“You’re right. The truth is I am not at all looking forward to lying to your brother and sister-in-law, who, I am certain, are very nice people.”
“Yes,” Benedict said. He opened the carriage door. “They are nice people. We won’t stay long.”
Marissa Stanbridge was a very pleasant, very charming lady, Amity discovered. She was also a very pregnant lady. They sat together in the garden behind the town house. Benedict and Richard were closeted together in Richard’s study. From where she sat Amity caught occasional glimpses of the two men through the French doors, which stood open.
“We will be leaving London as soon as possible after the baby is born,” Marissa said. She touched her belly in a protective manner. “We want to raise our child at our estate in the country, where the air is clean and fresh. The fog here in the city cannot be good for young lungs.”
“I agree,” Amity said.
“The only reason I’m not having the baby at the estate is because Dr. Thackwell maintains his practice here.”
Amity put her cup down in the saucer. “You are satisfied that Dr. Thackwell is a modern-thinking doctor, I assume?”
“Yes, indeed. Richard and I investigated him quite thoroughly. He holds with all the most advanced theories on the importance of cleanliness and sanitation. In addition, he keeps chloroform at hand in the event that the pain becomes unmanageable.”
Amity smiled. “My father was a doctor. From the sound of it, I think he would have approved of Thackwell.”
“I have read your pieces in theFlying Intelligencer,” Marissa said. “You make globetrotting sound very exciting.”
“It has its moments.”
Marissa raised her brows. “Such as when you saved Benedict’s life on St. Clare?”
“He mentioned that business to you?”
“Of course.” Marissa took a sip of her tea. When she lowered the cup she looked at Amity with veiled curiosity. “We are all very grateful to you. It is appalling that you returned home from all your adventures abroad only to encounter that dreadful killer they call the Bridegroom. Benedict is extremely concerned about your safety, to say the least.”
Amity stilled. “I am aware of his concern.”
“It’s only natural under the circumstances.”
“Yes.” Amity sensed that she was on dangerous ground. “But I’m certain that the police will soon locate the killer.”
“Benedict indicated that they think the Bridegroom is a member of the upper classes—that he may actually move in Society.”
“Benedict and the police are working from my impressions of the killer. I am convinced that he is well bred and wealthy and there are reasons to think that he learned about me when the rumors of my... association with Benedict began to circulate after the Channing ball.”
“Those factors will go far to shield the monster from a police investigation.” Marissa paused. “Which is, of course, one reason why Benedict is assisting in the inquiries.”
“I know. As I said, I’m sure the police will find the killer soon.”
“And then what will happen, Miss Doncaster?” Marissa asked gently.
Amity nearly choked on a swallow of tea. It took a moment to pull herself together.
“Sorry,” she said. “Not sure I understand the question. What do you suppose will happen?”
“What I think,” Marissa said coolly, “is that once the killer is caught there will no longer be any need for you and Benedict to remain engaged. When the danger is past, you will be free to publish your book and set sail on another journey to some exotic foreign port of call.”
Amity froze. “Are you implying that you think my engagement to Benedict is a fraud?”
“Yes, Miss Doncaster, that is my great fear.”
“I see. I’m not sure what to say, Mrs. Stanbridge.”
“You must call me Marissa.”
Amity glanced toward the open doors of the study, hoping that Benedict would miraculously emerge and take charge of the situation. But he and his brother both had their heads down over some papers spread out on Richard’s desk.
