An Artless Demise (A Lady Darby Mystery) by Anna Lee Huber

Author:Anna Lee Huber [Huber, Anna Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-04-02T05:00:00+00:00

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George Penrose was waiting for us the following day in the same morning room we had utilized during our previous visit. He stood at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the garden. Much of the snow from the previous day had already melted in the bright sun. When he turned, I could see that his posture was stiff, his jaw tight, but he made an effort to appear pleased to see us when Hotchkins introduced us.

He bowed over my hand before turning to nod to Gage.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us so promptly upon your return, Lord Feckenham,” Gage said.

Penrose blanched. “Please don’t call me that.”

Gage appeared contrite, but I strongly suspected he’d addressed him by his murdered brother’s courtesy title on purpose. “Too soon?”

He nodded.

“My apologies. Mr. Penrose, then.”

“Please.”

He gestured toward the chairs, and we all sat while tea was offered and declined. When the door shut behind the butler, Penrose shifted forward abruptly in his seat, as if he could contain himself no longer.

“I told Mother that sending me to Silvercrest before speaking with you would only make me look guilty, but she would not be reasoned with. Said she would travel to Worcestershire herself to fetch my sisters if I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t let her do that. Not when she was evidently so overcome.”

“Your sisters returned with you?” I asked.

“Yes.” His eyes flicked back and forth between me and Gage, sensing our interest in this bit of news. “Father has decided to have my brother buried here in London rather than at Silvercrest, and Mother wanted her daughters close.”

“Forgive me,” I replied. “But then why didn’t your sisters live here with you in London? I would have thought your eldest sister would already be out.”

“My sisters have not always been in the best health, and the London air affects their lungs. They do much better in the country.” This answer sounded as if it had been recited by rote, and I had every reason to believe it had been. It was the type of response a family agreed upon ahead of time to answer any questions about the sisters’ continued absence.

“They must be bereft over the loss of their brother.”

He coughed, as if choking on his answer. “Yes, of course.”

I tilted my head, studying his gray eyes. “Are you?”

He was handsome, though not strikingly so, being possessed of an average build and soft brown hair. But he did claim a remarkably fine pair of eyes the shade of pewter, fringed with long dark lashes. These were clouded with a mixture of anxiety, defiance, and a weariness that seemed to pull down all the muscles of his face. I wondered which of these emotions would win out.

“If you are as good as the reputation that precedes you,” he began, “then I suspect you already know the answer to that.” He frowned at the rug, the fingers of his left hand restlessly tugging at the wooden arm of his chair.

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