Page 64 of Black Widow

Amelia scoffed. “I don’t need that kind of protection! You’re the one who will be implicated in the murder—unless you’re willing to explain about thegiant.”

Gideon eyed her cautiously. “We’ll tell the authorities enough to satisfy them, but I don’t think it’s wise to go into detail about the particulars, love, should they insist on speaking to you. In fact, leaving out all mention of demons and the occult would bebest.”

She bit her lip. He was correct. They would think she wasmad…

The carriage arrived at Flint House. They exited in a flurry of movement, but she hesitated at the frontdoor.

“Amelia.”

She looked up to meet his eyes in the moonlight. “Yes?”

“This is not the way I would have chosen to do this, but I do love you and I want you to be mywife.”

It felt as if the ground had given way underneath her. He smiled as he steadied her on her feet. “Please, say you will marry me…rightnow.”

“Now?” She looked at the door, and then back tohim.

“Yes. Clarke and Crispin are waiting with theminister.”

“But thebanns—”

“I have a special license. I’ve had one forweeks.”

“Oh.”

Gideon held out his hand. Amelia stared at it for a long moment. Breathing deeply, she took it with both of her own. She walked into the house with him, into herfuture.

Chapter 24

The interviewwith the authorities was going exactly as Gideon hadpredicted.

“And when was the last time you spoke to your guardian?” Inspector Hayesasked.

“If you recall when it was, that is,” Sir Lennon interjected. The small rotund man fingered his cravat, trying to loosen it. The neckpiece was tied so elaborately she had to wonder if he could turn hishead.

Sitting in the chair to Sir Lennon’s right, Hayes rolled his eyes but stopped short when he glanced behind her where Gideon wasstanding.

She was sitting behind her husband’s desk in the study at Flint House. A few days had passed since their hastymarriage.

News of their union, coming so close on the heels of Sir Clarence’s murder, spread like wildfire across the entire ton. It was the scandal of the moment, but Amelia saw firsthand what Gideon had meant about weddings wiping away allsins.

Since the announcement of their marriage in the Times, they had received a flood of invitations and cards. While Amelia had been next to a pariah as Widow Montgomery, as the Countess of Flint, she was all the rage. Her fortune and beauty, previously viewed as the sinister lures she used to ensnare men, were now assets for her husband to enjoy. Gideon was—hypocritically in her view—openly congratulated for securing her hand. The connection to a gruesome murder only seemed to add to theirmystique.

So many callers had lined up at the door Gideon put his foot down and closed the house to visitors, complaining viciously about parasites and rumor mongers. Amelia hadn’t liked entertaining any of their callers either, but she had met one or two genuinely kind ladies hauled to her door by their social-climbingconnections.

“It was several weeks ago. I saw him at a garden party,” Amelia replied, choosing to omit the details of theconversation.

“I was very sorry to hear of his passing,” she added with genuine feeling. Whatever his sins, no one deserved to die as he had—not that her husband had chosen to share the details with her. But she’d heard enough from her callers to surmise it had been a bloody and painfulend.

Sir Lennon thanked her and reached inside his waistcoat for a handkerchief. He wiped his sweaty brow, his eyes sliding over her shoulder to Gideon as if he couldn’t helphimself.

No doubt her husband was wearing a terrifyingly forbidding expression because both men were cautious and on edge, though Hayes’ seemed a touch resentful. Amelia didn’t know if it was because he felt hamstrung by the presence of the earl or if it was because the local magistrate had insisted on sitting in on theconversation.

“And you didn’t see him on the eleventh, on the day he died?” Inspector Hayes asked, looking as if he half-expected Gideon tointerject.

Her husband shifted his weight. She glanced over her shoulder to see him stone-faced with his arms crossed, but he didn’tinterrupt.

“No, as I said, the last time was at the Wescott’s gardenparty.”

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