A Ghastly Spectacle: A Regency Cozy (Beatrice Hyde-Clare Mysteries Book 8) by Lynn Messina

Author:Lynn Messina [Messina, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Potatoworks Press
Published: 2021-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Although Bea had not said a word, Bredbury reprimanded her for abusing his poor niece so terribly.

“She has clearly been made distraught by this evening’s ghastly events, and your wanton disregard for her delicate sensibilities is the most appalling thing I have ever seen,” he said harshly as he lowered himself onto the settee next to Miss Petworth. “It is barbaric, your treatment. Accusing an innocent girl of murder!”

“But she did not,” Flora observed immediately. “Bea did not accuse Miss Petworth of anything.”

Lady Bentham overcame her churlishness to agree with her recent adversary. “Miss Hyde-Clare is correct. No accusation has been lodged against your niece, and yet she has issued a passionate denial. It is most curious.”

Mrs. Fawcett begged to disagree. “Rather, it is most enlightening. I believe we may take her outburst as a confession. Miss Petworth, for reasons known only to herself, killed Pudsey. How horrifying. I feel as though I am about to faint again. Lady Abercrombie, please do have one of your servants fetch the smelling salts.”

Bredbury’s cheeks flushed red with fury as he turned his ire on the society matron. “Are you entirely without wits, madam? Are you even aware of what you are saying? Look at my darling girl. I said, look at her! How could she stab a man a good head taller than she to death? It is physically impossible. Pudsey would have taken the scissors from her grasp as easily as taking a doll from a baby. She would be more likely to hurt herself than him,” he said, struggling to contain his anger as he announced to Lady Abercrombie that he could not remain a minute longer. “I fear this event has done irreparable harm to my dear niece. She will never be able to look at a gold and jade dragon ever again without shuddering.”

Bea thought few people were capable of looking at a gold and jade dragon without suffering some sort of physical reaction, but that was neither here nor there.

No, the only thing that mattered was Miss Petworth’s nerves, which appeared to settle more with every angry word her uncle spewed. The tears continued to pour down her cheeks, but she managed to straighten her spine and return her hands to her lap. They were unclasped, an indication, Bea thought, that the other woman truly had herself under control.

When it seemed as though the Incomparable would refrain from hurling her torso against the cushion again, Bea said quietly, “Miss Petworth, I hope you will consent to join me in the study so that we may speak privately.”

The girl’s refusal—a firm no undermined by a weeping-induced hiccup—was repeated a second time. “No, your grace, you made the accusation publicly so I will earn my exoneration publicly.”

“But she did not,” Flora said again.

Miss Petworth continued as if Flora had not spoken, her tone even despite her anxiety. “I did not do it, your grace. That is, I did not stab Pudsey to death. That was never my intention. That is to say, my intention was never to cause him lasting harm.

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