Page 66 of Murder at the Dinner Party
Harmony emerged from the bedroom, grabbed my hand and hauled me to my feet. “Yes, and it’s also too late to do your hair properly. I only have time to add a few pins to tuck in the loose strands. It’s a shame thesuitablegentleman won’t see you at your best, but so be it.”
I groaned. “That was my uncle’s thinly veiled attempt at saying Harry isn’t suitable, wasn’t it?”
“Not so thinly veiled. A herd of elephants has more subtlety.”
I laughed, despite everything. As she helped me dress, I told her what we’d learned that day about the two murders. By the end, my mood had flattened again. Harmony was no help when it came to deciding whether the Whitchurches spoke the truth. If true, their story sewed up all the holes, leaving a watertight case that pointed to their innocence.
So, if the Whitchurches didn’t poison Mr. Hardy, who did?
CHAPTER13
The following morning, Harmony eyed me dubiously as she carried our breakfast tray into my room. “Either you had a very good night after imbibing a little too much wine, or you had a terrible night. It’s not always possible to tell which with you.”
I followed her into the sitting room and flopped onto a chair. “I slept poorly. I couldn’t stop thinking about the case. Both cases, actually—the murders of Charlotte and Mr. Hardy.”
“We still don’t know if Hardy was murdered.” She lifted the lid on the platter and passed me the plate of toast. “You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten something.”
“I’ll feel better after coffee.” I reached for the silver pot and poured the steaming contents into the matching cups.
“You’lllookbetter after you’ve dressed and done your hair.” She gave me another dubious glance. “And perhaps a little powder under your eyes to cover the dark circles. Do you want to discuss the thoughts that kept you awake?”
“Inspiration didn’t strike, so unfortunately I don’t have any new theories. Let’s discuss something else instead. I need a distraction.”
“A distraction in the form of Harry Armitage?”
“Absolutely not. I mean, he’s not distracting. Not in the least. He’s simply…a friend.”
“Friends don’t kiss.”
I eyed her over the coffee cup. “I regret telling you about that now.”
She chewed her toast thoughtfully. “If he’s merely a friend, why did you involve him so much in this investigation? Could it be that you want to see more of him and the investigation is a good excuse?”
“He’s helpful. Can we discuss something else?”
“How was the ‘suitable gentleman’ at dinner last night?”
“A perfect gentleman and eminently suitable. The son of a wealthy heiress and an earl, no less. He stands to inherit a titleanda fortune.”
“What more could a woman want?”
“He was also quite good-looking, didn’t get drunk, and didn’t speak about himself overmuch, although on three occasions, he did manage to inform me how one day he’d be wealthy and titled.”
“You can’t blame a fellow for ensuring a lady knows his best traits. So, what was wrong with him?”
“What makes you think something was wrong?”
“There always is with you.”
“That’s not true!” I plucked a piece of toast from the platter. “But in this instance, you’re right. He asked me what plans I have for the future.”
Harmony groaned. “You told him you want to be a private detective.”
“Lord, no. My uncle would loathe it if I told yet another gentleman about that. No, I simply told him I don’t plan on marrying. He spent the rest of dinner speaking to the lady on his other side.”
Harmony laughed.
“What about your evening?” I asked. “Did you and Victor discussyourplans for the future?”
