Page 24 of The Last Chance
Miss Moorland sighed. “The poets say love is sublime.Though when it comes to marriage, I would happily settle for a kind man who accepts my interest in the macabre. Perhaps a handsome doctor like Mr Gentry.”
Gentry! The man was married to his work. And a woman with Miss Moorland’s timid disposition would not convince him to push his responsibilities aside and indulge in carnal pleasures.
Finding romantic chatter mind-numbing, Aaron snatched an opportunity to avoid this drivel. “On the subject of the macabre, let’s return to the more sensible subject of murder.”
Miss Moorland took offence, any fears of speaking her mind vanishing like a puff of smoke. “You believe worrying about one’s prospects is foolish? Do you know what it’s like to have no control over your life? To have your wishes discarded like peelings thrown on a compost heap?”
An unwelcome memory invaded Aaron’s thoughts.
You’re coming with me, boy.
I’ll hear no more of your whimpering.
“Trust me,” he said, striving to keep the menacing edge from his tone. “I know the feeling better than you ever will.”
A tense silence ensued, broken by the lively chatter in the other booths, someone coughing up a piece of cake and Miss Stowe stirring her tea.
“It seems we have more in common with Mr Chance than one might expect,” Miss Lovelace said, playing peacemaker. “As a man who knows the true meaning of desperation, perhaps we might enlist his help with our cause.”
Aaron sensed he’d stepped into a trap. “Your cause?”
“Helping my ladies in the fight to find suitable husbands.”
“What the devil has it got to do with me?”
Excitement shone in Miss Stowe’s eyes. “There is no man more intimidating. We might practise the art of conversation with Mr Chance.”
“Like hell you will.”
“You see.” Miss Stowe was pointing at him now. “He’s totally disagreeable and a perfect candidate for our studies.”
“What an excellent idea.” Miss Lovelace beamed at her protégés. “What would you consider to be Mr Chance’s best physical feature? I’m sure he’s keen to know. Don’t be afraid to voice your opinion.”
Aaron stood abruptly and tossed back the remains of his coffee. “I’m not a performing monkey. I’ll pay the bill and wait outside. May I remind you we have a week to solve the crime?”
The infuriating Miss Lovelace grabbed his arm and stared at him with doe eyes. “Please, Mr Chance. What if someone had offered you a helping hand? You can reply as you see fit. The sharper the better.”
“Your ladies won’t withstand my criticism.” They lacked her strength and undeniable resilience. “We have enough to deal with without this circus show.”
“I think his shoulders are his best feature,” Miss Moreland said, popping on her spectacles to study him in greater detail. “You’re?—”
“Dare say another word, madam, and you’ll not like my reply.”
Miss Lovelace encouraged her student. “Don’t be intimidated. Mr Chance is exceptionally good at making a woman feel foolish.” She looked at him, a pleading he found hard to ignore. “Allow her to finish, and we will turn our attention back to solving the murder.”
Were he not the prime suspect, he would curse them all to Hades. “You have one chance to explain why, Miss Moorland. Then I never want to hear your empty compliments again.”
Miss Moorland waited for him to sit before she rose to the challenge. “You’re practically bursting out of that coat.”
Aaron scoffed. “If you want to leave a man intrigued, you might try being a little more subtle.”
“Allow me to show you.” Miss Lovelace turned in the seat,her vibrant eyes observing the breadth of his shoulders. “You must give me the name of your tailor, Mr Chance. I’ve never seen a man fill a coat quite so well.”
Their eyes met, and he felt the ache in his loins that made him want to clear the coffeehouse, knock the cups on the floor, and take Miss Lovelace over the table. “Your comment screams of insincerity.”
She smiled. “How odd. I meant every word.”
Her honest response only heightened her appeal.
