Page 82 of Honor Unbound

The captain squinted. “Five or six days ago? He was in a right good humor. Gave me three tins that day.”

“Do you know why he was in good spirits?” Brett asked. He looked as confused as Marie felt. The last they’d seen, Mr. Hicks had been in a dark mood. What had changed?

He shrugged. “Said his fortune had shifted.” His eyes clouded. “And a couple days later he was dead. You never know, do you?”

Brett and Marie murmured agreement. “So that night, you didn’t see or hear anything?” she asked.

“Saw nothing. I did hear something.” He swung at a fly and missed. “The church bell had tolled one a few minutes before I heard it. I thought it was Ed weighing anchor at first. His lever is bent, you see, so the anchor chain screeches against the hull at times. But when I asked Ed about it the next day, he said he hadn’t docked until later that morning.”

His shoulders rounded. “It might have been Hicks. Screaming as he was getting himself murdered. And I just rolled over and went back to sleep.”

Marie wanted to hug the man. Instead, she merely said, “You couldn’t have known,” and tucked his loaf of bread back under his arm. “Thank you for speaking with us.”

“Anytime, miss.” He winked. “And if you ever want to take a ride up the river, come on back.Marybelleand I will be happy to take you out.”

“Marybelle?” Marie patted Brett’s arm, biting back her smile at his low growl. It was his own fault for not putting a ring on her finger yet. Their secrecy definitely had its drawbacks.

“My ship.” Sanderson jerked his head at the boat. “My longest relationship.”

She started tugging Brett away. “Thank you. I’ll let you know.”

“You’ll let him know?” The outrage in her husband’s voice widened her smile.

“He was a nice man.” They strolled back to the main street. They’d knocked on all the doors closest to the factory, but there were some buildings farther off that they could try. “Do you think maybe we should have done this first, right after the murder? After three days, people might start forgetting that they noticed something.”

Brett took off his hat and fanned his face, then hers. “We’re not expert investigators. Next murder we’ll do it right.”

“Let’s hope there is no next murder.” She shivered despite the heat. There had been too many dead bodies in her life already. She wasn’t squeamish, but she wasn’t so indifferent to it as Lady Mary seemed to be.

“Oh, let’s go home.” Brett waved at the driver of the hackney they’d rented. He started driving the carriage toward them. “We’ve done enough for today.”

Marie wasn’t going to argue. When they’d settled in the carriage, she rested her head on Brett’s shoulder.

She’d never imagined such a simple act, having a shoulder to rest upon, could feel so good. Married. She was married. She kept waiting to feel regret at her rash decision. She’d always been a sensible sort of girl, and that had been the most unsensible act of her life.

She curled closer into him. The regret never came. Hooking her leg over his, she asked, “Do you think we’ll be able to move to a bigger room once we tell Lady Mary?” With a bigger bed.

He stroked her thigh. “It would be nice to have more space. London feels so closed-in.”

“Hmm.” She snaked her hand under his neckcloth, exploring the patch of bare skin below his throat. Their days had been mired in murder, but their nights had been heaven.

“Be careful, minx,” Brett murmured. “It isn’t Ernest above us.”

She slid her hand down to his waistcoat and popped the top button. “If it were Ernest driving, I wouldn’t dare.”

Brett trapped her hand, his gaze hot. “Does Mrs. Burton want to play?”

Mrs. Burton.She bit her lower lip. She loved the sound of that. “Yes, I believe Mrs. Burton does.”

Brett closed the windows in the carriage and drew the drapes.

And then her husband showed her the true meaning of play.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lady Mary

Marie held aswatch of ornamental paper against the wall in The Minerva Club’s waiting room as she relayed all that she and Brett had learned the day before to me. The paper was a soothing sage green and dotted with small palm trees. It was lovely, and expensive, but I wasn’t certain it would fit into the rest of the décor of my club.