The Waylaid Heart Read Free

that is not relevant."
    Her aunt looked at her askance. "You must have a tin ear, my dear."
    "Jessamine! Be serious. Talkers are no good doers is the exact phrase Mr. Waddley wrote down, and that is not a phrase to come easily off of anyone's tongue."
    Jessamine sighed and shook her head. "All right," she relented, "who did you hear, do you know?"
    Cecilia nodded sadly. "Only too well, though the speaker was behind a column, it was Randolph."
    "Your brother?"
    Cecilia pursed her lips and nodded again. "I'll own I was shocked. I swear I stood as still as one of Elgin's marbles for several seconds after the voice moved on. When the full measure of what I'd heard filtered to me, I turned without a thought to Sir Branstoke and headed in the direction of the voice." She paused, frowning. "Lady Amblethorp delayed me at the doorway. I believe she wanted to assure herself I was not running out because of the music. I told her I was not, but by then, too much time had passed and Randolph was comfortably ensconced amid a large group of gentleman in the card room."
    "But Randolph? You must be mistaken, Cecilia. He could not possibly—"
    Cecilia lifted her shoulders in the barest suggestion of a shrug.
    "For what reason? I'll own he might have once had cause, thinking to make you a wealthy widow and thereby sponging funds from you."
    "Which I never would have given him!"
    Jessamine smiled. "Be that as it may, my dear, being a man, I'm sure he thought he could appeal to your womanly nature. Anyway," she went on, ignoring the look of disgust Cecilia cast in her direction, "once Carlton's sons died, he became heir to the properties of the Marquis of Nye and the Duke of Houghton."
    "And under those circumstances tradesmen extend him credit based upon his expectations and promises of payment," Cecilia finished for her. "Yes, I know. It was a practice Mr. Waddley considered extremely foolish. Besides, grandfather and Uncle Carlton now grant him an allowance far greater than I think he could spend, though he does manage to do so."
    "The point is he has money of his own without recourse to Mr. Waddley's," Jessamine said.
    "True. But I don't believe Mr. Waddley was killed for money. I told you there appeared to have been some irregular dealings at the warehouse and on the wharf that Mr. Waddley found out about and was killed for knowing."
    "Precisely, Cecilia. And what, I ask you, would Randolph be doing that could concern the dockyards? I can't imagine him setting foot in such a location, let alone dealing with individuals who might. If he did, he might smudge his shoes or soil his snowy white cravat."
    Cecilia giggled, then sobered lest anyone notice. "Upon first consideration I suppose it does seem ridiculous. But Jessamine, somehow I know it isn't. I must investigate further. This is the only clue I've received to date beyond the journal. Gracious, the journal! Of course! In the journal there are several references to H. It must be H for Haukstrom. Wait a moment, while I think—" She ran her tongue across her top lip, her eyes narrowed in thought.
    Her shoulders sagged. "No, I'm grasping straws of hay. In the journal, Mr. Waddley wrote he was disgusted at H's need for signs and symbols. That can't have had anything to do with Randolph."
    Jessamine nodded, smiling sadly. "Come, we've sat here long enough," she said, rising to her feet. She extended a hand toward Cecilia who rose gracefully to stand beside her.
    "Let's bid Lady Amblethorp good-bye and return home," Cecilia suggested as they neared the music room. From inside mediocre applause followed another aria sung by Signora Casteneletti.
    "Why ever did Lady Amblethorp hire her?" Jessamine asked as they watched the singer take her last bow.
    "I believe she came highly recommended by her ladyship's brother," Cecilia said drily, a crooked smile curling up one corner of her lips. "Somehow I don't think she knew precisely what her brother recommended the woman for."
    "Cecilia!" Jessamine