were not precisely in the social status where Meg should look for a husband.
“So,” Charlotte continued, “Meg was flirting outrageously with the new one and got her skirts all tangled and fell right against him—knocking him straight to the ground. Then she simply lay there.” Charlotte threw her arms up. “On top of him, as if she had no good sense.”
Amelia glanced at Meg to see how she was faring with Charlotte’s tale of the afternoon’s events. Instead of blushing with embarrassment, she grinned unabashedly.
“I snatched her up, though, pulled her right off of him. He seemed rather annoyed, if truth be told.”
Meg frowned. “Yes, he’s a different sort. Quiet and peevish.” She shrugged. “I simply cannot figure him out.” She held one finger up. “But I shall.”
“You really ought to be more careful,” Willow warned. “Not all men are such gentlemen.”
“Duly noted, Willow. I shall endeavor to be more careful,” Meg said, then turned her attention to Amelia. “Before we begin, how is the investigation progressing?”
“I am still working on persuading the good inspector that he needs an assistant,” Amelia said.
“He is reluctant?” Charlotte asked.
“Fiercely independent,” Amelia said. “But I have spoken to two people who have offered to give me information should they discover any. I’m hoping that will change his mind. I’ll visit his offices this afternoon.”
“Best of luck, then,” Charlotte said. “I’m certain he will realize your value in due time.”
Amelia certainly hoped her friend was right. Her information was ambiguous at best. But hopefully it was enough to persuade Inspector Brindley that he could use her help. If not, she would simply make herself a nuisance until he agreed.
“Have any of you discovered anything new with regard to the Jack of Hearts?” Amelia asked.
“I spoke with Millicent,” Willow said. “I decided I would be the safest ally, considering her feelings towards Charlotte. She didn’t have anything of substance to provide. Merely offered her own speculations about the thief.”
“Which were?” Charlotte asked.
Willow rolled her eyes. “She suspects her cousin George.”
“Didn’t she once accuse him of stealing her hairpins?” Meg asked.
“Precisely. Clearly, Millicent has some sort of vendetta against her cousin. Needless to say, it wasn’t helpful, but she assured me she’d let me know if she heard anything.”
“I’ve been watching the papers,” Charlotte said. “They haven’t printed anything about him in over a week.
“Perhaps he was caught,” Meg said.
“That would be a shame,” Charlotte said.
Willow tossed her arms up. “Oh, honestly.”
“Keep your eyes and ears open and write down anything that might be of interest regarding this case,” Amelia said. “If nothing else is printed, we shall assume he has been caught. But something tells me he’s only just begun.”
After Amelia’s friends had left, she went upstairs to check on her father. He still had not lefthis bedchamber and Amelia was at a loss for what to do.
She knocked on the door and heard him say something softly, but it was too quiet to decipher, so she simply let herself in.
“Papa? How are you feeling today?” she asked.
He turned from the window to face her, but did not respond.
It pained her to see him this way. She felt so helpless. “Would you like me to bring you anything? Or I could have your favorite meal prepared tonight. Would you like that?”
“I’m not hungry,” he said.
“Oh, but you must be. You hardly touched your breakfast.” She went over to him and draped her arm across his shoulders. “You must eat something. Promise me.” She tilted his head so she could look him in the eye.
He blinked, then nodded. “I promise.”
“Excellent. Would you like to join me in the dining room this evening?”
“No, I prefer to stay in here.”
“Very well.” She would not allow him to stay up
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley