“And you had nothing to do with it?”
“I believe I have already stated, more than once, that your assumption is incorrect.” No longer was she frightened by these men. They obviously had nothing to connect her to the murder except for the fact that St. Vincent had died at her house. If they had, she would be in jail right now.
The men looked at each other, Marsh closed his notebook, and they both stood. “That is all we need for now, Lady Amy.”
“Detective. Before you leave. Can you tell me if you are close to finding who killed Mr. St. Vincent? I really wish to put this all behind me and resume my normal life.”
Detective Marsh just stared at her for a few moments. “No. We are not.”
Once they left the room, Amy wandered around, restless, unable to concentrate. Miss Hemphill had been added to the detectives’ list of interested parties. That was quite intriguing. The police were doing more than she’d thought.
The next thing she and William needed to do was check further into Miss Hemphill. Find out why she had gone to London. It could have been for a very innocuous reason, but Amy still felt there was more to Miss Hemphill than they’d discovered so far.
She checked her timepiece. It was time to prepare for the evening. William was escorting her to the theater.
They were to enjoy William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, one of her favorite plays. As she made her way upstairs, she thought again about William. The investigation was throwing them together quite a bit, but they were also attending other events—such as the one that night—that had nothing to do with St. Vincent’s murder.
She smiled as she dressed. William’s company was quite pleasant, actually. He was polite, charming, and at times he looked at her in such a way that she felt tingles inside. Which sounded quite silly, so she pushed that thought away.
Taking a final look in the mirror at the light- and dark-blue-striped gown that fit her curves quite well, along with the dark-blue gloves that covered her arms to her elbows, she smiled at her reflection. She had Lacey fasten a sapphire necklace that had belonged to her mother, and then added the earbobs that matched. Pleased with what she saw in the mirror, she picked up the beaded reticule and matching shawl on the chair by the door to her room and descended the stairs to await William.
She poured herself a small sherry while she waited and flipped through a book on poetry that she’d been meaning to read but had put off with her focus on murder.
“My lady, Lord Wethington has arrived.” Mr. Stevens, who took over door duty in the evenings, stepped aside to allow William to enter.
“My lady, you look splendid.” William’s appreciative look traveled from the tip of her head—and the dark-blue feathers anchored there—to her feet, shod in delicate black slippers.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“Yes, I would.” He walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy. “We have a bit of time before we must leave.”
“The detectives visited today.” Amy took a sip of her sherry.
“With good news, I hope? Like perhaps they have found the true killer?”
Amy shook her head. “No. But they did mention Miss Hemphill. They asked me if I knew she was expecting to marry St. Vincent.”
“Did they ask about Sir Holstein?”
“Yes. They said the police did not like private individuals doing their work.”
William laughed. “Someone has to do it. They don’t seem to be moving forward.”
Mr. Stevens entered the drawing room once more, his expression reminding her of someone who had just smelled something nasty. “My lady, Mr. Albright requests a word, if you please.”
Amy and William glanced at each other. “Mr. Albright? How very strange. Yes, send him in, please.”
They watched the man enter the room, crushing his hat in his hand. “Excuse me for interrupting you, milady, but I thought it best if I passed along some information to you.”
Amy waved at the red-and-white-striped chair. “Please have a seat, Mr. Albright.”
“No, milady, my clothes are dusty from the garden.”
She smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. “What is it you want to tell me, Mr. Albright?”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Last night you had a few people here for some sort of gathering.”
“Yes. My book club. We usually meet at a bookstore, but they were having an event that evening, so we met here.”