Moriarty Meets His Match: A Professor & Mrs. Moriarty Mystery (The Professor & Mrs. Moriarty Mystery Series Book 1) by Anna Castle

Author:Anna Castle [Castle, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anna Castle
Published: 2016-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The Hainstone dinner was in full swing on Friday night. They’d gotten through the fish and on to the main course. Angelina had a young barrister on her left and an old banker on her right. She wore a new dinner gown made of dark gray silk with strands of an elusive blue that brought out the gold tones in her hair and made her eyes shine like a tiger’s. She needed both strength and stealth tonight. Peg had laced her into a corset so stiff and so revealing that her breasts had been pushed almost up to her chin.

Needing to keep track of the time, she’d pinned Viola’s jeweled watch to the ruffle on her left shoulder. Every time she shifted her torso to glance at it, the barrister made a small choking sound and the banker spilled something into his lap. Fortunately, Lady Hainstone had supplied plenty of napkins.

“Are you expecting something? Or someone?” the banker asked.

“Of course not.” She trilled a girlish laugh. “My watch is new, and I’m afraid it’s a bit too much with the ruffle. Do you think it’s a bit too much?” She twisted sideways to give him a good, long look.

“Not at all.” He mopped his brow with his napkin and took a deep draught of his Lafite Bordeaux. “They’re perfect. It’s perfect. All quite, quite perfect.”

Angelina had been on pins and needles for the past fifteen minutes. She practically had to pinch herself to keep from checking the time again. It was just about ten minutes to nine. Lady Hainstone had called her guests in at ten after eight. Dinner had begun at quarter past eight. Sandy and Zeke should have climbed in through the library windows at eight thirty sharp and be well into their work by now.

She pretended to eat her braised beef, taking tiny bites. Lady Hainstone had a legendary cook; she wished she could taste the food. Laughter drifted down from the upper end of the table, where Lucy sat opposite Reginald Benton. Lucy kept her eyes on him, but his kept turning toward Angelina and her décolletage.

She had smiled at him coolly in the drawing room before dinner and then left him at Lucy’s side. She had even persuaded Lady Hainstone to assign Reginald to take Lucy in to dinner. He hadn’t liked it, but the rules of etiquette brooked no argument.

Now he glanced at his own timepiece and snapped it shut, as if he’d seen what he expected. He turned his head to say something to the lady on his left and rose, dropping his napkin in his chair, and made his way toward the hall. A man caught his sleeve as he passed and asked him something. Angelina caught the word “telegram.”

Lord save them all, he was going to the library!

She leapt up, crying, “Oh! Oh! My eye!” She bent her head, dabbing at the offending organ, and dashed from the room. She bumped into Reginald in the lobby at the foot of a winding marble staircase.

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