Page 8 of Murder in Matrimony
“Nor I,” Kitty added amenably. The friends never missed an opportunity to lend each other support. “It will be a lovely day for a lovely person.”
The proclamation hung in the air, leaving little room for debate, and Amelia felt better, despite Simon’s thick dark eyebrows, which peaked too high in question for her taste. The butler’s surprise knock on the door came just in time to put any question to rest. “Yes, Jones?”
“The curate is here from the parish office. I wouldn’t have interrupted you, but he states it’s urgent. He would not be dissuaded.”
Kitty and Simon frowned in tandem. Amelia hoped her smile would put them at ease. “I went to see Mr. Cross yesterday. He and I made plans for the ceremony.” She turned to Jones.“Please bring Mr. Dougal in. Mrs. Hamsted will be assisting me with the wedding, and any news he has might be informative to all of us.”
Amelia welcomed the curate, who appeared distraught in the extreme. His face was splotched with pink patches, as if he’d had a good cry earlier in the day, and his blue eyes, rimmed in red, attested to the fact.
“Mr. Dougal.” Amelia stood. “Is something wrong?” She crossed the room without thinking.
“Something is very wrong, my lady.” Mr. Dougal shifted from one foot to the other.
“Please, sit down.This is Lord Bainbridge and Mrs. Hamsted.They are helping me with my sister’s wedding plans. Anything you have to say might be said in front of them.” Amelia motioned to the green leather couch across from Simon and Kitty, and after they exchanged greetings, the vicar’s assistant sat down. “Now what is it that has upset you?”
“I come with news.” Mr. Dougal paused. “There is no good way to tell you.”
Inside, Amelia faltered, but she attempted a brave face for the young curate. He was distressed, and worrying about her reaction would only make him more so. “I find the best way is outright and without delay.”
He took a deep breath, summoning his courage. “Mr. Cross has been murdered.”
FOUR
Dear Lady Agony,
Do you read the Accidents and Offenses in the dailies? I do, and increasingly, I’m disturbed by their nature. I find myself thinking about them even when I do not wish to, spending nights tossing and turning long after I’ve shut the paper. What is to be done about London’s problems?
Devotedly,
Saddened by News
Dear Saddened by News,
I am a penny paper authoress, not a constable or clerk with answers to why harm comes to others. I do, however, have answers on how to stop harming yourself, and that is to set the daily aside. It is doing you no good to dwell on the crimes and, in fact, is doing you harm. Sometimes we must be the ones to preserve our own health even at the cost of information. As the old Bible story tells us, not all knowledge is good for us.
Yours in Secret,
Lady Agony
Murdered?The Reverend Mr. Cross? Amelia shook her head. It could not be. Mr. Cross was a pillar of the community. He’d begun a Society for the Greater Good. He was helping the poor in Wapping, finding them work and steering them away from a life of crime. No one in the world would want to murder him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dougal. I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”
Kitty came to Amelia’s side, grasping her hand.
“You heard correctly,” Mr. Dougal said. “He’s gone.”
Amelia could not find the words to respond. Mr. Cross wasnot only her priest but her confidant, and she had very few of them in her life. He’d buried Edgar, counseled her in her grief, and encouraged her to start again. When she told him about her column, he was happy, proud even. He admired the work Lady Agony had done to share workers’ grievances and hold employers accountable. Dead? He could not be dead. Certainly not murdered.
After a moment, Kitty asked, “What happened?”
“The police believe it was a robbery gone terribly wrong.” The worst of his news heard, Mr. Dougal proceeded more quickly. “The poor box was missing, and Mr. Cross was dead on the floor of his office, struck by the clock on his fireplace mantel. The officers believe he confronted the robber and was killed for doing so.”
“That cannot be.” Amelia heard the words more than said them. “The poor box is in the vestibule. According to your account, Mr. Cross was in the vicarage.”
Mr. Dougal looked from Kitty to Simon, his jowls shaking slightly. “It is what the officer said, word for word. I swear it.”
Simon gave him a reassuring look. “I believe Lady Amesbury means the theory doesn’t make sense. If Mr. Cross was indeed killed because of the poor box, he would have struggled with the thief near the box, not his office.” He glanced at Amelia with compassion. “Correct?”
“Yes.” Amelia was beginning to find her voice. “If Mr. Cross interrupted a robbery in progress, one would think he would have been found somewhere in the church.”
