Page 32 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
Nothing wrong, indeed. More than ever she wished this entire matter over with, so she could go back to her very pleasant, uncomplicated life. A life that did not include a most unsuitable man with whom she was becoming a bit too attached. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” She headed to the door.
Once Elliot had donned his hat and coat, he turned her head to study her. “You look quite fatigued. A bath and a dinner tray are precisely what you need.”
Despite her immediate reaction to his highhanded manner, she found she hadn’t the strength to argue. “I am so very tired of this. I no longer enjoy attending events with the people I have grown close to over the year. Some of these people had been Gabriel’s friends, others I befriended myself. But since this all started, I find myself withdrawing from them, suspecting every man who smiles in my direction. On the other hand, I do not wish to become a recluse who hides behind my curtains, peeking out each time someone passes my house.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you enjoy a day out without friends? You and I will take a trip to the art museum. No suspicious friends to be wary of, no talk of flowers, packages left on the doorstep, or men who lecture you about sin and damnation.”
She was certain an excursion to the art museum was another service not normally provided by a private investigator. Nevertheless, the idea of just the two of them, with no others, greatly appealed. “That sounds wonderful. I love the museum, and I can easily become lost in the treasures there.”
“Then it is all set. I will escort you to the museum tomorrow. Be ready to depart about ten o’clock.”
Why was this man so nice? Why couldn’t he be the typical ex-inspector turned private investigator with jowls, a cigar jammed between his teeth, and a paunch? No, her private investigator was handsome, well-built, charming, and a definite threat to her sanity and well-being.
* * *
Charlotte attemptedto quell the excitement in her middle as she waited for Elliot. This trip to the museum was for fun, and she had no intention of allowing conversation about the investigation. Today, she was merely Charlotte, and he was merely Elliot, and they were going to enjoy the day.
The smile he gave her as he entered the house assured her he did not view this trip as investigation, either. He bowed as he stepped into the entrance hall. “Are you ready for a day of no worries?”
“Yes, indeed.” She turned to have Elliot help her with her pelisse. After tying the ribbons on her bonnet, they left the house.
It appeared the weather had also decided to cooperate with their sense of ease and adventure. The rare sun shone brightly in the cool, crisp air, warming her back as they descended the stairs and he helped her into her carriage.
“I’m sure this sounds silly, but I feel as carefree as a young girl.” Charlotte almost giggled as she settled in. The sun shining through the window, lighting up the green velvet interior of the coach, cheered her, as well.
Elliot grinned back. “You need this day out to forget about everything, except having fun. I thought about the Science Museum, but then I realized women do not generally view science with the same vigor as men, so that venue might not be your idea of fun.”
“Actually, I do have an interest in science. However, since this is to be a lighthearted day, I am happy we are headed to the art museum. Have you been there before?”
His demeanor sobered. “Once. But my companion was not very interested in art, so we did not stay long.”
Assuming Elliot referred to Annabelle, Charlotte changed the subject. “I, on the other hand, am very interested in art. In fact, I had at one time thought to study art, but never had the means to do so.”
Elliot’s brows rose. “Do you paint?”
She blushed. “A bit.” She could hardly call her attempts at artistic work ‘painting’, but she loved working with oils, and charcoals, as well. The hobby had helped her during her mourning period when she’d been confined to her home more than she was used to. Once her life had taken a turn toward perverse matters, she had shoved that all aside.
“Someday you will have to show me some of your work.”
Charlotte waved her hand. “Oh, it is not good enough to show.”
“I have found that an artist’s opinion of his or her work is rarely honest.”
“But mostly accurate,” she said with a light laugh. “At least in my case.”
He pushed open the door to the museum. “I shall have to see and make the judgment for myself.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in pleasant conversation and a light luncheon at a small café only a block from the museum. She discovered they enjoyed the same type of artwork, and eschewed the same type, as well.
“It appears we have a great deal in common,” Elliot said as they made their way back to the carriage later that afternoon.
“So it seems.” She took in a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you so much for this day. I really enjoyed myself, and for a little bit of time forgot…”
Elliot patted her hand resting on his arm. “I promise you I will unearth this cad and return your life to normal.”
* * *
Two daysafter the trip to the Museum, Elliot left his rooms shortly before the dinner hour with a whistle on his lips. The note that had arrived with the flowers, along with samples of Vicar Spencer and Baron Von Braun’s handwriting, were tucked away in his pocket. It had been blind luck that he’d stumbled upon Von Braun at his club the night before, not realizing he was a member. They’d sat and chatted until Elliot could think of a way to have him write something.
