He was having none of it.
“Dear sister, I heard Lord Wethington a while ago when I returned. I sincerely hope you were not conspiring with the man again. Father was most adamant that you are to stay as far away from any murder investigation as you can. I am under direct orders to escort you posthaste to London if I even suspect any such thing.”
She deployed her most surprised and innocent expression. “I have not left the house all morning. Why would you think I am continuing my investigation?”
Michael crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “Your pretend subservience does not work with me, Amy. You might fool Father,
but not me. Why don’t you want to go for a ride? It’s a lovely day and you don’t seem to be hovering over your desk, scribbling murder mysteries.”
Persephone made her regal entrance, nonexistent tail in the air. Happy for the distraction, Amy scooped the dog into her arms. “I promised Persephone I would give her a bath this afternoon.”
“We have servants.”
“Not for Persephone’s bath. She only allows me to do it.”
Michael studied her a while, then pushed away from the wall. “I will return in about two hours, and I expect you to be here.”
“Am I a prisoner in my own home, then?”
“Not a prisoner, but let’s just say you cannot go flitting about town without me knowing where you are and with whom.”
She wasn’t as annoyed at his edict as she would normally have been, since she was almost certain they were about to solve the mystery of St. Vincent’s murder. Once that was finished, Michael would scurry back to London and she would return to her normal, safe, and happy life.
Then Amy’s brain moved from murder to romance. “Are you escorting a young lady?”
Her brother stopped and narrowed his eyes. “I might be. Why?”
She shrugged. “No reason. I didn’t realize you were familiar with any of the young ladies in Bath, since you don’t leave London very much.”
“Miss Abernathy spends almost as much time in London as she does in Bath. As it turns out, she is currently visiting her godmother.” He took his hat from Lacey and placed it on his head.
“Miss Abernathy? How very interesting.”
Michael walked over to her and tapped her on the nose. “Don’t get any ideas, little sister, and do not begin to plan the wedding breakfast. ’Tis only a ride.” He gave her a slight bow and said, “Do try your very best to stay out of trouble.” With that warning, he left the house.
Only a ride, indeed. She’d never known Michael to spend time in the company of any young lady who possessed a mother on the hunt for a husband for her daughter. But then again, as she’d noted, he was in London most of the time, and she didn’t really know which respectable ladies he rode with. The society pages mentioned only his escapades.
She sat in the her favorite chair near the hearth and ran her fingers through Persephone’s fur.
“My, don’t we look pensive.” Aunt Margaret stopped at the drawing room door, obviously—given her state of dress—also going out for the afternoon.
“Where are you off to?”
“The local chapter of the National Society for Women’s Suffrage.” She looked in the mirror on the wall across from the drawing room door and adjusted her hat. “We are making progress.” She turned to Amy and grinned.
“I wish I could go with you, but I am awaiting an important message.”
“Not the murder thing again, I hope. If you don’t stop, you will find yourself permanently in London. I know my brother. He is not one to be thwarted.”
Amy snorted. “You have been thwarting Papa for years.”
“Yes. That is true.” She smiled. “Well, good luck, then. I am off.”
It grew near lunchtime, but she had no appetite. She placed Persephone carefully on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace and wandered the room. After a few minutes of the eerie silence with everyone gone, she traipsed up the stairs to her room and drew out a book to distract herself.
After reading the same paragraph three times, she wandered to the window, looking out at early summer in full bloom and admitting to herself that she really should have gone with Michael. Getting her mind off everything would have been quite pleasant, and she could have learned about the knife upon her return.
Plus, seeing her brother with Miss Abernathy would have been worth listening to the girl simper and giggle the entire time. Surely her brother was not truly interested in the girl. Amy knew Miss Abernathy from her occasional visits to London—a tittering, eyelash-batting female. She would hate to have her as a sister-in-law.