Harriett by Rebecca King Page B

throw open
the windows. She stood before the main window and took a moment and
took in the wonderfully fresh air before she turned back to face
the room. It wasn’t as bad as she had thought it would be. Although
glasses were littered around the room, it was still ostensibly her
front parlour; the best room in the house.
    “ I don’t know about you, Babette, but I think we need to get
rid of this rug.”
    “ Quite. Let’s roll it up while the men here collect the
glassware, then we can leave the windows and curtains open for a
while. I am sure that everyone will understand our break in
protocol given the circumstances.”
    “ It is awkward if they don’t because right now that window is
going to remain open,” Harriett declared firmly and knelt down to
roll the heavy woollen rug into a neat roll. She jumped when Mark
appeared beside her and hefted it onto his shoulder.
    “ Where to?”
    The
familiarity in which he jumped in to help out startled her and she
felt a thrill of pleasure at his willingness to roll his sleeves
up. Harriett offered him a smile and she motioned toward the door.
“The back yard, I think, for now. We can arrange for it to be
collected tomorrow.”
    “ Are you not going to the tea shop this afternoon?” Mark asked
as he stood back to watch Harriett lock the back door once the rug
was outside.
    “ No, I have given myself the day off. Charles will understand.
I need to clear up here a bit and get some chores done. Last night
was disconcerting to say the least, and that was before poor
Minerva, well, you know.” She gave him a pointed look to which he
nodded. “Then time seemed to stop and has moved so slowly since
that I seem to have been at home doing chores all day yet have
achieved nothing.”
    “ Is Minerva’s glass where she dropped it?”
    Harriett
frowned for a moment, acutely aware of him behind her as they
returned to the parlour.
    “ It is, but there are no contents.” Isaac motioned to a dark
brown stain on the floor that had been the sherry. He carefully
picked up the glass with his clean handkerchief, wrapped it and
placed it in the box with the rest of the glassware that had been
neatly labelled.
    Both men
studied the room, the contents of the table and the layout of the
room. Isaac drew pictures and made more notes as he asked about who
was seated next to whom at the table. Several minutes later, he
shook his head at Mark’s look of enquiry.
    “ I think that is about it for now, ladies. Thank you for your
assistance today. If you think of anything else, please contact me.
Either call or send a message and I will come and see you. I don’t
care what time of day or night it is.”
    “ I will do that, thank you,” Harriett replied softly. Her soft
brown eyes were captured by the emerald blaze of his and her breath
locked in her throat. Time seemed to freeze. How long they stood
locked in silent contemplation she couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t
even certain that she had remembered to breathe. It was only the
rustle of movement by the parlour door that made their gazes break
away and Mark moved to put a little more decorous distance between
them.
    He knew
that he had just behaved as unprofessionally as it was possible to
behave, but he didn’t really care. She had captivating eyes, and
the most profound effect on him, both mentally and physically. He
knew, in those last few moments, that he would do everything within
his power to protect her, far beyond what was required of him as a
police officer, even if that meant marriage.
    Mark was
no idiot. He was very aware of the fact that by simply being called
Mrs Mark Bosville, wife of the Detective Inspector at Great Tipton
Constabulary, would ensure that no would-be murderer looking for
his – or her – next victim would even briefly consider Harriett to
be fair game. Strangely, the idea of going so far to protect her
didn’t bother him one bit.
    With
plans beginning to form in his mind, and with a niggling question
as to