Chapter Fifteen #2
What was this, then? As hot annoyance rose in Felix’s chest, he poked Andrew in the sternum with the head of his cane.
“Oh, I’m aware of that. However, I’m only telling you that because the last time you were at the hell, you created an incident wherein Mr. Emmett felt the need to call his security detail.
” He narrowed his gaze as he dropped the cane into his hand.
“I would, instead, practice self-control until you can gain dominion over your emotions, else the next time, the owner of the gaming hell might choose to toss you into Newgate instead. And that won’t do the future Viscount of Beckham any favors in society. ”
While a muscle in Andrew’s cheek ticced, Felix escorted Caroline from the room.
“You cocked that up, didn’t you, boy?” The retort from Caroline’s aunt drifted to his ears.
Once they were back in the carriage, she rested her gaze on him. “A pissing match with my brother in front of my aunt?”
The vehicle lurched into motion after Felix gave the driver the address of the midwife’s clinic. Only then did he grin at her from across the narrow aisle.
“Well, I’m certainly not going to let your brother and eventually your father intimidate me.
” He took her hand and held it. “Asking you to marry me was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. I’ll be damned if anyone tries to take you away from me—including your family.
” The resolution was evident in his voice even to his own ears.
In the dim illumination from the rapidly setting sun in overcast skies, shock mixed through her expression, but her smile lit him up from the inside out. “Thank you.”
He grunted. “Is that all you’ll say?”
“Isn’t it enough?”
“It is.” And that was another reason he adored her. They didn’t need to have long, drawn-out conversations to further their points. “But thank you for your defense of me in front of your brother. It wasn’t necessary.”
“No, it wasn’t, but I needed to say it anyway.” She shrugged. “Besides, Andrew can be an arse at times. Perhaps my parents can now turn their bullying onto him and find him a wife.”
“Hope springs eternal.”
It took little time to reach the line of rowhouses where the midwife rented rooms for her clinic off Down Street in Piccadilly.
Not a rich area of Mayfair but not a rundown spot either, it was a relatively quiet section of Town.
With snow in the offing, Felix wished to have the visit over more sooner than later, for the damned cold was playing havoc on his person…
his left thigh especially where the prosthetic met with the stump of his missing leg.
“With luck, we’ll return in a half hour,” he told Daniel as he assisted Caroline out of the vehicle.
“I want a cup of tea, preferably laced with brandy or rum, and a fire.” Then he snorted.
“Or better yet, remove the tea and give me a nice steak and some creamed potatoes.” He didn’t know what Lady Kearney had on the menu for dinner tonight, but he couldn’t wait to tuck into a nice plateful.
“In that, I agree with you, Major.” Daniel gave him a nod. “Snow is sure to fall, and soon. It’s time to be with our loved ones.”
“That it is.” And damn if he didn’t want to spend the night in bed with Caroline, doing wicked, scandalous things to her.
After this case was over, he intended to do just that.
With his free hand to the small of her back, Felix guided her toward the pavement.
“Mind that patch just there. It looks icy.”
“Careful, Major. Too much of that solicitous charm and concern will have the ladies chasing you through London.” She leaned into him and lowered her voice. “And then I will be terribly jealous because I’m the only one you should take care of like that.”
A shiver of need twisted down his spine to lodge in his stones. “Too much more of that, Miss Ives, and you’ll find yourself in a very compromising position against the nearest wall.”
“Ah, promises of an ardent fiancé.” Seconds later, she entered the building, and since there were other people moving through the corridor and up the stairs, there was no opportunity for him to utter a cheeky reply.
In short order, they found the correct door, and after a forceful knock, that wooden panel was swung open. A maid stood in the frame, blinking at them as she wiped her hands on her pinafore-style apron. “May I help you?”
“Yes.” Caroline nodded. “We are here to see Mrs. Carson.”
“Who is calling?”
“I’m Miss Ives and this is Major Kourier. We’re consulting on a Bow Street case regarding the murder of Lord Withington.”
He was impressed at how she announced them. All the same, he gave the petite maid a calling card. “Also, time is of the essence.”
The maid nodded. “Please come in and wait in the front room. Mrs. Carson is finishing with a patient, but it won’t be long.” She gestured toward a grouping of furniture in the small space that no doubt served as a waiting area or a parlor, depending on what the midwife needed it for.
“Thank you.” Caroline sat in one of the chairs whose upholstery was a bit on the worn and faded side. The maid vanished into another room and firmly closed the door behind her. “Will you sit, or do you mean to stand there like a grouchy bat of vengeance, scowling at anyone who comes near?”
His lips twitched. “My leg is paining me just now, so I’d rather stand.”
“Fair enough.” When she removed her notebook from her reticule along with the pencil. “After this, we should talk a bit about our suspect list. If we set aside time, I’m sure we can either find a pattern or a clue.”
“Agreed.”
Then the door opened, and a short, stout woman entered the waiting area. Her drab dress of gray wool was covered with a crisp, ivory apron while a mobcap sat perched over her graying dark hair.
“I’m Mrs. Carson. My maid told me you wished to ask me a few questions?” She bounced her gaze between him and Caroline. “About Lord Withington?”
“Indeed.” Felix glanced at Caroline. “Go ahead and lead.”
She nodded. “Thank you.” Opening to a fresh page of the notebook, she looked at the older woman. “Are you the midwife tending to Lady Withington’s pregnancy?”
“I am.” Mrs. Carson frowned. “Is there something amiss with her?”
“Not that we know of. We talked with her earlier today. She indicated she was having a few pains but didn’t wish us to have you summoned.”
“Yet you are here anyway. From my experience, Lydia could indeed be set to deliver any day, especially after the shock she has been through this week. Estimations on how far along a woman is with pregnancy are just that—guesses.”
Caroline nodded. “I’m concerned for her all the same.”
“I’ll check in on her.” The woman crossed her arms at her chest. “Just ask your questions. We all know what sort of man Lord Withington was.” After a huff, she asked, “Do you want to know if I killed him?”
Surprise went through Felix’s chest. “Did you? From how the stab wounds in his gut appeared, someone would have had knowledge of human anatomy to ensure that much damage.”
An expression of distaste went over Mrs. Carson’s face.
“That’s horrible.” She rubbed her hands over her face before staring at him.
“When Lydia told me about her husband, I was sufficiently shocked. And in the event you wondered, I was with one of my patients, overseeing her labor. Five hours after the peer was killed, my patient was delivered of a son.”
Well, that was disappointing. “I trust you aren’t lying, but I’ll need you to give the name and direction of your patient to Miss Ives. We might need to call on her to verify your story.” It wasn’t well done of him, but there was nothing for it. Everything was leading nowhere.
“Of course, Major.” Quite succinctly, the midwife gave Caroline the requested information. “Is there anything else? I have one more appointment after I finish my current one this evening, but after that, I will call on Lady Withington if you’d like.”
Caroline nodded. “That would be lovely. I’m genuinely concerned for her.”
“As am I,” Mrs. Carson admitted. “I honestly don’t think the shock of losing her husband has hit her yet. It doesn’t matter if there was no love lost between the pair. She spent years with him, shared a bed with him, is ready to bear his child. It will take a toll sooner or later.”
That oddly made sense. Felix cleared his throat. “What of the maid in her household who is also with child?”
The midwife frowned. Confusion lay stamped on her face. “What of her? I haven’t examined her, and she is not a patient.”
“While I understand that, I wonder if you’ve talked with her.”
“I have, only because she would literally come after me in the street after Lydia’s appointments.”
“Why?”
Mrs. Carson nodded. “She had questions about pregnancy, the process of birth, symptoms, things that could go wrong if one birthed a child early. While I understand that she is no doubt concerned for her own health, she isn’t my patient, and it isn’t my responsibility to care for her.
” She looked between Caroline and him once more.
“It sounds harsh, I know, but I have a living to get, and my services don’t come free.
” She shrugged. “Her husband is knowledgeable about animals. In fact, the maid mentioned something about him helping one of the mews’ horses foal earlier this spring. They’ll do just fine, I think.”
Caroline scribbled a few notes. “There is something odd, though, about that maid—Betsy Brown. She doesn’t strike me as a woman who is with child.”
“Why would you say that?” the midwife asked with interest in her eyes. “I’m only questioning it because I’ve felt that way too.”
“There is something in how she moves that doesn’t feel right,” Caroline continued as she made another note. “I can’t put my finger on it, and she doesn’t have that pre-maternal glow or calmness that Lady Withington possesses.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Carson nodded. “The maid does seem far too high strung. Almost panicky.”
Felix frowned. “That is how her husband was when we interviewed him.”
“They could be a typical young couple not quite ready to have a babe in their midst, and with financial worries as well,” the midwife said with a sage nod.
“It happens all the time, yet there is something just… off about that girl. Mark my words.” She glanced at a watch pinned to her shoulder.
“I must finish with my current patient. Time grows short this evening.”
Caroline rose to her feet. “Thank you for answering our questions, Mrs. Carson.”
“I hope you find Withington’s killer,” the midwife said as she moved toward the closed door to the other room.
“However, I’m not sorry the man is dead.
Sometimes, people have far too much evil or are haunted by far too many demons inside to be able to live a decent life.
His death was for the good all the way ‘round.”
On the way out of the clinic, Felix couldn’t help but worry. Was he too far gone with his own past that haunted him? Was he too rigid in how he lived his life to be able to share it with someone else?
Why can’t I move past this?