Page 45 of Marriage and Murder
She continued pacing but a little slower as she pondered such conundrums.
She was approaching the line of trees that were the outliers of the strip of woodland that ran along the cottage’s rear boundary when movement ahead drew her eye, and she saw Monty walking along the edge of the wood toward her.
From the smile that lit his face when he realized she’d seen him, he was obviously intending to intercept her.
Madeline stifled a sigh. She truly wished that he wasn’t there—that she didn’t have to deal with him. Yesterday, while she and Henry had been in Shaftesbury, she’d accepted an invitation to dine with him at Glossup Hall. Although she was in mourning and there was always the question of propriety, Henry had pointed out that they would be surrounded by his staff and that a quiet dinner would give her an opportunity to tell him what they’d discovered that day.
Given how supportive he’d been, she’d decided she owed him the update and that her reputation would survive a quiet dinner.
Henry had said he would call at the cottage in his curricle at five-fifteen, and knowing him as she now did, she didn’t doubt that he would be on time. As Monty drew nearer, she couldn’t help but contrast Henry’s solid reliability, his constancy andsteadfast nature, with the fecklessness andunreliability of the man before her.
Regardless, she could all but hear her father say that was no excuse to be rude and summarily dismiss Monty, so she found a polite smile, halted at the edge of the wood, and extended her hand.
With his customary grace, Monty grasped her fingers and bowed over them. As he straightened and she retrieved her hand, which he only reluctantly released, he said, “I saw you in the field and thought I should at least act as your escort through the wood. There is a murderer on the loose, after all.”
Madeline merely inclined her head and, with a wave, invited him to join her as she walked on, following the narrow path that led through the wood and into the cottage’s rear garden. They’d been later than she’d hoped leaving Salisbury, and while she would have liked to tidy her hair and brush off her gown before Henry called, she accepted that was now unlikely, not least because Monty would do his best to delay her with incidental conversation.
Sure enough, his next words were “Have you been out of the village today?”
She nodded. “I went to Salisbury to assist the investigators.”
“Oh? In what way?”
She was about to explain when Stokes’s request flashed into her mind. “Actually, the inspector in charge of the case wanted to know where you lived, and I realized I don’t know.” She glanced at Monty, but his expression was his usual charming yet unrevealing mask. “You haven’t mentioned it. So the inspector asked me to ask you the next time I met you.”
A frown appeared in Monty’s eyes, darkening his face. “Why does he need to know?”
“Well, they are investigating a murder, and you are a gentleman who lives in the area and, clearly, is in the vicinityof the cottage.” She waved ahead to where the walls of the cottage were now visible through the trees. “Mostly, it’s for the inspector’s records in case they end up searching the area thoroughly.” She paused and waited.
When Monty seemed to be debating giving her an answer, she started to wonder why.
He glanced at her, his gaze sweeping her face. No doubt seeing her increasing puzzlement, he smiled rather wanly and offered, “I have a house outside Bowerchalke. Just a bolt hole, really. Now, I wanted to ask”—he paused for a second—“about your sister’s funeral. I would like to attend, if only to support you in that sad hour.”
Madeline knew a deflection when she heard one, but calmly replied, “It will, I hope, be held at St. Edmund’s in Salisbury. I need to meet with the minister to settle on a date and time.”
Somewhat to her relief, they’d reached the edge of the wood, and Monty halted. “I’ll leave you here.” He nodded ahead. “It appears you have guards aplenty.”
Madeline looked and saw William Price and Jim Swinson working in the cottage’s vegetable garden. She smiled and, over her shoulder, directed a polite nod Monty’s way. “Goodbye, then.”
She stepped out of the wood into the open edge of the garden. As she headed for the path that led to the kitchen door, William and Jim saw her and waved.
She waved back, feeling distinctly lighter. She returned her gaze to the house, and the clatter of wheels in the lane drew her attention past the corner of the cottage, and she saw Henry drive up in his curricle.
To her amazement, her heart leapt—for the first time in her life, she actually felt it do so, actually understood what the phrase meant.
Her smile widening, she increased her pace and deviated around the cottage to reach the front gate and the lane beyond.
Henry saw her coming, and his smile was one of welcome and expectant delight.
She couldn’t help but beam back.
She opened the gate and let it swing shut behind her as she walked to the curricle’s side.
Henry leaned across and gave her his hand to help her up to the seat beside him.
She settled, and he expertly turned the curricle and set the chestnut pacing back around the pond and on along High Street, out of the village toward Glossup Hall.
As the trees bordering the lane enclosed them in shadows, Henry rather hesitantly admitted, “Both my staff and I are looking forward to this dinner. I confess I haven’t entertained in…quite a while.”
