Instead, what she felt an almost irresistible urge to tell him was that she’d really like him to kiss her, although not on the cheek asshe’d done to him the day before, but on the lips, because the more she came to know Arthur Livingston, the more she was convinced he would, without question, know his way around a kiss.
She’d never actually been kissed before, which was a pathetic state given her age, but she’d been thinking about kissing quite often of late, doing so, no doubt, because there was a very good chance her life was in danger. How sad would it be if she were to depart the earth before ever enjoying a kiss with a handsome gentleman?
That type of thinking was exactly why she’d kissed Arthur on the cheek, even though what she’d really wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the lips, but thankfully, a bit of sanity had prevailed, and she’d not given in to that particular desire.
It would have been inappropriate to say the least, and besides that, what she’d always dreamed of when she’d dreamed of a first kiss was for a gentleman to take the initiative, pull her ever so close to him, and then cup her face in his large hands and linger on her lips as if he had all the time in the world.
Arthur had large hands.
“Perhaps I should guard the back door?” Arthur asked, pulling her abruptly from thoughts that had the warmth already settled on her face intensifying.
She forced all thoughts of kissing and large hands aside and managed a smile. “I beg your pardon, Arthur. I fear I’m somewhat distracted, but yes, guarding the back door would be appreciated because we certainly don’t want anyone making a stealthy escape.”
“I’m not certain your relatives are capable of stealth, given the mad rush earlier that was hardly discreet,” Arthur said before he headed across the library, stopping in front of the back door where he crossed his arms over his chest and took to looking dangerous.
There was something incredibly appealing about a dangerous-looking man.
Thrusting aside that thought because now was hardly the time to become so thoroughly distracted, Eunice looked to Cooper, who was watching her with a hint of a smile on his face. “What?”
He shrugged. “You’re an interesting woman, Eunice, and while I would love to know what you were just thinking because I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you blush, I think I’ll save that type of questioning for a later date when we don’t have an audience. For now, how do you want to proceed?”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “First, there will be no questioning me because, well, there just won’t. And second, just be ready for the unexpected. There’s no telling what might happen if the family actually agrees to write down their top suspects.” She rubbed her hands together as Ann and Judith hurried into the room. “And now, let the games begin.”
As Ann and Judith began handing out slips of paper and pencils, Eunice ignored the grumbling that was in full swing amongst the family and moved to the center of the room, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Since it appears no one is keen to cooperate by admitting their ... involvement, if you will, with Grandfather’s death, I’m now going to try something different.”
“It was my idea,” Aunt Hazel said, earning more than a few scowls from the family, which she ignored.
“Indeed it was, and it’s a simple enough task, so there’s no need to fret I’m asking any of you to do anything overly strenuous. I simply need you to write down who you believe might have killed Grandfather.”
“This almost sounds like one of those murder mystery games that I’ve heard are all the rage in the big cities,” Hester began, a spark of what almost seemed to be excitement in her eyes. “If this goes well, I may have to introduce a similar game at the next dinner I’m hosting, which is three days from now.”
“You were going to hold a dinner less than a week after you held a memorial for Eunice and me?” Georgette asked, pulling her attention away from Douglas, whom she’d been preoccupiedwith staring at, not even bothering to look away from him when everyone had tried to flee.
Hester bit her lip, evidently realizing she might not be up for the task of defending her decision to host a dinner when the family should have been in mourning, and slunk back against the chair, not saying another word.
“Shall we begin?” Eunice asked, and after much muttering, the family finally picked up their pencils and bent over their pieces of paper, Mrs. Wagner and Vincent the only two not bothering to write anything down.
“We’re not family,” Mrs. Wagner said when Eunice arched a brow her way.
“But yesterday you told me you were considered family, and Vincent made a point of telling me how he was my tutor for years, so I don’t think it would hurt anything if both of you were to participate. I think the more suggestions we get, the better.”
“Of course we’ll participate,” Vincent said, sending his mother a smile. “It might be fun.”
“It’s a peculiar way to have fun, but very well.” Mrs. Wagner picked up her pencil, looked around the room for a moment, then began scribbling away.
It was rather amusing to watch everyone sneaking glances at one another every other second, with Doris and Alice even going so far as to mouth what name they were writing down to each other.
Less than three minutes later, everyone was done. Ann collected the papers and handed them to Eunice, who took a seat beside a small table and began placing the papers in piles according to the names written down, her sense of amusement increasing with every paper. When she was done, she shook her head. “I’ll say one thing for the family, you’re more loyal than I expected, because we have one vote for Georgette, two for Douglas, two votes for St. Nicholas, three votes for me—thank you very much—and ... one other name.”
Georgette released a snort. “It’s ridiculous that anyone would believe Douglas killed Father. Yes, he was treated abominably by him, but Douglas would never resort to murder.”
The fact that her mother was so quick to defend Douglas was quite telling, but before Eunice could dwell on it further, Howard sat forward.
“But he, out of anyone here, had a legitimate reason to want James dead,” Howard said. “James sent him off to the East Indies. I know I would harbor a lot of resentment if something like that happened to me.”
“And one can’t dismiss the information that came back from the investigator who learned that Georgette and Eunice died in India,” Aunt Hazel added.
