Page 57 of A Captain, a Corpse, and Miss Bridges
“Quite,” Crabb agreed cheerfully.
Miss Vale stirred again, and James was just beginning to wonder how best they might proceed when the sound of laboured breathing at the door drew their attention.
They turned their heads to see Mr Marrowbone—puffed and pink-faced from climbing two flights of stairs—shuffle into the room.
“Another case solved,” he announced with great satisfaction, as his eyes landed on Miss Vale sprawled upon the floor.
“Yes, well done, Marrowbone,” Crabb drawled.
The constable missed the sarcasm entirely. His chest swelled with pride as he declared, “I had my suspicions about her all along, you know.”
“Of course you did,” Lord Crabb sighed, before turning his attention to Flora and James. “The constable and I can take care of matters from here—I’m sure Miss Bridges could do with some rest after all her heroics.”
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine—” Flora began to protest but James cut her off.
“I’ll escort you back to your grandmother’s,” he said firmly. A walk would afford them some more time alone—and James had a sneaking suspicion that if Mrs Bridges wasn’t the first to hear about their engagement, then there would be no wedding at all.
Flora’s dark eyes met his, her lips parting in an “o” of understanding.
“Well, now that you say it, I do feel a touch of tiredness,” she told the viscount gravely. “And if we’re not needed, then I suppose it’s best we get out of your hair—at once.”
She offered Crabb and Marrowbone a bright smile, then turned on her heel to catch James’ outstretched hand.
Together, they descended the stairs to the entrance hall of the inn, where they near collided with Mr Goodwin, who was clutching a portmanteau and checking his time piece.
“I say,” he said, as he saw them. “Have you seen Miss Vale? I know it wouldn’t be chivalrous of me to leave without her—but I must catch this stage. I don’t want to miss the reading of the will. It’s not everyday a man becomes obscenely wealthy.”
“Miss Vale has been delayed,” James told the young man. “Indefinitely.”
Mr Goodwin blinked, clearly not grasping the gravity beneath James’s words.
“Delayed?” he echoed, scratching his head. “Well that’s a pity. Do you think she’ll forgive me for leaving without her?”
“I believe it will the least of her future concerns,” James assured him.
That was enough for Mr Goodwin, who departed with a cheery smile and a promise to stay in touch despite his fortune. James and Flora gave him a moment, before they too set off from the inn.
Outside, the village appeared deserted—eerily so, as though all of Plumpton had vanished. But as they walked on, the mystery revealed itself. A boisterous knot of men spilled out of The Ring, their raised voices carrying across the road, while the women had colonised the village green, perched among the half-dismantled market stalls to dissect the morning’s events with unabashed relish.
“Oh dear,” Flora whispered, letting her hand slip from his.
Mrs Canards had sighted them. Her beady eyes gleaming, she detached herself from her gaggle and bore down upon them.
“What’s this I hear about Miss Vale being the one to have poisoned Sir Ambrose, Miss Gardiner?” she demanded.
James bristled at the imperious tone directed at his future wife—but Flora beat him to it.
“It’s Miss Bridges,” she said coolly, tilting her chin.
“Miss Bridges, Miss Gardiner—I can’t keep up with your many monikers,” Mrs Canards sniffed, glancing over her shoulder to ensure her audience of villagers was listening.
“Such a pity your faculties are failing, Mrs Canards,” James drawled, sliding his hand into Flora’s. “Though it is to be expected at your age. And you had best sharpen your memory—for soon you’ll have to add a third name. Flora has kindly agreed to become Mrs Thorne.”
He doffed his hat to the cantankerous tabby and her circle of cronies, then whisked Flora away before Mrs Canards could gather her wits.
“Do you know,” Flora whispered as they crossed the low stone bridge over the river, “I thought nothing would ever make me as happy as hearing you say that you loved me—but if I’m honest, seeing the look on Mrs Canards’ face just now came a very close second.”
James laughed, bending to kiss her hair. “I’ll happily slay any dragon that dares cross your path, if it makes you smile like that.”
