Chapter Eleven #2
His mother’s eyes narrowed. She could read him too well. “You know something.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I know she speaks French. But that is hardly damning. If that were the only criteria, then you would be on the suspect list as well.”
His mother pursed her lips. “Perhaps. But I haven’t been to Italy.”
He opened his mouth to make another smart comment, but paused at the memory of Selena, staring at the painting of the Venice landscape. But, again, that was nothing but coincidence. Surely.
“Another murder reportedly took place in Bucharest. I’ll admit that one may be a trifle more difficult to prove. I’m not sure I am acquainted with anyone who has been there recently.”
Edward froze. That might be a bit more than a coincidence.
The haunting music that Selena played that night still filtered through his head in his quieter moments. That haunting but playful piece. The one that had made her seem sad. Contemplative. A piece by a composer from Bucharest.
It proved nothing. Even if she had been there, even if she had married these men, it meant nothing. Men died. It was a fact of life.
Was it odd that, if it were true, she was the widow of at least three, possibly more, men who had died suddenly on their wedding days.
Yes. He could admit that much.
Did it give him pause?
Truthfully, yes. Though he hated to admit it, even to himself.
He glanced at Anthony who was watching him with a speculative look in his eyes. As if he knew everything that was running through Edward’s mind at that moment. And he probably did as he’d put half of the suspicions there with his earlier concerns.
“All I am saying, my son,” his mother said, “is that you may not know this woman you wish to wed as well as you think you do.”
“She rejected me, Mother.”
The look his mother gave him was far more perceptive than he would like.
“I know you, my son. You will not leave it at that, not if you truly care for this woman. And if you are intent on bringing her into our household, making her not just a part of this family but the future matriarch, perhaps we should look into her background before any more proposals are bandied about.”
Edward was silent a moment, his mind still spinning.
He could admit it did seem suspicious. But he wasn’t sure he cared.
If the mysterious Lady Death were even one and the same with Selena, there had to be a logical explanation.
One that didn’t involve her being a murderess.
And it wasn’t something he could exactly ask her outright, though he was tempted to do just that.
If the rumors were nothing more than that, then he could irrevocably damage their already delicate relationship. And if the rumors were true, did he really want to alert a possible murderess that he knew her secret?
Perhaps he should let his mother have her way. Even if he were to ask Selena, his mother would likely not accept her word on the matter. After all, if she were guilty, she would hardly admit it to the mother of her next intended victim.
This entire affair was nothing but nonsense. He was almost sure of it. It was that ever-so-slight possibility that it was not nonsense that had him slowly nodding.
“Very well. What exactly are you suggesting?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I have a man,” she started.
“Mother…” He dragged out the word, his tone coated with warning.
“He is very discreet,” she assured him. “I am simply proposing that we let him dig around a bit. See what turns up. I know this is distasteful to you—”
“In the extreme,” he said, fists clenched at his sides.
“And we understand that,” she said, her face full of sympathy.
“However…” His father’s voice brooked no argument.
“This matter is too important to leave it up to your whims. The fact that we are considering this union at all is a measure of our affection for you. Or our desperation to see you wed,” he added with snort.
“This woman is untitled, unknown, and under a great deal of suspicion. If you want her, you will agree to our terms. We should, by all rights, be insisting upon a nice, titled, young virgin.”
“Father!” Edward exclaimed, though it wasn’t really so shocking.
His father just raised a brow and continued on. “However, as we’ve been trying for years to get you to settle down with anyone, a less-than-youthful widow will have to do.”
“She’s not yet thirty. She hardly has one foot in the grave,” Edward retorted.
His father was already waving off his comment. “Yes, yes. As I said, she’ll do well enough. However, we do draw the line at murderers.”
Edward threw his hands up. “Oh, hell and damnation! She’s not a murderess!”
“Edward!” His mother clutched her bosom, her cheeks bright red. “Your language!”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “My apologies, Mother. But this is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous or not, if you want to marry this woman, it is happening,” his father said.
“Very well, Mother. Conduct your investigation, if you must. Discreetly,” he cautioned. “I do not want the lady’s reputation harmed more than it already has been.”
“Of course, dear. It will be handled with the height of discretion.”
Edward nodded again, avoiding Anthony’s gaze. He didn’t want to see the disapproval he knew he’d see there.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he muttered, rising to leave, though he knew it would be futile.
Anthony, of course, was right on his heels.
“Are you sure about this course of action?” Anthony asked the moment they were out of the room and away from any prying ears. “I can’t imagine Mrs. MacLaren would be best pleased discovering you are having her investigated. Assuming, of course, you wish to remain in the lady’s good graces.”
Edward scowled. “My mother is having her investigated, not I.”
“You agreed to it.”
Edward snorted. “If you believe that my mother would have listened to me for one moment had I not agreed, you do not know her very well. Her investigation has likely been underway since the ball where we first danced.”
Anthony chuckled. “You are doubtless right. Still—”
“I know,” Edward said with a sigh. “But I am hopeful it will allay my parents’ fears. And agreeing gives me at least the illusion of control of the situation.”
“Perhaps,” Anthony said with an amused grin.
“I must keep my mother happy, as well,” Edward pointed out. “Then, when I next propose—”
“When you next propose?”
Where had that come from? “If, if I propose again,” he amended.
Anthony pursed his lips and nodded slowly, watching Edward in that contemplative way of his that Edward didn’t like. At least when it was aimed his way.
“Just be careful, Lockhaven. I know I’ve been pushing you toward that church for years now. But I rather hoped it would be for a wedding. Not a funeral.”
“You are worse than my mother,” Edward scoffed. “Far too susceptible to titillating gossip.”
“Well, I can’t deny that.” Anthony’s usual jovial smile was only slightly dimmer than usual.
Edward shook his head and took his leave, inwardly cursing himself for letting slip his plans to propose again.
In fact, he hadn’t realized he had plans to propose again until he’d said it.
Then again, he hadn’t meant to propose the first time, so perhaps making no plans at all was the best plan.
He didn’t seem capable of following them in any case.
Allowing his mother to investigate Selena did not sit well with him.
But if and when he did propose again—assuming he was able to convince the lady to marry him—he wanted to be able to bring her to his family to be welcomed with open arms instead of ridiculous suspicion.
They would not take her word for it on a matter such as life and death.
He could but hope that when he told Selena, as he must certainly do eventually, she would understand.
Or at least forgive.