Death Comes to London (31 page)

“Major Kurland, you startled me.”

“So I see.” He took off his hat and placed it on the table. “Where is Mrs. Giffin?”

“She went to find the innkeeper’s wife. She’ll be back in a moment.”

Silence fell and she turned away from him and began to take off her gloves.

Robert took a deep breath. “Miss Harrington, have I offended you in some way?”

“Not at all, Major. Why would you think that?”

“Because you are behaving very oddly.” She didn’t reply and he soldiered on. “Did your uncle tell you that he spoke to me yesterday?”

“He did mention that you had called, yes.”

“I didn’t call, I was ordered to turn up and give an account of myself.”

“I assume that he was concerned about Anna and me being exposed to such an unpleasant scene at the Broughtons’.”

“He blamed me, and he had a right to do so.”

She finally met his gaze. “It was my idea, Major. I told him that.”

“I should not have agreed to carry out your plan.”

“You didn’t have to
agree,
Major. Anna and I were quite willing to go ahead and trap Lieutenant Broughton all by ourselves.”

“You would not have been so foolish.”

“That’s hardly the point, is it? As I argued with my uncle, neither you nor Mr. Stanford was responsible for our actions. We aren’t
children.
”

“But you are gently brought up young ladies of good family.” He cleared his throat. “Which brings me to another matter. It has been brought to my attention, Miss Harrington, that my behavior toward you has given rise to general speculation that I should be asking you to marry me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Apparently. So if you believe that I owe you an offer—”

“
Owe
me?”

Her voice had risen, but he was determined to continue. “Yes.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Major Kurland. I’m not like Miss Chingford. I would
never
marry a man who proposed to me just because he thought he had to.”

Her eyes were suspiciously bright and there was a hint of trembling in her normally firm tone that made him take a hasty step toward her, hand outstretched.

“Miss Harrington—”

She gave him a brittle smile. “If you will excuse me, Major Kurland, I must go and see what is keeping Sophia.”

She swept past him, her head held high, and went out slamming the door with unnecessary force behind her.

With a groan, Robert sank into the nearest chair and stared down at his boots. What on earth had he said to put her in such a state? He’d offered to marry her, for God’s sake, something he’d sworn never to be coerced into doing again. And he’d only offered because he’d destroyed her chances of meeting a decent man in London by monopolizing her time to investigate a murder. So why did he feel as if she’d slapped his face instead of merely slammed the door?

It made no sense.

He should be relieved.

The good thing was that he had hours of solitude ahead of him in the carriage to consider the error of his ways while Miss Harrington ignored him and Mrs. Giffin made brave, but ineffectual attempts to start conversation. He had a sense that the rest of his much-anticipated journey back to Kurland St. Mary was not going to be a pleasant experience after all.

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Copyright © 2014 by Catherine Lloyd

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eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8736-6
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First Kensington Electronic Edition: December 2014

ISBN: 978-0-7582-8735-9