Free Blood Marriage by Regina Richards Page A

because it was the right thing to do, because you thought I would be ruined, but none of that matters because--"
    He leaned in close and Elizabeth forgot what she'd been about to say. His hand released the single lock of hair and slipped around the back of her head. He pulled gently. She came to him. His lips pressed against the inside of her collarbone and a delicious shiver ran through her. Her head fell back and she arched toward him. A path of slow fire followed the route his tongue traced up the side of her neck. She barely knew the man; she should be alarmed. Instead she felt mesmerized by the sensations tingling through her. 
    He released her abruptly. She made a soft mew of protest. When she opened her eyes, he was standing in the open doorway, his back to the room, one hand clenched on the door frame.
    "Devlin?" 
    "I must change for dinner." His voice was strained, guttural. He didn't turn to face her. "The gown of moonlight and roses is for our wedding. There are others that will do for tonight." He started to leave.
    "But we didn't talk," Elizabeth said. 
    "Tonight," he said, and was gone.

Chapter Thirteen
     
    "I had my wife cover the girl with a sheet, but otherwise all remains as it was found, right down to the wash basket. At least so my good spouse assures me." Mr. Dawes trotted across his back lawn, adjusting his paisley waistcoat with one hand, smoothing his thinning hair with the other. A bit of kidney pie, if Fielding didn't miss his guess, road along in one of his sideburns.
    "My health being what it is..." Dawes lips tightened against a belch; his cheeks expanded in a toadish puff. "...I've not been able to be of great assistance. But my father was a magistrate, you see, so I know how this sort of business is to be handled and was able to give my good wife the best of instructions. She is gone now to share the harsh news with the girl's family." 
    They reached the low-slung clothesline. Detective Fielding stepped around a basket of clothing and ducked between two fluttering shirts. No more than three yards distance from the abandoned basket lay a sheet-shrouded figure. Serviceable boots protruded from one end of the white linen. The top of a prim maid's cap was visible at the other. Fielding nodded to two uniformed bobbies and they moved a discrete distance away leaving Lennie Hodges standing alone on the opposite side of the body.
    "She's a parlor maid. She wouldn't normally be hanging clothes, but my wife, being of soft heart, allowed the laundress a few days off to care for ailing parents." Mr. Dawes had followed the detective through the drying laundry. "Her name's Penny or Patty or some such. Mrs. Dawes will know, I'm sure."
    Lennie dropped to one knee and lifted the sheet away from the maid's face. "What little sun there's been today will be down soon," he said. "Judging from the condition of the body, it probably happened this morning."
    "This morning?" Fielding frowned at Mr. Dawes. "And she wasn't found until now?"
    Mr. Dawes minced sideways at the detective's tone. "It's the servants' day off. Once they finish their morning duties of course. I don't track such comings and goings, but the household likely thought she'd taken herself off for the day. Found her when they went out to fetch the wash in." 
    "Seems a footman was the last to see her alive," Lennie said. "Noticed her leaving the house just before dawn with a basket of hanging wash. He was in the yard walking a visitor's horse."
    "You were entertaining visitors this morning, Mr. Dawes?" The man startled at the sound of the detective's voice, though Fielding was certain this time his tone had been as pleasant as Maria's plum pudding.
    "One only. Lord Devlin had come to address a point of business for his father. It was his stallion my footman was walking."
    "Address a point of business? Before dawn? Did you not find that odd, Mr. Dawes?"
    "Deuced inconvenient. But he intended to quit London to travel to his country estate directly