Page 36 of Murder in Matrimony
“If I liked you any better, Traber, I’d force you into an engagement, here and now.” Simon returned his gaze to theyoung man. “As it is, however, I’d like an apology and your word that you will never engage my sister alone again.”
“I … uh …” Lord Traber’s voice was no louder than a mumble.
“I need your word, Traber.”
“Come now, Lord Bainbridge.” Amelia tried another drawer. “Be reasonable. No harm ever came from reading a book.”
“Dash it all!” Simon exclaimed. “No one was reading a book.”
“Keep your voice down.” Amelia found a ledger of accounts. “Ah ha.”
“Lady Amesbury. Are you, is that—”
“It seems Traber has forgotten how to speak altogether.” Simon crossed his arms, and the black fabric stretched taut at his shoulders. “I believe I asked you for an apology and your word to never see my sister again.”
Amelia glanced up.
Marielle crossed her arms, looking only a little less fierce. “And I believe you are behaving like a brute. Wewillbe seeing each other—frequently. There is nothing you can do about it.”
Amelia went back to the ledger. The argument was coming to a climax; she needed to find an example of Lord Applegate’s penmanship fast.
“Oh really?” challenged Simon.
“Really,” Marielle repeated.
Amelia used her fingertips as a guide, scanning line after line of letters and numbers. Despite being in print, the blackmailer’s letters included a curl in the letter “z” that made it distinct. If she could find the letter in the ledger, she might be able to make an instant match. Harrods … Tattersalls … John Timms … Thomas Ziegler. “Success!” No curl was found in the letter “z.” She shut the ledger, and when she did, she noted three pairs of eyes on her.
She returned the ledger to its place and casually strolled over to the bookshelf. “The Birds of Europe.” She pulled out the book. “I thought I recognized the tome. It is sure to be indispensable, Lord Traber, if Lord Applegate agrees to lend it to you.”
“I’ll ask him right now.” Lord Traber nervously took the book when she offered it. “Thank you.”
Amelia smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“I know what this is, Amelia,” said Simon. “It is your poor attempt to conceal this man’s vile actions against my sister, and I will have you and everyone in this room know that I am aware of it. This book is a prop like any in your vaudeville acts. If I didn’t know better, I’d declare you a conjurer, pulling it from a well-disguised hat.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Not a hat, a bookshelf.” She opened the door to the study, checking the hallway for signs of activity. Seeing none, she tossed a look over her shoulder. “Though as for that, books are rather magical.”
Without a retort, Simon threw up his hands and followed, his sister and Lord Traber trailing behind him.
SIXTEEN
Dear Lady Agony,
So many young women are ignorant of the art of the handkerchief. Could you give them a refresher on the ways one can employ it if the need arises?
Devotedly,
Handle Your Handkerchief
Dear Handle Your Handkerchief,
When conversation affords no entrance, a handkerchief speaks what words cannot. Commit these to your memory like the lines of your favorite prayer, ladies. They might just be your salvation.
Drawing the handkerchief across your cheek means I love you.
Drawing the handkerchief across your eyes means I am sorry.
Drawing the handkerchief across your lips means I desire your acquaintance.
