The Wedding Night Affair--An Historical Mystery by L.C. Sharp (books to read as a couple TXT) 📕

old Juliana would have been, but this new Juliana was only amused. She knew what she was, or at least, she was starting to.

Ash escorted her out of the room and they left the house with as much ceremony as they’d entered it, which was to say, as little as possible. Before ten minutes had elapsed, they were out in the street, walking back to Ash’s house.

“That was very useful,” Ash remarked. “Better than I expected.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. Your husband was supposed to be in business with the Raven, to expand the existing House of Correction into new premises, but he decided to cheat and claim the business for himself. He must have been a singularly foolish man to think he would be allowed to get away with that.”

“He planned to surround himself with powerful men,” she said, recalling the exalted names on the list. “And he planned to cheat them, too, lying about the purpose of the business.”

“Yes he did. Many people take the duke for a fool, but he is far from that. He has survived in politics for almost thirty years, where many have fallen much sooner.”

“You like him.”

“He can be pompous and he does enjoy talking, but yes, I like him. The duke was beholden to me in a minor way. I did him a small legal service, and didn’t charge for it. While most aristocrats would take that for granted, judging the honor was sufficient, Newcastle did not. He said he wouldn’t insult me by insisting he paid, but he would look favorably on me in the future. I consider our accounts are settled.”

“For me?”

He smiled at her, and she smiled back, perfectly in harmony with him. Comfortable, even. “For you. I’ve found this case most intriguing. Singularly fascinating. I was fast growing bored, you know. The cases at Bow Street were becoming distressingly mundane until you arrived.”

“Oh.” His smile said more than she expected. Or perhaps she was imagining things. “If he sends word, please tell me.”

“Of course. I promised.”

“Is that why you will tell me, or is there another reason?” She wanted to know that it was more than a promise that bound him.

“Yes, there is.” He negotiated a deep crack in the pavement, skirting her around it. This walk was so comfortable she was tempted to ask him to take her around the whole square. Rectangle, in fact. Lincoln’s Inn Fields was made out of more than one space, but it was a regular rectangle these days. “You’re a sensible woman, and I appreciate your opinion. Your contribution has been valuable, given me a different aspect of the case. If it were not for our respective situations, I would ask you to stay.”

She stared at him, her jaw dropping.

He laughed. “But since that would have to be either as an employee, or a relative, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Of course not,” she managed to murmur.

What on earth did he mean by that? That he wanted her to stay? After he’d made the joke about marrying her? That remark had floored her. But of course he hadn’t been serious.

He’d surprised her because, deep in her heart, she wished for nothing more. That might be her relief, and the feeling that Ash’s house was her home, but she couldn’t consider it. Of course she couldn’t.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A carriage stood outside the house, a smart one, with two matched grays harnessed to the shiny black and yellow vehicle. As they approached, a pair of footmen, also smartly dressed, came out of the house bearing a trunk between them.

Her trunk. Her parents’ livery.

Careless of appearances, Juliana pulled her hand out from under Ash’s arm, picked up her skirts and ran to the front door. The footmen had disappeared inside again.

One glance at Baynon was enough to tell her something was wrong. “I put them in the drawing room,” he said, without her having to prompt him.

Juliana continued upstairs, following the footmen who continued up the second staircase to the bedroom floor. She opened the door to the drawing room and found her parents sitting in state, or as much state as this comfortable room allowed, a tray of tea on a table nearby, and a maid standing uncomfortably behind her mother’s chair.

Juliana dropped a perfunctory curtsey. Her mother exchanged a glance with her father. “Your manners are becoming positively crude these days. The sooner you are out of this house, the sooner you can regain your dignity.”

Typical of her mother to try to put her down. Juliana didn’t care anymore. Her mother’s opinion meant nothing to her.

“I have no intention of leaving this house just yet,” she said. “And when I do it will be to an establishment of my own.”

“You will do nothing of the kind,” her mother continued. Her bosom swelled above the line of her stays as if she had fastened them too tightly. “The news reached us this morning.”

“About what?”

“The death of your maid,” her father said. “The murder of your maid.”

“Lady Uppingham is under my guardianship.” She hadn’t heard Ash coming in, but she was glad he had followed her. “She cannot leave.”

“My daughter will not stay in a house that cannot ensure her safety.” Her father spoke to Ash as if he was addressing a public meeting. But then, he always talked to her that way, too.

“She has little choice,” Ash replied firmly.

“Oh, I think she has.”

Juliana didn’t like the way her father smiled when he said that. He only did that when he knew he would win. She had seen that smile after she’d agreed to marry Godfrey—not that she’d had much choice—and when she’d agreed to have Wood serve her. What did he know that she didn’t?

“I am bound to stay here.”

The earl shrugged. “We can deal with that. In any case, you are no longer under suspicion of murder. Only of killing the man in self-defense.”

How had he discovered that? “But I still have to stand trial,” she pointed out gently.

She walked slowly to a chair close to the