Page 68 of The Detective and the Baroness

“Goodbye, Edgeworth.”

Well, at least that portion of Corrine’s problems had concluded satisfactorily. Now, there was just the rest of it. A few moments later, Mitchell heard the rear door bang shut and Corrine glided into the room like a heavenly vision, having changed into the red rose and blue gown that he adored. Her beauty took his breath away.

Mitchell immediately stood and assisted her in removing the cape. “Your brother stopped in to see me before he departed.”

Corrine sat on the sofa. “He told you?”

“About the funeral? In general terms.”

“I know this sounds awful, but it is as if a further weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I felt it the moment they put Travis in the ground. I’m eager to move forward.”

“That is good to hear.”

“I think my past—dealing with my father, our financial woes, my stressful occupation—has helped me deal with this latest burden. I am handling Travis’s death far better than I thought I would.”

“Many people would have gone to pieces under the circumstances. You are more courageous than you know.” Mitchell picked up an envelope from the mantel. “This was delivered from Carol Street. Thomason sent it. It is addressed to you. There are other condolence messages as well. But I thought you might like to see this one.”

Corrine opened the note. “It’s from Selena, the Duchess of Barnsdale. She sends her condolences and offers her friendship. I will answer her tomorrow and arrange for us to see each other in the new year. I will write to Celia as well.” Corrine sighed. “The three of us were very close in school. Like most young girls, we dreamed of falling in love and marrying. As it turned out, none of us married for love. We called ourselves the Bluebells.”

Mitchell smiled. “That is quite precious. Why the Bluebells?”

“Well, the color of our eyes, first and foremost,” Corrine laughed.

Mitchell chuckled.

Corrine sobered. “Also, bluebells symbolize humility, constancy, and everlasting love, and we pledged to follow that creed. But life had other plans for us. When my mother died, I was pulled out of school, and my life changed forever. I was so ashamed of our reduced circumstances that I never answered my friends’ letters. How foolish the young can be on so many fronts.”

“I’m sorry you all grew apart. Not just the young are foolish. Look at your feckless father.”

Corrine nodded. “How true. And I am glad the Bluebells have reconnected. I have missed them terribly.”

“How about a cup of tea? That I can manage to make.”

“I would adore one.”

Mitchell stood. “Then you relax and allow me to serve you.”

“I could get used to this,” she teased.

“So could I,” Mitchell replied huskily. With the tip of his finger, he caressed her cheek, along her chin, and across her bottom lip.

Corrine grabbed his hand, kissed it, and rubbed it against her cheek. “I have fallen for you, Mitchell Simpson. Head over heels, tumbling, plummeting, whatever description fits.”

Mitchell swiftly brought her to her feet and kissed her deeply. Passionately. With a profoundness that had his heart soaring. He then laid kisses along her chin, down the part of her neck that was exposed, and back up to capture her lips again. “And I have fallen for you. I love you, Corrine. With every fiber of my being.”

Corrine smoothed a lock of his wavy hair. “You do? Truly? I love you, too. So. Very. Much.”

They kissed, and Mitchell trailed his hand along her spine, then looped it around her waist, bringing her close. There was no denying his feelings, as he was hard as oak. It would be easy to become carried away but Drew would be home in an hour or so. He stepped back. “I will fetch the tea.”

Beaming and happier than he had been in a long time, Mitchell first headed down the hall to lock the rear entrance, then descended the nearby stairs to the kitchen. His lady wanted tea, and he’d give her anything she desired.

*

With a shuddering sigh, Corrine pulled the draperies aside and gazed out the window. Things were moving at a swift pace, and by rights, she should embrace a period of calm and rest after everything that had transpired. But more than anything, Corrine wanted to place all this behind her. With Travis’s burial came freedom, an unfettered sense of relief, and an anticipation for the future. And Mitchell was very much a part of that. Corrine could not contain her joy; she twirled in a circle with her arms outstretched. When she came back around, she gasped as a man stood in the doorway—and he held a revolver.

“Not a sound,” he murmured menacingly. “Who else is in the house? Servants?”

“No servants,” she whispered.