Maggie Takes a Fall by Kasey Michaels

Author:Kasey Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: funny cozy mysteries, cozy mysteries women sleuth, female mystery authors, funny mystery romance in kindle, funny paranormal romance mystery, funny romance mystery, humorous cozy murder mystery series
Publisher: Kasey Michaels

Chapter Sixteen

Ocean City was a pleasant metropolis, if rather thin of company in the winter months, but it didn’t hold a patch on Brighton, where Saint Just had often been a guest of the Prince Regent during the Season.

The prince’s Pavilion, of course, had been an architectural marvel. Why, his royal majesty’s horseflesh had been housed better than most of his majesty’s subjects, their stalls lit by the huge crystal chandeliers that hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling.

And the food? Ah, say what you will about the spendthrift heir to the throne, the man most certainly knew how to entertain. Course after course, delicacy after delicacy. Poor Sterling, he ate with his eyes, often allowing much more to be piled on his plate than he could possibly consume comfortably. But, if it was on the fine china plate, it must be eaten, unless he wished to insult his host, and Sterling had always preserved, even if he had to take to their rented townhouse for the entirety of the next day, existing on nothing more than watered wine and bits of toast.

Of course, none of it was real, not to Saint Just, because the Viscount Saint Just was not real. The Pavilion? Yes, that had been real, was still real. The Prince Regent had been real, or as real as historical research could make him. It had been Maggie, however, who had given poor Sterling his uncomfortable post-banquet bouts of dyspepsia.

Maggie had taken her creations, Sterling and himself, and paged through her research books as she recreated the Pavilion and the Prince and all the others.

It was still difficult, from time to time, to wrap his brains around all of it—what had been real, what he had only lived, experienced, courtesy of Maggie’s imagination. They’d have to travel to Brighton one day, tour the Pavilion, and he could then see for himself how correct Maggie’s descriptions had been.

Or perhaps not. He had memories of the prince’s Carleton House, too, but that had been ripped down (before its inferior construction caused it to fall down), not too many years after the Regency had ended. So depressing.

Still, he was here, and not in Regency England, and he should enjoy this seaside resort for what it was.

He’d come up onto the Boardwalk to reconnoiter, as it were, the Eighth Street Music Pier, where Mr. Novack had first suggested they meet tomorrow night. The assignation might have ended in being cancelled, but it was always best to be prepared for any eventuality.

The pier jutted out toward the shoreline, but didn’t quite reach it, unless a higher tide might push water against the large pilings upon which it had been built. A cursory inspection, however, was all Saint Just needed to ascertain that there would be precious little space for Novack or anyone else to hide, as three sides of the Pavilion were fenced off, unavailable to the public.

There was only in the area to the right of the structure, lined with wooden benches, where

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