The Trouble With Seduction. Victoria Hanlen

their praise for the multitude of exhibits. All blended to produce a sense of pleasure and awe.

      The grandness of the place almost diverted Sarah from her problems.

       Almost.

      “Strathford would have been enthralled by all the wondrous inventions,” she mused, wistfully.

      “Indeed, this is a fairyland for every taste.” Her Aunt Eliza dragged her gaze from an exquisitely embroidered gown. “It’s time you put away your mourning clothes, my dear. Let’s visit my new modiste and have you fitted for a gown in this very shade of blue.”

      Sarah and her aunt moved on, halting to study a Roman statue of a scantily clad warrior. The sculptor’s sensuous chisel had brought to life every magnificent sinew. A memory surfaced of the handsome miller’s son Sarah had kissed when she was sixteen.

      Unbidden, bone-deep humiliation crept in, squeezing her stomach like a vise. Even after all these years, the remorse over those few stolen moments of happiness almost made her ill.

      She leaned close to her aunt, their bonnets nearly touching. “There is something I must tell you.” She peered about to make sure no one could hear them. “For over two years I’ve thought Strathford’s death an accident. Yesterday, workmen found suspicious items in his laboratory. The police now think he was murdered.”

      Her aunt gasped. “Oh, my dear, that is disturbing news. Do they have any idea who would do such a thing?”

      Sarah exhaled shakily in remembrance of their questions and curled a lip in distaste. “I couldn’t help feeling they think I killed him.”

      Eliza’s features tightened. She immediately pressed her hand down through the air. A little signal she’d devised to alert Sarah when she spoke too candidly. “Such frank words in public could be misconstrued, dear.” She quickly looked around before whispering, “Surely you must have misunderstood.”

      Sarah pinched her lips together and shuddered. “The police inspector’s questions left me quite… alarmed. It did no good insisting I have no idea who would have wanted to hurt Strathford.”

      A pang of anguish tightened her throat. “For over two years I’ve held true to his memory and mourned his death. How I miss him, Auntie. This whole situation has me so... despairing. I have no husband, no family…” She gazed longingly at the nearby children playing around a fountain. “No babies to raise.”

      Shifting her attention back to the muscular statue, she exhaled a shuddering breath. “To make matters worse, since the workmen started renovating the laboratory, I have these… stirrings… these annoying quivers I can’t quite satisfy. Such things never happened after my first husband’s death.”

      “You were practically a girl when Lord Hardington died. Now you’re an experienced woman.” Her aunt gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Such stirrings are quite natural. I must confess, after Oswald died, a similar condition came over me.” A smile quivered at her lips. “Perhaps you should take a lover.”

      “Elizabeth Fortnoy,” Sarah whispered in mock offense, “I am scandalized.”

      Her aunt’s eyes twinkled as she spoke under her breath. “Your agitation may be a sign it is time to rejoin the living. I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but I always thought your father rushed you into marrying men whose youth had fled them decades before. This time you have the luxury of being able to do a little shopping. Pick out a few pretty ones. See if anything about them takes your fancy. Happiness does not always land conveniently on one’s doorstep. Sometimes it’s necessary to go after it with a club.”

      “Yes, Auntie. But I fear the police suspect me of mur—”

      Her aunt’s eyes widened and her hand fluttered through the air.

      “Well I… I’m so overwhelmed by this new development regarding Strathford’s death. I dare not make any… new friends.” A mist formed in Sarah’s eyes.

      Eliza gazed at her sympathetically, then peered around the displays and other patrons. “Now where is that maid of yours? We should go outside. A little fresh air and sunshine should chase away those gloomies.”

      Sarah tipped her head back to stem the tears. “Gracie went to the necessaries. She wanted to experience the innovative new water closets.”

      Taking several deep breaths, Sarah gazed at an upper floor displaying industrial inventions. Through a blur of unshed tears she glimpsed a familiar continental jacket. She blinked and then blinked again. Oh, no, that couldn’t be the irritating fellow from the dance… and in her daydream? Her pulse launched into a faster beat.

      Were his shoulders always that broad?

      ***

      When Sarah’s maid finally returned, they made their way to the outside exhibits. A few minutes later, Gracie bobbed in excitement. “Oh, my lady! Look, there by the Dinosaur Lake. Could that be Mr Cornelius Ravenhill?”

      Eliza turned to Sarah with a knowing smile and raised an inquisitive brow. “Have you met Lord Falgate’s younger son?”

      Attempting a show of nonchalance, Sarah muttered, “Briefly,” and concentrated on running her hands over the pleats of her very modest sable-colored gown. Finally, unable to resist a peek, she held up her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

      From a distance, she could see a tall man in a distinctive fashionable suit, leaning on a cane. Fabric gaped around his middle. When she’d met him at the Grancliffes’ party, his tailoring had been perfection and the height of continental fashion. “Are you sure that’s him?”

      Her aunt gave her a sidelong glance. “Our fair city has not given him a very kind homecoming. I heard villains killed his footman and beat him to within an inch of his life. Such a travesty,” she breathed. “His dark looks were said to be rather appealing.”

      Sarah fiddled with her reticule. “Yes, he was most handsome, and he knew it, too. Truly, I’ve never met a more conceited, self-absorbed man. I am inclined to believe he’s hidden behind his fine features to conceal his lack of intelligence. Perhaps his mishap will educate him on how to communicate with the rest of us mere mortals.”

      Gracie blinked, her eyes bugging slightly the way they usually did when she was about to say something droll. “Let that be a lesson to you. If a big, sturdy man and his burly footman can get their stuffings beaten out of them, you wouldn’t stand a chance, running off on your own the way you do.”

      “I don’t run off.” Sarah tucked the escaped strands of her intractable hair back under her bonnet. “It’s important business for my mission.”

      “So you’ve said, but it’s foolhardy.” Gracie rose up on her toes, gazing toward the lake. Patrons flocked about the fences enclosing the exhibit’s gargantuan prehistoric creatures. “Quick, my ladies!” The maid rocked from foot to foot in excitement. “That mother and her children are leaving. We’d best grab her spot at the rail if we ever plan on seeing those ancient water monsters.”

      Others saw the opening as well, forming opposing currents, pushing them to and fro. With all the comings and goings, somehow her mischievous maid managed to maneuver them into a spot right next to the continental suit.

      “Have you ever seen teeth that size?” Gracie threw out her arm to point at the creature, while loudly exclaiming, “Adults know these beasts are plaster, but I fear for the little ones’ imaginations. They’re bound to cause nightmares!”

      Could her maid shout any louder? Sarah dug into her reticule, searching for something, anything to give the impression she was totally unaware of the tall man standing right next to them. Her lively, ebullient maid could be entertaining company, but sometimes she wanted to strangle her.

      Without meaning to, one of Sarah’s hands accidentally slipped, upended her reticule, and dumped its entire contents onto the ground. “Oh, dear.” She looked at her aunt whose features contorted as if it took great effort