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

on her hat. Whereas Aunt Margaret was always impeccably dressed and graceful as a swan, Amy was not at all graceful or stylish, and considered herself well dressed if her shoes matched.

Giving her niece a quick once-over, Aunt Margaret rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. “Time to leave.”

Amy looked down at herself. Did she truly look that bad?

Their first stop was the home of Lady Ambrose, a woman Amy had difficulty tolerating. Lady Ambrose loved gossip and scandal more than most. She had relished telling Amy all sorts of newsy gossip last year when Amy was forced to abide the woman’s company to gain information on Mr. St. Vincent’s murder.

Lady Ambrose also hosted a sewing circle each week in which the ladies made baby clothes for the unfortunate. Amy liked to think that this at least revealed some goodness in the woman.

When they arrived, one of the first women they spotted was Mrs. Whitney—thank you, lord—enjoying tea, along with Miss Everhart and Mrs. Welling.

With a little help from Aunt Margaret, Amy managed to finagle her way into the seat right next to Mrs. Whitney’s.

The ladies were listening to Mrs. Welling tell the story of her daughter and how ungrateful the young lady was because she refused to allow Mrs. Welling to move into her house with her husband and five children.

Amy couldn’t help but think that Mrs. Welling must be a difficult person to live with, since her daughter had passed on the opportunity to have her mother’s help with all those children.

Once Aunt Margaret began what Amy knew was going to be a very lengthy story about her recent visit with the Woods family, Amy used the time to strike up a side conversation with Mrs. Whitney.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Whitney. Did you enjoy the Assembly dance last week?”

The woman smiled brightly, the fine lines at the edges of her eyes more visible. “Yes. I did. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Mrs. Whitney bent closer to Amy and spoke softly. “I heard that you and Lord Wethington are trying to uncover who killed Mr. Harding.”

Well then. It seemed gossip and news did spread fast in the community.

“We are asking a few questions, but only because Lord Wethington employed Mr. Harding and he is now concerned about some of his holdings.”

Mrs. Whitney snorted. “I certainly didn’t trust him. I wasn’t happy when my husband’s will was read and I learned that Mr. Harding was the trustee of my trust. I just hope that when the court appoints a new trustee, he can learn how much Mr. Harding stole from me.”

Mrs. Whitney paused as she took a sip of tea. “I will tell you what my main concern is.” She leaned even closer and lowered her voice again. “My stepson Patrick.”

“Oh, why is that?”

She twisted the handkerchief she held in her hands. “He was also concerned that Mr. Harding was stealing from me and made some vague threats. Patrick disappeared right around the same time Mr. Harding was killed. I haven’t seen him since.”

CHAPTER 15

Amy sat patiently in the drawing room, waiting for William to arrive. She’d told William at church two days before that they needed to discuss Mr. Harding’s murder and their next steps. After Mrs. Whitney’s revelation at Lady Ambrose’s tea yesterday about Patrick going missing, she felt they had a genuine lead to follow. It was too much of a coincidence that the stepson had disappeared the same night Harding was killed. Especially if he had learned that Harding was stealing from his stepmother’s trust.

It had stuck her as quite odd, however, that a stepson would be so concerned about his stepmother’s finances. Unless he was expected to support her once the money was gone.

Papa entered the drawing room, breaking into her musings. “Good afternoon, daughter. It looks like you’re planning on stepping out today. With Lord Wethington?”

Amy gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

Papa and Michael had taken up residence while they explored the possibility of purchasing the new business they were considering. Ever since the dinner at Lady Wethington’s, whenever Papa hadn’t been scowling at Amy about the book fair, he had been watching her with a gleam in his eyes.

For that reason, she was reluctant to have William visit, but they needed to get together to continue their investigation.

She glanced out the window, happy to see William climbing the steps to the front door. “He is here.”

“Excellent!”

She gathered her things and moved around Papa. “I’m leaving.”

“No. Wait a minute,” Papa followed her to the front door. “Good afternoon, Wethington. I see you and my daughter are off for a jaunt this afternoon.”

William attempted to remain friendly, but Amy saw the unease in his stance. “Yes, my lord. We are off to the Pump Room, then to a shop for tea.”

Papa slapped William on the back. “Good, good. Have a wonderful time. No need to hurry back. I know my daughter is in good hands.”

Amy pushed William toward the door. “Good-bye, Papa.”

Once they settled in the carriage, she let out a deep breath. “I apologize for my papa, William. He’s been acting quite strange since dinner at your house the other night.”

William chuckled. “You want to see strange, stop by and visit with my mother.” His eyes grew wide. “No. Forget I said that. Do not stop in to see my mother. She will send for the modiste to take measurements for your wedding gown.”

Shocked at his words, they stared at each other. William swallowed. Amy cleared her throat. They both looked out opposite windows.

Silence reigned as the carriage made its way through town to the Pump Room next to the Roman Baths. Even though the weather was cold—normal for February—the unexpected sunshine had encouraged strollers to leave their homes. The mall, surrounded by shops, the Abbey, and the Roman Baths, was crowded with visitors.

Amy and William wandered the Pump Room, paused for the obligatory drink from the famous waters, and stopped to chat with friends and acquaintances.

“We need privacy to