Page 26 of Murder at Madame Chambon's
William looked up from his morning coffee and scrambled eggs as his butler placed it on the white tablecloth.
“Ah, yes.I’ll read it later,” he said, distracted.It seemed all he could think about these days was Miss Tarot.
Had she, too, experienced the same extraordinary connection he had felt when they’d danced together?Talked together?
Why, they’d saved a child.Only because the two of them had joined forces had it been possible to whisk the young boy from the jaws of certain death.
That was no small matter.They had saved the life of the child.And as they’d exchanged, in that one look immediately afterwards, the knowledge that this would forever unite them, William had also known that Miss Tarot was the one woman, above all others, he would wed.
Everything had crystallized as, last night, he’d gone over his intended approach.Not once, but a hundred times as he’d calculated how he could navigate the disentanglement of Miss Tarot from any understanding that may have been forged between her and Dunstable.
No, Miss Tarot and William belonged together.They had already proved the strength of their union when saving the child, William, and together they would have children of their own.
If William had any doubts about where Miss Tarot’s heart belonged, he had only to recall the look in her eyes when they’d rediscovered one another.
All his own desires, feelings, passions had been reflected there.
Usually William’s butler simply dropped the newspaper and left but now he hovered, uncertainly, before saying, “You might want to read it when you’re still sitting down, m’lord.”
William glanced at him, surprised, then pulled the newspaper towards him, nearly spilling his coffee, so great was his shock.
What was all this?Dunstable’s name was splashed across the front page?
Then the headline, which he’d finally forced himself to read, penetrated his brain.“Good God!”he spluttered, knocking his coffee cup so that it nearly overturned.
Dunstable was dead?Murdered?
Minutes before, he’d wished for a good reason to see Dunstable out of the running when it came to whom Miss Tarot would choose for her husband.
Murder had not been one of them.
He skimmed the article, searching for details, but though the commentary was florid, the facts were sparse.It did, however, allude to the fact Dunstable may have been in a dubious location.
Madame Chambon’s?
William rolled his eyes.He could well imagine Dunstable a habitual visitor to that den of iniquity.Miss Tarot did not deserve the blackguard whereas William…
Carefully, William re-read the piece.There was no mention of Dunstable’s impending nuptials.Nor had there been any public announcement.
For a few minutes, William stared blankly at the front page while the newsprint blurred before his eyes, his mind actively engaged on a wild ride of supposition in the absence of fact, but ultimately, relief that Miss Tarot’s name did not appear.
Of course, he should feel nothing but horror at poor Dunstable’s fate, but what other contender for a woman’s affections wouldn’t carry a hopeful flame in their heart?
Certainly, William and Dunstable had shared a friendship of sorts, but William had no real affinity with the man.He’d only suggested the visit to the zoological gardens because he had the excuse at hand after Dunstable had vaguely mentioned he’d promised his cousin Clara a visit.
In such a situation—William thought as he rose and tossed his napkin onto the table—it was entirely proper to rush to offer Miss Tarot his assistance, support… and a reaffirmation of his romantic feelings in the guise of condolences.
Thus,an hour later, he was being shown into Lady Perry’s drawing room, a black armband tied around his elbow, bowing his head as lovely Miss Tarot made her entrance.
She was dressed soberly in hues of pale mauve.
Not mourning, then.
“Lord Bellingham.”She offered him a half smile as she waved him to a seat, sinking down on a chair a little to his right while Lady Perry perched on one on his other side.“It was good of you to come.”She hesitated.“I confess, too, to being surprised.”
“And why would that be when you know—” He stopped.He was not the kind of man to blurt out declarations and was astonished he’d nearly done so.But visions of Miss Tarot had consumed him since their first meeting.
Her words, however, gave him pause.
