Page 37 of Charlotte's Story
Wait a second. Cinnamon?
I tensed and cracked an eye open to find my arms wrapped around William and my face buried against his chest. His arms were around me too—which explained why it was so warm—but his breathing was slow and steady. He was still asleep.
Just for a second, I let myself soak in his warmth even though my instincts told me to pull away. The whole point of our marriage was to keep my heart safe, but maybe I didn’t want to play it safe anymore. What happened with Hugh—that complete and utter betrayal—was the worst possible outcome. But William wasn’t smooth or womanizing. He was awkward and overeager and not good with people. Being with him made me realize how tired I was of being alone.
Maybe it was time for us to renegotiate the terms of our marriage of convenience. I couldn’t deny that a part of me wanted to.
But I was getting ahead of myself. Before we could figure outus, we had to figure out who was trying to hurt William. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him—especially now that I’d finally admitted how I felt.
I eased out of his arms as gently as I could, moving at a snail’s pace. I could have sworn the blanket wrapped around me even more tightly like it didn’t want me to leave his warmth.
William’s head tossed from side to side. Poor guy was having a bad dream. I resisted the urge to reach up and put my hand on his cheek to calm him. Instead, I continued the delicate process of extricating myself.
I’d managed to put quite a few inches between us but hadn’t quite escaped one of his arms when William jerked awake and sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and breathing heavy.
I sat up too. “Are you okay?”
He sucked in a few more deep breaths, then glanced at me. “Bad dream.”
“About what?”
“About that night,” he whispered.
I tensed, electricity running through me like his words were a live wire. “Did you remember something?”
“Yes. No? I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his brown hair, making the short curls even wilder. “May I hold your hand for a moment? I find it helps me focus, helps ground me.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
My necklace warmed, a sign that there was more he wanted to say, but what he’d managed was enough.
“Sure.” I slid my hand over to his and he wrapped his fingers around my slim ones. I’d never thought of William as particularly strong, but the steady way he gripped my handbelied his exterior. He had a quiet strength, one that he probably needed with his work as a pastor.
William’s eyes slid shut and he held my hand firmly but gently as he took slow, even breaths. After a minute, his hazel eyes slid open and found mine. “I think we were wrong.”
“About what?” I whispered back, not sure why we were whispering but not wanting to break his concentration.
“About me being the victim.” He wrinkled his nose in thought. “I don’t think the killer was after me.”
“You don’t?” My mouth fell open. “They were after Dahlia?”
“I think so.” His fingers traced his cuff. “I don’t remember why, but in my dream, or memory, she definitely came to me for help and I remember thinking I needed to protect her. There was something wrong… something that happened.” He blew out a breath. “I can’t remember.”
His words reminded me of Lizzy’s text, and my stomach tightened at the thought that Tessa might be involved.
I caught my thumb rubbing a soothing circle over the back of William’s hand, and I stopped it. “If what you’re saying is true and it’s actually a memory and not just a dream, then that opens up some new avenues to explore. We have lunch scheduled with Tessa, so we can get some info there and maybe find out about whatever secret Dahlia had uncovered about her.”
“Do you think we should let the police handle it from here?” His brow furrowed like he was organizing a particularly difficult set of religious books. “If I’m not the target, maybe we shouldn’t be involved anymore.”
“We can’t stop now.” I shook my head and twisted some of my unruly black locks into a simple braid to keep them out of my face. “You might not have been their intended victim, but the odds are high that you saw the killer, which means they might still come after you to shut you up.”
“That sounds logical.” William sighed. “Didn’t you say they had plans to meet up that night? If so, Tessa talked to Dahlia just a few hours before she died. Maybe Tessa heard something that would be helpful. Or maybe she was the one who killed her.”
I shivered at his blunt tone. “We should also talk to Dahlia’s uncle again. He can probably tell us more about her social life and friends in town.”
I glanced at William. He didn’t like it when I brought up the potential of Lady Catherine’s involvement, which made it hard to talk through all the suspects. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, using the excuse to get out of bed and reinstate a bit of distance between us. “I’ll see if I can find some brunch for us before we go.”
“I’ll join you in a moment.”
I headed to the kitchen and found a note from ChiyoObasannext to two cups of cocoa and a tray of traditional Japanese food. The cocoa must’ve been in her ever-warm mugs since steam was still rising from them. I rummaged through her cupboards until I found a pack of Earl Gray tea, and I let that steep while I admired the breakfast. My stomach grumbled at the smell of the grilled salmon, miso soup, and tamagoyaki, which she’d cut into the shape of snowflakes. I skimmed her note, which told me she’d send me the money within the week so we could start getting things in order. While at first I’d been a little annoyed that she’d wanted me to get married to get the money for my shop, now I was sort of grateful for her heavy-handed methods. I never would’ve given William a chance otherwise.
