Page 70 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
Charlotte reared back as if she’d been slapped. “A child?”
“Yes, those little people who have a nasty habit of appearing about nine months after a couple spend time together doing what we did last night.”
She sighed. “I am well aware of that. But I was married to Gabriel, and never conceived. And,” she added, “you took precautions.”
“You were certainly not married long enough to consider yourself barren, and yes, even though I withdrew, that method is not foolproof. Many children have made an appearance aftercoitus interruptus.”
Proposing marriage had seemed the gentlemanly thing to do when he’d suggested it this morning, but now after careful consideration, he truly did want to marry her. “So, we are at a stalemate. Should I assume from your comments that you are rejecting my offer of marriage?”
She turned from his regard and chewed her lip. “Marriage is a big step.” She picked up her teacup and sipped. “What are your plans as far as Mr. Talbot is concerned? Shouldn’t we be discussing that? I am quite anxious to put this all behind me.”
It was apparent she was not going to give him an answer right away, but she hadn’t flat out rejected him, either. He would bide his time and concentrate on clearing up the Talbot matter before he pushed her. But now that his mind was made up, push her he would. Tenacity had always been one of his strong points.
“I will visit with the man tomorrow. I’m not exactly sure just yet how I will approach him. Sometimes the correct procedure is for one to see what a suspect has to say for himself before one makes accusations.”
“I would like to go with you.”
“No. Absolutely not.” That was not something on which he needed to think about.
“Why not? If he has betrayed my friendship in this manner, I want to be there to see him admit it.”
“Sweetheart, have you forgotten this man arranged for me to be beat up, and then shot? He is much too dangerous. You will stay right here, and I will report back to you the minute I am through with him.”
* * *
The next morning,Elliot signed the final piece of correspondence Mr. Gleason had sent over and laid down his pen. With his thumb and index finger, he rubbed his eyes, forming in his mind how he intended to begin the conversation with Talbot.
Given the injuries he’d already received from the man’s henchman, he pulled open the middle drawer in his desk and removed his pistol. Thank goodness his injury had been on his left side. Although he’d removed the sling, his arm and hand were still a bit sore and stiff. Assured that the gun was loaded, he tucked it into the side pocket of his jacket.
He double checked the direction Charlotte had given him, which she’d copied from her invitation list. Just as he rose to leave, Charlotte entered the library.
“Are you ready to go, then?”
“Yes.”
She gripped her middle and looked out the window. “I wish you would bring someone from Scotland Yard with you.”
He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leaned into his warmth. “Please remember I am a trained officer of the law, and I am carrying my gun.”
She turned in his arms and viewed him with frightened eyes.
“I will be fine. Soon this will all be over, and you can go back to your peaceful life.”
“He is dangerous. You’ve said so yourself.” She leaned back and searched his face. “And, based on what he’s been doing to me, he is not mentally balanced.”
Elliot tapped the edge of her pert nose. “Heis not dangerous. He hired someone who is dangerous. I am willing to wager Talbot does not expect me to show up at his house. The cretin he hired will not be there to act as his henchman.”
Did all this worry stem from feelings she had for him? Feelings that he might use in the future to get her to marry him? Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. “I must go.”
They walked together to the door, where she offered him a stiff good-bye. He handed Thomas the letters with instructions to see them posted, then turned to Charlotte. Although Thomas stood only a few feet from them, he pulled Charlotte into his arms, and kissed her with all the longing he felt.
The weather outside was cold, a blustery wind kicking up dust as he left the omnibus and headed to Talbot’s townhouse. As he approached the front door of the direction written on the paper, a servant stood on the steps, draping the door with a length of black fabric.
After double checking to make sure he had the correct address, Elliot bounded up the steps. “Has there been a death?”
The servant turned, his face pale. “Yes, sir. Mr. Talbot has left this earth for his final reward.”
