Hounds of Autumn by Heather Blackwood

people about. The black-haired brother and sister were arguing nearby.
    “Look there,” said the man. “Those tracks. See? It’s the churchgrims. They should have buried her at a crossroads.”
    “That’s for suicides, you dolt,” said his sister.
    “Then what are those?”
    “How should I know? But I’m hungry. Let’s be going before the entire roast is taken.” She pulled his arm.
    Ambrose walked Chloe across the churchyard and to the road, where a row of carriages awaited.
    “Would you mind if we went straight home and missed the luncheon?” She would have said that she didn’t feel well, but it would be a lie. Physically, she was well.
    Ambrose instructed the driver to take them to the Aynesworth house. Once they were ensconced side by side within the privacy of the carriage, Ambrose raised an eyebrow.
    “Would you like to share with me what you have in your handbag?”
    She blushed and hesitated for a moment before opening it. She hoped he would not be upset with her. Ambrose whistled low as she handed the stack of papers. Then she reached into her stocking to draw out another paper, which made him chuckle. And finally, she pulled pages out of her bodice, and he gave a wicked laugh.
    “Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?” he said with a small, mischievous smile.
    “Not to visit the queen, I assure you. I wanted to see Camille’s rooms. I found her laboratory and discovered these.”
    After perusing the pages, he put half of the papers into his coat pockets.
    “I’ll carry these to the house for you,” he said, handing the rest back to her. She fitted them back into her reticule.
    “Unfortunately, there are so many more notebooks and things in Camille’s laboratory. I could only grab these. I need to see more. There was just so much.”
    “Were you discovered?”
    “Yes, but only by a maid and the housekeeper. And she seemed so frightened of Mr. Granger that I doubt she’ll tell him I was up there.”
    “Then why don’t you want to go for the luncheon?”
    She wouldn’t usually pass up such luxurious fair as would surely be on offer at the Granger home. And she was dreadfully hungry.
    “It’s the people. They’re all, well … too happy. Enjoying themselves too much.”
    His smile faded and he looked out the window. “Yes, I think it was more a party for many of them.”
    “I just want to go home,” she said. He took her hand and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Chapter 11
    C hloe closed her bedroom door behind her and pulled out the note pages from her reticule. She unfolded them and laid them between the pages of a large hardbound art book on a side table before ringing for her lady’s maid.
    Miss Haynes entered and helped Chloe out of the dress she had worn to the funeral and into a more relaxed blue dress for the afternoon.
    “I’m glad you thought to pack that one,” Chloe said as Miss Haynes shook out the gray dress, examined it for rips or stains and hung it up.
    “Well, I certainly didn’t think you’d need it for a funeral. But it’s one of your more versatile dresses. A white ribbon and a cameo around your neck, and it’s cheered up. A black shawl and your onyx cross pendant with it, like today, and it’s fit … well, for mourning.” She glanced at her mistress’s face. “Are you all right, mum?”
    “I’m all right. It was awful seeing Camille laid out like that. But what I just couldn’t abide was being with all those mourners. They were having too grand a time, feasting and all.”
    Miss Haynes nodded. “The other servants were talking. Mr. Granger’s household put together quite a spread under such short notice. Must have bought up half the bakery and butcher shops while they were at it.”
    “Likely they did. And whoever they hired to dress up Camille made her look beautiful.”
    “I heard she was quite a beauty, even if she was French.”
    Chloe smiled and stroked Giles who was resting on the windowsill. He swiveled his head and watched a