A Second Chance for Murder by Ann Lacey Read Free Book Online

bring the tearful Thora into the vicarage for tea and a chat.
    “I’m fine thank you,” she replied, forcing a smile although thinking of Ivey in the cold, dark ground caused a sharp stabbing pain in her heart. It was hard for Thora to bear the woman’s pitying eyes. Thankfully the woman’s attention was captured by one of the younger Langless girls who wanted to know if God ever takes naps.
    Leaving the vicar’s wife to explain the sleeping habits of the Almighty, Thora turned to the guest on her right, the Marquis Calder Brightington, who was gazing at her as if she were one of the entrees. Feeling a bit unnerved but remembering that he was one of her suspects, Thora gave him a sweet smile as most women would, for Marquis Brightington was an attractive man. He had sandy hair and long tawny lashes that shaded pale green eyes which at times appeared disarmingly predatory. Like the serpent in the garden who tempted Eve, was it the Marquis Brightington who had lured Ivey to her much-too-early demise?
    Ever the fashionable dresser, Marquis Brightington’s finely tailored ebony jacket was cut to give prominence to his broad shoulders and expertly tapered to stress his narrower waist.
    Resolving not to be ruffled by his good looks or his intimidating gaze, Thora looked directly into those pale green eyes and asked, “Will you be joining the pheasant hunt tomorrow, my lord?”
    “Indeed I shall,” he excitedly retorted, her question breaking through his fixed concentration. “I do love the sport. In fact, your brother, Viscount Simon-North, Lord Flemington, and I have a standing wager to see who will bag the most birds.”
    How eager he is to kill something . For a brief moment, Thora could have sworn that the Marquis’s eyes glowed as he spoke of the hunt.
    “And what of Mr. Leedworthy, isn’t he partaking in this gamble?” she asked.
    Wearing a look of disdain and moving closer, he hissed, “Leedworthy would much rather look on the pages of a book than over the barrel of a gun! It makes one wonder what kind of man finds all his enjoyment between the bindings of some novel.”
    Thora stole a glance at the mild-mannered Sandler Leedworthy. His round spectacles mirrored the table’s candlelight, shielding his grey eyes.
    He seemed harmless enough until Marquis Brightington leaned even nearer and cautioned, “I’d be wary of Leedworthy, my dear. Remember one can never tell a book by its cover. Behind that meek exterior could lay a shameful nature.”
    Thora held back a gasp when she again peeked over at Leedworthy and found him staring intently at her. Giving her a weak smile, the bespectacled man returned to his dinner, occasionally having a word or two with Floris who sat on his left and seemed to hang onto his every word like a schoolgirl who bore a crush for her instructor. Whoever had murdered Ivey had to be clever. He had performed his despicable deed under the noses of a houseful of guests and Sandler Leedworthy owned a brilliant mind. Could he be the one? Was Marquis Brightington right? Was Leedworthy’s meekness merely a façade? A mask?
    As more entrees were served, Thora suddenly had the feeling that she was being observed, not by anyone she dubbed a suspect but by Lord Huntscliff. Yet each time she stole a furtive glance at her brother’s old school chum he appeared deeply engrossed in conversation with both the Lady Boothwell and Lauryn, each woman vying for his attention as he sat sandwiched between them. Either he was accustomed to having women flirting with him or he’d been born with the patience of a saint, for he didn’t seem to mind their persistent questions. Furtively, she watched as he dipped his head to listen to the Lady Boothwell cackle.
    “Oh, Lord Huntscliff, you must tell me more about your visit to the continent. I was only telling my husband the other day that it’s been ages since we were abroad. With all those marvelous cities to see, how did you ever tear yourself away?”
    It