For Deader or Worse
Page 22
He bent to kiss her papery white cheek. “Believe me, ma’am, I considered it a privilege to do so.” He turned to the squire. “I hope you won’t hold it against me, sir.”
“Nonsense!” Sir Thaddeus pounded him heartily on the back. “I only wish I’d known—but I suppose that’s all water under the bridge. Welcome to the family, son.”
Pickett was next in line. “Well, Mr. Pickett—look here, may I call you John? After all, we are brothers-in-law—” Receiving an affirmative nod, Jamie continued. “I hope there are no hard feelings.”
“None at all,” Pickett assured him, shaking the Major’s free hand.
“You’ve got a good man there, Julia,” Jamie said, stooping to kiss his sister-in-law. “I’m not sure you could have found a better.”
“Nor am I,” Julia said with a smile. “Claudia, I wish I might stay and become better acquainted with my niece, but John has been too long away from Bow Street already. You will make Jamie bring you to London, won’t you? We can take little Caroline to Astley’s Amphitheatre, and the Royal Menagerie, and—oh, everywhere!”
Claudia, who had been following her husband down the line embracing each member of her family in turn, promised to do so, and the two sisters bade each other a fond (if tearful) farewell. And then the newlyweds were gone, and the other newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. John Pickett, turned to one another.
“I suppose we’d best be on our way if we want to make Reading before dark,” Julia told her husband.
“Yes, and before the driver is as drunk as a wheelbarrow,” Pickett agreed.
He was quite right in this assessment. The post chaise they’d sent for earlier that morning had arrived, and its driver was now cooling his heels downstairs in the servants’ quarters, where the household staff was having its own celebration unhindered by Lady Runyon’s notions of propriety.
“Mr. Pickett, I fear I owe you an apology,” said his mother-in-law, offering her hand. “Little as I may like the match, at least you married our Julia in all honor.”
Blushing at this unexpected praise, Pickett took her hand. Ironically, now that he had won some measure of approval from his wife’s mother, he found he could not accept it, not at the expense of another man. He shook his head. “Ma’am, I don’t think you could find a more honorable man than Jamie Pennington, or one more completely devoted to your daughter.” He glanced down at Julia, and grinned sheepishly. “Your elder daughter, that is.”
“Well, Mr. Pickett, I stand in your debt.” Sir Thaddeus took his hand and pumped it heartily. “First you saved our Julia from the gallows, and now you’ve given us Claudia back.”
Pickett shook his head. “Jamie deserves the credit for that, not I.”
“Still, if you hadn’t fixed Buckleigh as Tom’s killer, his lordship would still be alive and well, and Claudia still in hiding.”
The foursome strolled out onto the front portico, where the post chaise stood with their bags strapped to the boot. After a final round of goodbyes, Pickett would have handed Julia up into the vehicle, but Sir Thaddeus stopped him.
“One moment.” The squire stepped forward and withdrew a folded rectangle of paper from the pocket of his coat. “I know you fellows work on commission, so here’s a little something for you.”
Pickett shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t accept this.”
“Why the devil not?” demanded Sir Thaddeus, scowling fiercely.
“Because—” Pickett broke off with a shrug. “I hope you will pardon the presumption, sir, but because you’re family.”
Sir Thaddeus was silent for a long moment, during which the frown lines on his brow cleared, and he regarded his low-born son-in-law with something akin to approval. “Well said, Mr. Pickett.” He glanced toward Julia, waiting beside the post chaise. “Take care of my little girl.”
“I intend to,” Pickett promised.
The squire nodded, satisfied. Pickett handed Julia up into the post chaise, and the driver raised the step and closed the door. A minute later, they were heading down the long drive toward the road that would take them back to London.
Alone with her husband, Julia let out a long breath and turned to regard Pickett with eyes shining. “I must say, it was not the wedding trip I had expected, but I thought it went rather well, all things considered.”
He said nothing, but yawned widely. Before they had left the wedding breakfast, she had reminded him of the effect on his injury of being bounced over bad roads, and insisted on dosing him with laudanum for the journey. It was beginning to take effect. She saw that yawn, and slid to the end of the seat so that he might lie down with his head on her lap.
“Still,” she continued, “it will be good to return to London, will it not?”
To this he readily agreed, recalling fondly those nights spent in his Drury Lane flat with no in-laws to impress or ghostly interruptions to investigate.
“It seems an age since I have resided in Curzon Street.” She stroked his brown curls with loving fingers. “I confess, I have long been impatient to get you under my own roof.”
Curzon Street. Not his flat, but her town house, complete with servants and all the trappings that four hundred pounds per annum—her four hundred pounds per annum—could buy. “My lady—Julia—” he said pensively, holding his eyes open with an effort, “—we were happy in Drury Lane, were we not?”
“Mmm, blissfully so.” Her lips curved in a satisfied smile at the memory. “Still, I am ready to return to real life, aren’t you?”
That is my real life, he thought, but before he could put voice to the words, the laudanum took hold, and he fell asleep in his lady’s arms as the carriage bowled eastward, toward London and the new life that awaited them there.
[But wait! There’s more!
The next book in the series, Mystery Loves Company, is scheduled for January 2018. In it, Mr. and Mrs. John Pickett are back in London, where they’re forced to confront the realities of their unequal marriage. Will their love be strong enough to survive? (Oh, and there will also be a mystery to be solved.)
In the meantime, you can get a sneak peek at their homecoming in the short story (yes, another one!) “Finders Weepers,” available for free download. Here’s the link: http://dl.bookfunnel.com/6xx43qg1v7]
THE JOHN PICKETT MYSTERIES
PICKPOCKET’S APPRENTICE
(A John Pickett novella)
IN MILADY’S CHAMBER
A DEAD BORE
FAMILY PLOT
DINNER MOST DEADLY
WAITING GAME
(Another John Pickett novella)
TOO HOT TO HANDEL
FOR DEADER OR WORSE
© 2016 by Sheri Cobb South. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
About the Author
At the age of sixteen, Sheri Cobb South discovered Georgette Heyer, and came to the startling realization that she had been born into the wrong century. Although she probably would have been a chambermaid had she actually lived in Regency England, that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about waltzing the night away in the arms of a handsome, wealthy, and titled gentleman.
Since Georgette Heyer died in 1974 and could not write any more Regencies, Ms. South came to the conclusion she would simply have to do it herself. In addition to her popular series of Regency mysteries featuring idealistic young Bow Street Runner John Pickett (described by All About Romance as “a little young, but wholly delectable”), she is the award-winning author of several Regency romances, including the critically acclaimed The Weaver Takes a Wife.
A native and long-time resident of Alabama, Ms. South recently moved to Loveland, Colorado.
She loves to hear from readers, and invites them to visit her website, www.shericobbsouth.com, “Like” her author page at www.facebook.com/SheriCobbSouth, or email her at Cobbsouth@aol.com.
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Sheri Cobb South, For Deader or Worse