The Sign of Death by Callie Hutton (i like reading .TXT) 📕

fiction,” Lady Margaret said. “Those women were mad. Very, very mad. Who knows what they would be capable of in a fit of anger?”

They remained silent for a while, each absorbed in their own deliberations. The cool mist had turned to a slight drizzle, slowing traffic and lengthening the trip, which allowed them time to contemplate what they had learned so far. The clatter of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestones gave them a soothing, rhythmic ride.

William presented another thought. “Aside from Miss Gertrude, we don’t know if the individuals in the hidden files were being blackmailed or if they were being cheated and stolen from.”

“Do you think that would make a difference?” Amy grabbed the strap near her head as the carriage bounced over a hole in the road.

“Probably not. I believe we had decided that the files kept separate were singled out for nefarious purposes. It would be interesting to speak with the men on our list—Lemmon once again, and then Montrose to see if they have the same vehemence toward the man as the two ladies with whom we spoke.”

They reached the Winchester townhouse. Once the driver opened the door, William jumped out and held out his hand to help Lady Margaret and Amy out of the carriage. He walked them up the steps, holding his umbrella over them.

“Will Lady Wethington be joining you for church tomorrow?” Amy asked.

“I am certain she will.”

“We will see you then,” Lady Margaret said, as she entered the house.

“Good night, William.” Amy turned to follow her aunt, and William took her hand.

“Good night.” He bent and slowly lowered his head and kissed her, enjoying her surprise that turned quickly to acceptance. Aware that they stood on her front steps, he pulled back, offered a slight smile, and hurried to this carriage.

He smiled all the way to his house.

The Church of St. Swithin on the Paragon was a lovely and stately church. The building dated back to the late eighteenth century, but a worship house had stood on its grounds as far back as the tenth century.

Beloved author Miss Jane Austen’s father was buried at the site. Amy’s parents had been wed in St. Swithin’s and she and her brother baptized there. At one time she had thought to be married at St. Swithin’s, but as the years passed and she had grown more and more against the idea of matrimony, that thought had slowly died.

Lately, however, the idea of the married state had begun to interest her once again. Provided, of course, it was to the correct man. She wondered if the idea had anything to do with her growing relationship with William and the kiss he had bestowed on her the night before.

You are not a stupid woman, Amy.

As she and Aunt Margaret made their weekly trek to the fine old church, Amy looked forward to the inspiration and peace she always found there on Sunday mornings.

Once free of their carriage, they entered the building, greeting other congregants as they walked along the path. After days of cold, miserable rain, the sun had finally made an appearance, which lifted Amy’s spirits considerably. Although they had months to go before spring even began to raise its head, the few good-weather days in the winter reminded her that gloomy, cold weather would not last forever.

Just as they reached the door, William and Lady Wethington walked up to them. “Good morning, Lady Amy. How pleased I am to see you again.” Lady Wethington gave Amy a warm hug and another one of those looks that made her a tad nervous. Amy might have been rethinking her position on marriage, but she certainly did not want her ladyship pushing her. Or William.

Amy smiled back. “So nice to see you as well, Lady Wethington. I hope you are feeling well this morning.”

“I am. A good night’s rest eased my headache tremendously.”

“I am so glad to hear that. We missed you last evening at the Assembly.” She turned toward Aunt Margaret. “May I present to you my aunt, Lady Margaret Lovell.”

The two women nodded at each other. “Do you live together?” Lady Wethington asked.

“Yes,” Amy said, “Aunt Margaret practically raised me, since my mother passed away when I was ten years old.”

“Oh, how very sad. But I’m sure you received a good deal of love and attention from your aunt.”

Amy beamed at her aunt. “Indeed. Aunt Margaret and I are great friends too.”

Lady Wethington linked her arm in Amy’s as they strolled down the aisle of the church. Normally they sat in the Winchester pew, but this week William led them to his family’s pew.

Lady Wethington entered first, with Aunt Margaret right behind her, followed by Amy and William. It did not slip Amy’s notice that William’s mother purposefully maneuvered them so that Amy and William sat together. It would probably interest her ladyship to know that they usually sat together even without her machinations.

“Ladies, I would love for you both to join us after church for lunch,” said Lady Wethington. “William told me you generally entertain him, but I thought it would be nice to return the favor and have you to our home.”

“I would like that.” Amy touched Aunt Margaret’s hand. “Are you free to join us at William’s house for lunch?” Amy prayed her aunt did not have other plans, which she sometimes did. Being alone with Lady Wethington and that gleam in her eye made her anxious. The woman seemed to turn most conversation to weddings, something Amy sensed she was growing closer to but didn’t want to hear about quite yet.

“Yes, I would be honored to join you. Thank you so much.” Lady Margaret got the words out just as Mr. Palmer stepped into the sanctuary and addressed the congregation. Amy settled back and looked forward to her one hour of peace for the week.

As usual, Miss Gertrude and Miss Penelope were in their seats two rows down and across the aisle from Amy’s family bench. Amy glanced over at