A Daring Liaison(14)
“She is not—”
“No, she has no immediate plans to leave the country. She mentioned that she has business to attend, then will consider it. We have another fortnight to find our answers, at a minimum.”
Wycliffe frowned. “Who is her solicitor?”
Charles had had enough time in the past two days to discover a good many facts about the infamous widow. “Goodman is her solicitor.”
“If we need to delay her in London, I will persuade him to hold up Mrs. Huffington’s business matters.”
Wycliffe could be very persuasive and Charles hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. His superior could have a very heavy hand on occasion.
Richardson nudged him with another glance at the ladies as the orchestra signaled an intermission. “Are you going to introduce us?”
Still watching Mrs. Huffington, Charles considered the question. She was airy tonight, dressed in a heavenly froth of willow green with a fluid overdress of translucent cream. Even from this distance, he could see the graceful column of her throat, the lush curve of her breasts and the sensual way her lips curved into a smile when she saw him across the distance.
To his dismay, he suddenly realized that he wanted her. Despite her rejection. Despite the intervening years and marriages. Despite that she could be a cold-blooded killer and may have contracted the murder of his best friend and his wounding, he still wanted her.
That thought disturbed him. She was an assignment. No more. She was a potentially murderous female who’d gotten away with two crimes, perhaps four if her aunt’s death had not been natural and Booth had been one of her casualties. She was intelligent, clever and forthright—a lethal combination in a woman. And because of those things, she could easily have stymied the authorities. However he dealt with her, he would have to keep on his guard.
He noted the eager light in Richardson’s eyes and the interested spark in Wycliffe’s expression and sighed. “Come on, then.”
Within moments, the introductions were performed and several conversations were struck up, leaving Charles free to watch. Hortense and Harriett quickly snagged Harry Richardson’s attention, and after a few quiet words with Mrs. Huffington, Wycliffe turned to greet Jamie and Gina. Seizing the opening Wycliffe had given him, Charles nodded to the widow as she raised her fan and snapped it open.
“You look flushed, Mrs. Huffington. Are you feeling well?”
“Very well, thank you, Mr. Hunter. Just a bit warm.”
“I believe there is time for a breath of fresh air, if you’d like.”
“Thank you. That should be just the tonic I need.” She retrieved a cream cashmere shawl from the back of her chair and took his arm.
Charles was pleased to find that none of the others followed them. A few moments alone with Mrs. Huffington would seal their friendship and relax her suspicions. He couldn’t help noticing the heads that turned to watch them descend the double staircase to the rotunda and exit the building. Tongues would wag, he was certain, but gossip would work to his advantage, discouraging other potential suitors by signaling his own interest.
Once they were on the street, he draped the shawl over her shoulders against the cool night air and turned her toward the square. Covent Garden, alive with excitement until the wee hours, always had something interesting to offer.
“I never grow bored in London,” Mrs. Huffington said as if reading his mind.
“And yet you’ve spent most your life shut away in the countryside.”
She laughed and looked up at him, stopping his breath with her beauty. “Aunt Caroline was not comfortable in London after her accident. I might have made another decision.”
Ah, yes. Her disfigurement. “When did that occur?”
She shrugged and her shawl slipped down one creamy white shoulder. “Aunt Caroline said it happened the year before I was born. She did not like to speak of it, so I did not ask more. And as much as she dreaded London, the dear woman made certain I had my come-out. She so badly wanted to see me happily married that she brought me to town to husband-hunt.”
A task she had excelled at, evidently. “How gratifying you had no problem finding one. Or two. Still, ’tis a pity she did not live to see you happily married.”
“She did. Twice, remember? It was only after my last fiancé’s tragic death that she lost heart for my future.”
He looked down at her to see if she was serious. They had touched on this subject before, but she had never admitted to having a fiancé. Perhaps he was making progress in gaining her trust. He decided not to pursue that particular subject just now since Booth’s death only angered him. “Did she believe you were happily married?”