. I was going to tell you all about it after the book club meeting, but you left early.”
“Why?” More coughing. One very loud sneeze.
Amy held up her hand. “Do. Not. Apologize.” She took a deep breath. “I think it best if I tell you more about this when you are feeling better.”
Eloise collapsed back onto her propped-up pillows. “As much as I hate not hearing the entire story, I believe you are correct. In fact, when you leave, can you ask Gertrude—”
“The one at the door?”
“Yes. Have her bring me a tisane from Cook. I need to sleep.”
Amy hopped up and backed away from the bed as Eloise began another rousing session of sneezing and coughing. “I’ll just … let myself out.”
Eloise waved her off, and Amy made a quick exit. She found the maid and asked for the tisane. Three times on the way home she felt her forehead to see if she was fevered.
* * *
That afternoon Amy picked up the small satchel of sewing supplies she’d put together to attend Lady Ambrose’s sewing circle. Hopefully, Miss Hemphill would be there and Amy could get more information on the proposal St. Vincent was supposed to have made to her. Of course, it was quite probable the woman would stick Amy with a very long and sharp needle for taking her man, but with the detectives wandering in circles, she needed to put an end to this matter once and for all.
“Sewing circle, Amy?” Aunt Margaret grinned as Amy placed the satchel on the settee in the drawing room, where her aunt was enjoying an afternoon tea and a book.
“Is that one of my books?”
Aunt Margaret shook her head. “No, dear. I’ve told you before, I cannot read about all that blood and such.” She shuddered. “I don’t know how you can write it. It would keep me awake nights.”
Amy shrugged into her pelisse and drew on her gloves. “I intend to get more information from Miss Hemphill on this marriage proposal she was expecting from Mr. St. Vincent.” Amy had kept her aunt up-to-date with the investigation she and William were conducting after having admitted to her on Sunday that they had indeed broken into Mr. Albright’s rooms.
While Aunt was not pleased with the danger involved in their trying to solve the murder the
mselves, she agreed it appeared highly unlikely the police would do anything more than bumble around until they simply arrested Amy for the crime.
“Are you taking Persephone with you?”
“No. She appears a bit ill today. Her nose sounds congested, and she’s very lazy.” Amy paused and studied the dog, who was snoring away in the corner. “Do you think it possible for me to have contracted Eloise’s cold and passed it along to Persephone?”
“Are you ill?”
Amy shook her head. “No.”
“Then I doubt you could pass along an illness you do not yourself possess.” Her aunt had the strangest way of saying things. “If you don’t take her with you, aren’t you afraid she won’t talk to you?” Aunt Margaret nodded toward Persephone.
“Yes. I know how silly it sounds, but my darling pet does have a way of letting me know she is displeased with me. Besides, if I am interested in conversation, I can always ask Othello to spout some poetry for me.”
“Have a good time sewing. I would go with you, but I don’t know what I despise more, Lady Ambrose or sewing.” She settled back into her chair and picked up her book. “Good luck.”
* * *
Five women were sitting in a group, chatting away and moving their needles in and out of colorful pieces of cloth, when Amy was announced by Mrs. Ambrose’s butler. Raised eyebrows and pursed lips greeted her as she entered the room and took a seat near the hostess.
Miss Hemphill was not in the room.
“Welcome to our little group, Lady Amy.” Lady Ambrose fluttered. She actually fluttered as she welcomed Amy. No doubt she had secured a coup de foudre by having the very notorious Lady Amy attend her sewing circle so soon after her erstwhile fiancé had met his end in her library.