Midnight on the River Grey by Abigail Wilson

Author:Abigail Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2019-07-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Mr. Galpin was awaiting me in the drawing room late in the afternoon the following day. Unaware I had a guest, I walked in without question or the convention of a chaperone.

Alone and unobserved, he’d made himself at ease, reclining against the cushioned chair with one leg propped up on the other, his callous, gray eyes trained out the bow window into the twilight beyond. He dangled a watch fob in his right hand, and his fingers pushed the golden orb back and forth like the meticulous precision of a clock. His face, though, betrayed something I’d not seen before, as if his usually calm exterior concealed something far more threatening, something he fought hard to keep at bay.

Draped in fine clothes and full of smooth words, Mr. Galpin remained a mystery. I moved to call out his name and alert him to my presence, but something held me back. I could still see Isabell giggling in his presence at the dinner party, enraptured by his every word. Why had he been hand-selected from the men of Plattsdale to be my husband? Why had he not sought her hand?

The watch fob suddenly ceased its movements, and Mr. Galpin craned his neck forward. Curiosity moved my feet silently across the rug. What was it out there in the grim afternoon haze that interested him?

Close enough to smell the lingering scent of his snuff and hear his fluted nasal breathing, I stopped and followed his gaze out the window. There, beneath the cloudy horizon, I saw nothing unusual, not on the manicured lawns or hiding amid the leafless trees of the woods. The corner folly sat empty and the garden gate was firmly shut. The fog was thick in patches, but nothing moved, not for several seconds. Perhaps Mr. Galpin was waiting for something.

A distinct chill skirted up my arms as I looked back to his eager face. All at once, I wondered if I shouldn’t wait for Aunt Jo to return from her ride with Mr. Fernside to engage Mr. Galpin.

Too late. He’d noticed me, and the smile he usually wore slipped back into place. He shot to his feet and cast a fleeting glance out the long window. “Miss Hunter, I have been waiting a time for you.” He tugged on his tight-fitting jacket. “What kind of help does Mr. Browning keep around this horrid place?”

I doubted Mr. Galpin had sent anyone to fetch me. He’d probably devised a way to catch me by accident, and I’d fallen right into his scheme.

I took a hasty step back.

Like a snake, he moved to block my path to the door. His voice dipped into that sweet tone he used on Isabell. “Please, won’t you sit with me a moment? I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

I crossed my arms. “It is rather late for visiting hours, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it is.” He angled his chin. “But not for one so well connected with the family.”

Dinnertime was nearing, and I vastly preferred to let him have his say now before he fished for an invitation to stay.

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