A Changing Light by Edith Maxwell (feel good books to read txt) 📕

wasn’t. Kevin had said they were plans for a new design of carriage. I kept my mouth shut even as I wondered if they could be for a horseless carriage. I hoped Ned wasn’t involved in the theft or, worse, responsible for it.

Ned drummed his fingers on his thigh as his heel jiggled up and down, making his leg jitter. I glanced away when my dear friend Bertie Winslow, Amesbury’s postmistress, slid into the seat on the other side of me.

“Bertie, how lovely to see thee.” I smiled at her.

“You know I like to keep my finger on the pulse of the town.” Her hat, trimmed today with a purple ribbon, sat as always at a rakish angle on her curly blond hair. “Hello, there, Mr. Bailey,” she said to Ned.

He nodded at her. “Miss Winslow.”

She squeezed my hand and whispered, “Any news on the you know what?”

I assumed she referred to the murder. “Not yet.”

At the front, Cyrus Hamilton rapped a gavel on the table in front of the board. “The public meeting of the Amesbury Board of Trade will come to order.”

“Come for coffee in the morning?” I asked Bertie. “We can talk then.” My new abode was down the street from where she lived with her sweetheart.

“You’re on, Rosetta. Eight isn’t too early?”

“Not at all.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kevin take a place on the opposite side of the hall, standing with his back to the wall. These mysterious plans had to be at the center of the mystery. Didn’t they?

“The first matter of business tonight is the unfortunate turn of events of which I am sure you are all aware,” Cyrus began.

I’d had some dealings with him two years ago when his son, who was sick in the head, committed a crime. Cyrus himself was a kind man who had shown great generosity to my brother-in-law.

“Mr. Sherwood?” Cyrus gestured toward Jonathan.

“In case any of you has been too busy to read the news today, it is this.” Jonathan stood to speak. “Mr. Justice Harrington of Ottawa, Canada, and the Montgomery Carriage Company, was brutally murdered sometime during last night or the early hours of this morning.”

A gasp went up from several in the audience who apparently had been otherwise occupied. Most of the rest nodded knowingly or in sorrow.

“Our excellent police force is now led by the able Mr. Donovan.” Jonathan gestured toward Kevin, who tipped his hat. “The force is busy investigating.” Jonathan picked up a piece of paper and read from it. “The Board of Trade has determined that the week’s events shall go forward. At tonight’s soiree we shall pay tribute to Mr. Harrington and lift a glass in his memory. We have every confidence that the streets of our fair town are safe, and that our visitors are not at risk. That said, it always behooves one to conduct one’s affairs with all due caution.”

A murmur rose up around me. I was sure people were wondering if perhaps we weren’t entirely safe going about our business, traveling here and there, venturing forth after dark. In fact, a murderer was still at large.

Cyrus rapped the gavel on the table. “Order, please. The board will now move on to two other items of business. Thank you, Mr. Sherwood.”

“I’m leaving, Bertie,” I whispered. “See you in the morning.”

“I’ll be there,” she murmured.

“Good day, Ned. And good luck with thy new venture.”

“Thank you.” He frowned. “Best be careful, Mrs. Dodge. All due caution and so forth.”

“Have no fear. I shall.” I knew, coming from him, that “be careful” wasn’t a threat but instead a more caring admonition. I also knew I had many reasons to proceed with caution, a growing baby and a beloved husband being among the very top.

Chapter Eleven

I was ready for the day when Bertie knocked on the back door at eight the next morning. She looked ready, too, in a crisp white shirtwaist, a gray striped skirt, and a stylish turquoise jacket with a matching turquoise ribbon in her plush black hat. Petite Bertie loved fashion.

“Where’s that handsome husband of yours?” She sat at the kitchen table and drew out a wrapped packet.

“He left for Anna Jaques Hospital not ten minutes ago.” I poured her a cup of coffee and sat with mine across from her.

“He should hang out his shingle here in Amesbury. That way, he wouldn’t have to cross the mighty Merrimack River every day.”

“I’ve gently suggested the same. David is considering it. He could affiliate himself with the Methodist Hospital on Market Street instead of the one in Newburyport.”

“I would advise the move.” Bertie unwrapped the packet. “Brought you some of Sophie’s Portuguese sticky buns. They’re quite delicious, and you’re eating for two now.”

“I am, and these look lovely.” I brought plates and napkins to the table. “I thank thee.”

“Sophie finds it relaxing to bake, and it provides a welcome break from her lawyering.” She looked me up and down. “Rose, I daresay you’re fuller of figure than you were yesterday. That baby is growing well in you.”

I’d recently told my good friend the happy news, as well as my nieces and nephews. I now laughed and patted my midsection. “It is growing well, and I feel well, too. Only fuller, as thee says. My new dresses won’t be finished a day too soon.” Today I’d donned my roomiest garment, an older work dress, as I had no client visits this morning. Even it was snug. Still, I took a bite of a bun, and then another. It was never wise for a pregnant woman to skimp on food if it was available.

“Now, let’s talk about the murder before I have to get myself off to the post office.” Bertie’s eyes sparkled. “What do you know?”

“Alas, almost nothing. Kevin told me something about plans for a new design going missing from the older Bailey’s possession, but he offered no details about the nature of the plans except that they were for a carriage.”

“Think the dead