Best of Fiona Harper. Fiona Harper
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Nicholas and I were finally alone together.
I fixed my gaze on his strong arms and waited for that delicious tingle to skip from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck. Any moment now…
Okay, in a few seconds, maybe. Once we were away from the bank and he could build up speed, really pull on the oars…
I frowned and concentrated harder on his hands and wrists, since the rest of his arms were covered by his shirt and an off-white linen jacket, and I thought I felt a flicker of something. Unfortunately, after another few minutes, that flicker began to itch. The something turned out to be a mosquito bite.
Flickers and tingles don’t mean anything, I told myself. They weren’t what I was there for. I was there to make Nicholas realise how irresistible I was, remember? The only one who should be tingling was Nicholas, and I needed to focus on that objective without getting distracted.
I decided my next step was to engage Nicholas in conversation, to show him I had brains as well as beauty. In fact, since the ‘beauty’ bit of me was still well hidden underneath Constance’s tweed suit and specs, this was probably the perfect time.
We’d been told by the murder-mystery weekend organisers that we could reveal a piece of confidential information about our characters now, and I decided to set the ball rolling. I gave Nicholas a particularly enticing look and lowered my voice. ‘I can tell you one of Constance’s deep, dark secrets, if you like?’
For the first time since we’d left the jetty Nicholas took his focus off the oars and looked at me. ‘Okay.’
I scanned the small lake, keeping an eye on the other couples in their boats. I suppose it might have looked as if I was being careful who overheard us, but actually I wanted to make sure the other couples were at a safe distance and that I still had Nicholas all to myself.
I looked into his deep blue eyes and my voice became even more husky. ‘Well, this doesn’t seem like anything much, but here goes… I have—or I should say, Constance has—a travel book about India hidden in her luggage. Apparently, she wants to go there to help the poor and needy, but her brother, Harry, has refused to help her raise cash for her passage or give a reference to the missionary society on her behalf, so she’s planning it all in secret.’
Nicholas frowned. ‘I presume she needs significant funds?’
I nodded. ‘The missionary society will sort her out when she gets there, but she needs money for the boat—which I’m guessing must have been an arm and a leg in those days.’
He paused briefly, before taking another stroke with the oars. ‘Could be a motive, I suppose…’ He glanced over at Adam and Izzi’s boat, which was gaining on us a little. Adam had taken his jacket off and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, and their little boat was zipping through the water. I could tell just by looking at Adam’s back, just by the smooth grace of his oar-stroke, that he wasn’t even rowing at full capacity.
Suddenly I felt all hot and unnecessary. I dabbed at my forehead with Constance’s lace-edged hanky.
‘Is the sun getting to you? You’re quite fair-skinned, despite being a brunette,’ Nicholas said, looking deliciously concerned. ‘I can row into the shade near the bank, if you’d prefer?’
I smiled demurely back at him. ‘That would be marvellous,’ I replied. Not only would I avoid looking all pink and sweaty, but it would take us away from the other boats—especially Marcus and Louisa, who had also started to head our direction.
Nicholas and I chatted about the murder-mystery weekend as he guided the boat into the shadows cast by the willows. I liked listening to him. He had a very analytical way of thinking. Not like me at all. My brain seems to flit from one subject to the next with worrying frequency—although I suppose the compensation is that I have the odd flash of right-brained brilliance now and then.
Nicholas frowned. ‘So, why won’t Harry hear of you going to India? And what has all of that got to do with Lord Southerby’s murder?’ he asked as he lifted the oars out of the water and let us drift further into the shade.
‘I don’t know.’
I tried to drape, but it just wasn’t working. No matter what position I got myself in, it just wasn’t comfortable. I glanced across at Izzi and Adam’s boat. They were closer now. It wouldn’t be long before they swept past us, making a circuit of the lake.
‘I tried to get it out of Adam—I mean, Harry—last night, but he was annoyingly evasive.’
Nicholas nodded. ‘Yes, I couldn’t get any of the information I wanted out of him either. Very cagey. If he’s hiding something, it’s big.’
My eyes grew large and round. ‘You think it might be him?’ I whispered.
Nicholas turned to look at Adam. ‘Maybe. Who would suspect a vicar? But why? What possible motive could he have?’
I balanced my elbows on my knees and looked at Nicholas. I liked him even better when he stopped looking bored and was actually engaged in something. That carved-in-stone expression he always wore had cracked a little and it made him look more alive.
I tried really hard to think about Constance and Harry, and why my fake brother might have killed his rich uncle, but I kept being dragged back to the here and now by a rather annoying detail.
The conditions were perfect. Nicholas and I were alone together, and he was even leaning forward, looking right into my eyes. I’d dreamed about a moment like this ever since Adam and I had gone rowing in Greenwich Park, but now I was living the actual fantasy something was missing.
Still no tingle.
I trailed a hand in the water and gave Nicholas a sideways look. ‘I don’t suppose you could you roll your sleeves up, could you?’
He stopped mulling over suspects and motives and looked at me in clear astonishment. ‘I beg your pardon?’
I closed my eyes and shook my head a little. Even I didn’t know how I was going to explain my way out of that outburst. I did my best.
‘You must be getting awfully hot in that suit,’ I said, sitting up straight again and doing my best to look concerned.
A microscopic frown pulled his brows together and stayed there while he carefully removed his jacket, folded it, and placed it on the wooden seat behind him. Adam wouldn’t have done that. Adam would have shrugged out of his jacket in a jiffy and thrown it into a crumpled ball, leaving it wherever it fell. For some reason the neatly folded pale linen bothered me.
I became aware of other voices around us and looked round to see all three of the other rowing boats in our vicinity. Typical. Just as Nicholas started to roll up his sleeves, as well. How was I supposed to get my tingle going now, with all these onlookers?
‘Ahoy, there!’ Marcus yelled as his boat lurched in our direction.
I couldn’t see his face, as his back was to us, but Louisa was looking very beady-eyed indeed down at her end of the boat.