A Design of Deceit (The Dickinson Sisters Mysteries Book 5) Read online

  Lily stopped, her hand hovering in the air as she hung the measuring tapes up. “What do you mean?”

  “When you left to go fetch her a drink, she told me that she has been complaining that something is wrong at Grangehurst estate,” I said. “She said that her husband keeps dismissing her, but that ever since Mr. Shaw died, she feels something terrible is going to happen.”

  Lily’s face became serious. “She believes something terrible will happen?” she repeated.

  I nodded. “And worst of all? She believes that it is going to happen to her.”

  Lily’s brows furrowed and she folded her arms tightly around herself. “What makes her think so?”

  “She did not say,” I said. “You returned before I had a chance to ask her.”

  Lily frowned.

  “But I do not believe she would have said a great deal more if I had asked,” I said. “I think if I had, she would have remembered who I was, and perhaps even become angry when she realized her error.”

  “That is troubling,” Lily said.

  “Yes,” I said. “And Hornsby made it seem as if she has been ill like this before.”

  “So it was not just a single event…” Lily said.

  I shook my head.

  “My, my…” Lily said. “How concerning.”

  “I hope that it is nothing,” I said. “Perhaps the shock of a murder so close to their home simply unsettled her. She made it clear she is not sleeping well.”

  “That could contribute to feeling faint, I suppose,” Lily said.

  “Yes, but…” I said. “What if it is more?”

  “Just because something happened on that estate once does not mean it will again,” Lily said. “Do not begin thinking that way.”

  “But it isn’t just there,” I said. “What of all the other strange happenings in Grangehurst that have occurred over the past few months?”

  Lily rolled her eyes, turning away. “Do not be so dramatic, Iris.”

  “I am not being dramatic,” I said, hands on my hips. “I worry that you are not taking this seriously enough – ”

  The door to the shop suddenly opened.

  As my head turned, my heart did a flip inside my chest.

  Nash Greenwood stepped into the shop. He had to duck when he passed through the doorway, removing his hat as he did so. His eyes, silvery grey, searched throughout the room before they fell upon me.

  “Miss Iris,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “How wonderful it is to see you.”

  My heart beat so fast that I thought it might very well leap from within me. “Mr. Greenwood,” I said. “Welcome. What can we do for you today?”

  I noticed he wore a coat I was particularly fond of, in a rich, deep navy blue. The buttons, polished brass, glinted in the sunlight that poured in through the window.

  “Well, I must disappoint you ladies and let you know that I am not here on business,” he said.

  “Oh?” Lily asked from the back of the shop. “Then what brings you down here?”

  “Well, I – ” he said. “I was simply in the area. I had the afternoon free, so I thought perhaps…”

  He gave me a rather sheepish smile.

  “What is it?” I asked, feeling my cheeks turn pink. “What do you mean to say?”

  He gave Lily a sidelong look and then turned his gaze back to me. “Well,” he said. “I was hoping, Miss Iris, that you might wish to accompany me on a walk about town.”

  A walk? With him? Alone?

  “Oh, Mr. Greenwood,” I said, the questions and implications beginning to run through my mind.

  He must not mind the idea of us being seen together in town. And if he does not mind, then perhaps he rather likes the idea! And if he likes that idea, then I wonder if he means something more by it?

  “A walk? On a day like today?” Lily asked. She stared out the window, arching a brow. “When a storm is likely to blow in at any moment?”

  I turned and glared slightly at her. “The weather seems perfectly reasonable right now,” I said. “Perhaps a bit cool, but when has that stopped me from appreciating a pleasant walk through town?”

  Lily opened her mouth to argue, but the heat in my gaze must have been enough to make her realize that now was not the time to argue about such things.

  “Yes, of course,” she said, finally realizing the depth of the matter. “I suppose it would be all right. I assume you wish for it to be just the two of you?”

  I stared at her in dumbfounded silence as she turned to put away some of the squares of fabric we had shown to Lady Wilson, samples that she had chosen from for her dress.

  “If you would care to accompany us, Miss Lily, you shall be more than welcome to do so,” Nash said.

  My heart sank slightly. Perhaps this request was not what I had thought it was after all –

  Lily raised a dismissive hand. “You are simply being kind, Mr. Greenwood. I know when I am not wanted, though I appreciate your offer. Go on, have a good time.”

  “I shall go and fetch my cloak,” I said. “If you will pardon me, I will return as soon as I have it.”

  “Certainly,” Nash said, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

  I hurried upstairs, barely able to contain my excitement.

  I realized I could be making a great deal out of nothing. It was entirely possible that he wanted nothing more than to spend some time with a friend. Or perhaps he had something he wished to discuss with me.

  Why am I being so hard on myself?

  Why else would a man wish to walk alone with a woman, if not with romantic intention?

  Shivers raced down my spine as the thought passed through my mind.

  We had known each other for some time now, certainly long enough for us to make our feelings obvious to one another. I had found him handsome from the first moment we had met and his smile warmed whenever he caught my eye. Deep down within my heart, I had hoped that my feelings were not unrequited.

  I grabbed my cloak off the hook upstairs, along with a thick pair of leather, wool-lined gloves that Lily had made me for Christmas the year before. I did not want to delay a moment longer than I needed to.

  I made my way back down the stairs as quickly as I could. I did not want to injure myself as I went or make myself appear clumsy.

  He waited patiently in the shop, speaking with Lily.

  “…exquisite stitching, truly,” Nash said. “It is incredibly well done.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” Lily said.

  I noticed a handkerchief in Nash’s palm. He examined it closely and held it with great care, as if it might break at his touch.

  “If I may, would it be possible for me to ask you to make one of these for my mother come this spring?” he asked. “She dearly loves lavender. If I could gift her something in that color with so much detail…”

  Lily turned to look at me as I approached them. “If you wish for the detail, then you must ask my sister,” she said. “She could stitch fields of lavender that would look so real you might, for a moment, believe she used real flowers.”

  Nash looked up, appearing startled at my return.

  “She is the one who sewed those doves,” Lily said.

  Nash looked at the kerchief, then back at me. “Iris this is excellent work. I am quite impressed. I always knew you – and your sister, of course – had great talent, but…” He gingerly ran his thumb over one of the doves taking flight.

  “You are free to admire her work whenever you would like,” Lily said. “For now, though, shouldn’t you be on your way? The daylight hours will wait for no one.”

  Nash looked up, grinning at me. He passed the handkerchief back to Lily. “She is right, of course,” he said. “Well? Shall we go?”

  He extended his arm to me, which, with the combination of his smile, made my heart lurch. “I should like that very much,” I said, walking up to him and laying my hand inside the crook of his arm.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Lily, my
eyes widening.

  I had dreamt of a moment like this for some time now and here it finally was. What I had not anticipated, however, was what it would make me feel.

  Nervousness. Anticipation. Excitement. Adoration.

  All of these swelled within me, like a tidepool, and churned and churned –

  “Iris, are you all right?”

  We had barely made it outside into the street. I blinked, looking up at him.

  His brow had furrowed. Concern caused wrinkles to appear near his eyes. “You seem…distressed. Are you certain that you wish to go?”

  “Yes!” I said at once. “Oh, Nash, I am sorry. I – well, to be honest, I am…”

  I felt my face turn three or four shades darker.

  “…I am exceedingly happy that you asked me on a walk.”

  Nash’s smile deepened and the worry disappeared. “It seems I should have asked you sooner, shouldn’t I? Well, then, where should we go?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking about. There were not many others out at this time of day; tea time was just a short while away and visitors would likely have made their way to the homes they were heading to. “Is there anywhere that you had in mind?”

  In truth, I would have been happy if he had asked me to the end of the street and back, but when asked so suddenly, I could think of nothing. All I wanted to do was to be with him. I did not know how to convey it without responding in a very unladylike way.

  “Well, yes, actually,” Nash said, a sly grin growing up the left side of his face. “I did have somewhere in mind. Tell me, Miss Iris…how do you feel about sweets?”

  “I am quite fond of them, indeed.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then I know the perfect place.”’

  We started across the street, near to Captain Seymour’s house. I could see lights shining through the windows and wondered for a moment how he was doing. “Did you know that Captain Seymour has a parrot?” I asked.

  Nash’s eyes widened. “Does he now? Was that an acquisition during his time in India?”

  I nodded. “Admiral Charles. It seems that they have been friends for quite some time.”

  Nash’s brow furrowed. “Is Admiral Charles the man who gave him his bird? Or is that the name of his parrot?”

  I laughed. “I asked the same question, I believe. It is his parrot. A beautiful creature with feathers of bright blue and vibrant yellow…”

  It might have been silly to speak about a bird at the length that I did, but the more I spoke, the more interested Nash became. He asked a number of questions, including some about the bird’s personality.

  “I myself have never met a parrot,” he said. “Though I would very much like to.”

  “I am certain Captain Seymour would be very happy to introduce you,” I said. “He and I are good friends, you know.”

  Nash let out a laugh. “I should very much like to see that,” he said.

  We stopped in front of a familiar place and my heart lightened considerably.

  “Mr. Clark’s bakery!” I exclaimed, staring up at the white-washed walls, the same thick, elm wood door standing at the entrance with the stained glass window set within it. “I adore his treats.”

  Nash beamed down at me. “I must admit, I am happy to have chosen someplace that gives you such delight. Will you allow me to take you inside?”

  “I should like that very much,” I said.

  We walked up the stone steps together and Nash pulled the door open for me.

  I could not remember a time when I was as happy as I felt in that moment. Nash and I were out together, quite clearly alone, for all the world to see, which could only mean one thing. Not only that but we had been enjoying some pleasant conversation, conversation that might very well have driven my sister batty, but Nash was all too happy to entertain.

  And now, we were stepping into one of my favorite places in Grangehurst, pouring over the delectable treats and treasures that Mr. and Mrs. Clark had managed to create.

  “Well, if it isn’t Miss Iris,” said a bright, sunny voice on the other side of the room.

  I turned to see the round face of Mrs. Clark grinning at me from the small seating area near the bay windows. Since she was holding a broom in her hand, it seemed we had walked in just as she had finished tidying up.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Clark,” I said.

  “Have you come for your – ” Mrs. Clark began, and then her eyes widened as Nash stepped in behind me.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Clark,” Nash said, echoing me as he tipped his hat.

  Mrs. Clark’s eyes widened, her brows disappearing beneath the rim of her bonnet. “Oh,” she said in an amused tone, her smile growing. “Good afternoon to you, too, Mr. Greenwood. How nice it is to see you both here…together.”

  The look she gave me said a great deal more than her words did. I understood it quite clearly; how exciting for me to be here with Nash.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked, stepping up behind the counter.

  My mouth watered as I stared at the glass case positively filled with treats. Sweets of every shape and size filled the shelves; gateaux with thick chocolate frosting, trifles with beautiful layering of creams and dried fruits, and my favorite…

  “Oh, Mrs. Clark…” I said, laying my hand against the glass. “Your marzipan is always so lovely. Look at the way you shaped it just so…I might have thought that was a real strawberry.”

  Mrs. Clark grinned at me from behind the glass. “I am glad to hear you say it. I have been working to make it more realistic…”

  “Nash, look at these,” I said, stooping over the pastry case, staring at a small basket that had been painted in chocolate and filled with small apples made of marzipan and painted red. “It is simply breathtaking.”

  Nash bent over beside me, his mouth hanging ajar. “My heavens, Mrs. Clark. You could sell these in London. You would be the talk of the town.”

  “You are far too kind, sir,” Mrs. Clark said, fanning herself. “Far too kind indeed.”

  “I would like to purchase the whole basket,” Nash said, reaching into his pocket.

  Mortified, I shook my head. “Oh, Mrs. Clark, you do not have to listen to him. I was simply admiring your wonderful work. I would never dream – ”

  Nash handed the coins over the counter to Mrs. Clark.

  Embarrassment of the highest kind washed over me and I looked away as she reached inside to pull the beautiful, intricately molded basket of sweets out.

  “Here you are,” Mrs. Clark said with a wide smile, handing it over the top of the pastry counter to him. “Enjoy!”

  “We certainly shall,” Nash said.

  “Oh, Nash, I’m terribly sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean you to spend so much.”

  He laughed. “It was very little, dear Iris.”

  He gestured to a small, round table beside the window, though it mattered little, as we were the sole customers in the bakery at the moment. Together, we walked to it. Nash pulled a chair out for me.

  As I sat, he placed the basket in front of me.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly – ” I said.

  Nash arched a brow, his smile growing. “Goodness, if you must know, I have been putting money aside for some weeks now, with the intention of doing something just like this. If it had not been a treat, it might have been something else. The important matter is that I wanted to do this for you. I had planned to do something nice. How would it be if I were to buy something small? Or something of less value? How would I be able to demonstrate the depth of my feelings for you?”

  I could count each heartbeat as they passed.

  Demonstrate…the depth of his feelings?

  Nash sighed, chuckling under his breath. “Iris…I thought by now that I might have made myself perfectly clear.” He folded his arms and leaned closer to me across the table. “Have I ever told you that I am quite fond of marzipan as well? It is a treat that I would often enjoy at my grandmother’s knee.”

/>   He reached across the table, and taking a knife provided to him by Mrs. Clark, carefully cut into the basket. As slow as an icy river, he slid the knife through the soft, pasty substance. He divided it perfectly in two, with most of the tiny, painted apples within still intact.

  He said, “When you reacted the way you did to the marzipan, it moved me in a great way, Miss Iris. It made me realize there is a great deal that ties us together…”

  His voice drifted off as he sliced off a small piece of the marzipan with the tip of his knife.

  “Please,” he said, his smile growing once again, as he pushed the plate of the marzipan toward me. “This is for you, and here I am, trying to eat it myself.”

  “No, please,” I said. “I would…I would very much like to share it with you.”

  He smiled. “Well…if you insist. But you must take the first bite.”

  I took the fork he offered to me and cut off a piece for myself.

  As I raised it to my mouth, the earthy scent of the almonds reached me, making my mouth water. I tipped it onto my tongue and the flavors exploded. The gentle sweetness of the sugar, the richness of the chocolate…but my favorite was the soft, creamy nuttiness of the almond paste.

  “Mmm…” I said, taking a moment to savor the treat. I only ever allowed myself to indulge in marzipan once a year, usually around my birthday when Lily would purchase some for me, after she had saved for some time. And it was never this amount.

  Nash chuckled, watching me as I ate. “I am pleased to see you are so happy,” he said.

  I smiled at him. “Thank you, Nash…” I said. “This is one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.”

  He looked at me like I was the only person in the world…and it warmed my heart.

  We sat there for a long time together, sharing the marzipan, piece by piece. We spoke of happy things, such as my embroidery and Nash’s love for nature. We allowed the minutes to pass by without our notice. Soon, before either of us was quite ready for it, the sun began its descent toward the horizon.

  Nash looked reluctantly toward the window, his smile waning slightly. “Well, Miss Iris…I suppose that I should walk you home.”

  I looked down at the plate between us, seeing the small amount of marzipan left.