A Study in Scandal (Ladies' Amateur Sleuth Society Book 1)

by Robyn DeHart

  “Perhaps we can discuss the next steps in the case. Say, three o’clock tomorrow? Shall I come back here, or will you make a call to the house?”

  She was rather dizzying. He knew he was behaving rudely, but there was no reason to encourage her attentions. So before he could further analyze his actions, he said, “I shall come by your house. Good day to you, Miss Watersfield. I trust you can see yourself out.”

  Rest assured it would not happen again?

  How disappointing. Amelia slumped against the carriage seat. That had been the kiss of her life. She knew taking the initiative was beyond brazen behavior. She’d wager even Charlotte had never been so bold.

  But Amelia simply couldn’t help herself. He’d gotten so excited when he spoke about his research. And his mouth was provocative—with lips so perfect, it was as if Michelangelo’s own hands had chiseled them.

  He’d enjoyed kissing her, too. Nobody could kiss someone with such heat and passion and not feel something. How could he assure her it would not happen again? Would he push her away if she tried it again?

  Perhaps she’d have to test that hypothesis as well.

  Chapter Five

  “I should prefer that you do not mention my name at all in connection with the case, as I choose to be only associated with those crimes which present some difficulty in their solution.” ~The Adventure of the Cardboard Box

  They had barely settled into the meeting when Willow sat on the edge of her chair.

  She held the Times in her right hand. “The Jack of Hearts has struck again. This time at the Scofield Palace Library at the release of a new collection,” she said.

  “Awfully bold of him, wouldn’t you say? Positively gives me the shivers,” Charlotte offered with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “The good sort or the bad sort?” Meg asked.

  Charlotte smiled. “Definitely the good sort.”

  “Naturally you would find criminal behavior attractive. Honestly, Charlotte, can you not settle for a regular gentleman?” Willow said.

  “No, I cannot. They are too boring. You, my dear, Willow, may settle for all the regular gentlemen you like,” Charlotte said. “For myself, I shall wait for someone a little more interesting.”

  “You mean scandalous,” Willow said.

  Charlotte shrugged.

  “Amelia? Are you going to allow these two to continue their bickering?” Meg asked.

  Amelia suddenly realized there were three pairs of eyes staring expectantly at her. She’d heard their discussion, vaguely knew what had been said, but her mind was elsewhere. On a particular inspector and his tantalizing kiss that had left her with a permanent case of gooseflesh.

  She smiled at her friends. “Many apologies. I’m afraid I’m a bit preoccupied today.”

  “Where, might we ask, is that mind of yours?” Meg inquired.

  Should she tell them? Could she share her passionate kiss with her dearest friends?

  Without saying a word, she instinctively knew what each of their reactions would be. Charlotte would applaud her boldness, Meg would find the entire situation romantic, and Willow would be undeniably disappointed.

  Willow would purse her lips and shake her head and, without meaning to, effectively snatch all the excitement and joy right out of Amelia’s hands. Oh, she wouldn’t mean it in a nasty way, but Willow was nothing if not proper. Decorum was vastly important to her and she held her friends up to a standard none of them could reach. Amelia knew it was done out of love and concern.

  Willow had realized when they were only young girls that Amelia, Charlotte, and Meg were not as concerned with propriety and their reputations as proper ladies should be. Ever since, she’d taken it upon herself to be concerned for them. It was tasking at times, but Amelia knew Willow’s heart was in the right place.

  But knowing this about Willow, Amelia knew she couldn’t tell her about the kiss. Not now, at least.

  “I apologize,” Amelia said. “I’m concerned for Papa. Now, what were you saying?”

  Willow cleared her throat. “I was attempting to persuade Charlotte that the Jack of Heart’s flagrant disregard of the law and people’s safety should not be considered appealing. Nor anyother such reckless behavior,” Willow said. “He’s nothing more than a miscreant.”

  “Indeed,” Charlotte said. “Lawbreaking is wrong, I will concede to that.”

  “I see,” Amelia said.

  “You see which? Are you agreeing with myself or with Charlotte?” Willow asked.

  “Neither, actually, since I missed the majority of the conversation. And I’m most upset that I missed any discussion regarding the Jack of Hearts. Do we have more information? Did he strike again?”

  “Yes,” Willow said. “It is a most worrisome situation. Soon we will not be able to leave our homes.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Willow, this is a gentleman’s thief. He has never once harmed anyone. All of the people he has robbed have said he was most courteous and mannerly.”

  “Interesting,” Amelia said. “That’s splendid detecting work, Charlotte. With that sort of information, it would be a simple leap to assume he was a gentleman or at least educated to some degree in polite society.” Amelia clapped her hands. “A thief among us. That is most exciting.”

  “All of you are mad,” Willow said.

  Amelia bumped her shoulder against Willow’s. “But you love us despite our madness.”

  Willow didn’t budge.

  Amelia bumped her again. “Admit it, Willow.”

  Charlotte and Meg came and squeezed themselves onto the settee so they all sat crowded together in a blur of blue, green, and yellow muslin.

  Willow fought a smile, but lost. “Very well, I shall admit it. But I shall not be responsible when the three of you get yourselves into all manner of trouble.”

  “And we do not expect you to,” Meg said.

  “If you desperately need to be responsible for someone, you could borrow Frances. The two of you are actually quite similar,” Charlotte said.

  “Frances? Since when does she prefer to be called that?” Amelia asked.

  “Ah, since my little sister turned the ripe old age of eighteen. She decided Fanny was too immature a name. Now that she is a mature lady, she would like to go by a more adult name.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” Willow added.

  “Shall we start calling you Wilhelmina, then?” Charlotte asked.

  “I should think not. Only my grandmother and aunts call me that. To everyone else I am Willow.” She frowned. “Does it make me sound immature?”

  Meg laughed. “Nothing about you is immature. You are like a mother to us all.”

  “Or a brigadier,” Charlotte said with a smile.

  “All of you are simply impossible,” Willow said. “Speaking of the impossible and siblings, my dear brother, Edmund, instructed me to wish you a good day, Charlotte.”

  All eyes turned to Charlotte and the pink in her cheeks heightened. Edmund had fancied her for years, and everyone knew it. They’d all grown up together. Charlotte, however, did not return his feelings. Edmund was a likable fellow. But as a suitor he simply wouldn’t do. Not for Charlotte.

  “Please extend to him the same courtesy,” Charlotte bit out.

  Amelia suspected Charlotte fancied Edmund more than she admitted, perhaps more than she realized, but refused to entertain the feelings because he was not adventuresome enough for her. Edmund, like his sister Willow, was an upstanding person of high moral standards who never so much as glanced at the line of impropriety. Edmund offered security where Charlotte craved adventure and passion.

  Amelia, at present, understood Charlotte as she never had before. She too craved adventure and passion. And she had already set sights on the man with whom she’d like to share it.

  She still could not get that kiss out of her mind. The way he tasted and felt. The heated look within his eyes and the restrained way in which he’d stepped away from her. He’d felt it
too. There was something between them. Something too powerful to ignore or deny.

  “Back to the Jack of Hearts,” Meg said. “Does anyone have any ideas of how we can gather more information?”

  “I’ve given this a bit of thought and I’ve only come up with one idea, but I think it’s far too reckless,” Willow said. “I think I’ve come up with a solution, though, to keep us all safe.”

  Charlotte leaned forward in interest. “Oh, do tell, Willow. You never think of anything reckless.”

  “That’s simply not true,” Willow said smugly. “I think of reckless things quite often, but I rarely entertain them as actual possibilities and almost never follow through with any of them.”

  “You have been concealing a wicked mind from us?” Meg asked.

  Willow shrugged. “I see no reason to encourage the lot of you to get into any more trouble.”

  “Tell us,” Charlotte said. She very nearly jumped from her seat, so eager was she.

  “Very well,” Willow said. “But I am only telling you this because I feel strongly that this criminal should be caught and brought to justice.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Charlotte said. “Now tell us everything.”

  Amelia was feeling the excitement as well. She’d always known Willow was clever, but she hadn’t realized she had an impulsive streak.

  “It seems to me,” Willow said, “that we are in a perfect position to catch the thief. So far he has accosted ladies in our circle at events we frequent. I am rather surprised we have not yet run into him.”

  “Oh, I know what you’re going to suggest,” Meg said.

  “Shhh ... let her finish,” Amelia said.

  Meg sat back with a smile. “You’re brilliant, Willow, simply brilliant.”

  “Thank you. Now, as I was saying, it seems odd that we have not yet crossed his path. But we could. Amelia and Meg have the appropriate bait, so to speak. All we have to do is make it visible.”

  “Bait?” Amelia asked.

  “Jewelry. What Charlotte and I own wouldn’t tempt him. But the baubles you two have would. We need only to start wearing them out more. Make them more visible. Present an opportunity,” Willow said.

  Charlotte smiled. “What a devious little mind you have. You’ve had such delicious ideas before?”

  Willow tilted her head. “On occasion.”

  “Sneaky of you to keep that side of yourself from us. We could make all sorts of trouble with you,” Charlotte said.

  “Yes! That’s what I was afraid of. ‘Tis why I keep such ideas to myself. But in this case, it might be worth the risk,” Willow said.

  “When can we get started?” Meg asked.

  “Tomorrow evening,” Willow said. “I have tickets to the theater, but I will need something to wear.”

  “You can wear my emerald earrings,” Meg offered.

  “Perfect,” Willow said.

  “Why you?” Charlotte asked.

  “Because I will turn him in if he steals from me. Not run away with him,” Willow said. “But you can come along if you promise to behave.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Me too?” Meg asked.

  “Yes. Amelia, what about you?” Willow asked.

  “No. Thank you, though. I’d love to, honestly, but I think I should probably stay with Papa. I’ve left him alone the last few days. But do have fun without me.” She smiled. “Well, not too much fun.”

  Amelia sat and watched as her friends finalized the plans for the following evening. Admittedly she was a little envious, but that could not be helped.

  Her father needed her right now. Needed her to be by his side working to find Nefertiti. Until then, her friends would have to chase the Jack of Hearts without her.

  Colin had arrived precisely at three and his annoyance level was reaching a heightened stage. Still, he sat, waiting for Miss Watersfield in her blue parlor. Current time: twelve after three. Literally everything in the room was blue—blue carpet, blue wallpaper, blue furniture; they had even painted the ornate mantel above the fireplace blue. Why would someone do that sort of thing? He glanced at his pocket watch again—thirteen after three.

  This was quite rude. Did she not realize that he had other things to do with his time? Suppose he had another patron or another case to tend to? The fact that he had no other patrons or cases or even a glimmer of hope for either was not relevant. Tardiness was the equivalence of inconsideration.

  Colin was on the verge of mentally listing the virtues of promptness when Miss Watersfield bustled into the room.

  “Good day to you, Inspector Brindley.”

  He stood. “Good day, Miss Watersfield.”

  She looked breathtaking in a simple gown the color of melted butter. It was a refreshing color against the sea of blue. The faint scent of strawberries drifted toward him, tantalizing him.

  She was a paradox. Sweet and friendly and a pinnacle of purity—he was certain. Yet the memory of her fiery kiss still burned his lips and sent blood to his groin. Solving this case would have to be a priority, else the time spent with her would drive him to Bedlam.

  “You wanted to discuss the investigation plan,” he said. “Do you simply want me to give you my strategy, step by step?”

  She seemed slightly taken aback by his question. “I would love your step-by-step strategy. But I do believe I have more pressing news. I received this note only an hour ago.” She handed him the envelope. “I would have been downstairs sooner with it, but I was in with my father. He’s having a rough day.”

  Colin nodded and felt an utter heel, that he’d been so annoyed before. Granted, he thought her father was overreacting to the loss of his trinket, but Amelia was tending to him and Colin couldn’t argue with that.

  The note was from Mr. Flinders and the shop owner had requested a meeting to share new information with her. The same antiquities dealer who had once before shared information with her, all the while ignoring Colin’s request. How was that possible?

  “Have you sent him a response?” Colin asked.

  “Yes. I told him I would come to his shop first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “I shall accompany you.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said.

  “Yes, it shall.” He hadn’t wanted to do this, but saw no other way around it. Nothing he said or did at this point would prevent her from “working” on the case. Her desire to be a part of the investigation was evidently an essential piece of her fantasy. Perhaps in her mind assisting in solving the case would be as if she were living out her own Sherlock story.

  Colin supposed he played Sherlock in that scenario. It was a blow to his pride. Surely he was more clever than the fictional detective, but he would endure this charade to earn his retainer.

  Besides, it was far better to have her at his side where he could keep an eye on her activities and ensure she did not sabotage his efforts. And this new development made his decision all the more clear. For some reason Mr. Flinders was willing to speak with her, so if that was how Colin must question the man, then so be it.

  “I have carefully considered your offer and have decided to accept your assistance in this investigation,” he said.

  Her eyes widened, and she gifted him with a brilliant smile that seemed to reach right in and squeeze his heart. “Oh, that is splendid news indeed. You shall not regret this, Inspector. I will make certain of it.”

  “Yes, well, there is one condition.”

  “Very well,” she said cautiously.

  “You must understand that this is my investigation. You are my assistant, and you are there strictly to observe. I shall do all the interrogation and interviewing. Then you may offer your opinion on matters when we are reviewing our notes.”

  She thought for a moment, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “I suppose that is a fair condition. After all, you are the inspector. Is it safe to assume that you will share all of your information with me henceforth? I cannot very well offer you a legitimate opinion wit
hout being privy to all of the details of the case.”

  His first instinct was to deprive her of such information. She was to be a true assistant, not an equal partner. But what was the harm? He admitted he needed her to assist him in collecting information from the people who, for reasons he did not understand, would not divulge it to him alone. Besides, it was not as if she were actually skilled in solving cases, so being privy to the knowledge would provide her no real benefit.

  He nodded. “Very well. I shall comply with your request, but you must remember that everyone is a potential suspect, and therefore you are not to discuss the details of this case with anyone.”

  “What about my fellow sleuths?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I am a founding member of the Ladies’ Amateur Sleuth Society. We meet at least once a week to discuss cases, and this is precisely the sort of topic that would interest us all. They are already aware that Nefertiti is missing and that you are working on the case.”

  An amateur sleuth society? For ladies? Had he heard her correctly? “Ladies’ Amateur Sleuth Society, did you say?”

  She nodded brightly.

  “Indeed. How large is this group?”

  “There are only four of us. Meg, she’s the creative one; she’s always devising a new plan. Willow, she’s the clever one; she’s always one step ahead of the rest of us. And then there’s Charlotte. She’s the beautiful one; she’s always winning men’s hearts wherever she goes.” She ticked each name off with her finger. “That’s all of us.”

  “What about you?” he asked. “Which one are you?”

  “I’m simply me.” She shrugged.

  Simply Amelia. That hardly began to describe her. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Unlike any person he’d ever known. He found himself eagerly waiting for the next words that would spring from her mouth, as he was never quite certain what she would say. Or do, for that matter.

  “I daresay even you would think Willow was brilliant, sir.”

  He suppressed a smile. Four bored ladies who fancied themselves sleuths. He doubted he’d think any of them brilliant. Not that he considered the present company lacking in intelligence. But she certainly had a unique perspective on the world and on herself.